by JoAnn Durgin
Lexa looked at him through bright eyes. “Because she wasn’t a quitter. She was a fighter, and a strong Christian woman. She had no solid, valid reason for leaving him, so she stayed.” Her voice faded. “For better or worse, she simply . . . stayed.”
“And do you think she should have left?”
Lexa glanced down at their joined hands. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it from that perspective.” The sadness surfaced in her voice and her eyes when she looked up at him again.
“Was your dad a Christian?”
“I don’t think so. If he was, he certainly didn’t model Christ-like behavior around me.” He briefly wondered why Lexa brought the police union newsletter to the camp. Perhaps it was her unconscious way of staying connected to her dad.
“I’m afraid most of us fall short a lot of the time. It’s a tall order.” He squeezed her hand.
“You’re the strongest Christian man I’ve ever met. Sometimes, I sit in awe during the devotional time, wondering how you know so much, how you can get up there in front of everyone else and preach.”
“I’ve studied a lot, and for a while, I thought of going to seminary. Then I found TeamWork.” Sam shook his head. “I honestly don’t know how I could have gotten through some of the toughest times in my life without the love of Christ in my heart.”
~~**~~
One of those tough times in Sam’s life was when Shelby Hanson was killed in the tragic accident outside the TeamWork camp. It had to affect him in a profound way, being here in the same surroundings, with the memories of her and what they’d shared. Should she let him know Rebekah told her about Shelby, and that he’d been engaged? Not wanting to spoil the mood, Lexa decided against it. If Sam wanted to tell her, he would. But hopefully not tonight.
The air was still and calm as Sam walked Lexa back to her dorm a couple of hours later. The others had all returned to the camp and disbanded. He asked her to wait up for him, if she wasn’t too tired, so they could continue talking after he finished some paperwork. They’d enjoyed such a wonderful evening together, neither one wanted it to end.
After their time of shared conversation and getting to know one another, Sam was so much more than the handsome face, the smiling eyes, the teasing words. He was Sam Lewis—her friend, passionate mission worker, and a man after God’s own heart. And so, Lexa waited.
She sat on her bed reading, all the other girls asleep, when he knocked quietly on the screen door. Startled even though she expected him, she slipped out the door. “I must admit, I feel rather sneaky doing this.”
A slow grin upturned his lips. “Should I say good night here, then, and let you go back into the dorm?” Sam started to walk away. “Good night, beautiful girl.”
“Come with me, cowboy.” With a small smile, Lexa tugged him by the hand, leading the way to the lonesome tree on the west side of the camp. Behind her, she heard his soft laugh. Looking up at the moon, Lexa saw it was obscured by fuzzy-looking clouds.
“Maybe it’s finally going to rain tonight,” she mused, running her hands up and down her arms even though she wasn’t cold. Not in the least. “My dad always said fuzzy clouds over the moon mean rain is imminent.”
“Really?” Sam removed his hat and held it between his hands. Leaning against the tree, one knee propped, he watched her with a lazy grin. “What else did your father tell you?”
She’d heard about that kind of lazy grin. Coming from him, it started her heart pounding hard. Lexa leaned her head to one side. “Oh, he told me to be careful of a smooth man with a line for every pretty girl who comes down the pike.” She took a few small steps toward him, her eyes never leaving his face.
“And what else?” Sam prompted, still grinning. That deep voice was quiet as he hung his Stetson on a low-hanging branch. He pushed away from the tree and came closer.
The look on his face, combined with all the rest of the man, was doing untold things inside her. “Oh, let me think.” She grinned. “Things like don’t kiss a man until you’re sure you really, really like him.”
Taking another step closer, Sam reached out with one hand, lacing her fingers through his as if he’d never let go again. Ever. “And tell me, Miss Clarke, do you always follow your father’s advice?”
“Sometimes I do . . . and sometimes I don’t, Mr. Lewis.”
Walking his fingers slowly up her bare arm, his eyes never strayed from hers. Sam pulled Lexa to him. Gentle fingers pushed her hair behind one ear. He touched the side of her face with the back of his hand, gazing at her with a look of wonder.
Leaning his head toward hers, Sam stopped, his lips hovering in the same tantalizing way as before in his office. “And what would your father tell you to do now?” His whispered question was a sweet caress, gentle and husky.
“Shut up, please,” Lexa demanded, reaching up with one hand to pull his head down. “And I’m not about to apologize for saying that either.” Her fingers found the curls on the nape of his neck and smoothed them. Even with only the light from the stars overhead, Lexa saw those blue eyes deepen. His skin was warm, and Lexa trembled from his nearness. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating, captivating every sense and fiber of her being.
Her eyelashes fluttered against warm cheeks as she raised her lips to his—anticipating, wanting, needing Sam’s kiss.
He smiled as those lips drew even nearer, only a heartbeat away. “Definitely spicy,” Sam murmured, lowering his head as his hungry lips met hers.
Chapter 22
“Lexa, you told me it was nothing.” The door of the dorm slammed shut as Sam stormed in the middle of the women’s dorm. Removing his Stetson and tossing it on a nearby table, Sam’s hands found his hips. His eyes darted around the dorm.
“We’re alone. Why don’t you tell me what you’re talking about.” Sitting on her bed, Lexa put aside her notebook and looked up at him, dumbfounded. He was obviously in TeamWork director mode now.
“Can you please enlighten me about the scene at the open air market last Friday night? The one with Margarita?”
“I know which one.” Lexa scowled. “I hardly thought it was worth dredging up.”
“Well, maybe it was.” Sam pulled a chair across the room and sat down beside her bed. “I need to know what happened. It’s important.” At least his voice sounded less harsh.
Lexa blew out a heavy sigh. “All right. Margarita’s mother and a shop owner were engaged in a terrible shouting match, and she was caught in the middle. It was horrible, Sam. When she raised a hand to strike Margarita, I couldn’t just stand there and watch. I had to do something, had to take some kind of action to protect a defenseless little girl.”
“What did you do?”
“All I did was give that woman a piece of my mind. She’s neglected Margarita far too long. Someone needs to stand up for her rights.” Lexa turned blazing eyes upon him. “You can’t tell me it was wrong to defend her.”
“I’m not telling you that, Lexa. But you need to know that Mrs. Martinez has filed a formal complaint against you and TeamWork.”
“She what?” Lexa gasped.
“She feels you’re a bad influence on Margarita,” Sam told her, sounding too matter-of-fact for Lexa’s liking. “I understand there was also a piece of stolen pottery involved in this little incident in the market.”
Lexa stared. “Apparently, she did take it, but probably only to get attention, and that’s what I told her mother. There really wasn’t any harm done, and I hope Mrs. Martinez talked with Margarita about it. Having met her, though, she probably found an alternative way to talk to her daughter.” Lexa crossed her arms with a frown, “You should have seen her, Sam. She was awful.”
“Well,” Sam said slowly, “even if she was awful, we need to be careful. Mrs. Martinez is still Margarita’s mother. As representatives of TeamWork, we’re also representatives of the Lord. Everything we do is being watched by others, whether you realize it or not. We can’t afford to let our witness be tainted
.”
“Well, excuse me for doing what I thought was noble, fair and right!” Lexa said through clenched teeth. “I don’t think the Lord is going to fault me for what I did. As a matter of fact, I think the Almighty might be downright proud of me!” Rising from the bed, she quickly crossed the room and put one hand on the door. If he dared invade her space like this, then she would have to be the one to leave.
Sam was right behind her. A firm, strong hand reached around her and closed the screen door, preventing her escape. “Don’t go running away from me again, Lexa. I’m not saying you didn’t do the right thing. I know you did what you thought was right, and I admire and applaud your wish to protect Margarita. What I’m saying is, there might be a price to pay, so to speak.”
“What do you mean?” Lexa whirled around to face Sam. “Are you telling me I might be fined . . . or that I might have to leave the camp?” Up until now, she hadn’t considered the possibility of being forced to pack up and leave. Was there such a thing as a TeamWork dropout or flunkie? She hated the sudden nervousness in her voice that betrayed her.
“You’re jumping to conclusions again. All that will happen is a written report. Hopefully, that will be the end of it. If it’s any consolation, these things don’t usually amount to much.”
Lexa looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I certainly hope it doesn’t happen often.”
His blue eyes met hers, softening. “No, it doesn’t.”
“And what’s involved with this report? Who writes the report?”
“I do, as director of the work camp and since you’re a volunteer under my direction. The report is based on my conversation with you, and a statement of the facts as you’ve told them to me. If you’d like to file your own version of what happened, you have every right.”
Lexa snorted and crossed her arms again. “Do I also have the right to remain silent? Are you going to tell me that anything I say may incriminate me and be used in a court of law, or whatever it is the police always say when they read the citizen’s rights speech?”
“You should know the answer to that one since your dad was the cop.”
Her eyes widened with the sting of hurt. Sam was right, though. As usual.
“You’re just about the feistiest woman I’ve ever met. And the prettiest, especially when you’re mad.” Sam leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on the end of her nose. “There’s one more small thing I hesitate to mention.”
“Oh, no. I should have known. Do I really want to know what it is?” She tamped down her irritation and stifled a low moan.
“It’s not that bad,” Sam assured her. “It’s only the small matter that your second weekend privilege might be revoked because of the marketplace incident, and uh, you’re sort of on probation for the next two weeks.”
Those last few words were rushed and mumbled, but she heard them just fine.
“The price I might have to pay,” she muttered, under her breath. “Hey, wait a minute.” Lexa’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Who made these rules and regulations, anyway?”
Sam avoided her gaze and grunted, retrieving his hat. “I think you know the answer to that one. I have a board who works with me, you know. It’s not like I decide these things all by myself, and they’re set in stone.”
“You mean you’re not really Moses and they’re not really the Ten Commandments?”
“No.” Sam laughed.
“Still, I was right,” she grumbled. “I’ve been drafted, and this is boot camp.” Sam’s attention turned to her bed where something peeked out from underneath her pillow.
Oh, no. Lexa reached out to stop him, but it was too late. Following close behind, her cheeks grew warm with shame. She watched helplessly as Sam pulled out the corner of the romance novel. Lexa’s hands dropped to her sides, and she hung her head. She hadn’t been so humiliated since the whole incident when he’d rescued her from the thugs in San Antonio. And before that, there’d been the armadillo incident. She supposed she should be grateful to Sam since he must not have written her up for the offending incident of going out to the worksite by herself on only her second day in the TeamWork camp. What a fool she’d been. A few times over. But somehow, the man still seemed to like her.
Sam’s words brought her back to the present. “What do we have here?” He chuckled under his breath, and his eyes held thinly-veiled amusement. Considering the shirtless Sam look-alike on the cover, Lexa knew her cheeks must be positively flaming. Surely this moment qualified as the most humiliating incident.
“I’m not really reading it.” The protest sounded weak. It was a useless defense although true. After all, it was the same book she’d started since coming to the camp. Under normal circumstances, she would have been on a fourth or fifth romance novel by now. “Besides, my bed, my pillow, and certainly this book,” Lexa muttered, seizing it from his hands, “is my personal property, thank you very much. At least while I’m here in the TeamWork camp,” she stammered.
“But it is your book, right?”
“Just shoot me now.” Lexa buried her face in her hands.
Sam surprised her by laughing. “I won’t say a word except to say the guy on the front looks vaguely familiar. He has a rather ugly mug, wouldn’t you say?”
Lexa stared at him, not bothering to hide her surprise. “For the record, I bought that book a long time ago. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve spent a lot more time reading your Bible than this silly book.” Although he said nothing, Sam’s expression was far too smug. She blew out a quick breath. “Go ahead. Tell me. I’m sure you have an opinion you’re just dying to share.” She motioned with her hands. “Let me have it.”
Carrying the chair back across the room, Sam returned to where she once again sat on the edge of the bed. “Okay, but only since you asked.”
Lexa tilted her chin. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t really know much about those kinds of books except that they’re full of situations that should be reserved for a marriage relationship, if even that.”
He looked embarrassed, as though wondering why he’d voiced his opinion in the first place. Pulling Lexa quickly to her feet, Sam wrapped his hands securely around her waist. His slightly rough jaw brushed against her cheek as he leaned close. She loved his nearness, the smell of the outdoors resonating from him, the feel of those strong arms holding her, completely encircling her.
“I also know something else, Miss Clarke.” With his whispered words, Sam’s lips, soft and warm, brushed over her temple. “Real life is a whole lot more fun.”
With a final wave and a parting smile, Sam was gone. Watching him replace the Stetson on his way out the door, Lexa slumped back down to the bed, covering her head with the pillow to stifle her escaping moan.
Chapter 23
Lexa departed the bonfire early a few nights later, suffering a headache. Slipping into the darkness alone, she headed to the dorm. As soon as she entered the building, she sensed something amiss. Although she couldn’t put her finger on it, Lexa knew by instinct something wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right.
The only light came from moonlight streaming in through the window. Lexa fumbled her way over to the bed, her eyes adjusting to the dimness. Reaching for the small lamp on the wall above her bed, she paused, thinking she heard a muffled sound from Sheila’s corner of the room. Turning her head, Lexa strained to see.
“Sheila? Are you there?”
“Ye–ye–yes.” Her voice sounded different.
“Are you okay? You sound strange.” Lexa’s eyes opened wider as she heard more muffled sounds. A burly, dark-haired man dressed in black from head-to-toe darted across the room and out the screen door before Lexa had a chance to be afraid. He pushed the door with such force that it made a horrible cracking sound, ripping clean off its hinges.
“Sheila! Are you all right? Who was that?” Lexa demanded, waiting a few seconds until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Crossing the room, she dropped onto the bed beside Sheila.
&
nbsp; Discovering the other woman’s hands tied behind her back in a sloppy, loose knot, she took in a quick breath. “What’s going on here? I can tell that guy wasn’t a Boy Scout,” Lexa muttered, loosening the rope to free her hands.
Clutching her sore wrists, Sheila darted her a grateful look, tears shining in her dark eyes. “Th–that w–wa–was m–my hu–hu–husband.”
“Your husband?” Lexa had no idea Sheila was married. She’d never noticed a wedding ring, and Sheila never mentioned him. Witnessing the man firsthand, she could understand why he wasn’t a frequent topic of conversation.
“What’s going on?” Lexa repeated, catching her roommate’s eye. Lowering her voice, she smoothed the other woman’s messy hair away from her face. “You can trust me, Sheila. I want to help you.”
“I do–do–don’t . . . w–wa–want t–to . . . t–t–talk a–ab–about it.”
“You’re shaking like a leaf.” Lexa grabbed the soft, light blue blanket from the end of Sheila’s bed and tossed it around her shoulders. Putting her arms around her, Lexa rocked back and forth with her for a few minutes until the other girl’s shivering stopped. “You don’t have to talk about it now, if you don’t want to, but please know I’m here for you if you decide you need to confide in someone.” Lexa prayed Sheila would trust her enough to tell her the truth.
“D–do–don’t . . . t–t–tell any–anybo–anybody, L–L–Lexa. O–O–Okay ?”
Pleading eyes implored hers, and Lexa nodded with reluctance. Her instincts told her—as leader of the TeamWork camp—Sam should be notified. But she also didn’t want to get in the middle of another scandal that could get her kicked out of the mission. Including the armadillo offense, this could be counted as the third incident, even though the last two were circumstances beyond her control.
Why did these things keep happening to her? The Lord would have to answer that one. Just as she needed to help Margarita in the marketplace, she needed to protect Sheila now.
