by JoAnn Durgin
Rebekah lowered her head and wiped away another tear. “Shelby wasn’t wearing her seat belt that night and was thrown out of the car. She probably would have survived otherwise. At least Jake had his on. But,” she said with a shuddering sigh, “don’t let Sam fool you.” She gestured for Lexa to hand her another tissue. “The man’s pretty serious. His humor is one way he manages to keep going.”
She attempted a feeble smile. “Sam likes you, Lexa. I know he does. I can see it in the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you. He always looks around for you when you’re not there, and then acts all nonchalant about it.” Rebekah smiled and dabbed again at her still-watery eyes. “I didn’t think I’d see that look in his eyes again for a long time, to tell you the truth. But it’s there now. It’s different from the way he looked at Shelby, too. He lights up all over and his voice goes all soft. You bring out the best in him. And,” she continued, releasing a shuddering sigh, “in your own way—even unconsciously—you’re helping Sam to heal.”
“He talks about me? I mean,” Lexa stammered, not wishing to sound like a high school girl with a crush. Inside, her heart was soaring. She had no reason to celebrate. Still, if it was true that she was helping Sam heal from the aftermath of losing Shelby, it could be a positive thing.
“Well, of course he does, silly. He has to talk with someone, doesn’t he? Shelby was one of my best friends, and since Sam met her because of me, we bonded, especially after she died. It’s not anything romantic between us, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s more of a mental connection or whatever. We shared something no one should ever have to share. We’re both stronger because we survived it together. In many ways, Sam is like an older brother to me and Josh.” Rebekah sighed. “I’m sure you’ve noticed how he’s a mentor, and friend, to all the TeamWork crew. Until he has kids of his own, I guess we’re all kind of like Sam’s kids.”
Lexa nodded. “I can tell Sam pours his heart and soul into TeamWork. It’s more than just a job to him.”
Wiping her eyes, Rebekah took a deep breath. “Right. It’s a ministry he’s absorbed into his soul. But,” she added, giving Lexa a rather coy smile, “I think part of the healing process is that Sam’s finally starting to realize he wants to share his life with someone.”
“I’m sure Sam’s had more than his share of girlfriends.” Maybe she was fishing, but as much as anyone, Rebekah might have the answer.
“No, not really.” That was surprising. “I mean, sure he’s dated. Look at the man.” She laughed a little, wiping her pink nose. “He’s probably left a trail of broken hearts around Texas. But, as far as I know, no one caught him, so to speak, before Shelby.”
Lexa couldn’t resist. “What do you think it was about Shelby that caught Sam’s attention, besides the fact that she was sweet . . . and gorgeous?” That was hard to say. Was she actually jealous of someone no longer among the living? Surely not . . . that would be positively morbid. Poor Shelby.
Rebekah thought about the question. “It could be that he hadn’t slowed down enough. Maybe he hadn’t taken the time to really get to know a woman. He was concentrated on getting his undergraduate degree, making a success of his financial planning business, and working with TeamWork.” She looked at Lexa again. “Before and after Shelby, Sam simply hasn’t taken the time to devote to a relationship.”
Lexa nodded. That explanation made sense from what she knew of Sam Lewis.
A tiny grin surfaced as Rebekah elbowed Lexa. “Maybe it’s something about this particular camp. I think there might be romance in the air or something.” She nudged her arm. “Maybe it just took the right woman. In God’s perfect timing.”
Lexa ignored her last comment. She couldn’t think that way. “I’m glad you and Sam could comfort one another, Rebekah, and again, I’m so sorry about Shelby. Thanks for telling me about her. I know how hard it was for you.” Pulling the younger girl into her arms, Lexa enfolded her in a long hug of comfort and friendship.
“I’m glad you’re here, Lexa. You’re good for us, all of us,” Rebekah murmured.
The words warmed Lexa’s heart. With her arms wrapped around Rebekah, she wondered if it would hurt Sam if she asked about Shelby. Then again, she had no reason. It wasn’t jealousy she felt, really. It was more a pervasive sadness that he’d suffered and lost someone he dearly loved.
Jumbled thoughts crowded Lexa’s mind as she showered, allowing the hot, steamy water to soothe and comfort her. Sam had been engaged. Lexa couldn’t help wondering what Shelby Hanson looked like. She must have been the kind of strong Christian woman Sam wanted. She must have been special to attract the attention of a man like Sam.
Lexa didn’t stop to think what that said about her, too.
~~**~~
Sam rinsed his shaver under the warm water and laid it on the side of the sink. He eyed the aftershave. Grabbing it before he changed his mind, he sprinkled out a little and pressed it against his cheeks. Headed into the bedroom, he grabbed a white polo and his one good pair of jeans from the closet.
As he continued getting dressed, pulling on the jeans and tucking in his shirt, his thoughts strayed to Lexa. Images of her invaded his mind at any given moment throughout the day.
He hoped she understood a few things. Like he’d told her at the worksite, he didn’t want to date for the sake of companionship. Casual dating had no place in his life. After searching his heart, he knew Rebekah was right. It was time to move past Shelby and get on with the business of living, learning, loving. With Lexa in the TeamWork camp, he’d started to believe a lifetime love might be possible. In some ways, it was as frightening as it was exhilarating.
Lexa hadn’t set out to snare him on purpose, with any kind of intent to hook him. Others had tried, but he’d ignored them. Lexa managed to do it all on her own, by virtue of a sweet, innocent sassiness that reached out to his heart unlike any other woman. They were barely into the work camp. It was amazing, really.
As Sam finished dressing, he went back to the closet and pulled out the navy blue sportcoat, the nicest piece of clothing he’d brought to the camp. Lexa might like to see him in it. He wanted her to see him dressed up a bit. Not that it was a date. But, somehow it sure felt like one. He needed to make up for the Riverwalk disaster. Hopefully tonight he could get a few minutes alone with her.
Glancing in the mirror, he smiled. “Lexa Clarke, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” Tossing his keys in the air before pocketing them, Sam smiled. He headed out of the office in the direction of the station wagon, full of high hopes.
Chapter 19
“You loo–loo–look re–re–real–really pr–pretty tonight, L–L–Lexa.”
Lexa turned around with a grateful smile, fixing one of her earrings. “Thanks, Sheila.” It was a nice compliment.
“I–I h–ho–hope y–you ha–have a g–goo–good ti–ti–time.”
“I hope so, too.” Earlier in the week, Lexa invited her to join their group going into town to Maxie’s, a popular coffee house in downtown San Antonio. It didn’t surprise her when Sheila declined in favor of staying at the camp. Rebekah also opted not to come. Guilt tugged at Lexa. Rebekah might be too exhausted after telling her about Shelby. She tried to get her to change her mind, but couldn’t.
An hour later, Lexa sat squished with four others in the backseat of the Volvo as the car bumped along the dirt road. She was already overheated, but it was good to get out of the camp and have free time in town. For the most part, Lexa listened to the lively, laugh-filled banter.
Glancing up to the front a couple of times, Lexa saw Sam watching her in the rearview mirror. When he winked, she almost winked back—then chickened out and felt the telltale warmth in her cheeks. She had the feeling Sam did it to get that very reaction. Turning her head, not bothering to hide her grin, Lexa looked out the window. Daring to look back a couple of minutes later, she saw Sam raise a brow and give her a wide grin. She laughed under her breath. Others around her engaged in lively conversations
while Sam talked in low tones with the guy in the passenger seat.
Dropping the group off on a side street, Sam asked them to meet him in the same location four hours later. Most of the guys took off as a group, and Lexa watched as Sam departed with a wave, headed back to the camp to pick up the second group of volunteers. She wondered if tonight Sam might regret making the rule stipulating he was the only driver in and out of the camp. She reminded herself that tonight wasn’t a date. All the sparks flying around between them in the car might indicate otherwise.
It was fun to poke in and out of the tourist shops and open air markets with Amy and Winnie. Fanning themselves with cheap paper fans, they tried their best to keep cool as they walked. They gloried in and lingered longer in the air-conditioned shops. Lexa wished again for rain, especially if it would help cool the temperatures even just a little.
“Look at this turquoise necklace, Lexa,” Amy called from the other side of one of the shops. “Isn’t it pretty? I think my younger sister might like it for her birthday.” She held it up. “It’s a little more than I want to spend, but Celeste loves jewelry. What do you think?”
Lexa nodded, although she’d never been fond of turquoise except as a color. “If it comes from you, Amy, then I’m sure your sister will love it.”
Amy gave her a bright smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
Waiting while Amy purchased the necklace, Lexa wandered outside. She found it intriguing that a girl with the trust fund was so cost-conscious. It was a good trait and would serve her well. Hearing a woman’s loud voice, she turned her head. Her eyes widened as she realized the woman was berating a child. And it wasn’t just any child.
Margarita.
Starting in their direction, something held Lexa back. She stopped and stared, taking in the unsettling scene unfolding in the marketplace. A man was shouting at the woman and she, in turn, was yelling at the little girl. Lexa could only assume the woman was Margarita’s mother. The child’s eyes spilled over with tears and she shook her head, her hair flying wildly. But she didn’t say a word.
The two adults spoke Spanish so fast, Lexa couldn’t keep up. How could they even understand each other? They screamed in anger, trying to be the loudest and most belligerent. Yanking something from Margarita’s hands, the man thrust it in the woman’s face. It was some kind of painted pottery, a small jar perhaps.
Amy came to stand beside Lexa. “Isn’t that your Margarita?”
Lexa nodded without speaking.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t like it.” Lexa stepped forward.
“Wait a minute. Maybe we shouldn’t interfere.” Amy put a hesitant hand on her arm.
Lexa stopped, not daring to blink. By now, a small crowd gathered to watch. It didn’t bother the man or woman as they continued their shouting match, leaving the scared little girl cowering between the two.
Margarita spied Lexa and ran in her direction, her arms opened wide. It was a second or two before the adults saw her and then they, too, were right behind the girl, unwittingly catapulting Lexa in the middle of their quarrel. Margarita clung to Lexa’s bare legs, hanging on for dear life, burying her head against her stomach. Lexa stroked Margarita’s hair in the gesture familiar and comforting to the frightened child.
Lexa looked up with eyes blazing. She had no intention of joining in their screaming match, but Margarita must be defended. Maybe she was God’s messenger this time, like Sam had been with her when she was accosted by those teenage thugs.
Without a word, the woman reached out. Snatching Margarita by the wrist, she wrenched her away. All the pent-up emotion poured out of the little girl, and she kicked and screamed as the woman dragged her away. Lexa felt a bit of her heart breaking as Margarita turned sad, pleading eyes on her.
When the woman raised a hand to strike Margarita, Lexa could no longer remain silent. Time for action. “That does it!” Lexa shouted, running for the girl with Amy close behind. “Listen, I don’t know who you are, but you have no right to treat this child in such a deplorable manner!” Lexa stood in front of the couple. Her heart was beating with uncontrollable abandon, and her legs felt like jelly, but she had to help Margarita. She was only a defenseless child. At least the woman lowered her hand before making contact with Margarita.
Lexa addressed the woman. “Do you speak English?” It wouldn’t help matters if they needed an interpreter to communicate. Her limited knowledge of Spanish wouldn’t help in this volatile situation.
“Si,” the woman answered after momentary hesitation. “Yes.” She stared at Lexa as though astonished by the boldness of an outsider who dared to intrude.
Lexa swallowed hard. The small crowd started to disburse now that the shouting was over. “Are you Margarita’s mother?” She’d never seen this woman at the schoolhouse since Margarita arrived and left with her older brother and sister most days.
“What’s it to you?” The woman pushed an insolent finger into Lexa’s arm.
“I’m Lexa Clarke, one of her teachers.” Standing her ground, Lexa met the woman’s dark-eyed, unwavering stare. “Mrs. . . .” Her voice trailed.
“Martinez.” The voice was low.
From the corner of her eye, Lexa could tell Amy had backed away. It didn’t seem like a good time for introductions, in any case.
“Mrs. Martinez, I don’t know what the problem is here, but you can’t solve it by hitting Margarita. She’s a very sweet little girl. I’m sure whatever’s happened is something that can be solved without violence.”
The woman scoffed. “You got any kids, lady?”
Lexa shook her head. “No.”
“Well, then,” she said, turning away in obvious dismissal, one hand anchored on her hip, “you got no business telling me how to raise mine!” Pausing, she turned around as fast as her large frame would allow, eyebrows raised. “Hey, you! Wait a minute!” she snarled. “You the teacher that keeps putting all those crazy thoughts in Margarita’s dumb little head?”
Lexa felt like striking the woman down on the spot, right then and there. She’d never hit another woman with her bare hands—never hit a woman at all—but she was sorely tempted now. Clenching her teeth, her fists curled at her sides, she forced herself to count to three under her breath before trusting herself to speak.
“I pray to God you don’t ever use that term about your daughter again.” Her voice was bold and firm with a conviction stronger than she’d ever felt before. Maybe this is what it meant to have the Holy Spirit take over. “Margarita is a beautiful, very bright child, Mrs. Martinez. She deserves to be treated with respect.” Why did God give children to people like this in the first place if they don’t treat them with the love and respect they deserve? Whether ignorance or neglect, there was no excuse.
“Let me tell you what this beautiful, bright child just did.” The tone was hostile, the words clipped as she glared at Lexa. “Did you see the pot that man was holding? The one he grabbed from Margarita’s hands?”
Lexa nodded, noticing the man was nowhere to be seen. Margarita stopped whimpering, and stood to the side of the woman, staring up at her with those big eyes that tugged at her heart. Lexa swallowed hard and gave her a little smile of encouragement.
“Well, Miss Lexa whatever-your-name-is, your little teacher’s pet just stole it from that man’s store!”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean to steal it,” Lexa began before being cut off mid-sentence.
“Oh yeah, she did. She stole it because she wanted to give it to you!” The woman stood back, and it was obvious she relished the stunned look on Lexa’s face. “You encouraging Margarita to steal, lady?”
Lexa shook her head vehemently. “I’d never do that, Mrs. Martinez.” If anything, it was this woman teaching her to steal. “Look,” she said, pushing a stray strand of hair from her eyes, darting a quick glance around, looking for Amy, “I’m not a thief and neither is Margarita. If she took it, I’m sure it was a mistake. If it wasn
’t a mistake, she wanted attention. Your attention. Why don’t you try giving her a little of yourself every now and then?”
Lexa shut her mouth, realizing what she was saying, what she was doing—engaged in verbal warfare in the middle of the open-air market with a woman she’d never even met before. Was she crazy? But Lexa stood her ground. It was right to fight for Margarita, no matter the consequences. The little girl was defenseless against her own mother. If God—or anyone else—had a problem with it, she’d deal with it later and face the consequences.
“Leave me alone, and leave Margarita alone or you’ll be sorry!” Grabbing Margarita by the arm, the woman dragged her away.
Part of her wanted to run after Margarita, but what could she do? Helplessness was a horrible thing. Lexa turned her back, and her eyes filled with tears. She stood rooted to the concrete, collecting her thoughts and attempting to calm herself. Biting her trembling lower lip, she stared straight ahead and forced deep breaths.
“Hey, you okay?” Amy walked over from where she’d been watching outside a nearby shop.
Frustration threatened to spill over. She could have used an ally in Amy. Then again, she also understood. A few weeks ago—even as recently as a couple of days ago—she might have reacted in the same manner and retreated to the background if something like this happened. Face-to-face confrontations were never easy. But in this case, it wasn’t a choice. Lexa prayed Margarita would be okay once that woman got her behind closed doors. She shuddered and her heart hurt. Lord, keep Margarita safe.
“What’s happening to me, Amy?” Lexa shook her head, not expecting an answer.
Amy looked baffled. “I don’t understand.”
“This mission. Ever since I came to the TeamWork camp, things have changed. I’ve changed. I’m saying things, and doing things,” she stammered, “that I’ve never done before.”
“Well, if you ask me, they’re only changes for the better. I mean, you’re opening up to us more now, making friends with the other workers, and really becoming a part of the group. That can only be a good thing, right?” Amy leaned her head briefly against Lexa’s shoulder, squeezing her arm as together they headed to the prearranged rendezvous spot to meet Winnie.
