by JoAnn Durgin
Breakfast was another quick event with cereal and milk, and coffee and juice, before everyone dashed off to the meeting circle. It must be the popular spot to congregate for both the evening devotionals and the Sunday morning Bible study. “Come with us, Lexa.” Winnie pulled her along behind the group of volunteers headed toward the circle.
Lexa pasted a smile on her face, masking her annoyance. “Don’t do me any favors,” she mumbled under her breath.
“What?” Winnie didn’t ease the hold on her arm, but she graced her with a sweet smile.
“I said . . . it’s such a nice morning.” Lexa forced a brightness into her voice from somewhere deep inside. Nothing like being coerced into going to the Bible study against her will. Still, she felt no inclination to fight and could think of worse things than staring at a handsome man for however long the study lasted. Maybe she’d learn something.
Rebekah hooked her arm through Lexa’s, keeping pace with them. “Enjoy today. Sunday is the one day where we can actually get a little rest in the afternoon if we want.”
Opening a chorus book after everyone was settled around the circle, Sam retrieved a pair of wire-rimmed glasses and led a chorus of Praise the Name of Jesus. The voices of those sitting around Lexa rose in song, some strong, some soft. Glancing around the circle for Sheila, she spied her huddled on the outer edge. She didn’t know the words either.
Moving across the circle, Lexa dropped down beside her. Sheila graced her with her usual shy smile. She wanted to befriend this quiet, withdrawn woman. Something about her reminded Lexa of herself, the introverted part that found it difficult, if not impossible, to open up and let anyone else share her life.
As Sam asked them to open to a verse of scripture, Lexa noticed most of the others carried Bibles. Strike two. She chided herself for not unearthing and bringing her old Bible to the TeamWork camp. Who goes to a Christian camp without a Bible? What an oversight. She wasn’t even sure where it was—maybe stuck at the top of a closet or in the bottom of a drawer. Or she might have donated it somewhere along the way to Goodwill or the Salvation Army.
Lexa doubted she could recall any of the verses of scripture she’d learned all those years ago, or recognize the hymns or songs. An overwhelming feeling of inadequacy pervaded her senses. Shaking her head, she hung her head and closed her eyes, torn between feelings of self-recrimination and doubt. What was she doing here? What had she gotten herself into? She hoped this group would give her more than three chances. She’d need them. At least they didn’t seem judgmental, even for someone as hopeless as her.
“Jonah wondered what in the world he was doing there, in the belly of that huge fish,” Sam said at that exact same moment, echoing her own thoughts. Lexa’s head snapped up, and her eyes settled on the self-assured man standing in the center of the circle. “Here he was, sitting in the belly of a fish, pondering his options.”
Clamping a hand over her mouth, Lexa nearly cried aloud. Just like me! Holding his open Bible, Sam talked about how that was the exact place where God wanted Jonah, to teach him and the other men onboard the ship a lesson about the power of the Almighty. She tuned out Sam’s voice for a long moment. Is that what you’re trying to teach me, God? How powerful you are?
Focusing on Sam a few seconds later, Lexa found blue eyes on her. Maybe he just happened to look in her direction. Then again, it could be the reflection from his glasses. But, no. Lexa suspected Sam stared at her for a reason. Did he think she needed to hear this lesson? The very idea made her bristle. The audacity of the man! He didn’t know anything about her, so how dare he make assumptions? She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest in spite of the fact the temperature reached almost ninety degrees.
Chapter 8
When the time of prayer began, Sam sat down. His gaze traveled around the circle until it rested on Lexa. His words stirred something inside her. Angered her, judging by the fire sparking in those eyes when they looked up and met his. Beautiful eyes that held a sadness and masked a deep, inner pain to trigger her defensiveness. Sam shifted his position. Now he was an armchair psychologist.
Lexa was a challenge. The other female volunteers in his camp were strong Christians since the womb. They knew the books of the Bible by heart—could practically recite scripture verses backwards and forwards—and stayed active in their home churches. Any of the TeamWork women around the circle might qualify as a wife and lifelong partner, but is that what he really wanted? He’d been seeking the perfect Christian woman for years. But he was honest enough to admit no such woman really existed except in his own mind. He thought he’d found her in Shelby, but she’d disappointed him greatly. And then she died.
Lexa Clarke wasn’t strong in her faith. As far as having a strong commitment to the Lord—from what he could tell, she left something to be desired in that category. Not that it was a bad thing. But did she understand what she’d done so long ago when she asked Jesus into her heart? Did she want to gain a deeper understanding of what it means to have Christ as the Lord of her life? Desire to find the power and unbelievable freedom to be found in surrendering her will to the authority of the Almighty? That was often the hardest thing for people to do.
He’d noticed Lexa standing on the perimeter of the bonfire circle the night before. The look on her face was intriguing. Almost wistful. He wondered what she thought as she listened to their singing. He wanted to call out to her, but he couldn’t very well do that without drawing undue attention to her.
More than anything else, Sam prayed Lexa would start to feel comfortable and join them. At least she’d ventured out of the dorm and come outside, drawn to their bonfire circle. That was a good sign. Lowering his head to pray, Sam heard none of the other prayer requests, lost in his own.
“Lexa! Wait up!” Sam called as the prayer time ended. He thrived on interaction with his volunteers, the challenge of following up with intensive study and research. Answering one of the newer volunteer’s questions, he kept one eye on Lexa as the group scattered.
His conversation ended a couple of minutes later, Sam spied her in the same place, a few yards away. Her back was turned, and one foot dug in the dirt. She appeared vulnerable, prepared to bolt at the slightest provocation. He’d need to tread carefully. “Thanks for waiting.”
“No problem.” With a shrug of those slender shoulders, Lexa slid her hands down into the pockets of her khaki shorts as they walked together.
The top of her blonde head hit somewhere in the middle of his chest. She was tiny all over. Petite. That was the word for it. But even though she was diminutive in stature, she was well-proportioned with long legs and feminine curves in all the best places. She looked dainty, delicate— like she could barely lift a hammer—but he’d seen how strong she was at the worksite. Not to mention she could wield a flying tire iron with the best of them. In spite of her seeming fragility, Lexa possessed an underlying strength, emotional as well as physical.
“I wanted to ask how things are going for you so far.” He tried to keep his tone casual. Glancing her way, he caught her looking at him. Stealing glances was becoming a habit with both of them. Sam’s normally slow, steady heartbeat betrayed him. “Are you finding everything you need?” That sounded pretty insipid, and he hoped she wouldn’t find him a complete imbecile.
When Lexa smiled, it was encouragement enough to keep going. “Considering there’s not much to find, I’m managing fairly well, thank you.”
“Please don’t tell me you find our little work camp boring, Lexa.” When he quirked an eyebrow, she laughed. It was such a great laugh, lilting and surprisingly deep. Pleased he’d made this interesting creature happy, Sam hated to think his next question might chase away that laughter, that entrancing smile.
“It’s growing on me.”
“I’m glad you came to the Bible study this morning. Did you enjoy it?”
Lexa’s eyes narrowed and her smile faded somewhat, as he suspected it would. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”
“I thought you might be able to identify with Jonah and his predicament.”
Stopping in her tracks and turning to face him, Lexa’s eyes blazed. The wrath was coming. Although he’d risk her anger by bringing up the subject, he had to know. Had to know where this woman stood in her spiritual walk. No matter how hard he’d tried to get Lexa out of his mind since meeting her only the day before—the image of those eyes, that mouth—popped into his mind. Maybe he was wrong and physical looks meant more to him than he realized. Surely he wasn’t that vain.
“Exactly what predicament are you referring to?” Lexa stared, wide-eyed, her pretty mouth an unyielding straight line.
Sam covered with a lighthearted glance, attempting to keep the mood as light as possible. “All I mean is, this whole missions thing, is new to you, isn’t it?” That much was obvious. He was bungling this already.
“Okay,” Lexa said. She crossed her arms and planted her feet apart in a stance of preparing to go into battle. “What exactly did the TeamWork interviewer tell you about me? Go ahead, I want to know.” When she caught Sam’s look of surprise, she blurted out, “It’s obvious she either told you something—or wrote something on my application—that’s given you cause for concern.”
“I wouldn’t call it concern.” Sam guided her aside, away from the curious stares of the others.
Shaking off his arm, Lexa glared at him, her cheeks flaming. “I told you yesterday when you picked me up from the bus station that I’m here to help. If that doesn’t fit the criteria for helping out with this mission, then I might as well go pack my bag now and head back to Houston. Just because I don’t know every chorus or bring a Bible with me . . .” Her voice trailed.
From her mortified expression, Sam could tell she’d just admitted something she didn’t want him to know. Her gaze dropped to the ground, and she released a shuddering sigh that ran all the way through him.
Lexa turned her head, but not before he glimpsed her tears. “I don’t need your pity.” Her words were barely more than a whisper. “Just let me stay and help with the building project or whatever else it is you want me to do, but don’t pressure me into anything else, okay?”
“Okay. Deal.” Feeling like an idiot, but not knowing how else to react, Sam thrust out his hand as if to seal the agreement. Accepting his hand with obvious reluctance, Lexa’s eyes moved back to his. Her frown conveyed her confusion.
Her soft, warm hand fit perfectly. The sensation of her much smaller hand in his triggered instincts and affected him deeply, in places and ways he didn’t expect. Protective instincts, but it was much more than that. Holding on a few seconds longer than necessary, Sam’s heart raced. He slowly released her hand, overcome with the emotion of not wanting to let go. Ever.
“I’m sorry, Lexa. And,” he added with a sidelong glance as they began walking again, “for the record, it’s not pity. It’s interest with a healthy dose of compassion and sensitivity thrown in, I like to believe.”
“Is that right?” The irony in her tone only reinforced the ridiculousness of his words. She must think him a pompous windbag, overblown with his own ego.
“Believe it or not, I admire you.”
Lexa stopped, quiet for an extended moment. “How can you admire me when you don’t even know me?”
“I know firsthand how hard it is to leave a job, your home and security for eight weeks. That takes a major commitment. Other than working with Habitat, I get the impression it’s the first time you’ve ever done something like this. Am I right?”
Lexa’s cheeks grew pink again, but at least she didn’t look away. Sure enough, those arms crossed in front of her. For an independent woman who didn’t hesitate to speak her mind, she sometimes seemed tongue-tied. “You’re pretty good at reading people.”
“I try. Maybe it’s annoying at times, but it helps me be a better leader.” Sam grunted. “Listen, I was actually wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. But,” he added, arching a brow, “since you don’t want to be pressured into anything else, I guess a date is out of the question.” After deciding he wasn’t going to ask Lexa out, the words slid off his tongue, unbidden, of their own accord. Maybe it was the Holy Spirit prompting him. Then again, maybe it wasn’t.
“I . . . I,” Lexa spouted, unsuccessful in hiding her shock. “I certainly didn’t expect that question.”
Sam scratched his head. “Neither did I, to be honest. But it’s out there, so we might as well deal with it.” He hadn’t asked anyone out in more than three years. Under normal circumstances, he preferred getting to know a woman better before asking her on a date. Since Lexa also lived in Houston, common sense would dictate waiting until after the TeamWork camp was over. But normalcy and common sense had long since flown out the window.
She tilted her head to one side, but didn’t appear angry. “Was I just insulted?”
“No. That didn’t come out the way I intended. I believe I just asked you for a date. I hope you have an answer.” Leaning his head down, Sam attempted to regain her eye contact. The woman looked a million miles away. He was beginning to recognize that look, and it was only the second day of the camp. It might be an exhilarating eight weeks ahead. Or it could be quite awkward if things didn’t go well.
Lexa started to cross her arms, and Sam felt a measure of satisfaction when she dropped them to her sides. Her mouth twisted in what looked like a serious attempt not to grin. “I’m sure you’re a man used to getting what he wants.”
“Neither do I ask for something I don’t want.” Where that line came from, he had no idea. But he meant it. If only those eyes of hers weren’t so incredible. Big, luminous pools of blue-green drawing him in and wrapping around his emotions, his mind. He could drown in those eyes. No woman had ever affected him this way, not even Shelby. Knowing what was best, Sam avoided looking at Lexa’s mouth. No answer seemed forthcoming, so he turned to go.
“I didn’t say no.”
Sam took his sweet time in turning back around to face her. “I’m not sure how to interpret that answer. Reading a woman’s mind is not my strong suit.” When Lexa met his eyes, he was half afraid she was going to turn him down flat.
“I suppose my answer is . . . yes.” It almost sounded like a question. He wasn’t sure which of the two of them was more surprised by the turn of events—the question or the answer.
He nodded, and a grin escaped. “Good.” It was way better than good, but he had to keep his image intact. Jumping up and down like a kid didn’t seem appropriate. Yes never sounded so promising. Lexa’s answer thrilled him more than he wanted to admit. Sam nodded and ran a hand through his hair. It was a nervous habit. Not that it was a bad thing, but he needed to watch it.
The look she gave him told him he might have jumped the gun. It was pretty obvious she thought he was a fast worker. In this case, he had to agree. But the die was cast. Sam was determined to play out this little scenario, enjoy the ride and see what happened.
“Forgive me, but I have to ask. Do you make it a habit to ask out your new volunteers?” Lexa giggled, a sound as surprising as it was charming.
He laughed. “Not usually, no. Even then,” he added, fighting the nerves twisting inside, “only the . . .”
Amusement slowly widened Lexa’s grin. “The spicy ones?” She crossed her arms and shook her head, and it swung her braid like a clock’s pendulum.
Great. Now she’d think he was a player when nothing could be further from the truth. He had to keep talking before Lexa came to her senses and changed her mind. “We could get away together for a little while either tomorrow night or the next. I can ask one of the other guys to cover the bonfire and give everyone a break from me for one night.” He grinned. “If you’d like, we can go down to the Riverwalk and grab some dessert.”
Sam prayed Lexa couldn’t tell how his loud his heart thundered, how shallow his breathing had become. This was something he really wanted, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. Just the way she looked at him made him
want to know more about her. He sensed a hesitancy, as if she somehow felt unworthy. But unworthy of God’s love, or something else, he couldn’t guess. That’s what he wanted to find out. On the other hand, he could be totally misreading her.
“I love the Riverwalk, but I’m not sure how many desserts you can simply reach out and grab.” Lexa dug the toe of one boot into the barren ground again, shoving her hands in the pockets of her shorts before finally looking back up at him. It was the same thing she’d done earlier. Maybe she was more nervous than she let on.
Sam laughed. “I can see you’re a literalist. I’ll need to watch my syntax around you.”
Lexa shook her head. “Syntax is the study of the structure of a sentence. I simply meant to watch what you say, Mr. Lewis. There’s a difference.”
Watching her walk back into the women’s dorm, Sam shook his head and smiled. “I’ll do that, Miss Clarke.”
Would he ever.
~~**~~
Lexa didn’t look back. The fluttering in her stomach tickled her from the inside out. It was undeniable although she hadn’t felt it in a very long time. The first time it happened, she was seventeen and the guy in her senior class she’d crushed on for years caught her eye and smiled. But, of course, that’s all it was. One little moment frozen in time—complete with scratched goggles and glass beakers in a chemistry lab.
The second time, it was with a man named Nick she worked with in Houston. After she devoted almost a year of her life to him, he’d tarried with her emotions and moved off to greener pastures in Colorado without so much as a decent good-bye. Lexa wasn’t sure she’d ever recover from the hurt. Nick claimed to be a good Christian man, but based on what she’d heard from friends, he’d found someone to satisfy his more basic, primitive urges. At least anger made it easier to forgive the hurt.
