by JoAnn Durgin
“That’s not a valid question, Lexa. I always want to kiss you.”
“Good answer, but how about an experiment?”
“Nothing doing.”
“You didn’t even listen to my idea.”
“I can just imagine, and it’s the most harebrained idea you’ve ever entertained. I think you’ve been bit by the Crazy Spider.”
“Forget I’m even there tonight.” Seemed his wife was determined to have her say.
Stubborn is as stubborn does. “Impossible,” he growled. “In that case, why don’t we switch places with one of our couples and offer them our bed for the night, and then we can go sleep in the dorms?” That last part came out more sarcastic than he intended, but Lexa appeared rather amused.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said, laughing.
“This isn’t funny. I’m already disgruntled enough. I want you there with me. You know that.” He blew out a sigh of frustration. If she persisted, he’d negotiate with her once they were inside and see if he could wear down her resistance.
Lexa began walking. “I didn’t get a chance to ask how your talk went with Angelina and Felipe.”
“As well as could be expected. I asked Felipe to work with me one-on-one at the church in the morning. Dean tells me he’s good at doing touch-up painting, and we still need it in a few places. I’m going to see if he has any questions, ask him how things are going with Dean, and generally spend some quality time with him.”
She nodded. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“Me too, baby.” Lexa liked it when he called her baby, so hopefully that would give him some leverage.
~~♥~~
Sam stood on the porch of his quarters, arms crossed on the railing, as Dean rounded the corner on his way back to the men’s dorm.
“Evening, Sam.”
“How are you, Dean?”
“Very well, thanks. I just said good night to Sheila.” Dean joined him at the railing. “She’s a wonderful woman.”
“Without a doubt.”
Like Sam, Dean crossed his arms on the railing and stared out over the expanse of the camp. All was quiet except for an occasional rustling from a small animal or the wind in the trees. “Overall, I’d say the mission has gone well in terms of building the church and developing good relations between One Nation and TeamWork, wouldn’t you?”
“It has,” Sam said.
Dean glanced over at the other man. “Everything okay, Sam?” The TeamWork director was usually more jovial, but tonight he seemed unusually quiet.
“Nothing that tomorrow won’t make better. Any update on the situation we talked about before the trip?”
“The case of the embezzling manager? Nope. Nothing since our last discussion. According to my high-priced lawyer, I’ve got to get some kind of evidence on the guy. Innocent until proven guilty or until he steals me blind, I guess.” He frowned and ran a hand over his brow. “The guy’s definitely moving money out of the company accounts into his own, but I need to find a way to prove it.”
“Have you talked to a fraud or security expert?”
“That’s next on my list once I get back home. Marc gave me a name of one of the best forensic accountants in the country.”
Sam quirked a brow. “Marc hasn’t had any similar problems in his agency, has he? He hasn’t mentioned anything.”
“No. Marc just knows a lot of people and has far-reaching contacts.”
“True enough.” Sam regarded him for a long moment. “Considering the circumstances, thanks for your commitment to TeamWork and coming here, Dean. I know your stores are your top priority, and we have to believe this situation will work out for the Lord’s glory. Keep me posted on what’s happening once you get back to San Antonio.” Sam cracked a grin. “Pretty amazing about Sheila’s skill with a bow and arrow. You can’t make up a story like that.”
“It was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. Another interesting thing is that she didn’t stutter much at all when she was confronting those guys. I thought the cause of stuttering was fear, but in Sheila’s case, it seems to be the opposite. She became emboldened and fearless. I guess we never know how we’ll react until faced with certain situations,” Dean said.
“I take it the dinner went well?”
“I consider it a personal victory that Sheila took seconds. As far as the stuttering, you’re right in that it runs in her family Sheila’s been deeply wounded, but she’s strong. In spite of the circumstances, she’s risen above the obstacles and made a good life for her and Angelina. I admire her strength and resilience.”
“Agreed. You’re a good man, Dean.”
“Coming from you, that’s high praise.”
“Coming from me?” Sam lowered his head, but Dean heard his quiet chuckle.
“Our leader, the head honcho, the big cheese.”
“My kids would say I’m the big stinky cheese.” They shared a grin. “There’s an awful lot of people on the Leather payroll who would say the same about you, my friend,” Sam said. “I’ll be praying that you’ll find a quick resolution for the embezzlement issue, and for your growing friendship with Sheila.”
“I’m going to marry that woman, Sam.”
Sam held his gaze and then slowly nodded. Somehow, he didn’t seem surprised. “Feel like praying about it?”
“Sure. Sounds like the right thing to do.” And so, with Sam beside him, Dean prayed.
~~♥~~
Lexa yawned as she climbed into bed. Sam sat in a chair with a book opened on his lap. She could tell he was disgruntled by that ridiculous conversation they’d shared. So was she. “Tell me a bedtime story, Sam. Just don’t be offended if I doze off somewhere in the middle.”
He closed the book he was pretending to read. “Okay, since you asked. I did a little research the other day on the history of my favorite fruit.”
For a moment, she stared at him. “All right.”
“Daddy?” Leah and Hannah both stood in the doorway separating the two bedrooms.
Sam put aside his book. “What’s wrong, girls? Can’t sleep?” Leah scampered across the floor and Sam pulled her onto his lap while Hannah scooted over to the bed with her. “I was just about to tell your mother a bedtime story about peaches.”
“I think the condensed version is best,” Lexa suggested.
“The peach came to America by Spanish explorers in the 16th century,” he said, tapping Leah on the nose. “And to England and France in the 17th century where it was a prized, but rare, treat.”
“Treat!” Leah said, clapping her hands together.
“Daddy wants peaches?” Hannah asked, sliding down from the bed. That had to be a record for a bedtime story. If he’d continued much longer, she would have been asleep within the minute.
“Now?” Lexa frowned at Sam. “Didn’t you have one after dinner?”
He shrugged. “Sounds like a great bedtime snack. A man can never have enough peaches.”
She shook her head. “Only you.” Climbing out of the bed, Lexa shrugged into her robe. “Okay, girls. Put on your house slippers and let’s go over to the kitchen.”
Five minutes later, she gave them cups of water and then the girls each selected a peach for their father. As they prepared to leave, Lexa felt a tug on her robe and leaned over so she was eye-level with her daughter. “Yes, Hannah Banana?”
Reaching for her, Hannah took hold of her face between her two little hands. “You’re pretty, Mommy.”
“Thank you, sweetie.” She needed that compliment considering she wasn’t feeling like the best wife at the moment.
Hannah giggled. “Daddy says you’re the prettiest lady in the whole world. He loves you verrrry berrry much!” Lexa smiled, loving how her daughter liked to use that expression.
“Yep.” Leah stretched her arms wide. “This big!”
“He does, huh?”
Both girls’ heads bobbed up and down in tandem as quick tears filled Lexa’s eyes. These were t
he moments of life.
“Well, I happen to think your daddy’s the most handsome man in the whole world.”
Giggling, the twins skipped out of the kitchen into the quiet of the night. “Come on!” Leah called to her. “Daddy needs his peaches.”
“Coming.” Turning off the lights, Lexa followed behind them.
“So, finish telling me the rest of your story,” she said to Sam once the girls were settled in their beds again. He’d changed into his shorts and T-shirt, legs propped on the edge of the bed. He was eating a peach with an amused expression. He was waiting her out, waiting to see which one of them could outlast the other.
“Maybe I’ll save it for another night.” He took another bite of his peach. “Hmm. This one sure is succulent.”
She smiled. “No, no. I’m waiting with bated breath to hear it tonight.”
“Very well then. To recap, the peach was cultivated in China where it was the favorite fruit of the emperors. It was passed from the Persians to the Romans, brought to America by Spanish explorers in the 16th century, and then to England and France in the 17th century where it was a prized, but rare, treat.” Sam laughed as he caught her expression.
“Not to mention it was reportedly brought to the United States from England by a horticulturist named George Minifie in the early 17th century who planted them on his Virginia estate. And finally,” he said, “it was the American Indian tribes, don’t you know, who are credited with spreading the peach tree across the country, spreading seeds as they traveled.”
“Sam, I wasn’t trying to tease or punish you.”
“I know that. You were trying to make a point.” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he aimed and tossed the peach pit in the trash can. As usual, the man had precise aim. “You made it.”
Giving him a smile, Lexa plucked a tissue from the box on the table and waved it.
Turning off the light, Sam grinned and slid in beside her, bringing the sheet up over both of them. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter 40
Day 9, Tuesday
~~♥~~
Sitting in the kitchen, sipping coffee, Lexa yawned. She needed to get moving but felt sluggish this morning. She glanced at the ancient wall clock. Five o’clock.
“Hey, partner.” Winnie stepped inside the back door, closing it carefully so it didn’t slam behind her.
“Morning. Let me get you some coffee.” Lexa started to slide down from the stool.
“Stay put. I’ll get it. How’s Sam feeling this morning?”
“Much better, thanks. What a crazy few days, huh?”
“I’ll say.”
A minute later, Winnie settled on a stool across from her. She curled her hands around the coffee cup. “Based on our behavior last night, I’m sure it’s obvious that Josh and I are fine. I asked him about the business card. As I suspected, he said Victoria was one of the women from his past. I can’t explain it, Lexa, but I knew. I think the Lord gives wives intuition about things like that, don’t you?”
“Perhaps.” Lexa sipped more coffee.
“He said Sam saw her drop a business card into Josh’s bag. I don’t even want to think about how that card got into Josh’s pocket without him knowing.”
“I agree. Let’s not speculate on that one.”
Winnie took a tentative sip of her coffee and then blew on it a little. “I don’t believe there are any chance meetings. There’s a reason why Josh ran into Victoria in that mall. In the back of my mind, I always knew the day would come when he’d run smack into his past. I guess I just didn’t expect it to be here.”
As close as she was with Winnie, Lexa wasn’t sure what to say.
“God doesn’t discriminate, and I think He uses situations like this to teach us a lesson.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Lexa said.
Winnie eyed her curiously as she took a drink of her coffee. “You’re being awfully cryptic this morning.”
“Sorry. I’m just tired.”
“You’re not—?”
Lexa’s eyes widened and she sputtered. “Of course not! Don’t even go there. Your first clue should be the fact that I’m drinking coffee. Have you ever known me to drink caffeine when I’m expecting? Or even suspect I’m pregnant?”
“Good point.” Taking another drink, Winnie shifted. “As far as Josh, he said that he witnessed to Victoria in the middle of the mall. You don’t know how I would have loved to hear that conversation.”
Lexa smiled. “Oh, I can imagine.”
“We talked about it a little, and Josh said something that I found really interesting.”
“Tell me, and then we’d better get started on the breakfast.”
“He believes God uses something like this not so much to remind him of his past sins, but to remind him of his blessings now.”
“I like that reasoning. Like Eliot’s catchphrase of ‘Everything according to His purpose.’ I’m happy to know that everything’s fine between you two.” Reaching across the table, Lexa squeezed Winnie’s hand.
“Couldn’t be better. How about you and Sam?”
Lexa smiled as she finished her coffee and hopped down from the kitchen stool. “Let’s just say he should be a lot less grumpy this morning.”
~~♥~~
“Angel told me you write books about family and stuff.”
Felipe’s comment made Sam smile. “You could say that.”
“That’s awesome, man. I didn’t know that.”
“You interested in writing?”
“Yeah.” Felipe concentrated on painting the trim around the door frame of the church office.
That surprised him in a good way. “Does ‘kinda’ mean you’ve tried to write or you want to try it sometime?”
Felipe laughed. “Both. I’ve tried, but I stunk up the joint with it.”
“I doubt that,” Sam said. “You couldn’t stink any more than I did when I first tried to write. It’s like learning to walk or ride a bike or anything else. One foot in front of the other and you keep going until you can keep your balance, or—in the case of writing a book—until your words make sense. What kind of books are you interested in writing?”
“Something to give kids in bad situations hope that there’s something out there that’s better.”
“If you’ve lived through some bad things, then you’d be well-qualified to write about them. Taking what we’ve learned from the not-so-good things in our lives to help others is an admirable thing. If it’s a diatribe about everything that’s gone wrong in your life and focuses on the blame game, then it’s only self-serving.”
Felipe stopped painting. “Sorry, Mr. Lewis, but you lost me. First off, what does diatribe mean?”
“Sorry.” He hadn’t worked with a lot of teenagers lately. “A diatribe is like a rant. It’s something someone either says or writes that’s angry and full of bitterness. If the purpose is to blame someone else for their problems, then it comes across as selfish.”
“Why is it selfish?”
Felipe asked good questions. “Because it’s not trying to help someone else. The way I see it, one of the best ways to help people is by uplifting them.”
“You’re talking about making them feel good about themselves, right?”
Sam nodded and dipped his paintbrush in the small can of white paint. “Right. In my case, I share insights about how God is working in my life, and the ways in which He accomplishes His purpose through different situations.”
“Okay, then. I’ve got a big question for you.”
“Sure. Lay it on me.”
Felipe grinned but kept painting. “How come God gives some people good families and others…well, not so good?”
“It’s not God’s punishment if you don’t have the best home situation, Felipe. Strong people don’t allow the bad things in their lives to stifle them, and I can tell you’re strong. I’m sorry life’s handed you some curveballs, but you’re better than those situations. Grow from them and
rise above your circumstances. In other words, don’t let them drag you down to their level. Take what you can learn from them, do the best you can, and then move forward.”
The boy’s shoulders slumped. “Kind of hard to do sometimes.”
Sam put down his paintbrush and Felipe did the same. “I’m sure you have some feelings of resentment.” When Felipe looked up at him in surprise, Sam put one hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s not wrong to feel that way, but in order to overcome them, you need to accept and forgive your parents. Do you think you can do that?”
“I don’t know, man.”
“I’m sure you don’t want to end up like either one of them.”
“You know the worst part isn’t that my mom does drugs or that my dad’s in jail.”
“What’s the worst part?” This kid had been through so much.
He could see Felipe swallowed hard. “They, uh, weren’t there for me when I really needed them, even when I was little.” His dark eyes were bright. Blinking hard, he stared at the wall. “You and Mrs. Lewis are always doing stuff with your kids. You play with them, you sit with them at dinner, you talk to them, and you listen when they ask you something. I’m sure you tuck them in bed at night and read them stories. And take care of them if they have a bad dream or need to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.”
Sam’s heart swelled with compassion for this boy. “You never had any of that with your parents?”
“Nope. Maybe a few times.”
“Felipe, who did those things for you?”
“There was an old neighbor lady, Mrs. King. She was pretty nice. But I learned real quick how to do things for myself.” He finally moved his gaze to Sam’s. “When your mother tells you that you were a mistake, you learn how to take care of yourself.”
“I’m very sorry, son. You’re even stronger than I thought.” Sam cleared his throat. “I happen to think that Dean’s a fine man. I’m thankful you’re with him now.”
“Why? Because he took me in when no one else would? I appreciate that, but he makes me feel like I’m always doing something wrong.”
