Summer Dreams

by Delia Latham

  “What happened?” Summer whispered.

  With a worried frown, Deah shook her head and stepped down the hall toward the kitchen.

  Logan and Summer followed.

  “Coffee?” Deah poised a full pot over a mug and raised a pair of eyebrows plucked so thin that their color was difficult to make out.

  Logan nodded, having decided the anemic eyebrows were auburn, a shade or two darker than Deah’s hair.

  Summer shook her head. “Deah! What happened to Miss Angie?”

  “She sprained her ankle.”

  “Oh.” A series of emotions played across Summer’s face. “Why are you with her? I thought you were leaving right behind me.”

  Deah shrugged. “I was. You hadn’t been gone more than fifteen minutes when I heard Miss Angie cry out. I found her in her flowerbed out front. She’d caught her foot on that low railing around the garden area, and…well, that’s all it took.”

  “Did you call a doctor? How do you know it’s just a sprain? She may have broken it.” The strain in Summer’s voice surprised Logan. No longer than she’d been here, she obviously cared a great deal for the lodge hostess.

  Deah rolled her eyes. “Miss Angie wouldn’t hear of it. She insisted she’d be fine if I’d just help her to get inside. I couldn’t, not by myself, but Russ helped me.”

  “Russ? Who’s Russ?”

  Logan frowned. He wouldn’t have thought Summer possessed a snippy bone in her body, but her patience was clearly running out.

  “Easy, honey.” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, hoping to calm her. “Russ Amundsen is a friend who comes every couple of weeks to take care of the lawn and pretty much everything except the flowerbed out front. That’s Miss Angie’s domain.” He addressed Deah. “So Russ was able to help you get her inside. What then?”

  “Her foot and ankle were really swollen at first, but…” A shadow darkened Deah’s puzzled gaze. “Miss Angie was right. The swelling started going down as soon as we got her inside and settled on the sofa. It still doesn’t look normal, but it’s much more so than it was at first.”

  “Maybe I should take a look at it.” Logan set his mug on the counter. “If it’s broken, it’ll have to be set.”

  “It isn’t broken.” Deah planted both hands on her hips and glared. “I’m not totally without common sense, you two. Miss Angie insisted Russ get home to his daughter. After he left, I told her I intended to call the paramedics whether she wanted me to or not. She was absolutely adamant that I not do that, but she gave me a phone number and said if I insisted on calling someone, to call Luke. Apparently she has friends in high places. Dr. Luke Masterson gave me orders to keep his patient off her feet until he got here—which he did in under a half hour.” She gave an indelicate snort. “I didn’t know house calls were an option anymore. What kind of doctor does that?”

  Logan chuckled. “Luke’s kind. He’s a local doctor who volunteers down at the teen shelter and he’s pretty fond of Miss Angie—as is everyone who knows her, of course.”

  A little smile played around Deah’s lips, and Logan executed a sardonic mental eye roll. The girl had most likely found out the good doctor had no wife or girlfriend before he ever got a look at the injured woman.

  He grimaced when a twinge of conscience lashed his heart in swift follow-up. He was being hard on Summer’s cousin without reason. Yeah, she was wild and crazy—just like Lynn. She was overly forward to an extent he considered brazen—just like Lynn. But Logan wasn’t God. He didn’t know Deah’s heart, had no idea what drove her to be the way she was…and he certainly didn’t know what had transpired between her and Luke. He was transferring all of his wayward little sister’s attributes to the young woman without real cause. Well…other than her suggestive move on him when they first met.

  Summer touched his arm, her brows knit.

  He must’ve zoned out for a moment or two. He cleared his throat. “So what did Luke say?”

  “That Miss Angie sprained her ankle.” She shot Logan and Summer a disgruntled frown. “Like I already told you guys. He said she should stay off it for a few days and asked if she had anyone who could stay here and take care of her.”

  “Does she?” Summer directed the question to Logan, who shrugged.

  “Yes, she does,” Deah supplied. “She has me.”

  “You?”

  “I didn’t stutter.” The girl huffed out an impatient breath and rolled her eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of helping with whatever Miss Angie needs while she’s down.”

  “But, Deah, you’re—”

  “I’m what? Not a nurse? Luke said she doesn’t need a nurse, just a friend. I can be that for her.” For a moment, something almost fierce peeked from the girl’s up-tilted eyes. “I want to.”

  Summer shook her head. “What did Miss Angie say about that?”

  “She was so sweet and very grateful. You know, I think she needs a friend.”

  Logan opened his mouth to say Miss Angie didn’t lack people who loved her, but something stopped him before the words could be spoken. To his relief, a familiar voice caught their attention, calling from the living room.

  “Do I hear voices in there?”

  Deah rushed to the door, shoving past Logan and Summer in her hurry to respond.

  Logan bit back a chuckle. Was she afraid one of them would reach Miss Angie first? He held out a hand to Summer, who took it absently.

  “I don’t understand,” she murmured.

  “Don’t try.” He winked and tugged her toward the other room. “When Miss Angie is around, the oddest things happen. That’s just the way it always is.”

  In the living room, the woman had pulled herself up a little, and Deah hovered over her, busily plumping pillows behind her back.

  “It’s Summer and Logan, Miss Angie.”

  “Of course it is!” The woman smiled as they crossed to her side. “Did you young folks enjoy your evening?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but…I’m so sorry we weren’t here when you needed help.” Summer seemed genuinely distraught.

  “Well, now, don’t give that another thought. Deah has taken wonderful care of me. I couldn’t have asked for better assistance if I’d been able to order it beforehand.”

  “I didn’t do anything special.” Deah’s deprecating words accompanied a look Logan could only describe as adoring, fixed on Miss Angie.

  “I’ll be the judge of that. And Summer, dear, I hope you don’t mind that your roommate will be staying with me for a few days.”

  “Of course not! I’ll be happy to help, as well.”

  “That’s very kind, but I’m sure this sweet child and I will be fine on our own, won’t we?” She raised snow white brows in Deah’s direction, and the girl nodded, her gaze bright with something that hadn’t been there even five minutes ago.

  “Sure we will, Miss Angie.”

  Summer blinked and fixed a disbelieving gaze on her cousin.

  Logan bit back a burst of laughter.

  Miss Angie had a reputation for making things happen in strange, unusual, and unexpected ways. She was at it again.

  ****

  Summer wrapped both hands around a mug of hot tea, still in a bit of shock over the way the evening had played out.

  She’d said good night to Deah and Miss Angie. Logan walked her up the stairs to her apartment, where he gave her a kiss that left her breathless, and then promptly took his leave. He seemed to find nothing unusual about Miss Angie’s choice of caregiver—nor in Deah’s unbelievably strong desire to be there for the woman whom she’d barely spoken to until tonight…but then, Logan didn’t know Deah.

  Summer did, and her cousin had never gone out of her way to help another human being in her entire short life. She lived to please one person and one person only. Herself. So why was she suddenly fighting for the chance to take care of a sweet, elderly woman who would be severely handicapped for at least a week, possibly longer, given her age? What did Deah think she would gain from devoting herse
lf to an undertaking that was bound to grow tiring before it was over?

  Summer pulled a lightweight afghan around her shoulders with one hand and then sipped from her mug, relishing the flavor. Miss Angie had insisted on Deah finding the container of her special tea leaves and sending a bag home with Summer, who remembered the unusual taste of the brew. The lodge hostess had given her a cup of this same tea to help warm and relax her the day Logan had pulled her from the ocean.

  Distracted for the moment from her attempt to see into Deah’s mind, Summer stared into the pale liquid, wondering what secret ingredient Miss Angie added to the leaves. Whatever it was, it tasted amazing. But more than the taste, its effect was some kind of relaxation miracle.

  Whatever the other girl’s reason for developing a caring heart and willing hands—both of which would most likely prove temporary, anyway—Summer couldn’t control it. Miss Angie, more than anyone else she’d ever known, was capable of taking care of herself—even with a bum ankle. Besides, God had the sweet woman’s back, and whatever Deah’s underhanded scheme might be, she didn’t stand a chance against Him.

  Summer had other things to think about. Things like beautiful sunsets and romantic evenings at the ocean’s edge. Things like mind-blowing, heart-hammering kisses, and a handsome, gentlemanly, too-perfect-to-be-true artist who didn’t seem to mind that she’d given herself completely to worship while on a date. A man who wasn’t afraid to weep before the Lord or to raise his own hands in praise. A man who understood that all of it—her, their date, the ocean, the sunset—was about God, about His glory and wonder.

  Her head relaxed against the back of the sofa. She closed her eyes, and her lips curved into a soft, dreamy, sleepy smile. She had a lot of things to consider, and Deah wasn’t one of them.

  10

  On the way to church the next morning, comfortably ensconced in Logan’s car, Summer sat in contemplative silence. With the night behind her, she felt a little more inclined to question Deah’s motives. She’d risen early and hurried outside to spend a few minutes with Freckle and to put out his liquid meal—which hadn’t yet seemed to affect him adversely, despite her initial concerns.

  Had she not promised to attend service with Logan, she might have hung out with her little friend all day. It would have been an excuse to be nearby, where she could keep an eye on her cousin. Deah’s out-of-character behavior concerned Summer, especially with Miss Angie in the line of fire if her cousin had some underhanded scheme in mind.

  But Logan had been so excited about taking her to meet his pastor and a couple of friends at the church. He’d promised a tour of Chrysalis, as well—the local teen shelter operated by Cambria House of Praise. The teen outreach was still new to the village, and Logan said the community had embraced it with open arms, to the surprise of almost everyone involved.

  The new wife of Logan’s friend, Declan Keller, had been instrumental in getting the place going. Although he himself had admittedly done only a little toward making the shelter a reality, Logan supported Chrysalis whole-heartedly, and wanted Summer to see what it was all about.

  In the face of his enthusiasm, she’d been unable to bring herself to disappoint him by staying home. But her mind insisted on running down a half dozen rabbit trails of possibility, and imagining unfavorable scenarios at the end of each.

  Logan reached across the seat, took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let go and let God, Summer.”

  She blinked, startled. A wave of warmth flooded her cheeks when she realized she’d been so caught up in her own concerns she’d forgotten where she was. “Oh, Logan…I’m sorry. I’ve been rude.” She angled to face him. “I probably should’ve stayed home. I can’t stop thinking about what she’s up to.”

  “Deah?”

  She nodded, unwilling to go into detail about her cousin’s usual, less-than-admirable behavior, which Logan hadn’t witnessed last night. Deah wasn’t her favorite person, but she did care about her and had no desire to paint her in a negative light.

  “Let me ask you something. Do you believe God is bigger than Deah?”

  “Of course He is.”

  “Good.” He grinned and winked, clearly trying to lighten her mood. “First question answered correctly. Here’s the next one. Do you believe Miss Angie is a friend of God?”

  She hesitated, struck by his terminology.

  A friend of God.

  What an amazing, mind-bending concept. And yet…yes, if anyone in this world was a friend of Christ, Miss Angie certainly was.

  “Yes.” She whispered the word, still caught up in the magnitude of the phrase.

  A friend of God.

  “Two for two.” Logan chuckled. “You’re doing great. Now, here’s the kicker. If God is bigger than Deah, and if He is Miss Angie’s Friend, then seriously…what could you do back there at the lodge that He can’t take care of all by Himself?”

  Summer’s mouth dropped open and she pulled in a sharp breath before snapping it closed. Logan seemed intent on opening her eyes to new possibilities.

  He waited, one thick brow stealing up under the unruly piece of golden brown hair that fell over his forehead despite his constant attempts to brush it back.

  At last she shook her head. “Nothing at all. God is well able to take care of Miss Angie—and Deah—without any help from me.”

  “Three for three! You’re on a roll, kiddo.” Logan grinned, but then he sobered. He steered the car into a slot in front of a small church, turned off the engine, and then ran a finger down Summer’s jawline, sending shivers clear through to her soul. “So now that you’ve admitted God’s capability, why not let go of the problem, and let Him handle it in His way? Don’t miss the blessing that could be waiting inside those doors because you can’t let God be God.”

  “Thank you, Logan. I don’t know how you got to be so wise, but I’m glad. I needed that.”

  He laughed. “Come on, let’s go in before I say anything else. Now that you think I’m wise and all-knowing, I’d hate to open my mouth and convince you otherwise.”

  Summer gave him a bright, clear smile.

  He took her hand as they walked across the parking lot and into the church.

  Barely inside the door, Summer was cradled in a near-physical cloud of love. It wafted through the small sanctuary in waves that saturated her heart and soul, and it was in every handshake and each smile from the friendly parishioners. By the time the pastor stepped behind the podium and called the service to order, Summer’s eyes burned with an emotional, teary response.

  As if he sensed what she felt, Logan took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze without looking her way.

  Summer drank in the atmosphere like a thirsty sponge. She loved it all. The music, while not perfect and probably not award-winning, demonstrated unexpected talent for such a small group. They sang from the heart and elicited in Summer a desire to worship in the best way she knew how. She was too shy to praise dance in front of all these people she didn’t know, but her feet insisted on a few subtle moves she hoped no one but God noticed.

  Simple, sincere testimonies from various members of the congregation whetted her desire to praise. God’s goodness never ceased to amaze her, and His mercies truly were new every morning.

  Pastor Merckle brought a sermon that spoke to her heart. If she hadn’t already been glad she was there, his message on “We Needy People” would have changed her mind.

  “Being needy seems to have taken on a rather derogatory connotation. But think about it folks…while it’s not a good thing to be overly dependent on other human beings if we don’t have good reason to be, everybody needs to be needed sometime.” The tall minister sipped from a glass of water and allowed his gaze to wander the room, seeming to settle on each person individually in a brief moment.

  He couldn’t possibly have done that, but Summer certainly felt he’d connected with her.

  “I don’t profess to be a man of King Solomon’s wisdom—not by a long shot. But I’ve been a minis
ter for a while, and I’ve dealt with a decent number of people. Based solely on what I’ve learned from that—without even referencing the Bible, for the moment—I will say this. You show me a person who feels worthless and has no purpose in life, and I’ll show you a person who doesn’t feel needed. Give that person someone or something to care for outside himself—an animal, a child, a parent…someone with a need he or she can fill and be appreciated for, and I guarantee that individual will become a new person. Why? Because feeling important to someone else, knowing you make a difference in this world in somebody’s eyes—that’s a life changer, one we all need, even if we don’t realize it.”

  Summer’s eyes widened as the pastor’s words opened a new possibility for Deah’s behavior…one Summer would have never thought to consider. Was it possible…?

  “Well, this is supposed to be a sermon, after all, so I really should bring the Word of God into this little spiel, shouldn’t I?” A low murmur of laughter followed the minister’s words, and he laughed along with the congregation.

  Summer loved the easy, informal nature of the man’s interaction with the church.

  “Let’s turn to 1 Corinthians chapter twelve.”

  A rustle of turning pages filled the room, Logan’s Bible joining the quiet flutter.

  Summer’s familiar, worn one lay on the seat beside her, but she was happy to look on with Logan.

  “Anyone who’s remotely familiar with the Bible knows this chapter is all about the church as the body of Christ. You and me, the musicians, the Sunday School teachers, the janitors, the choir leaders…yeah, all of us. We each have a special gift to contribute. It may be a small, silent part that few people notice, or it may be one everyone sees and hears and knows about. But according to Paul’s teachings, no gift is more or less important than another. They’re all necessary to each other. Each part is needed by every other part.” He slipped on a pair of reading glasses and looked down at his Bible, then raised his gaze to the congregation again. “Let’s read one verse, and then I want to tell a story. You all up for a story?”