There is Hope

*** Based on Christian Morals--Christian Romance ***

Book 2 in the Three Cross Faith 2: Health and Faith Series: Eva's been given six months to live. If it weren't for a coincidental encounter with an older man in a thunderstorm, she'd have died lonely.

Since the man's grandson, Zac, is a doctor at the Cole-Hart Neuro Center, Eva will be given a second chance at life...and a future filled with love, if Zac has his way.

Excerpt

Six months—at the most—was all Eva had left. The brain tumor was inoperable, or so the doctor thought. At 27 years of age, she'd never really lived and would never leave Alabama now. Considering her entire left side was weak, she'd never be able to run and enjoy life again.

If only her head didn't hurt so much, she could at least function to get her final wishes on paper. However, no one was around to help and she couldn't afford a lawyer. Those wishes probably wouldn't be carried out.

What was she going to do? She had no real friends, no family that would give her the time of day, and a few coworkers who had no idea what was going on. When news of this diagnosis became known at her job, she'd be fired anyway. Who wanted a firefighter with a consistent headache and double vision hitting her suddenly? Since she'd been out of work for a week, the weakness had progressed. She'd accumulated enough sick leave that no one knew. They'd find out soon enough. She could barely even drive, so she'd given up on her old car and took the bus or called a taxi instead.

She couldn't wallow in her sadness, realizing a few things had to be done. As the rain beat a steady tone outside, she went into the kitchen with the use of a cane, popped two pain pills, grabbed some paper and a pen, and went back to the couch. She wrote 'Last Will and Testament' at the top of the paper and stared out the window, trying to figure out how to word everything.

The July rain had turned into a thunderstorm and lightning filled the sky. It took quite a few moments before the thunder boomed, but Eva didn't care. She had a job to do. She had to write this last note and figure out her next move, knowing what she had to do.

She glanced out the front window to collect her thoughts and saw an older man, probably in his 70s, walk fast to get under a sweetgum tree across the street. The lightning had picked up and this man was in danger.

Eva got to her feet and hobbled to the front door with her cane. Once there, she threw open both the door and the outer screen door. "Hey, you!" she yelled.

The man searched around, trying to find the voice, but he didn't see her. She stepped out onto the front porch of the small home and waved with one arm. She had to keep her balance by holding onto the cane with her other hand. "You! Look over here."

The man wiped the water from his face and watched her.

"That's dangerous," she yelled to him. "Come over here and get out of the rain." She motioned for him to hurry to her house.

He looked both ways down the street, and high-tailed it over to her home, stepping up onto her porch just as another bolt of lightning lit the darkened sky.

"I didn't know it was going to rain today," the man said. He definitely wasn't from Alabama or even southern.

She opened her door wider. "Come inside and get dried off."

"Is Kate here?"

He knew her great aunt? "No. She died about a month ago in the nursing home. This place is now mine."

"I take it you're related to Kate?"

Eva nodded, still holding the door open with one hand, and holding onto the cane with her other. "She was my great aunt. That second stroke did her in, but I tried to get her back on her feet before that." She missed her aunt, but had more pressing issues. "Come on inside until the storm passes. Want something to eat or drink?"

The older graying man stepped into her home. "I'll get your floor wet."

Eva waved him off with her free hand. "Not a problem. That floor's been through worse." With great care, she hobbled into the small bathroom and grabbed some towels before returning to the foyer and handing them to him. "Come on in and sit a while until the storm passes. Where do you live?"

He pointed to the south and wiped his hair, arms, and legs with the towels, below his Bermuda shorts. "At the end of the street. I take it you haven't lived here long."

"About a year. I came here to take care of Kate and trained to become a firefighter."

He glanced down at the cane. "A firefighter?"

"I'm not fighting fires these days. Have a seat." She headed for the kitchen. "Want some lemonade or sweetened iced tea?"

"I don't want to be a bother," the man said from the living room.

"No problem at all. What'll it be?" She opened the refrigerator, seeing just a few things inside.

"Whatever you're having," the man said. "What are you doing home this afternoon? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Just a minute." She poured two glasses of lemonade, added some ice, and carried them—one at a time—into the living room, as she used the cane. Her head pounded on the right side, but she managed to put each of the glasses on the coffee table with a thud. "Sorry. My balance is a bit off."

"Balance?" The man lifted the paper she'd been working on, that had been on the couch. "What's going on here? Your last will and testament? You're too young for that." He pointed at the cane. "And definitely too young for that."

"Um…" She stared at him, but the double vision started up again. She blinked a few times and it subsided, but she knew it was just a matter of time until she couldn't see straight at all.