Sharon Sala - Romans Heart (The Justice Way)

Roman's Heart

Book Jacket

This book is about survivors.

No matter how difficult we try to make it, life is simple. It's just a matter of identifying our weaknesses and surviving the trials and tribulations that come with them. Some of us persevere. Some of us fail.

During my lifetime, I have met many people whom I admire. People who've endured and overcome great odds to become the person God meant them to be.

I have been blessed in knowing a man like that.

To a man who has faced true and deep despaira man who knows better than most what it takes to survive.

To Bobby. This book is for you.

Chapter One

At was the sensation of needles poking into the skin on her face that brought the woman to, and when she opened her eyes, the scream that came out of her mouth made a nearby hawk take flight. Framed by the panorama of majestic mountains clothed in the new green of spring, the view was breathtaking. But it wasn't the view that had caused her reaction. It was the binding sensation of the parachute strapped to her body, as well as the fact that she was caught in the highest branches of a towering pine and dangling far above the ground.

In terror, she grabbed for the straps. The sudden movement sent her swaying in the breeze like a flapping shirt on a clothesline. And the weight of her body, coupled with the abruptness of the motion, made the fabric of the parachute rip even more, sending her slipping through the branches to the ground below. She looked down in horror, knowing that if she fell now, it would more than likely kill her.

God help me.

At that moment the fabric snagged and then held on another great branch, stopping her dangerous descent. With her heart thundering in her eardrums, she closed her eyes in a silent prayer of thanksgiving. In the blessed quiet that followed, a terrifying realization hit. Yes, she was stranded in a tree and dangling from a parachute, and as soon as she'd opened her eyes, a small part of her had accepted that fact without wondering why or how it had happened. But just now, when she'd been about to give thanks to the Almighty for still breathing, a great gap in her memory became fact.

"No! Oh, no!"

She reached for her face, testing the shape and texture of each feature, as if touching it for the first time. She wished for a mirroror anything that would give back a reflection, because right now she didn't remember who she was.

Stifling a quick shaft of fear, she reminded herself that it wasn't a name she needed right now. What she needed was a way to get down.

She reached toward a nearby branch, and again the movement sent her into motion. Twisting and spinning like a yo-yo on a tangled string, she grabbed onto the straps, willing herself not to panic.

When she could think without wanting to shriek, she began another approach. Maybe she should consider her injuries. The ones she already had were miserable but minor. Adding more could be the difference between being able to walk away from this and dying.

Okay, where does it hurt the worst?

And then she almost laughed. As best she could tell, the answer was everywhere. The question shouldn't have been where does it hurt, but how much?

One thing was for certain. Her lower lip was throbbing, and there was a coppery taste in her mouth that made her stomach roll. She reached toward the ache with the tip of her finger, wincing when it came in contact with what felt like a cut.

She closed her eyes and groaned, then leaned to one side and spit, unwilling to swallow her own blood. And while her skin stung as if it had been flailed, the throbbing pain in her head was far worse. It was no surprise to discover a large knot just above the hairline. But when her hand came away bloody, as well, she jerked back in shock. Again, the motion sent her swaying precariously within the branches.

"Easy, easy," she muttered, deliberately taking deep breaths and exhaling slowly after each one. When the movement had ceased without her having fallen any farther, she relaxed.

As she continued to dangle helplessly above the ground, a stiff breeze came up, blasting its way through the pines and blowing her hair into her eyes. When she ventured another look at the sun sinking into the western horizon, panic returned. It would be dark soon. Time was running out.

And while she feared the act would be hopeless, she began to shout, knowing full well that there probably wasn't a human being within miles who could hear.

"Help!" she called, shouting over and over until the word was a scream and her throat was burning from the strain.

An eerie echo bounced back with each shout, and she felt helpless against the fear she heard in her voice.

A startled deer bolted from a nearby thicket. She groaned, envious of its mobility. Off to her left, a squirrel scolded, and something fell through the branches from above, hitting the side of her cheek as it passed.

"Ouch!" she cried, cupping her face.

Blinking through tears, she looked down, watching as a large pine cone ricocheted from branch to branch before hitting the ground. The sight sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling in the pit of her stomach. Quickly closing her eyes to reorient herself within the space in which she was hanging, she kept reminding herself that she hadn't been what was falling. It was only a pine cone that had taken the plunge.

Again, the squirrel's strident chatter broke the silence of her thoughts, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself at eye level and within feet of the bushy-tailed rodent. The little animal's aggressive behavior was unnerving.

"Get!" she said shortly, and the squirrel's pivot on the branch was as neat and swift as a square dancer's step.

With a flick of its tail, it scampered back the way it had come, and as she watched, truth dawned! The squirrel had just shown her the way down. All she needed to do was straddle a branch and then inch her way backward toward the trunk of the tree. After that, she could use the branches like steps on a ladder. In theory, it was simple. But there were the parachute straps to dispense with, and she reminded herself, she was not a squirrel. She had to find branches strong enough to hold her weight.

A few minutes later, she had maneuvered herself into position. Straddling a branch, she ignored the rough bark and sticky pine needles as she locked her legs around its circumference. And while she felt comfortable with the fact that the branch would hold her weight, the true test of her faith came as she unbuckled the parachute and let go of the straps. As they slipped through her fingers to dangle down through the branches, she saw that even they were pointing the way down. She began her descent.

The pale green pants and sweater she was wearing were no protection to her body. By the time she reached the last limb, her clothes looked as if she'd been carrying a panicked cat through a room full of barking dogs. There were snags, pulls and tears everywhere it mattered. And if that wasn't enough of an insult, she had run out of limbs a good ten feet from the ground.

Her hands were raw and the skin all over her body felt as if it were on fire. The throb in her head was making her sick, and she knew that the jolt of her landing would only make things worse. But there was no other way to get down. With one last look below, she let go of the limb with her legs, letting them dangle over the floor of the forest.

And then she let go.

The smell of rotting vegetation was suddenly strong in her nostrils as she hit feet first, and then pitched forward, falling onto her hands and knees and plowing through the mat of leaves on the-forest floor. But she was down, and from what she could tell, still healthy enough to move.