by JoAnn Durgin
Watching them go, lost in thought, Amy waved from the doorway. When Sam asked if she wanted to tuck Joe into bed, she jumped at the chance. The little guy sat with her in the rocker, snuggling and burrowing into her. “But Jesus said, ‘Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to Me,’” she read from his toddler’s Bible, “‘for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.’” Her eyes filled with tears and she hugged the little boy close to her heart, stroking his dark waves—so like his father’s—and kissed the top of his head.
When a tear slipped down her cheek and landed on his hand, Joe—half groggy with sleep—touched her face, his big blue eyes searching hers, full of compassion well beyond his years.
“Oh, Joe,” she whispered against his warm, soft skin as she picked him up and lowered him into his crib, “you are so blessed, little guy.” Crossing her arms on the railing, she kissed her fingers and pressed them against his cheek as his eyes drifted closed. “So am I.”
Chapter 40
The next morning, Amy settled in a living room chair across from Sam, prepared to start the interview. The spark in those clear, piercing blue eyes clued her in. Time for a Papa Bear talk. Lexa was in the kitchen with Joe, and Amy smiled as she heard them singing together.
“So, first things first, Sam,” she said. “Landon’s your publisher?”
“Yes. He’s branching out into some different ventures and this is his first foray into book publishing.”
“Quite an ambitious foray, but I know he’s done a good job so far of marketing and promotion for you.”
Sam nodded. “He knows the business and he’s been great. Before we start the official interview, Amy, I want to talk with you. Off the record.”
Why am I not surprised? Leaning back in the chair, she balanced her notepad and pen on her lap, drumming her fingers. A sudden case of nerves assailed her, and she struggled to keep her breathing steady. Hard to do when her heart was pounding out of control. “Lexa told me he called you. Did he ask you to plead his case?” Sarcasm slipped into her tone and her shoulders slumped.
“Landon called me, yes, but he didn’t ask for anything more than for me to listen and pray with him. I’m going to tell you something I’d never share under normal circumstances. However, in your case, I think it’s warranted. I know Lexa already told you he’s been a part of TeamWork for a few years. What I’m about to tell you might help you better understand him.”
Amy straightened in her chair. “I’m listening.”
“Landon’s personally flown TeamWork board members and directors—me included—to conferences, to scout out camp locations here in the U.S., and to deliver relief food supplies to storm-ravaged areas. Josh has flown on his plane a couple of times in recent months, sometimes with Landon at the controls, sometimes not. From what I’ve seen, the man’s a confident, capable leader. He’s also recruited several other pilots to help us out, and I’m very indebted to his dedication to TeamWork and for sharing his many gifts and resources.” Sam settled his gaze on her. “Like you’ve poured a lot of your resources, including your money, into TeamWork and prefer to remain anonymous.”
Amy sat back in her chair, her thoughts swirling. “I had no idea, and I wish everyone would stop calling it my money. It’s my grandfather’s.”
“Earned by your grandfather, yes, but now you have control over where the funds he left to you are used. I’ve always admired you for your good business sense. You’ve got a solid sense of right and wrong, a strong work ethic and you love the Lord and put it into action. So does Landon. His relationship with his dad has a lot to do with the man he’s become. I’m not sure how much he told you, but his dad was a self-made, wealthy man who squandered it all and ran his own company into the ground, but not before he left his wife and only child—Landon—feeling as though they somehow weren’t worthy and didn’t measure up. That kind of destructive thinking can destroy a man’s psyche and self-esteem.”
Leaning forward in his chair, Sam fixed his gaze on her. “Some men would allow it to beat them down, but Landon took the opposite approach. He’s very protective of his mother and he’s made a great success of his life, in part to prove his worth to himself and to her. But he’s struggling in his relationship with his dad. As a Christian, he knows he needs to forgive, but he’s finding it difficult to do.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded. “He told me his dad’s in jail for fraud. He went to see his dad yesterday morning and that’s one reason why I was late coming to Houston.”
The lines of tension on Sam’s forehead eased. “Good. I knew it was something he’d been thinking of doing. When he can forgive his father for past transgressions—not just say the words, but in his heart—that’s where Landon’s going to find his peace.” Sam sat back in his chair. “In some ways, he doesn’t feel worthy of you and your love. It’s those old feelings returning to attack him. In the past, he’s protected his heart by not allowing himself to get too close to a woman. He was afraid a woman wouldn’t accept him because of his father being in prison. On the other hand, I think there’s been an underlying fear he might succumb to the same sin. When you thought he was someone else, he seized the opportunity to assume another identity for a couple of days, but trust me on this: the man with you on your trip to Austin would have been true to himself and his values. One of the reasons he didn’t want to come to Houston with you is because he was concerned you didn’t know he was my publisher—and you’d jump to the conclusion he wanted to beat you to the draw in interviewing me.”
“Call me a naïve innocent, but I never thought of it.” Amy’s eyes met Sam’s.
“You love him.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes welling again. “I do. Problem is, I don’t know what to do with his love.”
“Pray about it and give it time,” Sam said. “Know we’ll be praying right along with you. I have no doubt you’ll figure it out, but keep your heart open to the possibilities. We all make mistakes, including some of massive proportions. It’s part of our humanity, but it’s also our responsibility to forgive those who ask our forgiveness when we’ve been wronged.”
“Forgiveness is the easy part, Sam.”
His eyes met hers. “You don’t want to forget it, Amy. From what I know, you’ll take this experience and be all the stronger for it. I’m going to ask Lexa to come in and we’ll pray together, and then we’ll do the interview, but when you go back to New York, I’d ask you to pray for Landon, and especially his relationship with his father.”
“Of course, I’ll pray. Thank you for telling me all this, Sam.”
“Remember this, Amy: Hurt builds up walls, but love tears them down.”
~~**~~
Later that afternoon, Sam and Lexa drove her to the airport. She’d spent more than an hour with him during the interview and had a lot of great ideas for her article. Due on Friday morning, it didn’t leave her much time and she needed to buckle down and focus on it. In some ways, having the deadline was a very good thing. She’d be too busy writing and editing and wouldn’t have time to think about Landon or anything else if she wanted to keep her job.
Funny thing, though. Although she wasn’t sure what had changed, the last week had shown her life wasn’t about a job. A job could never give her the satisfaction she’d found in chasing a runaway dog and taking her back where she belonged. Or the rush of emotion she’d felt helping a misguided young waitress. Or the tenderness she’d glimpsed in a cowboy’s eyes when he danced with her, kissed her and held her like the most precious jewel.
Hurt builds up walls, but love tears them down. Sitting in her seat on the airplane, Amy pondered Sam’s words as the ground crew took their seats in preparation for takeoff. Her thoughts took her back to soaring high above Austin. Landon was right: it was a freedom she’d never before experienced. The much larger plane now gathered speed and left the Houston runway behind—taking her away from Texas and back to her life in Manhattan.
Resting her forehead against the w
indow, she whispered a prayer. Lord, I’m leaving a big part of my heart here. Help me find my way home. Help Landon, too, to draw closer to You and find his way home.
Chapter 41
Wednesday, December 18, 2002 —
Mid-Afternoon
Landon sat alone at a corner table of the small, quiet coffee shop, an open magazine beside him. He’d read the same paragraph five times. Rubbing a hand over his jaw, he grimaced. Besides not getting any sleep, he hadn’t bothered to shave and his clothes were rumpled. Dona and the rest of the staff mumbled around him, ducked their heads when he passed in the hall and stopped their hushed conversations. He thought he’d heard the name “Scrooge” when he passed by the reception desk. What a mess he was, but he’d hand out their Christmas bonus checks a few days early and that might help. They deserved better than his bad attitude for all their dedication and hard work.
The bell on the front door jingled. Wearing a determined expression, Mitch strolled toward him with a purpose, peeling off his gloves as he crossed the small shop. The firm line of his lips and set of Mitch’s jaw meant nothing good. He’d been expecting this visit from Amy’s brother, and the man obviously had more than a friendly chat on his mind.
“Hey, Mitch.” Standing, Landon extended his hand before being cut off by one hard blow to the right side of his face. Stunned, he staggered forward but managed to grab hold of the edge of the table. Righting himself, he clutched his jaw. “I assume that one was for Landon.” He turned his head and offered the opposite side. “Might as well take a swipe at Cooper. Go ahead. I deserve it. Make it count.”
Confusion crossed Mitch’s face and he dropped his hand. “I think that’ll do it. Unless you want a shiner to match.”
The shop manager started toward their table. “We don’t want any trouble here, guys.”
“Sorry, Pete.” Landon glanced at Mitch. “No trouble.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Mitch said, his voice resigned. “I’m done.”
Landon pointed to a chair. “Sit down so we can talk about this. Please.”
They stared at each other until Mitch relented. Landon pulled away his hand, relieved it hadn’t drawn blood. If he’d aimed for his nose, it’d be broken. “You pack a good wallop, my friend. You’re a worthy adversary and I appreciate your loyalty to Amy. If I had a sister, I’d do the same thing.”
“Thanks, I guess. I don’t know why I’m here considering what you did. I never expected you’d break her heart.” Those gray-green eyes, so like Amy’s, were on fire with righteous indignation. “Congratulations. I hope you’re proud of yourself. You managed to dupe one very smart woman. Why you did it, I have no idea, but it was a lousy thing to do to a great person. Maybe I gave you more credit than you deserve for being a decent guy.”
“Want something to drink?” Swallowing his frustration, Landon took another long sip of coffee bitter enough—even doctored with cream and sugar—to burn off his stomach lining. Disgusting thought, but fitting for his current mood.
Mitch shot him an incredulous look, one brow quirked. “This isn’t a social call, Warnick.”
Landon sat back in the chair, gathering his thoughts. “I take it she got back to New York safely?”
“She’s on a plane now. She called me last night and told me the whole sordid story.”
“What exactly did she tell you I did?”
Mitch met his gaze. “The way I understand it, you deceived and lied to her. Big time.”
“I did, but it was more a mistaken identity thing, at least at first. I freely admit my mistake in carrying it too far. The whole thing was based on a miscommunication and a strange set of circumstances, but I never intended to hurt her, Mitch. You have to know that.” He leaned forward, capturing the other man’s eye contact and holding it steady. “If nothing else, understand this: I’m in love with your sister. She’s the most compassionate, beautiful, generous, loving, infuriating, nutty, passionate, witty woman I’ve ever met. No woman has ever challenged me the way the way she does.”
“Yeah, well, you have a strange way of showing it.” With a look of disgust, Mitch raked one hand through his dark hair.
Landon slumped back in the chair and blew out his sigh. “I’ve apologized and asked her forgiveness. I pray in time she’ll be able to get past it and move on.”
“Seems to me your words got you in trouble,” Mitch said. “It might take more than words to get her back, if that’s what you want.” He waved a hand. “Start talking.”
As he began his story, Mitch listened, interrupting a few times to ask pointed questions worthy of a protective older brother. Excusing himself a half hour later, Mitch returned with a cup of coffee. “You want another one of whatever you’re having?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” The fact Mitch cared to ask was more than enough.
“Keep talking, then,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he sipped his black coffee.
Another ten minutes passed before Landon finished his story. “I can’t lose her.”
The other man drummed his fingers on the table and pushed aside his empty cup. “Sounds like it was quite the adventure. After hearing all that, it’s pretty obvious you love her. If our parents hadn’t met and married so fast—and had such a great marriage for a lot of years—I’d laugh in your face and tell you it’s impossible.”
“That’s because it hasn’t happened to you yet.”
“On the contrary. I’ve fallen in love lots of times. That’s my big stumbling block. I dangle my affection on the line and pretty much nip at the first bait thrown my way. Back to you and my sister: for one thing, if we lived like a hundred years ago, I’d insist you marry her since you compromised her reputation.”
“Nothing happened that shouldn’t have. If you believe my word means anything, you can trust me on that one. I’d marry her in a heartbeat if I thought she’d be agreeable, but I don’t think she’ll even talk with me face-to-face right now.”
Pinching his nose between two fingers, Mitch closed his eyes. “Okay, here’s the problem as I see it,” he said, his lids fluttering open, “Amy loves you, too.”
Landon swallowed hard and his heart raced. “Has she told you this?”
“Not in so many words, but I can read between the lines. Ever since she met you, she’s been more unfocused, scattered and forgetful. So, I guess the burning question here is: what do you plan to do about it?”
“I’d settle for a chance run-in with her at this point, but she’s not ready. I don’t want to embarrass her in front of her colleagues, not to mention her boss isn’t my biggest fan. What I need is to get myself right with the Lord and then get some things straight in my life. And then accept what, if anything, Amy’s willing to give me.”
“These things you need to get straight—like what?” Mitch asked. “I know that’s personal, but I have a burning need to know. Humor me.”
Landon cupped his hands around his coffee mug as he gathered his thoughts. “I’ve been struggling with my future at the magazine. The board’s headed in a direction I’m not willing to go.”
Concern furrowed Mitch’s brow. “I don’t understand. Aren’t you the one who started the magazine?”
“Yes, but I’m at the mercy of the ones bankrolling it. It’s like I birthed the baby, but now others are calling the shots in how to raise him. Basically, I’ve been told to take my magazine in a much more liberal direction with no mention of spirituality, faith or quote-unquote religion.” He sat back in the chair. “As a result, we’re in a deadlock, but I’m not backing down. Nor am I giving into their demands.”
“You know, Landon. Aside from this situation with my sister, you’re a decent guy. Yeah, you made a massive error in judgment or whatever you choose to call it, but after hearing you out, I can sort of understand. It’s good to hear it from your perspective. And in terms of the magazine, I admire your strong ethics.” He darted his gaze to the table and finished his coffee.
“Thanks. Coming from you, that’s high praise.”
“I’m resigning effective after the next issue hits the newsstands.” Giving up the reins of the magazine wasn’t a failure, but saying the words stung like nothing else ever had. The way he looked at it, it wasn’t selling out nor giving in to pressure, but standing up for what was right in God’s eyes. He’d prayed hard about it, knew it was the right course of action. No way could he continue to publish and edit the magazine by compromising his integrity and lowering his moral standards. Denying his faith. He wouldn’t be able to look himself in the eye. As much as anything else, it was a matter of self-respect.
Mitch’s shock was obvious. “I’m not sure what to say. I know New York Scene means everything to you.”
“You know, Mitch, before I met Amy, I would have agreed, but spending time with her has changed my perspective. Keeping my nose stuck to the editorial grind eighteen hours a day isn’t the way to spend my life. Where’s the value or reward in that? I want a wife, a family and love instead of waking up one morning as an old man with nothing or no one.” He leaned closer. “I need Amy beside me, and I hope I have your blessing.”
Mitch met his steady gaze. “I came for an apology and an explanation. I didn’t expect a proclamation of love, but why should I be surprised?”
“The truth?”
Mitch’s eyes widened. “Nothing but.”
He sat back. “If I stand at the door of Amy’s heart and knock and she doesn’t let me in, I’ll accept it. But it’ll be hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“I know I haven’t held up my end of the bargain with God lately,” Mitch said, “but I’ve been praying again. For you and Amy, believe it or not. Not that you should take credit for it. I want your word you’ll never lie to Amy or deceive her again.”
