by JoAnn Durgin
If he thought she’d find amusement in that comment, he’d be disappointed. “I didn’t expect such a clichéd response from you.” With more than a pinch of regret, Marta slipped her hand from his grasp. “I’m sure you’re doing what you believe is somehow justified, but how long are you going to keep exposing yourself to danger? Keep playing these games?”
Something in Eliot’s eyes hardened at her comment. Great. Her use of the word games might have been ill-founded, but how could she know? Seemed she’d already managed to alienate and possibly even anger him, and that was regrettable. Based on his response, he’d interpreted her empathy as pity. Stubborn man.
“I suggest we keep moving,” he said. The shades were back in place; it could be that his eye was especially sensitive to the sunlight. Even if he wanted, Eliot couldn’t hide that black eye from the rest of the crew for long. Guaranteed, those sunglasses would be off by dinner.
Marta angled her head to the east. “The camp’s not much farther. This way.” Eliot trudged silently beside her. Holding her tongue around this man did not always come easily. Hopefully he understood it was just as she’d told him—she cared about him. Deeply. More than she probably should.
Good job, Marta. What an inauspicious start to the mission.
Chapter 4
~~♥~~
Eliot deposited Angelina and Sheila’s bags in the women’s dorm. He tried to ignore the look of hurt on Marta’s face as he headed across the camp. Yeah, he hadn’t handled that well. He’d speak with her later in the day once he got his head on straight. A few minutes spent in prayer before dinner would be advisable. Jet lag never helped his disposition. Hopefully he could grab some decent shut-eye tonight.
As he entered what he assumed was the men’s dorm, based on the map Sam had e-mailed to him last week, the outer screen door slammed behind him. After removing his sunglasses and lowering his duffel bag to the floor, Eliot paused a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the much dimmer light inside the small building. Hard cement floors and steel walls. Basic and utilitarian conditions but at least it wasn’t primitive. He’d seen worse. Lived for weeks in them.
From what he knew, this was an old church camp that hadn’t been used much in the past few years, replaced by a newer, updated campsite a few miles away. For their two-week mission, these facilities offered everything they’d need. As always, Sam had scouted out this location to make certain everything was functional and met the safety specifications, especially with the kids in tow.
“Hey, Eliot!” Mitch stood beside a bed in the middle of the room but crossed the room to give him a quick man-hug. “Glad you could make the mission. Looks like you’ve been someone else’s hero since I last saw you.”
“Good to see you, too, buddy.” After Sam called him in to find Mitch in New Orleans last month, he’d located him easily enough, but the poor guy had been severely dehydrated, near-starved, beaten, and left to waste away in a hole unfit for swine. In spite of the strange circumstances of their meeting, he’d liked and admired Mitch immediately. Not much was more gratifying than returning a missing person to their loved ones, especially a brother in the faith. Normally he’d locate the person and then slip out the door before moving on to the next assignment. Mitch’s situation had been unique and Eliot looked forward to getting to know him better.
“How are you healing up?”
“Almost good as new. Cassie still gets after me if I try to lift something heavy or do too much.”
“She’s a good woman.” Eliot had known Cassie since the TeamWork volunteers traveled to Montana a few years ago on a personal mission to help Marc and Natalie Thompson. A pretty girl with long auburn hair and a gracious demeanor, Cassie had a deceptively soft Alabama accent that belied a backbone of steel. From what he knew of Mitch, their personalities would complement one another.
Eliot shot a cursory glance around the room. A long row of twin beds lined the far wall and a couple of desks sat on the opposite side of the room. All of the guys except Sam would be housed in this building. Their TeamWork director and his family had their own quarters with a small attached office on the opposite side of the camp. According to the plan, Winnie and Natalie would share a dorm with their kids, but Josh and Marc would bunk here so they could come and go from the worksite without disturbing their families.
“This should be fun,” Eliot said. “Hope snoring doesn’t bother anyone.”
Mitch laughed. “Are you admitting you snore?”
“Nah. I just know there’ll be some sad sap romantics in this bunch who’ll be lying awake missing their wives. Do you know where I’m expected to bunk for the duration?”
Mitch pointed to the far corner. “Dean arrived a few minutes ago and picked the bed by the window. The bunk next to it is open.”
“Great. Sounds good.” Talk about sorry saps. If he didn’t get himself under control, he’d be worse than the married guys on this mission. Maybe he could learn a few things from them. Get some advice. Marta had hit too close to home with her jab about him playing games. If only she knew. She couldn’t know, and therein was the crux of his conflict. Considering the work camp hadn’t even started, he was in big trouble when it came to the gorgeous, feisty blonde with incredible eyes.
Retrieving his duffel bag, Eliot tossed it on the bed outfitted with clean sheets and a lightweight blanket. The chocolate candy on the pillow made him smile. He appreciated the unexpected, welcoming touch. Courtesy of Lexa and Winnie, no doubt, since they’d arrived last week with their families in order to clean and set up the camp.
Mitch’s forehead furrowed. “Listen, I’m sorry to hit you up with this right off the bat, but—if you haven’t already heard—Kevin’s mom, Elizabeth Moore, died of a heart attack a few weeks ago. It happened right after Kevin returned from New Orleans. She’d suffered a heart attack a few years ago, but she’d been doing better.” Mitch blew out a breath. “So, her death was sudden and unexpected.”
“That’s tough. Thanks for telling me,” Eliot said. “I only met her once. Kind of ironic since it was at the funeral for Josh and Rebekah Grant’s dad. She seemed like a nice woman and I know Kevin’s tight with his family.” Even though he didn’t see them often, at least Eliot still had both his parents. Landon’s father had also passed away in the past year. A sharp twinge reminded him that he hadn’t been a good son lately, especially being an only child. While he was at the camp, he should call them. At least they understood his career didn’t allow frequent communication and that he needed to be the one to make the contact.
Mitch nodded. “I just thought you should know. When Marc and Landon get here in a few minutes, Sam’s going to take a group over to the worksite. Are you game?”
“Always. Let me make a pit stop first and then I’m ready. Please tell me there’s running water and a toilet nearby.”
“The good news is that we have running water,” Mitch told him with a grin. “The not so good news is that we’re sharing bathroom facilities with the women. There’s a building in the middle of the camp.”
Eliot groaned, part in jest, part in truth. “Sounds like I’ll be taking advantage of the outdoor facilities when I can.” Not that he wasn’t used to it on occasion. He just didn’t want to make a regular habit of roughing it that much. Hopefully he’d get a shower every day or else he’d be bathing in the closest stream, pond, lake or whatever body of water New Mexico had to offer.
“I think it’s illegal to use the outdoor facilities.”
Eliot cocked a brow. “You don’t say.”
“In all fifty states, from what I know. Welcome back to America, my friend. Assuming you’ve been—”
“I’ll try to refrain from my uncivilized ways.” Eliot found it endearing how the TeamWork crew tiptoed around the subject of his travels. He knew they were curious, but they respected his privacy by not asking questions he couldn’t answer.
Mitch grinned. “Lexa promised to keep the women on a schedule, and there’s some kind of system in plac
e.”
“Good to hear.” Eliot eyed his new friend. “Must be tough for you and Cassie since you’re the newlyweds in this group. That is, unless someone’s gotten hitched in the last month that I haven’t heard about yet. That’s always a possibility with this group.”
As long as Marta hadn’t gotten hitched or found herself a boyfriend. Her presence at the makeshift parking lot indicated otherwise. She didn’t sport a diamond on her ring finger. Marta had a lot to offer the right man. Right being the key word. It’d been all he could do not to crush her against him and give her a great to see you again kiss. He hadn’t kissed a woman for the right reasons in way too long, and he’d definitely wanted to kiss Marta. After telling himself the whole trip to Albuquerque that he couldn’t get involved, the mere sight of the woman had turned his thinking upside down. Maybe the warm temperatures were getting to him and messing with his mind. Maybe not. Yeah, he was messed up. And desperately needed sleep.
“Cassie and I will steal time together when we can,” Mitch said. “In a way, it’ll be fun, like when we were dating. We’ll see how creative we can be. I’m sure you’re looking forward to spending quality time with Marta.”
“Word sure travels fast in this group. Bunch of matchmakers.” With a smirk, Eliot tore the wrapper off the chocolate candy. Belgian chocolate, no less. Tossing it in his mouth, he savored the rich, creamy taste. Leave it to Lexa and Winnie not to skimp on cheap chocolate. Balling the wrapper in his hand, he aimed and pitched it into a corner trash can.
Mitch tugged his T-shirt over his head and tossed it on the bed before pulling another shirt from a bag on his bed. “Look out, buddy. You don’t stand much of a chance. I’ve heard about the slow dance between you and Marta. She’s a great girl and I wish you two the best if that’s what you both want.” He shoved his arms through the sleeves of the T-shirt and smoothed down his dark hair. “I’ve been doing some light repairs around the camp today. It got pretty chilly last night but the afternoon sun can get pretty warm. Best to wear layers.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Eliot pulled a few things out of his duffel bag, including his tattered brown leather Bible, and laid them on his bed. He’d carried that Bible everywhere he’d traveled in the world. An old man named Juan had given him the Bible at a church in Santiago during one of his earliest assignments. Broken and lost after losing a comrade, he’d fallen on his knees on the cold stone floor and cried like a baby. Juan held him, rocked with him, prayed for him in faltering English mixed with Chilean Spanish, and then introduced him to a man named Jesus. Most pivotal moment in his life. Every time Eliot held his Bible, he felt the power, the strength, of the Lord. Sure, it was only an object, a book, but that Bible represented God’s promises. Represented healing, redemption, and hope for his hurting soul.
Eliot’s throat clogged with sentimentality, a rare occurrence, and he grunted. “When did you and Cassie arrive?”
“Last night. We rented a car and drove from Manhattan to Houston and then stayed a few days with Kevin and Rebekah before heading to New Mexico. Spent one night on the road.”
“Ah, that explains it. You stored up on the way here. Smart thinking.”
Mitch laughed. “I highly recommend married life. Sounds like maybe you should consider it sometime.”
“I will one of these days. Need to retire first.” Oh, he’d considered it plenty, especially in recent months. After a stressful, grueling day, someone to curl up with during the lonely, long nights was the best thing he could imagine. Someone to share meals with, go to a movie, take the dog for a walk, be silly together—all the normal things of life he hadn’t been able to enjoy. He’d dated a lot, but except for one relationship back in his university days, he’d never had a long-term girlfriend for longer than a few months. Since then, he’d never stayed in one place long enough. In many ways, his lifestyle suited him. After the last few assignments, he’d awakened to the realization that his wants, as well as his needs, were slowly evolving. Maturing perhaps.
You want a woman, Marchand. You want Marta.
His life had never been normal and there was no end in sight. Why get close to Marta when he had nothing to offer her other than danger and possible heartache? He couldn’t do that to someone he cared about, couldn’t do that to someone he loved. Not that he loved Marta, but if were honest, he wouldn’t need a whole lot of convincing. He was on the verge of falling off that cliff. A ludicrous notion considering he’d never even kissed the woman. Then again, his depth of feelings for Marta without any actual physical contact spoke volumes.
Flirting with her on the path to the campsite hadn’t been brilliant in terms of keeping her at arm’s length. Part of him wanted to grab Marta and never let her go while another part of him wanted to sprint in the opposite direction as fast as he could run. Where did the happy medium lie? Only the Lord knew, but if he intended to make a move, he needed to do it now before some other guy did. Marta was too great to stay single.
“You know, Eliot, I might not be standing here if it weren’t for you.”
Mitch’s words brought him back to the present. “Just doing my job, man. Following my instincts and where God leads. I’m glad I could be there for you.” Although he’d heard similar words of gratitude more times than he could count, they still made him uncomfortable.
“Me, too.” Mitch angled his head toward the door. “If you’re ready, I’ll show you where the facilities are located before the women take over.”
“Sounds like a plan. Once the ladies get in there, it’ll probably smell all flowery or fruity.”
“Trust me, you get used to it,” Mitch said. “Sam and Lexa have a tub in their quarters for the kids to use. You might be able to sweet talk Lexa into using it while you’re here.”
“Yeah, right. Nothing enforces my masculinity more than grabbing my rubber ducky and taking a good long soak in a bubble bath. Let’s go.”
Mitch grinned as they walked out of the men’s dorm together. “You’re all right, buddy.”
“So are you, Mitch.”
Chapter 5
~~♥~~
“Did Eliot get here okay?” Gayle looked up at Marta as she stepped into the kitchen of the dining hall.
“He sure did.” Marta jumped as the screen door slapped against her heels. She walked to the steel preparation table and failed miserably at assuming an expression of nonchalance.
“And?” Cassie pulled carrots from the massive refrigerator and then moved over to the double sink. “Is he still as handsome and heroic as ever?”
“Not to mention ever so dreamy and mysterious?” Gayle teased.
“If you mean strong as an ox and as stubborn as a mule, you would be right. And yes, those other descriptions also apply.” Now more than ever. “Put me to work, please. I’m currently in need of a distraction.”
“You can help me mix the meatloaf.” Gayle gestured to the card on the stainless steel preparation table. “Lexa’s new recipe. I’m preparing three batches and we need three more to feed this crew.”
“Sounds easy enough. Always glad to be a guinea pig for Lexa’s dishes. Leave it to an experienced caterer to try out a new recipe on a crowd.” Plucking a pair of disposable gloves from the box on the table, Marta pulled them on and flexed her fingers. “Where have Lexa and Winnie gone?”
“They’re over in the office finishing the grocery list and going over the menus.” Cassie lined up three bowls in front of her.
Marta nodded. “Speaking of which, is there a schedule posted somewhere to tell me what I should be doing in the next two weeks?”
“Lexa’s going to give us a schedule after dinner tonight, between the kitchen clean-up and devotional time,” Cassie told them.
Gayle smiled. “I’m painting a Noah’s Ark mural in the church nursery. The kids are going to help me. Make it a group project.”
“That’s awesome!” Cassie said. “Winnie told me you’re in demand as a portrait painter these days.”
“I’ll brag on Gayle
since she’ll never do it.” Marta winked at her friend. “She has some high-profile celebrity clients now. You know how it goes with those well-connected, famous types. Once someone with influence starts telling their inner circle, that’s all it takes. Doyle-Clarke Catering will be blessed to hold onto Gayle much longer before she’s being flown all over the world as a private portrait artist.”
“Yeah, right.” Gayle waved her hand as if dismissing her comment, but her smile indicated she was pleased.
“Hey, you never know. It could happen.” Marta turned her attention to Cassie. With her flushed cheeks, sparkling blue eyes, and lush auburn hair, Cassie was radiant. “And you! You’ve never looked prettier, my friend. I miss you like crazy now that you’re living in New York, but I can see how happy you are. That takes some of the sting out of it and makes me love that husband of yours all the more. Even though he stole you away from us.”
“Thanks. I miss you all, too, but married life is great.” If possible, the color in Cassie’s cheeks bloomed.
“I guess so.” Marta measured seasoning into the meatloaf. “If I didn’t know all of you personally, I’d think some of our stories are fabricated fairy tales. And don’t either one of you well-meaning but misguided souls dare tell me that someday my prince will come”—she raised a spatula—“or else!”
“Oh, I think your prince has already arrived, but he needs to kiss the beautiful princess and wake her up.” Cassie backed away when Marta flicked a dishtowel on her arm.
Gayle laughed. “Or maybe it’s the handsome prince who needs to wake up.”
“Not to change the subject, but I have some exciting news I’m dying to share, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy for now,” Cassie said. “I’m hoping I can share it with everyone while we’re here.”
