Holiday Illusion. Lynette Eason
“Anna, let’s go to the boat.”
“Why?” Lucas had avoided the boathouse like the plague until now.
“I’ll explain in a minute.”
Anna did as requested and followed Lucas down the path that led to the boathouse. As they neared the building, Lucas’s steps faltered for a brief moment before he squared his shoulders, as though approaching the boathouse equaled going into battle. “Lucas, could I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he said, but never looked at her, just kept his eyes on the door to the building.
“What’s the deal with you and your father? Why is it so tense and formal between you?”
“Because I killed my brother.”
LYNETTE EASON
Lynette Eason grew up in Greenville, South Carolina. Her home church, Northgate Baptist, had a tremendous influence on her during her early years. She credits Christian parents and dedicated Sunday school teachers for her acceptance of Christ at the tender age of eight. Even as a young girl, she knew she wanted her life to reflect the love of Jesus.
Lynette attended the University of South Carolina in Columbia, then moved to Spartanburg to attend Converse College where she obtained her master’s degree in education. During this time, she met the boy next door, Jack Eason—and married him. Jack is the executive director of the Sound of Light Ministries. Lynette and Jack have two precious children, Lauryn, eight years old, and Will, who is six. She and Jack are members of New Life Baptist Fellowship Church in Boiling Springs, South Carolina, where Jack serves as the worship leader and Lynette teaches Sunday school to the four-and five-year olds.
Holiday
Illusion
Lynette Eason
His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness, through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.
—2 Peter 1:3–4
To Jesus Christ, who lets me do this.
I love You, Lord.
My grandmother, Freda Trowbridge, died February 2, 2008. I’m so grateful she got to read my first published book, Lethal Deception. She won’t get to finish the series this side of heaven, so I decided I wanted to make a special dedication to the memory of my grandparents:
Paternal grandparents: Lewis Carroll, Sr. and Kate Bexley Barker
Maternal grandparents: Cary Eugene and Freda Jackson Trowbridge
Thanks for being godly men and women. I know Jesus found it easy to say to each one of you, “Well done, my good and faithful servants.”
And, of course, thanks always to my family and friends who make it possible for me to write. I couldn’t do it without you.
One more special thanks goes to Barbara Lollis, one of my childhood Sunday school teachers. I’ve lost count of how many books you’ve bought to give away. I know my sales numbers are going to look great thanks to your efforts. God bless you!
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ONE
The boy was going to die.
Lucas stared down at Paulo, the nine-year-old child in the hospital bed, listening to the heart monitor blip and beep, the sound echoing through his brain as though amplified by a hundred microphones. An innocent child with no one in the world to care whether he lived or died—except the staff at the Amazon Orphanage in Tefe, Brazil.
With compassion crimping his heart, Lucas reached out a hand to brush a finger down the silky soft skin that, in the absence of a miracle, would never know a whisker. His knuckle bumped the oxygen tube attached to Paulo’s nose and he stirred, eyelids flickering up, down, then back up. The brown eyes focused in on Lucas, and the boy smiled.
“Hey, Paulo. How are you doing? Hanging in there?” The Portuguese fell from Lucas’s tongue with practiced ease.
“Sim,” the boy breathed. “I will get a new heart soon, right, Doctor?”
“Soon, Paulo, soon.” I hope. But here in Brazil, it wasn’t likely. Even in some of the bigger cities where health care was improving, a heart transplant was a rare occurrence. The boy’s best hope lay in the United States. He’d had Paulo on the list there for four months now. Paulo’s time was running out.
“If I don’t, I will die, yes?” Speaking drained his energy, but the look in Paulo’s eyes told Lucas he’d better be honest. Paulo knew all about death as he came from the slums of Brazil. A place that made the slums of America look like high-class living.
Instead of answering with a yes, Lucas asked, “How would you like to take a trip to America?”
Brown eyes shot wide, hope mingling with disbelief as he stared up his beloved doctor. “America?”
Lucas nodded. “That’s the only way you’re going to be able to get a new heart.”
“When?”
“As soon as I can arrange for someone to take you.”
“Will I get to build a snowman? I’ve always wanted to build a snowman. And see snow on Christmas day.”
It was all Lucas could do to keep the tears from his eyes. He’d been a doctor for a few years, even had patients he’d become fond of, but Paulo…He stroked the boy’s hair. “Sure thing, Paulo, as soon as we get to America and get your new heart, we’ll build a snowman for Christmas. It’ll be here before we know it.”
“He needs to go to the States?”
Lucas whirled to face the quiet voice from the door. “Anna.” As always, his heart kicked into overtime as he watched her come into the room. She’d been his best friend for three years, but lately he found himself wondering if their friendship could become something more. And yet, he was hesitant to push it further for a couple of reasons. One, he knew her faith in God was her mainstay, and he didn’t put stock in religion. You could depend on yourself and that was it. Still, he had to admit, as he’d watched her over the past few years, he was becoming more and more interested in God, simply because he saw something in her he’d never seen in anyone else. And two, she was hiding something, holding something back. And until he figured out what that was…
Short, sassy curls framed a perfect oval-shaped face that held stunning blue eyes, high cheekbones and full lips. He watched those lips stretch into a sad smile as she zeroed in on the sick child. “Hi there, Paulo.”
She didn’t ask how the boy was feeling—it was pretty obvious. Walking around to