by JoAnn Durgin
What’s that all about? Marc left the comment alone until a short while later when he strolled over to where Dean and Eliot stood together, talking in low tones. “So, this camp wasn’t planned months in advance?”
“No,” they said in unison, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“Tell me something, gentlemen.” A suspicion formed in Marc’s mind. “Exactly how long have you known about this particular TeamWork mission?”
They looked at one another, making it painfully clear neither one wanted to answer.
Marc moved closer, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s not really a hard question.”
Kevin approached, whistling. “Hey, guys. What’s going on?”
“I was asking Dean and Eliot how long they’ve known about this work camp. Care to answer the question for them? They seem struck by a sudden case of shyness . . . or else forgetfulness.”
“Uh, well,” Kevin said, the color draining from his face. Although not a man of many words, Kevin was generally much more articulate. When he glanced at the other two men, they shrugged and shot him helpless looks. Something was definitely afoot.
“Well, then, I’ll get the answer from our fearless leader. I don’t think Sam has either a shy or forgetful bone in his body. I think we’ve worked out the horses long enough, don’t you?” Silent nods. “Let’s round them up and take them back to the stables.”
As usual, Marc spotted Sam immediately. Unless the man’s head was bowed—in prayer or otherwise—he was never hard to find. As soon as possible, the other men hightailed it out of the stables. “Sam, a word, please?”
“Over here.” Sam motioned to him from the nearby stall. “Did you find Natalie?”
“Yes. We’re going to dinner tonight. I need to borrow a car, by the way.”
“Done.” He paused, studying him. “What’s on your mind? Spill it.”
“Something’s just come to my attention. Quite frankly, I’m not sure whether to deck you or hug you.”
Sam turned, his brows raised, a question in those narrowed eyes. “Care to explain that statement?” Hands finding his hips, he looked every bit the rugged cowboy.
“I understand this Montana mission wasn’t planned in advance. It’s something you cooked up, just a few weeks ago, as a matter of fact.” The latter statement was a guess, but Sam confirmed its accuracy by the expression crossing his face.
“True enough.” Sam started to walk away.
“Wait.” Marc placed a hand on his arm. “Why would you do something like that?”
The TeamWork leader turned. “It’s time to get a few things straight. Why shouldn’t I do whatever I can within my power to help Natalie? Why wouldn’t I do something to help you as a fellow brother in Christ?” Those intense eyes bore into him as Sam took a step closer. “Marc, you need to accept the fact that sometimes people help one another. Because that,” he said, moving even closer, staring him down, “is what Christians do. Stick around. This is TeamWork in so many ways. Trust me, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
Nice speech. “I obviously have a lot to learn when it comes to unselfish Christian love and the TeamWork family. They go hand-in-hand. I understand that now.” He looked at him with renewed admiration. “Tell me something. When I was with you in Houston, you didn’t answer my question about where this work camp would be because you didn’t know at the time. Right?”
Sam raised a brow. “Do you really need me to answer that question?”
Humbled, Marc swallowed hard. “How did you accomplish it in such a short time? Overnight? Arrange this camp, bring these people . . . ?”
Sam blew out a breath, looking into the distance before settling his gaze on him again. “I made a few select calls when you were in Houston that first night. I’d heard the Tuckers lost some of their workers for the season. They’ve been so instrumental to TeamWork through the years, and they put out an appeal. When you called and told us your story, and then came to Houston, I figured this was the Lord’s answer. I made a few more calls to round up the troops,” he said, waving his arm around the stables, “and here we are.” Sam cracked a grin. “Don’t think a Texas boy, born and raised, would purposely choose to come here in the freezing cold of his own volition. My TeamWork volunteers all love Natalie, and they didn’t hesitate to drop everything at a moment’s notice once they knew the circumstances behind the request.”
The man was really getting fired up now. Marc took an instinctive step backward.
“Look,” Sam said, hands on his hips again, feet spread apart, “I’m sorry if that offends you in some way, but get used to it. If it’s macho pride, or a bruised ego working against you, let it go. Just accept the fact that we’re all here for you. I told you we want to help, and this is where the Lord brought us.” Dropping his hands to his sides, he leaned in so close they were almost nose-to-nose. “Accept it, brother.”
Marc nodded, stunned speechless before finding his voice. “I accept it with undying gratitude, Sam. You and your TeamWork crew have given us an unbelievably unselfish gift.”
Sam nodded, and the beginnings of a grin slanted his lips. “Good. About time. Now, I need some help, if you’re willing.”
“Thought you’d never ask.” As the two men walked over to another stall, Marc shot his friend a grateful glance. “I’m glad we’re here. From your lips to God’s ear.”
Sam handed him a full bucket of oats. “Oh, I’m sure God’s listening. Just make sure you stop long enough, and listen hard enough, to hear what He’s whispering. That’s the key.”
That was enough to shut him up, and they worked in silence as they tended to the horses in separate areas of the stables. Humility didn’t begin to cover how grateful he should be to Sam, Lexa and these wonderful people. Marc lowered his head and murmured a quiet prayer, keeping one eye on the horse in the stall.
~~**~~
“Sam, how do you and Lexa do it?” Marc asked a short time later.
“Do what, exactly?” Sam rotated his shoulders before hanging his steel bucket on a nearby peg, falling into step beside him as they headed out of the stables together.
With all the cold, their muscles would tense up if they didn’t keep moving, so he followed Sam’s example, rotating and stretching to get out the kinks. “How do you keep your marriage so . . . fresh?”
Sam laughed. “That’s a loaded question. It takes work, but after all, we’re still sort of newlyweds ourselves.” He pulled the collar of his jacket tighter about his neck and pushed the Stetson further down on his head, covering his ears as the bitter wind blasted them full in the face. “Come with me.”
Marc chuckled under his breath. Subzero temperatures aside, heaven forbid a man from Texas would wear anything on his head other than a Stetson. Hastening his pace beside Sam, he darted a quick glance at the darkening gray sky as they made their way to the small office adjacent to the main house. Crossing the grounds, they nodded and waved to a few of the ranch hands.
Opening the door, Sam held it open and quickly ushered him inside. “Have a seat.” Rubbing his hands together, he flipped the switch on the space heater near the desk.
“Yes, Captain.” Marc dropped into the chair opposite the desk, relieved for the warmth inside the small, sparsely-furnished office. Shivering, he ran his hands up and down his arms.
Reaching into the middle drawer, Sam pulled out a set of keys and handed them across the desk. “Take the Pathfinder tonight. It has a full tank of gas.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.” Marc pocketed the keys.
“You owe me nothing. Now, you asked a question. Don’t let us fool you, Marc. We have our moments. Lexa can dish it out as good as she gets, but that woman is smart. She’s passionate about the Lord, she’s fierce in her determination to do His work, and she’s relentless in expressing her passion for me. There’s nothing more I could ever ask from a wife and a solid, Christian partner.”
The look on his face was intriguing. “To be honest, before the Lord brought Lexa into my
TeamWork camp, I always thought I wanted a woman like your wife, one who’d been a Christian for a long time. But the Lord knew better. Her mother died when she was eight, and long story short, she was left on the doorstep of her faith, raised by a gruff father who wanted nothing to do with the things of the Lord.”
“Well, thanks for not pursuing my wife, although I can’t imagine why you didn’t.”
Sam returned his grin. “I’ve always been partial to blondes. Opposites attract, as proven by you and Natalie. Of course, God’s providence has everything to do with it. When the Lord brought Lexa to my TeamWork camp, I learned how to look at faith through her eyes, and she taught me more than she knows. She was young in her faith, but so willing to grow and serve Him. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed.”
Marc leaned back in the chair. “Natalie’s taught me a lot, too, but I’m not sure how much I’m teaching her. That’s why I need to hear your pearls of wisdom.” He motioned with one hand. “Carry on, oh wise one.”
Sam shot him a look. “The Lord knows Natalie needs you, just as I need Lexa. Now,” he said, scooting his chair closer to the desk, “I have a few personal marriage rules. I’ve never shared them with anyone else, and I think you could benefit from them now.” He shrugged. “They’re pretty much common sense, but it doesn’t hurt to be reminded.”
“You’ve got my attention.”
Sam’s deep smile lines surfaced and the faint lines around his eyes crinkled. “Listen carefully, and maybe you’ll learn something.”
Chapter 27
“Okay, here goes,” Sam said. “As trite as it sounds, never let the sun go down without resolving any differences between the two of you. It was impossible to master that one with Lexa before marriage, but after, when we were sleeping in the same bed, it was much easier. If there are cross words, work it out. Pray about it, talk it out, fight it out, but do whatever you have to do to resolve it before you go to bed. Makes things infinitely easier, believe me.” Sam paused and lowered his voice. “I know that’s difficult with the way things are between you and Natalie right now, but do the best you can. You’re doing it later tonight by going to dinner with her. Don’t expect miracles, but keep praying.”
“Right. Please go on,” Marc said, sitting up straighter, eager to hear the rest.
“Rule number two. Always be honest with your partner, as long as it’s not something that will hurt or wound her. If you feel it’s something she needs to know, tell her. Don’t hold back. Pray about it, and go with your gut. I’m not talking about commenting on what she’s wearing. I’m talking about letting her into your heart, your soul, sharing your emotions and what you’re feeling.”
Marc nodded. “And number three?”
Sam grinned and straightened in the chair. “Always think of her needs first—emotional, physical or whatever. Pay close attention. Really listen if she opens up and wants to talk. Help her out around the house. Offer to help or do the grocery shopping, watch the kids down the line when you have a whole brood of them.” Sam grinned as he shot him a look. “This is also where the ‘in sickness and in health’ part of the marriage vows come into play. Pregnancy is tough under normal circumstances, but do whatever you can to ease her discomfort.” He waited a moment before continuing when Marc made no comment. “Obviously, if she’s ill, do what you can to ease her pain or discomfort. Bring her food and cook it yourself. Bring her medicine, run to the store, rub her feet. You accomplish this one by putting your love into action, by demonstrating the love you have for her in physical, tangible ways.”
“This is great stuff, Sam. Common sense or not, you should write it down. You’d probably make a bestseller out of it. Guys need to hear it, and women would buy the book and make sure their men read it.” He grinned at the surprised look on Sam’s face. “Any more rules?”
Sam’s wide smile indicated he was just getting started. “I also have scripture verses that accompany each of these rules. I’ll write them down and give them to you later. Okay, rule number four. Tell your partner on a daily basis how much she means to you, how much you love her. It takes more than merely showing her. Women need the verbalization of our love more than men do. Say the words, ‘I love you’ every single day, and mean it.” He paused. “Bored yet?”
“Not a bit. Carry on.”
“Next rule. Be the head of your own household, but respect your wife as your equal in all things. Actually, this one should be at the top of the list since it comes first in my own mind.” Sam leaned forward, making sure he had his complete attention. “A woman can’t respect a man who doesn’t take charge of his own household. A Christian woman expects the man to be the leader of the home, both physically and spiritually. We have the God-given right and responsibility to take care of our wives and families and put them before ourselves. There’s no question as to God’s commands in that regard, Marc. We are to honor and respect our wives as our equals while still being strong and decisive in all things, as much as humanly possible. And, part of this rule is to pray both independently as well as together, on a daily basis.”
Sam sat back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. “Rule six. Guard your heart, your eyes, your mind and your soul, brother. This one is tough for most men. We have to keep our focus on what’s right and pure in God’s eyes and turn away from all temptation, no matter the source. Temptation is everywhere. The lines between right and wrong get blurred, and sin takes root and festers. Rationalizations are made to excuse unacceptable behavior. When push comes to shove, so many make the wrong choice, even Christian men. We have to always be on guard and alert.”
Marc nodded. How well he knew the truth of that one firsthand. “There’s one more rule?”
“Yes, and this one is every bit as important as all the rest. You need a place where the two of you can slip away to be alone. A secret rendezvous place, a place with no distractions, and no one else to take your attention away from your partner. For however long you need, a few hours or a few days. Focus on your wife. Listen to her, talk with her, share your thoughts, your hopes, your heart. Basically, follow all of the above rules. And then, you love her.” Sam stopped, making sure he had his eye contact. “Pick your own, private definition of what that means, but take the time to love her.”
The man made a lot of sense. “Do you and Lexa have a place here in Montana?”
A smile played about Sam’s lips. “Yes, as a matter of fact.” Following where he pointed, Marc spied a small, brass skeleton key hanging on a hook behind the desk. “Ever since Lexa and I married, I’ve scouted a location for our place as diligently as I’ve scouted the TeamWork work camps. I always rent or borrow a little cabin, or find a tent, hut, cave, tepee, sleeping bag—whatever’s available.” He paused, catching Marc’s wide grin. “A place where I can take my wife away from everything and everyone else.” A wistful expression crossed Sam’s face. “Before we married, there was this pitiful tree on the west side of the camp in San Antonio. Lexa and I would meet out there late at night and share quiet time. Again, it’s all about opening your heart and being totally honest with your partner.”
“So, if you and Lexa disappear together, I shouldn’t ask questions. I have to hand it to you, you’re a very wise man. I do believe you’re also the most romantic soul I’ve ever met.”
Sam’s laugh was deep and hearty. “I’m pretty much a romantic fool, but don’t let it get around. I have a reputation as TeamWork leader to uphold. It’ll be our secret. But, between you and me, I’ll accept it as the highest form of compliment.”
“Thank you. I’m really glad you, Lexa and the other TeamWork volunteers are here. Like I said, it’s a true gift.” He extended his hand as they both rose to their feet. Grasping Marc’s hand, Sam pulled him across the desk in a big bear hug.
“Anytime, brother.” Sam released him, and Marc grunted. Nothing like tearing up in front of another guy, but he wasn’t surprised when he saw tears in Sam’s eyes as he turned to go.
&nb
sp; “Marc?”
Something in Sam’s tone turned him back around. “Yes?”
Sam nodded his head toward the wall. “If you ever want to borrow that key, it’s yours for the asking.”
Heading out the door, renewed hope filled his heart. First, he had to get through dinner with Natalie.
Chapter 28
By Boston standards, the restaurant left something to be desired, but it boasted decent food and a nice atmosphere. Gazing across the table at Natalie, Marc made small talk, mostly about the ranch and their work. Neither one of them ate much of their dinner and pushed the food around their plates before giving up altogether. The uneasy stirring in the pit of his stomach grew increasingly persistent the longer they sat. He couldn’t wait to escape so they could talk privately.
“Now that we’re done with that awkward dinner, care to tell me what’s on your mind?” Natalie shivered and ran her hands up and down her arms as they sat in the car outside the restaurant a short time later. Marc blasted the heat, chastising himself for his lack of foresight in warming the car like he usually did back home in Massachusetts. The frigid temperatures must have frozen his brain cells.
“I’m sorry.” Shifting position, he still couldn’t bring himself to look Natalie in the eye, knowing what he had to tell her might crush her. He couldn’t bear to see the look in her eyes, but he knew Sam was right. If he didn’t tell her, never again would he be able to fully love her the way she deserved, and the way he needed to be loved by her without pretense or anything standing between them. That second rule of Sam’s about total honesty was a hard in a situation like this.
Marc struggled for the right words. He prayed his wife could find it in her heart to forgive him. Hoped she’d understand his motivation was to protect her, not keep anything from her that would eventually hurt her. Hurt them. Of course, most would call it cowardice.
Natalie breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly. “Marc, just tell me whatever it is so I can deal with it.”
