When the man named the well-known company, Luke’s eyebrows rose. “That’s impressive. She sounds like just the kind of person we need.”
“I agree.” Father Joe leaned forward. “I haven’t met Ms. Anderson, but I’ve heard about her. One of the women in my congregation mentioned taking classes at her shop. Would you like to approach her, Matt?”
“I’ll be happy to lay the groundwork—but I think the appeal would be more effective coming from Captain Turner.” The man opened a file and removed a letter. “Father Joe shared your initial query letter with all of us. It was quite moving. No one would be able to speak as passionately—or convincingly—as you about how your friendship with Carlos motivated you to take this on. If I set up a meeting with Kelsey, would you be willing to pitch your idea and solicit her involvement?”
“Yes. That’s the kind of connection I was hoping to make while I’m here.” Luke encompassed the group as he spoke. “If any of you want me to meet with possible supporters, I’m happy to do so. And Ms. Anderson sounds like the perfect person to talk with first.”
Half an hour later, when the meeting broke up, the board had compiled a list of resources, from the owner of the piece of property they hoped would someday be the site of the youth center, to the mayor of Saugatuck, to the manager of the hotel where Carlos had worked during his high school years.
As Father Joe led him out after all the others had left, the pastor paused in the small foyer, a twinkle glinting in his irises. “I hope you weren’t planning too much R & R during your visit to Michigan. With the to-do list we’ve already put together, you won’t have a lot of downtime. We clerics are great delegators, you know.”
“Not a problem. I didn’t come here to play.”
“Glad to hear it.” The man studied him, his hand on the knob. “Not many people would take on a selfless job like this, Luke. I know you and Carlos worked together, and I understand how strong friendships can be forged on the battlefield—but I can’t help thinking there’s more driving you to tackle this project.”
Doing his best to keep his features neutral, Luke clenched his fingers around the handle of his briefcase. “I saw too much death overseas, Father. Too much wasted potential. Too many soldiers whose dreams died when they did. I can’t change that. But it is within my power to make one man’s dream come true. It seemed like a fitting way to end my military career.”
“Ah. Closure.” The older man nodded. “Well, you picked a worthy dream to pursue—and a fine young man to honor.”
“The best.” Luke’s voice hoarsened.
Father Joe opened the door and scanned the blue sky, giving Luke a moment to regain his composure. “What a beautiful day. Why don’t you take advantage of it before Matt calls and sends you off to see Kelsey Anderson?”
“I think I’ll do that.” Luke stepped past him, then turned to shake his hand. “Thank you for coordinating this.”
“The thanks are all ours.” The man returned his firm clasp. “God go with you, Luke.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“You may. He never fails those who put their trust in him.”
As Luke lifted a hand in farewell and returned to his rental car, the priest’s parting words echoed in his mind.
They were true—but like many of his comrades who’d lost their faith amid the carnage of war, his had also eventually faltered under the constant onslaught of senseless death and man’s inhumanity to man.
Carlos was the one who’d salvaged it. A young man whose heart burned with love for the Lord. Who had reminded him that in the midst of trauma and tragedy, good survived. Hope endured. Dreams flourished. Working with him day after day, watching him give tirelessly with a compassion that put the Good Samaritan to shame, had reinvigorated Luke’s own faith.
Even as he lay dying, the young medic had been a source of inspiration. He’d radiated the kind of peace that only comes from knowing you’ve done your best to follow the precepts of the Lord and are ready to meet him face-to-face. His one regret, he’d told Luke, was that his dream to help young people back home would never be realized.
As he’d held the man’s hand, watching his life slip away while artillery shells burst around them, Luke had choked out a promise that his dream wouldn’t die.
Gratitude had smoothed the lines of pain from Carlos’s face, and he’d summoned up the last of his strength to speak. When Luke leaned close, he’d whispered, “Thank you.”
And then the medic had tightened his grip and uttered two short sentences Luke would never forget.
“Let not your heart be troubled, my friend. God will bring good from this.”
Moments later, Carlos’s hand had grown slack in his.
The outline of the soaring cross above the church blurred, and Luke blinked to clear his vision. His faith wasn’t as strong as Carlos’s. Especially after ten brutal years of treating battlefield injuries. But he could make certain there was at least one positive outcome from the young man’s death.
And as he unlocked his car and slid behind the wheel, he renewed the vow he’d made that day in Afghanistan.
Before he left Michigan in six weeks, the youth center Carlos had dreamed of would be well on its way to becoming a reality.
Whatever it took.
3
The bell over the front door of the shop jingled behind her, and Kelsey scanned her watch as she typed the final figures into the spreadsheet on the computer. Ten o’clock—on the dot. It had to be the army doctor her pastor had called about yesterday. He’d said the man would stop by around ten, and the military was nothing if not regimented.
“Give me one sec.” She threw the comment over her shoulder as she hit save, trying with limited success to muster up enthusiasm for the notion of dusting off her PR skills and opening the door to her old life. But it was hard to say no to Reverend Howard—and the youth center project did sound worthwhile. Besides, it wouldn’t kill her to consult with the doctor for an hour, considering the amount of time he was investing.
Summoning up a pleasant expression, she swung around in her chair. “I’m sorry to keep you wai—”
The air whooshed out of her lungs.
Her new neighbor stood six feet away. The one with the broad shoulders and impressive biceps.
Not that his biceps were on display today. Instead of a chest-hugging T-shirt and shorts, he wore a sport coat with a subtle herringbone pattern, tan slacks, and spit-and-polished dress shoes. He looked professional. Reputable. Honorable.
And as stunned as she was.
“Kelsey Anderson?”
She opened her mouth to respond.
Nothing came out.
No surprise there. It was hard enough to breathe, let alone speak, with the man towering over her. Making her feel small. Vulnerable. Powerless.
“Well…good morning! We don’t often have gentlemen venture into our establishments.”
At Dorothy’s cheerful welcome, the man turned—buying Kelsey a few seconds to get her respiration under control.
Though the man’s tall form hid her shop mate from view, the woman’s introduction wasn’t in the least muffled. “Dorothy Martin. I own Tea for Two.” A hand shot out and swept toward the other side of the shop. “You must be the army captain Kelsey told me about. I was just making a tea and scones delivery to my lovely neighbor. She must be in the back. I’ll be happy to get her—”
Kelsey’s chair squeaked as she struggled to her feet, and Dorothy peeked around the visitor. “Oh. There you are, my dear. Did I interrupt a conversation?”
“No. I just arrived. And I’m afraid I startled Ms. Anderson.” The army doctor turned away from Dorothy and extended his hand to her. “Luke Turner.”
Kelsey edged closer, wiped her palm on her slacks, and placed her fingers in his.
As their hands connected, he flicked a quick glance down. “The burn seems to be healing well.”
Dorothy set the tea and scones on the counter and arched an eyebrow. “You two h
ave met before?”
Kelsey tugged her hand free and took a step back. “Yes. Captain—Doctor—Turner is the new neighbor I mentioned to you.” She tried to keep her inflection neutral, but Dorothy’s intent perusal indicated the other woman had picked up her nervousness.
Luke Turner’s slight squint suggested he had too.
“My goodness!” Dorothy’s hand fluttered to her chest. “What an odd coincidence.” She motioned toward the snack she’d delivered. “Why don’t I take that into the tearoom, Kelsey, and I’ll bring a pot out for you to share.”
Perfect. The closer she stayed to her dear friend, the safer she’d feel.
“That would be great. Thank you, Dorothy.” She shifted her attention to Luke. “It will be more comfortable to have our discussion on the other side of the shop.”
As she scooped up a pen and notebook from her desk, he surveyed the sturdy chairs around the table in the corner where she held classes. In truth, they would better accommodate his tall frame. But he followed her to the other side without comment.
“You two go ahead with your business while I put on a pot of tea.” Dorothy deposited Kelsey’s scones and china cup on a table for two, brushed a minuscule speck off the pristine white cloth, and hurried toward the kitchen.
Pulling out one of the dainty chairs, Luke waited until Kelsey claimed it. Then he took the one on the opposite side of the table. The furniture seemed undersized for his large frame, and Kelsey fidgeted. Insisting they move their discussion to this side of the shop had been foolish. Best to dive in so he could be on his way as quickly as possible.
“Reverend Howard was very enthusiastic about your project when he called.” She tried for a conversational tone, but her comment came out stiff.
Luke regarded her across the snowy expanse of linen, his dark brown eyes unreadable. “Before we get to that, may I ask you a question?”
A caution bell rang in her mind. “About what?”
“About why I make you nervous.”
She swallowed. “You don’t make me nervous.”
He inspected the plate in front of her.
A pile of crumbs was all that was left of the scone she’d pulverized.
Warmth flooded her cheeks, and she clasped her hands in her lap. It was silly to deny the obvious. But neither was she about to explain her reaction to this stranger.
When the silence between them lengthened, Luke rested his elbows on the table, steepled his fingers, and frowned. “Have we ever met before that day on the beach, Ms. Anderson?”
“No.”
“Then I must have done something to offend—or alarm—you during our short acquaintance.”
“No. You didn’t. This isn’t a personal issue, Captain—Doctor—which do you prefer?”
“I prefer Luke.” He let a few beats of silence tick by, his demeanor somber. “Let me be honest. This youth center is too important to fall victim to a personality…quirk—for want of a better term. We need someone with your skills to help us build public awareness, but if you don’t think we can work together, tell me now and I’ll ask the board to suggest someone else.”
Kelsey lifted her cup with shaky fingers and took a sip of tea. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
“The battlefield doesn’t offer the luxury of small talk or indecision, Ms. Anderson. Nor do I have time to waste during my stay here. I have a tremendous amount of work to do in six weeks, and I need people on board who can commit without reservations to the project.” There was a foundation of steel under what sounded like a very faint Southern drawl.
Luke Turner was a cut-to-the-chase kind of man.
Also a man with a definitive mission and destination.
“It must be nice to be so clear about what you need and where you’re heading.”
She hadn’t meant to speak that thought. Especially in a tone that was both wistful…and envious.
The man across from her seemed as surprised by it as she was. “I’m not sure how to interpret that comment.”
“Here you go. A full pot of tea and a few more scones.” Dorothy pushed through the door from the kitchen and hurried over with a laden tray. Luke rose and took it from her while she transferred the items to the table. “Thank you, young man. Such lovely manners. A true Southern gentleman. That is a Southern accent I detect, isn’t it?”
“You have an excellent ear. I’ve been gone many years, but I was born and raised in Atlanta.”
“A fine city. Well, you two go right ahead with your chat. I’ll be busy in the kitchen until my guests start arriving at eleven, but you just call out if you need anything and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
As Dorothy bustled away, Kelsey picked up the teapot and filled the doctor’s cup. “For the record, I never let personal feelings get in the way of a job. Now, in the interest of not wasting your time, why don’t you tell me about the project so I can see if it’s a fit with my skills? Reverend Howard didn’t give me many details. All he said was that you became friends with a medical corpsman from this area, and after he was killed you decided to spearhead an effort to build a youth center here in his honor as part of the Interdenominational Youth Fellowship program.”
“That about sums it up.”
Kelsey set the teapot back on the table. Her pastor had also told her Luke Turner was passionate about the project. But so far, he was exhibiting more caution than enthusiasm.
Her fault, no doubt. She’d treated him with nothing but suspicion and animosity in their few encounters. Yet from everything she’d heard and seen, he appeared to be a principled, compassionate…safe…man. What could she have to fear from a former army doctor who was backed by a board of clergy?
“Captain Turner, I—”
“Luke.”
“Luke.” She moistened her lips. “The truth is, I’m a bit battle-scarred myself—and overly wary. I apologize if I’ve offended you. Why don’t we start over?”
He lifted his cup. “I’ll drink to that.”
Following his lead, she picked up her cup, clinked it with his, and took a sip. He did too—then grimaced.
“Not a tea drinker?” She set her cup back on the saucer.
One side of his mouth hitched up. “I don’t want to offend Ms. Martin, but no. I like coffee. Strong and black.” He paused, and his humor faded. “Just like Carlos did.”
“Would you tell me about him?”
At her quiet request, Luke stared into his tea. “We worked together for six months during my last deployment. I dealt with countless medics through the years, but Carlos was special. He was only twenty-two, but he had an amazing bedside manner. With just a look or a touch, he could instill trust and calm even in the most restless patient. After he got out, he wanted to be a paramedic. He would have excelled at that job.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he took another sip of the tea he didn’t want.
“Carlos grew up in Saugatuck. His mother was unmarried, and she went to her grave without revealing the name of his father. Carlos was only five when she died, and his grandmother took him in. They were poor, and he resented that—and other circumstances of his life. He got in with the wrong crowd in his freshman year of high school, and according to him, he gave his grandmother a ton of grief.”
“Many young people go astray in those circumstances.”
“I know—as did his grandmother…and she was determined to straighten him out. So after he was picked up on a minor shoplifting charge, she got together with the police chief and the shop owner, who were personal friends, and they worked out a deal. If he assisted Father Joe with the Interdenominational Youth Fellowship program for six months, the charges would be dropped.”
“How did that go over with him?” Kelsey took a bite of the scone that was still intact.
“Not well, according to Carlos. He agreed, but only under duress. However, much to his surprise, he liked the group—and the new pastor at his church. Father Joe became the father figure he never had. According to Carlos, Father Joe and
the youth program turned his life around. Once he got out of the army and established his career, he wanted to start a fundraising drive to build a youth center for the program. A permanent place where young people could gather instead of having to move from church hall to church hall.”
“And when he died, you took that project on.”
“Yes.”
“That’s quite a commitment.”
Luke dismissed her comment with a shrug. “I needed an interlude to decompress after I left the service—and this is a worthwhile project. It’s a way to honor not just Carlos, but all the other young men and women who’ve given their lives in the line of duty. Whose dreams died with them. A huge number of them passed through my hands. There were so many we couldn’t save.” A muscle twitched in his cheek.
Pressure built in her throat, and Kelsey pushed her plate aside, folded her arms on the table, and met Luke’s gaze. “You’ve convinced me it’s a worthy project—and I’m comfortable we can work together.” Not quite true, but she’d get past that. “Why don’t you fill me in on the ideas you discussed at the board meeting yesterday, and I’ll get back to you tomorrow with a few initial thoughts.”
He assessed her for a moment, and then his features softened. “Fair enough.”
For the next fifteen minutes, he gave her a rapid-fire summary as she scribbled notes. Her tea grew cold, but her heart warmed as the passion Reverend Howard had talked of intensified, convincing her Luke had, indeed, taken on Carlos’s dream as if it were his own.
When he finished, she flexed her hand and scanned the page she’d filled. “There’s certainly plenty here to work with. I should have no trouble compiling preliminary publicity ideas by tomorrow.”
“Excellent.” He smiled at her, and suddenly the temperature in the tearoom seemed to skyrocket. “Now I’ve taken up enough of your day.” After setting his napkin on the table, he rose and extended his hand. “Thank you for meeting with me.”
Child of Grace Page 3
