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  Color Blind

  An Interracial Christian Romance

  God had to blind him for him to truly see

  Book One of the “Able to Love” Series

  By Michelle Lindo-Rice

  ~~~

  Smashwords Edition

  Michelle Lindo-Rice

  P.O. Box 495792, Port Charlotte, FL 33949

  Color Blind Copyright © 2014 Michelle Lindo- Rice

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be re-produced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of 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

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Reader Guide Questions

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  I thank God for giving me the vision to write my first novella. His Holy Spirit guides me. I need him throughout the entire process.

  Thanks to my sons, Eric Michael and Jordan Elijah, who let me follow my passion.

  Thanks to author Rhonda McKnight. She’s a true mentor. Thanks to Felicia Murrell. Her editing skills and work ethic is above par.

  Thanks to Michelle Stimpson who wrote the book, 21 Days to Publishing. I used this guide to help me with the behind-the-scenes stuff to get this book published.

  Thank you to everyone who will one-click this book. I hope you enjoy and receive a blessing.

  Dedicated to

  My sons, Eric and Jordan: May you both find real love without fear.

  “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out all fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love.” I John 4:18

  Chapter One

  Was that who he thought it was? Saul Sweeterman arched his wiry body over the steering wheel and peered through the windshield. His wiper blades sloshed away the fury of the pounding rain but it was difficult for him to see.

  It was three o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon in May. Like clockwork, it was pouring rain. But even in the rain, he could see.

  It was her.

  He gazed at the passenger in the vehicle across the lane from him. Indeed, there sat his daughter, Cassandra Matthews, who hadn’t spoken to him in three long, agonizing years.

  Sitting at the intersection of Veterans Blvd and Atwater Ave., he was glad for the red traffic light because he’d been given a precious glimpse of his beloved Cassandra. Eyeing her black, no, African-American, husband, Kellan Matthews, resentment filled his heart. Saul’s lips became as ugly as his feelings transforming into a harsh, angry line. Kellan was the reason he’d lost Cassandra.

  Saul spotted a little head bouncing up and down in the rear seat behind his daughter’s seat. He tilted his head to get a better look. His granddaughter, Emily, was a beauty. There was no denying that. But, Saul’s problem was that she was biracial, and Saul couldn’t accept that. The races shouldn’t mix. He didn’t advocate slavery or apartheid, but Saul drew the line at interracial dating and marriage. It just shouldn’t be done. That’s what his parents had drilled into him from a child. It had been ingrained into his belief system. If pressed, he wouldn’t be able to provide a legitimate argument as to why he held such a firm belief, but Saul didn’t need one for something so intrinsically unnatural.

  He had friends who were of a different race, but he’d never crossed that line. He hadn’t felt the need to explain this to his daughter either. He had assumed that it was just understood. Saul had been wrong. He sighed. He’d made a fatal mistake when he hadn’t spelled things out to his daughter.

  “But your best friend, Uncle Marvin, is black,” Cassandra protested the day she broke the news that she was pregnant and getting married to a black man. She pointed over to the picture frame displayed on the mantle.

  Saul followed the direction of her finger and smiled with fondness. Marvin was a goofball and committed to the game. They’d spent hours bonding over basketball until an injury ended Marvin’s chances in the NBA. Marvin didn’t let that deter him, though. He kept on going. “Yes, but, that’s because we played ball together. Marvin Alton was the exception. He married his own kind.”

  “You’re prejudiced!” Cassandra screamed. She clenched her fists and got right up in his face like she was ready to fight him. Like she wanted to hit him.

  “Don’t you fix your mouth to say those words,” Saul said. “I’m not prejudiced—I just have my preferences. I’m being realistic. Your child will have a lot of issues to deal with. He or she will struggle with developing an identity.”

  “Are you listening to yourself?” Cassandra scoffed. She turned her head away from him blocking him from reading her face.

  Saul remembered turning her head to face him. He looked into blue eyes so like his own, and touched her corn silk blond hair before saying, “Don’t marry him, Cassandra. Don’t have this baby.”

  She gasped and turned from him in one single motion. Shame crawled up his spine. Saul wasn’t going to take his words back. He didn’t believe in abortion, but this was a unique situation. This constituted an emergency.

  “In this day and time you’re asking me to be ashamed that I’m in love? When I told you about Kellan you sang his praises and encouraged me not to let such a promising young man, as you called him, slip away.”

  “Yes, but that was when I thought… I mean Kellan didn’t sound like a…” Saul sputtered.

  “A what? A black name?” Cassandra’s eyebrows creased. She raised her hands to still his words. “Dad, please stop talking. You’re going off every stereotype in the book and it shocks and saddens me. You’re behaving like a dinosaur. I love Kellan and my baby, and we’re going to get married.”

  With a patriarchal tone and a wide swoop of his hands, Saul dictated, “Well, I want no part of it. If you marry him, don’t expect me to walk you down the aisle and smile and pretend I’m all right with you marrying someone you barely know—what’s it been five months?”

  Tears filled her eyes. Saul knew he’d hurt her, but he wasn’t backing down.

  Cassandra was just as stubborn. She walked out of his house, married Kellan and had her child without him. The only move Cassandra made was to send him a picture of Emily when she was born. Saul had the picture buried under some papers in his nightstand, but he never initiated contact.

  The rain poured. Saul stared at his daughter, as the minutes
crept by. She looked so much like Nora. He could hardly bear it. He shifted his eyes to look in the rearview mirror.

  “What the?” He scrunched forward. Was he seeing right? There was a semi speeding in his direction. The moron was driving too fast for the slick roads. He wouldn’t be able to brake in time. Saul’s body clenched. This was an accident waiting to happen and the driver showed no signs of slowing down.

  “Slow down! Slow down!”

  The truck jumped the midline. Oh, no! He was heading straight for Cassandra’s car. Saul’s heart rate escalated. His palms sweated. He turned his body to get a good look behind him. Oh, boy, the truck wasn’t going to stop. For a few tense seconds, Saul debated. He jumped out of his truck. “Cassandra! Kellan!” he yelled. They were playing with Emily in the back seat.

  Soaked, Saul scuttled towards his truck. There was only one way to circumvent what was coming. Saul knew what he had to do. He started the engine and slammed on the accelerator, praying his sturdy F-150 could take a hit. The truck driver must have finally caught on. Saul heard the sharp squeal of brakes. The semi began to spin on the slick road.

  Saul continued driving. Cassandra and Kellan saw him at the same time. Their faces mirrored expressions of shock and horror as they looked up and saw the semi truck coming towards them. Saul registered their furious efforts to get Emily out of her car seat. “Get out the car,” he roared. Kellan jumped into the rear seat and covered his daughter with his body.

  A millisecond before impact, Saul swung his truck in front of their vehicle. The semi truck rear-ended him. Saul’s F150 swung out into the ditch. He felt the crushing effect of steel against steel. Saul’s body reeled as he narrowly missed being hurled into the street. Cassandra’s car was now an easy target. The semi truck screeched to a halt as it slammed into their car. Saul heard screams and then a boom as glass shattered.

  “Cassandra!” he wailed, willing his body to move, to go to his daughter, but a strong force pulled him slowly into blackness. As he succumbed, Saul heard a faint whisper in his ear, “Saul.” The quiet voice soothed him and peace reigned as he drifted off. Then suddenly, all was silent and blessed quietness engulfed him.

  Chapter Two

  Six weeks later

  Aniyah Hays knocked twice and then pushed the door open to Saul Sweeterman’s room in the rehab wing of Fawcett Memorial. The lights were off and the curtains drawn. For a moment, she entertained the notion that Dracula waited to suck her blood dry. She grinned. Dismissing her fanciful thoughts, she slid the curtains back and turned on the lights.

  “I didn’t say come in.” Saul Sweeterman snarled.

  Now she knew why everyone on the floor called him Meanerman. She rushed to identify herself. “Mr. Meaner—er—Sweeterman. I’m Annie Hays, your physical therapist.”

  “I don’t need a physical therapist,” he answered. “I survived a punctured lung and a damaged spleen. I’m confident that in time, I’ll be able to walk just fine. What I need to do is get out of here.”

  Annie counted to ten then employed de-escalation strategies, not wanting to rile his temper. With a light touch to his arm, she said, “Yes, in time, you will get out of here. But you’re looking at at least another month or so before you can walk on that foot.”

  “Don’t patronize me. I’m not four years old!” In a swooping motion, he reacted, shrugging her hand off his arm. She wasn’t prepared for his strength and found herself flung across the room. She crashed into the food tray.

  He swung his head in her direction. “I—ah—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” His gruff manner depicted a man who was uncomfortable with apologizing.

  Annie didn’t register his answer. Her mind was on two things. The first was that Saul Sweeterman had the most riveting pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. The second was that they were unfocused and zoomed on a spot above her head. Sweeterman was blind. She’d read that when she reviewed his chart.

  “Are you hurt? Ms. Hays, please answer me. I can’t see for myself.” He pointed out the obvious.

  Annie nodded, before catching herself. She cleared her throat and found her voice. “Yes—I’m fine. No harm done.”

  So the bear had a gentle side. Interesting. Since he couldn’t tell, she stared him down, taking in his blond hair and his imperial jawbone. He was super-hot. No one had mentioned that pertinent fact. And, those deep blue eyes reminded her of the clear Florida sky. Whew! She could stare into those orbs for days.

  Then, he spoke. “You might as well leave and work on someone else because I’m not moving from this bed.”

  And, the Beast is back. Annie rolled her eyes but ignored him. She hummed, Tamela Mann’s, “Take me to the King” and pulled the sheet back away from his leg. She wasn’t going to chance a kick to her rib cage, so she notified him of her intentions. “Mr. Sweeterman, I’m going to examine your leg.” Though she was petite, she had strong hands.

  He jerked his foot in protest. “Don’t touch me.”

  “I have to if I want to help you get back to normal. Dr. Pryor removed the cast, but you still have pins and screws in your leg. You’ve been immobile, but Dr. Pryor is thinking you’re healing well enough to put you in a plastic walking cast.” She made sure to keep her tone firm, so he’d know she meant business. She’d handled football players and basketball players. Annie wasn’t about to let this one intimidate her.

  “My left leg was broken in two places,” he growled. “But I’m able to get myself to the bathroom.”

  “You shouldn’t be out of bed, Mr. Sweeterman. You need to wait for someone to assist you. She lifted his leg with expert precision. “Your muscles are sore and tense. I’ll work this out for you but you need to stay off your feet until Dr. Pryor says it’s okay.” She massaged both his legs.

  He emitted a distinct masculine groan of pleasure, followed by a grunt of pain. Sympathy tore at her. “I’m sorry. It will feel better in a few minutes.”

  The angry line that was his lips curved a little. She saw a hint of a smile. “I can’t wait to experience that feeling. It’s been awhile.”

  She caught the double entendre. So, he was a flirt. She blushed and was surprised to find her heart beating faster. She cleared her throat and kept her tone professional. “I’m going to release the knots. It’ll be uncomfortable for a minute, but then…” she trailed off, continuing her ministrations, until she heard a distinct release of breath.

  “Ahh, I had no idea I was in pain. My legs feel like butter.”

  Annie had received this reaction from patients so many times in her career, that she’d been dubbed Magic Hands. With a pat on his leg, Annie said, “That’s it for today. Tomorrow we work on getting you fitted for your cast and on your feet.”

  “Five more minutes please?” he begged.

  Annie prided herself on her ability to remain detached. She had already stayed beyond the stipulated forty minutes. “A few more minutes, but then I have to go. I have other patients.”

  She hummed while she continued the massage before she said, “I’ll be back on Wednesday to work with you again. In the meantime, please don’t overextend your leg.”

  He nodded. “How many days will you be seeing me?”

  “Twice a week.”

  “Oh.” He sounded disappointed. She knew from the nurses that he hadn’t had any visitors. Why should she care?

  “I’m here in the hospital every day, though, so I’ll swing by and check on you.” She could’ve bitten her tongue. Had she really uttered those words? She wondered as she departed his room.

  “You survived Meanerman,” her best friend, nurse Sari Noonan, said.

  Annie smiled and winked. “He was sort of sweet,” she mused, knowing she had a sappy look on her face.

  Sari looked at her like she was crazy. “Sweet?

  Annie grinned at the look on Sari’s face. As she strolled towards the elevator, she admitted she was actually looking forward to seeing Saul again. As luck would have it, she ran into Sari on her next scheduled vi
sit.

  Sari shook her head when she saw where she was headed. “Good luck with him. He’s in rare form. I told Dr. Pryor that I was through working with him. My job is to help and to heal not to be humiliated.”

  “Keep your head up,” Annie reassured her friend. With a question in her eyes, she crept into the room. Her eyes scanned the tossed tray and the food contents splattered all across the room. Why had he done this? Lord, please guide me and lead me. She felt a tiny frisson of fear akin to Daniel entering the lion’s den. Annie berated herself. He’s a man, not a lion.

  He could pass for one though. She placed a hand over her mouth with shock. Seeing his mane of hair all helter-skelter and his unshaven beard did sort of make him look like the king of the jungle.

  “I can hear you breathing,” he spat. “So identify yourself. I’m blind, not deaf.”

  His rudeness spurred her temper. She swooped all the contents off the floor and snatched one of the bed linens to clean the linoleum. She knew she could summon housekeeping, but Annie needed a moment to gather her wits or she was going to wring his neck with her bare hands.

  “Are you going to answer me?” he hurled in her direction.

  “Quit roaring at me,” she snapped and went into the bathroom to wash her hands. She strode towards the door. She didn’t have to put up with this rude behavior. Sari hadn’t warned her enough. “I don’t get paid enough to be insulted.”

  “No, Annie, come back! Please!” he roared pulling himself upright.

  Her hand stilled. He called her Annie. She spun around. “Being a patient doesn’t give you the right to be insufferable and mean.”