Nineteen
Natalie dashed across the hall to the dormitory bathroom, makeup case in hand. She looked at her watch. Evan was probably waiting for her in the lobby right now. She’d stayed at the library far too long, but at least she had enough material to finish the English assignment that was due Friday.
She dusted blush across her cheekbones and applied a smudge of lip gloss. Her hair was in a messy ponytail atop her head, but she didn’t have time to do anything different with it. She studied her reflection in the steamed-over mirror. She’d had better days, but this would have to do.
She stuffed everything back into her makeup case, ran back to her room to scrawl a note for her roommate, shrugged into a jacket, and raced down the hall, praying she wouldn’t have to wait for the elevator.
When she stepped into the front lobby, Evan was standing there, holding his wristwatch to his ear. He wore a bulky lime-green sweatshirt that flattered his tan and made his eyes appear sapphire blue. Why did she not remember him being this good-looking in high school?
“Hi,” she said, suddenly feeling nervous. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Just a couple of hours.” He grinned. “I was starting to think either my watch was broken or you stood me up.”
“I’m sorry. I lost track of time at the library.”
“Oh, the studious type, huh? I suppose you’re here on a full-ride academic scholarship or something.”
“Please. Not hardly. But I do have to keep my grades up if I want my parents’ help with tuition.”
He eyed the light jacket she wore. “Are you sure you’ll be warm enough? It’ll be pretty cold when we’re coming back tonight.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Well, I’m not loaning you mine if you wimp out,” he said, echoing her rebuke from their last conversation.
Feeling instantly more at ease, she punched him in the arm.
Laughing, he led the way through the doors of Ford Hall and out into a crisp September evening. They walked in silence, headed south on Manhattan Avenue along the edge of the university grounds. The campus was on the threshold of its usual autumn glory. The recent chill weather had turned the treetops into molten gold and crimson, and the ivy that scaled the distinctive limestone buildings shimmered in the fading evening sunlight. The few leaves that had already fallen crunched underfoot, and the pungent scent of woodsmoke drifted on the air.
Evan managed his crutches effortlessly, gliding gracefully beside Natalie.
“Sheesh, slow down, will you?” Natalie said after she’d struggled to keep up with him for several blocks. She put her hands on her hips and puffed as if she’d just run a mile. Evan beamed.
“Told you they didn’t name me—”
“Yeah, yeah,” she interrupted, singsonging, “Mr. All-State Running Man.”
“Running man?” He almost doubled over laughing.
“What?” she said.
“It’s running back,” he corrected, still laughing.
“Whatever.”
“I take it you don’t watch much football?”
“Is that the one where they try to get the little white ball through a hoop and score a home run?” she asked.
He howled and turned a pirouette around his crutches in the middle of the sidewalk. “Okay. That does it. Saturday afternoon begins the real education of Miss Natalie Camfield.”
“Oh, no,” she moaned, catching on.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “You will be in the stands with me bright and early Saturday when the Wildcats kick off.”
“How bright and early are we talking?”
“You goose,” he joked. “The game starts at two. You can sleep till noon. Unless you want to eat pizza with me before the game.” Now his tone was hopeful.
“Sleeping till noon I can handle. But pizza—even better.”
“So it’s a date?”
“Unless you do something that really annoys me before this date is over.”
He paused to wrap an arm around one crutch. Balancing himself, he put a hand to his chest and affected a shocked expression. “Moi?”
“Yes, you.”
“Hey, wait a minute …” Now he leaned on one crutch and faced her. “You said before this date is over … So this is a date, huh?”
She felt the blood rise to her face. “Well … you know what I mean. ‘Date’ in the ‘social engagement’ sense of the word.”
“Oh, so now we’re engaged?”
“No! Evan! Good grief!” She folded her arms in front of her. “I’m not saying another word.”
“Good idea … at the rate you’re going, we’ll be married, have three kids and a house in the suburbs by the time I get you back to the dorm.”
She couldn’t hold back the laughter now, and he joined in. His full lips parted to reveal white, even teeth, and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. Get a grip, Camfield. It’s only Evan, remember?
They walked for ten minutes before they came to Aggieville. The often-raucous college section of town was relatively quiet early on a Wednesday evening. A couple of the bars and eateries were doing a pretty good business, but most of the shops were closed for the day. and the streets were almost empty.
They continued on a few more blocks until Evan stopped in front of a pale brick church building. A sign in the front declared the facility to be COMMUNITY CHRISTIAN CENTER.
“This way.” Evan followed a jog in the sidewalk and led her around to a side entrance. They went through the door and down a narrow flight of stairs, then wove their way through a maze of hallways until the sound of laughter drew them into a room at the end of one hall. There were at least a dozen other college-age students there.
A husky, bearded man jumped up from his perch on a shabby sofa. “Hey, guys! Welcome! Come on in.” He extended a hand to Evan. “I’m Rob Gray. You were here last week, right? Evan, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Evan nodded, then turned to Natalie and winked. “This is my date, Natalie Camfield.”
“Good to have you here, Natalie. You guys help yourselves”—he indicated a long table laden with drinks and snacks—“and we’ll get started in just a minute.”
Natalie and Evan found seats together in the circle of castoff sofas and easy chairs that furnished the large room.
A couple of coeds accompanied them on guitar while they sang worship choruses, and then Rob led a short study of the New Testament book of Romans. Natalie didn’t take part in the discussion, preferring just to listen, but she was surprised at how vocal—and how articulate—Evan was. Judging from the insights he shared, he had changed a great deal in the months since the accident.
When they walked out of the church around nine o’clock, the sky was dark and there was a nip in the air. Natalie pulled her jacket tighter around her torso and put her head down against the brisk breeze.
“So what did you think?” Evan asked.
“I liked it,” she said, honestly. “Rob gets a tad too excited about some of that stuff, but it was interesting.”
Evan laughed easily and tilted his head toward her. “Wait up,” he said and paused. He took off his coat and handed it to her. “Your lips are turning blue,” he explained. “Put it on.”
Natalie blushed. “But you said—”
“I don’t want you to freeze to death on the way home.” He smiled, then said, “Wimp.”
“Hey!”
They walked back along Manhattan Avenue, and before she knew it, they were standing in front of Ford Hall.
“Thanks for inviting me, Evan,” Natalie told him, one hand on the door to the lobby. “It was a fun date.”
He grinned. “Well, don’t forget we have another one Saturday.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“I’ll pick you up at noon sharp, okay?”
“I’ll be waiting. Oh, don’t forget your coat.” She took if off and handed it to him, then went inside, and hurried to the stairwell. She ran up to the third floor and watched him from a lo
bby window until he disappeared into the night. She was still smiling when she flopped onto the bed in her dorm room.
Evan Greenway got off the elevator on the fifth floor of Haymaker, hobbled down the hallway to his room, and turned the key in the lock. Good. His roommate was still out for the night. He and Tom DeVane got along fine, but he wasn’t in the mood to answer any questions. Not to mention that he was in terrible pain.
Evan leaned the crutches against the wall and grimaced. He turned his hands over and inspected them. Angry blisters had risen on his palms and on his right hand, a raw sore between his thumb and index finger oozed. Gingerly, he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, along with the long-sleeved T-shirt he wore underneath. The muscles in his arms throbbed. What had he been thinking, walking such a distance tonight? Well, he was going to pay for it, that was for sure. Macho man, indeed.
He smiled to himself. It didn’t matter. It had been worth it. In spite of the nagging pain he’d managed to hide from her, he had loved every minute he’d spent with Natalie Camfield.
It was strange. After suffering from a desperate crush on the girl since at least the fifth grade, in the months since the accident he’d almost gotten over her. He knew God deserved some of the credit for that. The old Evan Greenway had had some pretty messed-up priorities in his life BTW—before the wreck. In the process of finally getting some things straight—of realizing that he made a lousy lord and master of his own life—he hadn’t given Natalie much thought. But wasn’t it just like God to allow Natalie back in his life now?
He showered, wincing as the hot water stung the chafed flesh on his hands, but sighing as the heat soothed his aching muscles. Later, as he lay in the dark, his hair damp on the pillow, he wrestled with a troubling thought—a dormant memory that he knew had been disturbed by Natalie’s nearness these past few days. He didn’t know what she remembered about the night of the accident. They hadn’t talked about it since that very first meeting in the student union. His own memories of the events leading up to the tragedy were pretty fuzzy, but he did have one clear image in his mind from that night. It played in his mind like a silent movie now: Natalie in front of him, her face luminous in the flickering light from the bonfire. And him, reaching into a cooler, drawing out a bottle of beer and offering it to her. He couldn’t be sure, but given his modus operandi of those days, chances were good that he’d given her more than one beer that night. Did she know that? Did she remember that he’d been the one to supply her “poison” that night?
As he drifted to sleep, he prayed that he would have the courage to talk to her about it. To—What was it he needed to do? Ask her forgiveness? Yes. He needed to do that.
The thought terrified him. He longed to bury the memory, pretend it had never been roused. He realized with chagrin that it was within him to do just that—to deny the holy nudging he’d felt only moments ago. Yet he knew that would be wrong. Temptation latched on to him like a snare, and he fell asleep in its hungry claws.
Twenty
The crowd streamed out of the stadium and across the network of parking lots and fields that led back to campus. Natalie had enjoyed the game and had actually learned a few things about football.
Beside her, Evan maneuvered through the mob, using his crutches to cut a wider swath for the two of them.
“I have to admit that was kind of fun, but I still don’t see what the big attraction is,” she said. “It’s just a funny-shaped leather ball, and a bunch of guys in weird outfits are chasing it around.”
He secured the crutch under his right arm long enough to slap the ball of his hand against his forehead in mock frustration. “Uniforms, Natalie. Uniforms.”
“Huh?”
“Not ‘outfits.’ They’re called uniforms.”
“Whatever.”
He laughed, and she rewarded his good humor with a smile.
“You want to go somewhere for dinner?”
“Oh, let’s just eat at Derby, Evan. You’ve already spent too much money on pizza at lunch.”
“Okay. Do you need to go back to the dorm first?”
She shook her head. “You?”
“Nope. I’m good to go.”
They laughed and joked all the way across campus, and it suddenly hit Natalie that she couldn’t remember when she’d felt so happy. It had been a long time … a very long time.
She looked over at Evan and was troubled to see him wince. He caught her watching him and glanced away, quickly wiping the grimace off his face.
“Hey,” she said, “are you okay?”
He nodded and otherwise ignored her question. “I wonder what’s on the menu tonight,” he said.
“Evan, are you all right? You look like you’re in pain.”
He stopped midstride, and arranged the crutches side by side in front of him. Then, leaning his elbows atop the crutch handles, he looked her square in the eye. “If you must know, I am in agonizing pain.” The truth of his statement was evident in the squint of his eyes and the creases etched on his forehead.
“Evan! What’s wrong?”
A strange, embarrassed smile came to his face as he confessed in minced syllables. “These crutches are rubbing my hands raw.” He held out his palms for her inspection.
“Oh, ouch,” she said. But suddenly, thinking about all his strutting and swaggering the other day, she wanted to laugh. Her efforts to hold in her laugher resulted in a very unladylike snort, and finally she quit trying to appear sympathetic. “So, ol’ Mr. All-State Running Back got some bwisters on his widdle hands?” she snickered.
“Okay,” he cut in wryly, looking like the proverbial cat who’d just swallowed the canary. “So I’m not quite as macho as you were first led to believe.”
She snorted again, and he lifted a crutch and wielded it as a lance. “Stop, I say.”
Skipping ahead of him, she parried his blows. With surprising speed, he hobbled after her on one crutch, thrusting the other in her direction. Natalie squealed when she glanced back and realized he was gaining on her. She left the sidewalk, but the path she took went uphill. She stumbled, and the grassy hillside came flying to meet her.
Fortunately, his “weapon” was within handy reach, and she grabbed it for support. Unfortunately, he was off balance when she did so, so when she went down, she dragged him with her.
She landed on her back in a pile of leaves, squeezing her eyes shut as she toppled. But when she heard leaves crunching in her ears, she opened her eyes and saw that Evan was precariously balanced over her, his hands planted on either side of her head, holding him up. She struggled to sit up, which undid the tentative chance Evan had of remaining upright.
They both went sprawling, and when she opened her eyes again, Evan was gazing at her with an expression on his handsome face that could only be interpreted as “I want to kiss you.”
For one moment panic rose in her. He was going to ruin everything. She wasn’t ready for their relationship to move so quickly. But before she could think of an escape, he struggled to his feet and turned away from her. He bent at the waist and began vigorously brushing crushed leaves from his hair.
“Are you okay?” he asked, breathless.
She could only nod.
As if he’d just realized she was still on the ground, he said, “Here, let me help you.”
She took the hand he offered, and he pulled her up in one smooth motion, but when she let go he clenched his blistered palm in pain.
“Ooh, sorry about that,” she said, taking his hand, turning it over, and inspecting the raw flesh. “That looks painful.”
“I’m okay,” he said between gritted teeth. He pressed his fingers to hers, matching fingertip to fingertip, and they stood that way for several seconds, not speaking.
She’d felt grateful that she had evaded his kiss, but now, with his warm fingers gently intertwined with hers, and his gaze upon her, she wondered if she was in any less peril. She willed her heart to begin beating again and wrested her hand from his grasp, ostens
ibly brushing grass and leaves from her own hair and clothing.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked. The genuine concern in his voice touched her.
“I’m fine.” She forced a laugh, then turned serious. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” As if to prove it, he hopped over to collect the crutches, which had gone two different directions in the skirmish.
She giggled.
“What?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his own voice.
“I wish somebody had caught that on video.” She giggled harder.
“No you don’t,” he assured her.
“Seriously. I don’t think we could repeat that again if we choreographed it. Not like we’d want to,” she added quickly.
He gave her a sidewise glance. “Oh, I don’t know. It was actually kind of fun.”
“Are you kidding? My heart is still beating a hundred beats a minute.”
“Yeah, I have that effect on all the women.”
You have no idea, buddy, she thought.
Man! You blew it, Greenway! he chided himself. Why didn’t you just kiss her and get it over with? You know you wanted to.
He had just walked Natalie to Ford Hall and was headed back to Haymaker. He hadn’t tried to kiss her good night there either. Two perfect opportunities blown. And he’d had the sneaking impression that she wanted him to kiss her as badly as he wanted to oblige. He must be losing his nerve. He’d never been hesitant with the ladies before. He’d always been a smooth talker and a smoother performer.
But Natalie was different. She was special.
And he was different now too, he reminded himself. Maybe that was the deeper reason. If his priorities had truly changed since he’d started trying to live for a higher purpose, then what was his hurry?
The old fear rose in him, and he felt a strong urge to call Natalie. He needed to hear in her voice that she felt about him the way he did about her.
After the Rains Page 17
