by JoAnn Durgin
“It’s the same fabric they used for the nursery curtains. I wouldn’t be surprised if the ladies made play clothes for the kids out of the leftover fabric,” he said, pleased when she laughed. “They’re very creative.”
“A-and h-h-helpful,” Sheila said. “I-it a-all l-l-looks s-s-so l-l-lovely.”
Dean lit a scented candle inside a glass jar and then extinguished the overhead fluorescent lights. Without their harsh, artificial glare, the dining hall was bathed in a soft glow. He had to admit, it was about as romantic as he could make the plain room.
Sheila seemed impressed when he brought his special chicken enchilada casserole to the table. “It’s one of the few things I can make without a microwave,” he said. “I’m not sure what it says about me that Felipe is a better cook.” What a brilliant move to mention that someone else’s cooking—much less a 15-year-old’s—was better than his.
“R-r-really? Th-that’s s-s-surp-p-r-ris-sing.”
After Dean asked grace, he watched as Sheila took her first bite of the simple garden salad. “I hope ranch dressing is okay. It’s what we had on hand here in the refrigerator.”
“Dean, r-rel-lax. I-It’s a-all g-g-g-ood.” Taking a bite of the casserole, she gave him a thumbs-up.
“Felipe complained the food I made was lame and not very nutritious. He said I was either overcooking or undercooking everything and it offered no recognizable nutrients. My pride was offended, so I countered by bringing home take-out. After a while, Felipe rebelled against that. I challenged him to come up with a solution we could both stomach, and he did. And then some.”
She smiled. “Wh-what d-d-does h-he m-m-make?”
“Some mighty tasty dishes. He went to the library and checked out some cookbooks. He said he was only following the directions, but there’s more to it than that. Felipe’s specialties are chicken and fish, and he’s quite talented with spices and marinades.”
As they ate, Dean asked more questions about her work since that seemed to be a safe topic. When he asked what she did during her free time, Dean learned Sheila taught a sign language class at a local community college. She liked to cook and Mexican dishes were her specialty. To relax, she worked on needlepoint and loved to rollerblade, of all things. When she asked if he’d like to go sometime, he grinned and agreed while his mind screamed No! He’d be flat on his backside in no time by participating in an activity that would do nothing for his masculinity or self-esteem. Not to mention his lower back. But, hey, if it meant he could spend time with Sheila back in San Antonio? Sure, he was game.
“Sheila, before we have dessert, would you like to dance?” All through their meal, he’d been working up the nerve to ask her. He was going crazy watching her every day, often working beside her. Dancing would give him a legitimate reason to put his arms around her. Hold her. Show Sheila he was serious about wanting to get to know her better. That he considered this a real date tonight, and not just a way to pass the time while on the mission.
“I ha-ha-ven’t d-done th-that, b-b-but I-I’m w-w-willing t-to t-t-try.”
“It’s easy, and I’ll show you. Something tells me you’re a fast learner. We have a CD player here in the dining hall and”—he waved his hand toward the open area clear of tables—“a dance floor.”
“Y-y-you’ve pl-plan-ned th-this v-v-very w-w-well.”
“It’s all for you, Sheila.” When she glanced up at him, her eyes were bright. How was it possible another man hadn’t stolen this woman’s heart before now?
“We all went out dancing together in Montana, but I’m not sure the opportunity will present itself here,” he told her. “This is what’s called seizing the moment.” He hoped everyone else would stay away for a little while longer. The sun was lowering on the horizon.
Sheila’s laughter was feminine and throaty. “S-s-seize a-w-way.”
“I have an idea. Do you want to go watch the sunset together? I know just the place where we can get a spectacular view.”
“S-s-sounds l-l-like f-f-fun.”
“It’s on the edge of the camp, away from the line of trees, but we can still keep an eye on things here.” He chuckled. “I doubt those guys will be returning to the camp after they saw how accurate your aim can be.”
After running to his dorm and tugging his blanket off the bunk, he carried it under one arm and met Sheila outside the dining hall. “Shall we?”
With a shy smile, she nodded and curled her hand around his arm. “This is the spot,” Dean said a couple of minutes later. Together they spread out the blanket and she asked him to tell her about his parents.
“Dad left us when I was nine. Mama Rose said he left her, not me, but she was trying to soften the blow and protect me, as always. He’d found another woman who apparently gave him something we couldn’t. I never could understand what that something was, and he’s gone now. He died five years ago.”
“I-I’m s-s-sorry. D-d-did y-you r-r-rec-c-onc-c-ile b-bef-f-ore h-he d-died?”
“No, and it’s one of the biggest regrets of my life. Our relationship had always been rocky. He wasn’t a Christian, but my mother was born a Christian, or so she says. I still think that, even to this day, Mama Rose believes that my dad’s abandonment was somehow God’s curse on her for marrying a man who wasn’t a Christian.”
When Sheila lowered her gaze, Dean grasped her hand. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
“N-no, b-b-but I-I c-c-can und-derst-st-stand wh-why sh-she m-m-might th-think that w-w-way.”
“Sheila, surely you don’t believe anything you’ve done brought God’s curse on you. Please don’t tell me you believe that.”
“N-n-o, b-b-but m-my gr-grandm-moth-ther st-st-stuttered and m-m-my f-f-fath-ther t-t-told m-m-e sh-she br-brought sh-shame t-t-to th-the f-f-family. A-and s-s-so d-d-did I.”
Curling one arm around Sheila’s slender shoulders, Dean drew her close. “That’s a lie, Sheila. You are wonderfully and fearfully made. You are perfect just as you are.” His heart pumped harder when she kissed his cheek and then rested her head on his shoulder. Without speaking, they watched as the sun lowered on the horizon.
Standing, he gathered the blanket and then helped Sheila to her feet. “We still haven’t had dessert. How about we have that and some coffee, if you’re not too tired.”
Giving him a small smile, she nodded but remained silent.
“Sorry I didn’t make this,” he told her, sectioning a piece of peach pie. “Sam’s mom made it. Do you want me to zap it in the microwave to warm it up? I have vanilla ice cream, too.”
“N-n-no i-ice cr-cream,” she told him. “T-t-too m-m-many c-c-calories.”
“You’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t have the ice cream either. I’ve got to start cutting back.”
He told her more about growing up in San Antonio as they enjoyed their dessert. She laughed at some of his stories. Admittedly, he punched them up a bit to make them more lively and interesting. Not with untrue exaggeration, but by inflections and his delivery. If nothing else, he could tell a decent story.
After they finished their dessert, Dean switched on the CD player. Maybe he should have thought to play it quietly during their dinner. He smiled when Old Blue Eyes began to croon.
“Sheila, may I have the honor of this dance?”
“I-I’d l-l-love to.” With her trusting gaze never leaving his face, Sheila placed her hand in Dean’s and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. Her hand trembled a bit, cluing him in that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. Dean’s heart was beating so hard he figured Sheila would be able to feel it pumping through the cotton of his shirt if he held her close enough. Would that be too close for her? Too much?
Felipe probably has more finesse with a female than I do.
“Hold that thought. I forgot one very important thing.” Releasing her hand, Dean quickly walked across the room and flipped a switch. A disco ball in the center of the room began to rotate in all its sparkling, glittery tackiness. “Is
n’t it great?”
“I-I l-l-love it! Wh-where d-d-did y-y-you f-find it?”
“Eliot and I bought it when we went into town the other day. It’s for the talent show. That’s also when we went to the Christian bookstore.”
Sheila looked surprised by that news.
“He bought the book for Angelina, the one she showed you. Then I bought a Bible and a cover for Felipe. The cover was made by Leather, and he seemed to get a kick out of that.”
“Th-that’s w-w-won-n-d-derf-f-ul, Dean. Y-y-you’re d-d-doing a g-g-great j-j-job with-th h-h-him.”
“I appreciate your saying that. I wasn’t sure whether you felt that way,” he said, easing her back in his arms. “I plan to do a better job once we go home.” He began to sway gently with her. At least dancing was one skill he’d picked up easily, although he hadn’t done much of it in recent years. Resting one hand around her waist, Dean drew Sheila closer, leaving what he considered an appropriate distance between them. He was determined not to do anything wrong tonight because under no circumstances did he want her running away from him.
“A-A-Ang-g-gel-lina and I-I t-t-talked l-last n-n-night. I th-th-ink F-F-F-el-l-lipe’s g-good f-f-for h-h-her.”
“Thank you,” he said, touched by her words. “I know she’s definitely been a good influence on him.”
“H-h-how ex-act-tly is F-F-F-el-lipe re-re-rel-lated t-t-to y-you?”
“A few cousins removed on my mother’s side. I’ve never even figured how far removed.”
“I-I ad-adm-mire y-y-you f-for t-t-taking F-F-F-el-lipe int-to y-y-your h-home. I-I kn-know it c-c-can’t b-b-be eas-sy.”
The affection in Sheila’s voice, mirrored in her eyes, touched him deeply. Lightly resting his jaw against her temple, he began to hum along to the tune of “The Way You Look Tonight.” The song had long been one of his all-time favorite classics. “Sheila, I love the way you look tonight.” Pretty corny line, but she seemed to like it. Shifting in his arms, she made a sweet murmur of contentment. The scent of her hair teased his senses. Slowly, he laced his fingers with hers, taking pleasure in the fact that she didn’t resist him or pull away. This evening was going even better than he could have anticipated.
“You’re very good at this.”
“I-I h-h-have a v-v-very g-good inst-st-r-r-ruct-tor.” Sheila leaned her head on his chest and he tightened his hold on her.
Nuzzling her hair, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling back. “I don’t mean to take advantage.”
“Y-y-you’re n-not.” She gently tugged him closer again and he wrapped both arms around her, slow dancing like he hadn’t done in years. He gloried in the closeness, the feel of her, the warmth of having her next to him. Dancing with other women had been nothing compared to how he felt dancing with Sheila now. The beginnings of desire stirred within him, and he moved his gaze from her eyes down to her nose, then to her lovely cheekbones, and finally to her lips.
“Kiss me, Dean,” she whispered, as though reading his mind.
“You don’t mind?” Why did it matter? Kiss the woman, you fool.
He leaned in close, but hesitated. Wait a minute. “The timing might be awkward to mention this, but you hardly stuttered just now. The same as when you were angry with Felipe and then again with those guys in the camp tonight.”
She smiled. “I-I d-don’t st-stut-t-er as much when I’m…” With a sweet blush, she leaned her forehead against his chest.
He skimmed his thumbs over her cheeks. “I don’t want to make you mad, but I hope to make you feel…”—he brought his mouth close to hers—“romantic.”
Still dancing, Dean moved them slowly together as he lowered his lips to hers. In that moment, he knew he was a goner. He was going to marry this woman, if she’d have him. He didn’t know when, but he would. But, considering it was only their first kiss, he definitely shouldn’t be making any proclamations of undying love and affection for a while yet. For now, he’d enjoy the moment, and it was a glorious one.
“D-d-d y-y-you s-s-see th-them, t-t-oo?” Her eyes skimmed over his face.
Dean chuckled. “If you mean the fireworks, yeah, I did.” Sappy yes, but he’d take it.
Covering her hand with his, on top of his chest, he continued dancing with her for a very long time. “Sheila, I—”
“Shh,” she said, stilling his words with one finger over his lips. “N-not n-now.”
For now, he’d be content with whatever Sheila was willing to give, giving thanks all the while.
Chapter 37
~~♥~~
“Get enough to eat? Want some more dessert?” Eliot walked beside Marta on Vendor Row. This had to be one of the best days of his life.
She laughed. “I’m stuffed with Mexican sopapillas. I couldn’t eat another thing.”
“That’s too bad because I have one more thing you must try. Did you know New Mexico is the first state to have its own official state cookie?” When she lifted a brow, Eliot took her by the hand to a nearby booth. “Two Bizcochitos, please.” A second later he handed one to her.
Marta held up the fleur-de-lis shaped cookie, admiring it. “Here’s to you,” she said, toasting him and then sampling it. “It’s really good.” She chewed it and then bit off a bit more. “It’s like a really thick sugar cookie flavored with anise, I think, and dusted with cinnamon sugar. I must warn you,” she said, taking another bite, “if I spontaneously combust, it’s all your fault. I’m glad you only got one for me because I. Can’t. Stop. Eating. It.”
Eliot laughed and they finished their cookies at the same time. “I promise I won’t stuff more food in you unless you beg me.”
Taking him by the hand, she pulled him behind a nearby tent, out of the way of most spectators. “I’m begging for a kiss. How’s that? I’m storing up for the future.” Locking her hands behind his head, she pulled his head down and their lips met for a sweet kiss. Very sweet. Perfection.
“Hmm,” he said, licking his lips. “Cinnamon sugar.” He dipped his head for one more round.
They walked around more booths and talked with some people, snapped photos of more balloons, and danced to lively jazz music on a small makeshift dance floor. Twirling her under his arm and then pulling Marta to him, Eliot wrapped her in his embrace. The sun was beginning its descent on the horizon. He never wanted this day, this moment, this time with Marta, to end.
“I’m never going to let you go,” he whispered.
With her palms flat on his chest, she pushed back a little and looked up at him with big eyes. “What did you say?”
“Come with me.” With his arm around her small waist, he led her over to a grouping of tables in a quiet area. “Let’s talk.” He waited while she sat on a bench and then sat beside her, close enough so that others wouldn’t hear their words. “Marta, I can’t go into this relationship without laying it all on the line, faults and all.”
“Eliot, you’re scaring me a little bit.” She put her hand on the side of his face, and he leaned into it. “You’re not an escaped convict are you? A runaway circus performer?”
“No, nothing like that,” he said, shaking his head. “But I need to be serious. I need to say this.”
“My flippancy is the way I react sometimes when I’m nervous. Forgive me.”
“I’m the one who needs to ask forgiveness, Marta.”
Something in her eyes dimmed when she met his gaze. “Tell me.”
“Before I became a Christian, I did what I wanted. When I was growing up, the lifestyle was free, different. Sexual freedom was encouraged and almost expected. Not that it excuses anything. I’m not a perfect man in any sense of the word, and I have to constantly be on my guard. I wish I could change my past, but every experience has made me the man I am today.”
He rested his hand on her cheek. “When I came to Jesus, my eyes were opened in so many ways. I stopped indulging in my own selfish pleasures. I realized how wrong it is and how it dishonors a woman. Not only that,
but that kind of behavior grieves the Lord.”
Marta had told him she’d been a Christian since her father led her to the Lord when she was seven years old, the year before he’d disappeared. Now it was his turn to tell her his story. “Let me tell you about a man named Juan.” He told her about being in that Santiago church and how he’d never known Jesus as anything more than a name. “I’d heard of God, but not Jesus Christ. I’d never heard of the sacrifice, the blood, the redemption, and the grace,” he told her. “The Bible I have here at the camp”—Eliot knew Marta had seen it since she’d found him studying it a few mornings in the dining hall—“is one that Juan gave me. That’s why it’s so old and falling apart.”
He shifted on the bench. “Marta, we keep the things in our lives that are important, the people who are most precious. Juan’s gone on to glory, but I carry him inside me. I never know where, when, or how people will impact my life, for good or bad. But, like I mentioned before, the Lord walks beside me. I couldn’t do what I do without Him.”
Marta swallowed hard but didn’t look him in the eye.
He lowered his head in shame. “I’ve disappointed you.” Like Liam. Like her father. “I’m sorry, Marta.”
She grabbed hold of his hand. “No, Eliot. You haven’t disappointed me at all. Everything you’ve told me only reinforces my feelings for you. But…” Her eyes filled and she lowered her gaze. “You’re not the only one who sinned in the flesh, Eliot.”
“You owe me no explanations, Marta. That’s between you and the Lord.”
“I want you to know. You weren’t a Christian when you did those things, but I was. In my opinion, that makes it so much worse. I knew better. It was a classic case where I felt Liam was slipping away from me and thought I could keep him by giving into his constant pressure. Turns out, he took what he wanted, played me for a fool, and then ran into someone else’s wide open arms.”
“I’m sorry, Marta. Like I said, Liam was a colossal fool. Your past is just that—the past. You’re precious to God, and you are precious to me. You are a woman to be cherished and you can trust me with your heart.” He hated that she’d been with a man who’d taken her purity and then mistreated her by sinning with another woman. He hated that he couldn’t come to her as a pure man, but life—and Jesus—would give them both a blank slate. Oh, that old blank slate.
