Bogota Blessings

by E. A. West

  Turning to him, she found him watching her intently, searching her face. She laid her hand on his arm. “I get it now. Catching me probably hurt like crazy, but it didn’t do any damage, did it?”

  “No. My prosthesis is still in one piece, and so is what is left of my leg.” He thumbed a tear from her cheek, his hand lingering. “Why are you crying?”

  “Because that photo makes it clear you’ve been through something horrible, something that changed your life forever. It breaks my heart to know that such a kindhearted man had to endure it.”

  “You don’t know what happened.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You obviously weren’t very far into adulthood when that was taken.” Kayla followed the urging of her heart and reached up to touch the scar on his face. “This is completely healed in the photo, which means you were probably pretty young when it happened. With the little you’ve told me, I’m guessing it’s the result of violence, which affects a child for the rest of his life.”

  Mateo took her hand and led her to one of the sofas. Once they were seated beside each other, he spoke softly. “I was seventeen when I came here, when Carlos took that picture. He and Maria have been like parents to me ever since I arrived, and they are the only family I have. My mother turned me out into the street when I was seven because she could no longer afford to feed me. By some miracle and the kindness of strangers, I was able to survive much longer than many street children. Then when I was thirteen, the FARC kidnapped me and forced me to fight with them.”

  A shudder ran through him, and Kayla put an arm around him, silently praying for his comfort. “What happened?”

  “Too many hellish things that haunt me to this day.” He glanced at her, his eyes filmed with the sheen of tears. “That is why I try so hard to keep the street children away from the rebels. No matter what promises the rebels offer, the reality is much worse than the children can imagine.”

  She wrapped him in a hug, holding him tightly. “But you survived and got out.”

  “I almost didn’t.” He drew in a shaky breath and slid his arms around her. “We were in the jungle, marching as usual, when something exploded. I was the closest to it. My commander and the others, they examined my injuries and decided the wounds were too severe for me to survive. So they left me there, in pain and bleeding to death.”

  “God must have been watching out for you that day, or you wouldn’t be here now.”

  “This is true, but I didn’t know God at the time. It wasn’t until after I met Carlos that I turned to Christ. But that didn’t stop God from saving my life, because there is no other way the missionaries could have found me if He hadn’t led them to me.”

  Kayla straightened and met his gaze. “You were rescued by missionaries?”

  “Yes, they came along and took me to their village. They treated my wounds as best they could and nursed me until I was strong enough for the trip to Bogotá. I was in the hospital for a long time while they amputated my leg and treated the other injuries I had sustained. Once I was released, the missionaries brought me here, to Carlos and Maria. They took me into their home and have treated me as though I am their child ever since.”

  “I can tell they love you as a son.” Kayla sat back and rubbed Mateo’s shoulder.

  He shifted and dug in his jacket pocket, pulling out a couple of pieces of hard candy wrapped in green with yellow lettering. Smiling, he handed her a piece. “The day I came here, Maria gave me a piece of this candy while we waited for Carlos. It was the first piece of candy I had ever been given.”

  “Really? You never had candy until you were seventeen?” She unwrapped the piece of candy, inhaling the scent of sweet coconut.

  “No, I had candy sometimes as a child, but no one ever gave me any until I was seventeen.” Mateo winked and popped a candy in his mouth.

  She wasn’t brave enough to ask how he’d managed to get candy as a street child if no one gave it to him. She put the candy into her mouth. The coconut flavor dancing across her tongue made it easy to shove aside the possibilities floating through her mind. “This is good enough I do believe it could become addicting.”

  “It is addicting,” Mateo said and chuckled. “It has also helped me earn the trust of more than one street child so I could talk to them about the mission.”

  The sound of small feet running down the hall reached their ears, and Kayla turned toward the doorway. Claudia darted into the room and launched herself into Kayla’s lap with a burst of giggles. She’d barely landed when a grubby boy a few years older raced into the room, a grin on his face.

  Claudia buried her face in Kayla’s shoulder with more giggles. Kayla smiled and gave the girl a hug as Mateo retrieved more candy from his pocket and motioned the boy closer. After a brief exchange of Spanish with the boy, Mateo handed each child a piece of candy and turned to Kayla.

  “This young man is Claudia’s older brother, Juan Miguel. Apparently, Carlos sent them to find us.”

  “Is there a problem with the renovation?” Kayla let go of Claudia as the girl slid to the floor and twirled around as she sucked on her piece of candy.

  Mateo translated the question for Juan Miguel. Once the boy had replied, Mateo returned his gaze to Kayla, a twinkle lighting his eyes. “According to Juan Miguel, Carlos thinks we’ve had a long enough break. He wants us to get back to work.”

  “I guess we’d better go, then,” Kayla said. She laughed and stood.

  She watched Mateo rise a little more slowly and briefly shift his weight off his left leg. Concern filled her, but she did her best to hide it so the children wouldn’t worry. “Are you sure you need to be working on the renovation today? You could finish the newsletter instead and work on the house tomorrow.”

  “I am fine, Kayla.” Mateo released a breath and scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “The newsletter doesn’t need to go out until later in the month, so there is plenty of time to finish it later. Working on the house is more important right now.”

  She caught the steely note to his voice and kicked herself for irritating him. Of course he would know what he should and shouldn’t do with a sore leg. It was his life and his body, something he knew much better than she ever would. If he said he was fine and able to help with the renovation, then she would accept it and put him to work.

  She offered a smile in the hope he would forgive her faux pas. “Well, let’s get moving. We have a lot of work to do.”

  Claudia grabbed Kayla’s hand as they left the common room, and Juan Miguel stuck close to Mateo. Once outside, the two children ran ahead. Mateo stepped close to Kayla and took her hand.

  “I appreciate your concern, but you don’t need to worry about me. If I need a break, I will take one, but I refuse to sit back and let life pass me by because I am an amputee.” He stopped and turned toward her, lifting his free hand to stroke her cheek. A little shiver raced along her spine, and he smiled. “It is nice to know you care, though. I care about you, too.”

  He leaned close and kissed her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat at the light brush of his lips, and her heart raced as she absorbed the warmth in his gaze. Regardless of what she had told Paul and Angie, she was quickly losing her heart to this battle-scarred Colombian.

  6

  Mateo sat on the steps leading to the second floor of the partially renovated house, his thoughts in the main room with Kayla. Seeing her for most of every day was killing him. He grew closer to her all the time through their mutual concern for the street children and through their determination to help the mission. She’d quit worrying so much about him, and she didn’t seem to care that he walked with the aid of a prosthetic leg. In fact, ever since he told her about it and about his past, she’d seemed warmer toward him, as though she was interested in one of the romantic flings neither of them ever participated in.

  Yet he couldn’t deny the strong urge to include this woman in his life. If only he could figure out what to do about the fact that she would be going back to the Un
ited States in a week. Living on two different continents didn’t bode well for any kind of romantic relationship, but Mateo didn’t want to let her go. Not when his heart told him to pursue her.

  Carlos came downstairs and sat beside him. “You want to tell me about it?”

  “About what?” Mateo asked.

  “Whatever it is that’s bothering you.” Carlos laid a hand on Mateo’s shoulder. “You know I will help you however I can.”

  “I know.” Mateo combed his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Have you prayed about it?”

  Mateo remembered the number of times he’d gone to God for guidance. “Repeatedly.”

  “And what do you feel God is leading you to do?”

  “That’s just it. I feel like He wants me to go in both directions, but I don’t see how it is possible.”

  Carlos remained silent for a moment, and then spoke in a thoughtful tone. “Perhaps if I knew what directions you feel compelled to go in, I could help you figure out where God wants you to be.”

  “I suppose I can tell you. You probably already know anyway.” Mateo glanced toward the archway leading into the main room. “But let’s take a walk. I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing.”

  “That bad, huh?” Carlos said as they stood.

  “No, not really.” Mateo rose and led the way down the stairs. He waited by the front door while Carlos told one of the mission’s regular volunteers they were going out, praying for the strength to admit his dilemma to the man who had become his father.

  Ever since a misguided attempt at a relationship that had almost ended in disaster when he was twenty, Mateo had avoided becoming romantically involved with any woman. Carlos had agreed that he would be better off waiting for the woman God intended to come along rather than dating multiple women in an attempt to find her on his own. After seven years of waiting, Mateo had begun to wonder if God intended for him to remain single forever. Then Kayla arrived and turned everything he thought he knew about God’s plan for his life upside down.

  Carlos returned and the two men stepped out into the cloudy day. They walked quietly for a moment while Mateo gathered his thoughts, then he glanced at Carlos.

  “You know I have always felt my place is here at the mission. That this is where God wants me to be.”

  “Has that changed?” Carlos asked as he skirted a pile of trash.

  “No. I am sure God still wants me to be here, helping the street children.” Mateo looked around the rundown buildings, trash-filled gutters, and the few ragged and worn people walking along the dirt street. “But now, I feel God is leading me in a new direction, one that does not fit well with this life.”

  “If God is leading you in a new direction while keeping you here, there is a way for it to work.”

  “I don’t see how.” Mateo took a deep breath, digging deep for the courage to admit to the new direction. “I’ve come to care about Kayla a great deal, and in my heart I feel she is the one I have been waiting for. But I can’t ask her to give up her life in America and come here to live in...this. She deserves a better life than I could give her. A better life than living with and worrying about los desechables.”

  Carlos put out a hand and stopped him, turning to face him fully. “What if this is where God wants her?”

  “How could He? Kayla has not spoken of staying here. She only speaks of the fact she is going home soon. Yes, she has compassion for the children, as we all do, but she does not appear to have the desire to work with the mission full time.” Mateo shook his head and looked away. “I pray for wisdom and guidance, but nothing changes. I still feel pulled in two conflicting directions with no hint as to what I am supposed to do.”

  “Perhaps it is God’s way of telling you to wait.” Carlos laid a hand on Mateo’s shoulder. “I know Kayla cares about you. It is obvious in the way she looks at you and interacts with you. Perhaps she, too, is feeling pulled in two conflicting directions and is waiting for God to show her which way to go.”

  “Maybe.” Mateo hadn’t considered that Kayla might also be struggling with finding God’s will for her life. Could it be that with time and patience the direction of their lives would become clear? After another moment’s thought, he gave his friend and pastor a small smile. “Thank you, Carlos. Though it is bound to be difficult, I will attempt to wait patiently.”

  The pastor chuckled as they headed back the way they had come. “Just remember that waiting patiently doesn’t mean you have to sit still and do nothing. I don’t see how it could hurt to continue to develop your relationship with Kayla, if that is truly what you feel God is leading you to do. She is lovely young lady.”

  The warmth that filled Mateo whenever he thought of Kayla, as well as the certainty in his heart that she was the woman God intended for him, indicated he should follow Carlos’s advice. But unlike the pastor, he could see how it would hurt. If he and Kayla fell in love, but she returned to the United States anyway, they would both have broken hearts. With all the hurt and disappointment Mateo had suffered in his life, he wasn’t sure how he would survive losing Kayla as well.

  They arrived back at the house and found a delivery truck parked in front of it. A man wearing a logoed jacket stood by the open back, presumably guarding the contents against thieves. Mateo exchanged a glance with Carlos, seeing his confusion mirrored in the older man’s eyes. They hadn’t yet solicited donations to furnish the house, and they certainly hadn’t ordered anything for it. The mission’s budget rarely allowed for the purchase of new items.

  Kayla bounded out the front door, her eyes alight with excitement as she joined them. “You’re not going to believe this—I can barely believe it myself—but my father has made a very generous donation to the new children’s home.”

  “Oh?” Carlos said, glancing toward the delivery truck.

  “I’ve been keeping him updated on the progress we’re making on the house, and last night I sent him an email with a few photos of the finished kitchen.” Kayla clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Apparently he placed an order this morning and arranged to have it delivered.”

  “What is it?” Mateo asked, his heart melting at the sight of her joyful countenance. Never had she looked more beautiful.

  “Come see.” She grabbed his hand and led him into the house with Carlos close behind.

  They had to wait for a pair of deliverymen with a hand truck to pass by; then they continued down the hall to the kitchen. Mateo could barely believe what he saw. A quick glance at Carlos showed the pastor’s eyes wide and his mouth slightly open as he gazed at the kitchen.

  A huge stainless steel refrigerator stood against one wall, and a matching range sat waiting to be hooked up. In the center of the floor, two men were assembling what appeared to be a large worktable. Boxes of cabinetry and a pair of countertops stood near the only existing counter, which contained the sink and was too small to be of much use when cooking for a houseful of children.

  “Can you believe it?” Kayla said. “He’s outfitted the entire kitchen so it will be ready for anything.”

  “This is amazing.” Carlos turned to her with moisture glistening in his eyes. “God will surely bless your father for his generosity.”

  Kayla released Mateo’s hand and moved to the pastor, her eyes sparkling. “Just wait until the rest of it gets here. You’ll be speechless.”

  “There’s more?”

  She nodded and hugged Carlos. “He’s going to send furniture once the rest of the rooms are finished. You’ll only need to supply bedding and dishes and small things like that.”

  “We are truly blessed.” Carlos stepped back and moved toward the door. “I must tell Maria.”

  Mateo took Kayla’s hand, needing to hold on to something while he recovered from his shock. “Your father...he is a very generous man.”

  “Yes, he is.” She gave his hand a squeeze, and then pulled ou
t a folded piece of paper. “He faxed a note to be delivered with the appliances and cabinets. I’ll give it to Carlos and Maria later. You can read it, if you want.”

  Mateo unfolded the note and scanned it, his heart squeezing with gratitude and something else he couldn’t identify. Kayla’s father explained that with each update she sent him, he felt led to do something to help the mission. It wasn’t until he saw the pictures of the completed kitchen that he knew what he needed to do. He knew in his heart that God wanted him to provide the things that would be difficult for the mission to get. The note went on to detail what would be arriving and gave contact information for one of Shaw Restoration’s local employees who would help them arrange for future deliveries of furniture as they were ready to put it in the house.

  Unable to speak for the emotions roiling through him, Mateo wrapped Kayla in a hug, holding her tightly and silently thanking God for her and her father. She slid her arms around his waist and leaned against him, and he knew it was no use fighting the truth any longer. He loved this woman and wanted her in his life, wherever God chose to lead him.

  Before he could figure out what to say, the sound of small running footsteps accompanied by crying raced toward them from the front of the house. Mateo released Kayla and turned toward the door, his heart stopping when a tearful Claudia launched herself toward him and threw her skinny arms around his legs.

  He leaned down and hugged her, praying for her as he placed a finger under her chin and nudged her to meet his gaze. “Claudia, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s Juan Miguel.” She buried her face against Mateo, muffling her sobs.

  Fear raced through him. He knelt and put his hands on the girl’s shoulders, holding her away from him and hoping that by looking him in the eye she would be able to focus on what he needed to know. “Claudia, what’s happened to your brother?”

  “Three men came and tried to hurt me, but he stopped them. They started hitting him, and Jorge came to help him and told me to run.” She hiccupped, obviously fighting to stay in control of her emotions. “I hid where they couldn’t see me.”