by JoAnn Durgin
Closing the Bible, Lexa’s brow creased. Was God mad at her? Mad because she’d pushed Him out of her life for so long? She certainly didn’t hate Him, but she had so many unanswered questions. Why had He taken her mother away, leaving her with a father who couldn’t show his love for his only child? Maybe it wasn’t her place to question God’s purpose.
Perhaps Sam was right, and she was more like Jonah than she wanted to admit. When she’d asked Jesus into her heart, she wanted to belong to Him, wanted Him in her life. But then what did she do? She pushed him away for years, running in the opposite direction. Just like Jonah.
Winnie sat down quietly on the bed beside Lexa, holding a bottle of aloe. “You look like you could use some of this.” Her soft voice was as soothing as the gel Lexa needed on her neck, arms and every other part of her exposed to the sun at the worksite. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask what happened, sweetie. I just hate it that you’re going to really hurt tomorrow. Do you want me to help you rub in the gel?”
“I’d appreciate it. Thanks, Winnie.” Lexa looked at her with grateful eyes. The coolness of the gel eased the stinging of the sunburn, but Lexa knew it was fleeting. She winced as Winnie spread the gel over her arms. In the morning, she’d be left with a glaring reminder of her foolishness and resemble a crustacean. She had no one to blame but herself.
“You’re welcome. I’m going to leave the bottle here on the floor beside your bed. Use as much as you need. We’ve got lots around here.” Winnie climbed under the sheets of her bed. Pulling them up around her, she gave her a sweet smile.
“Good night.” Watching her, Lexa thought what a wonderful mother Winnie would make someday. She was so nurturing and kind to all the TeamWork volunteers. Earlier in the evening, she’d brought her a sandwich from the canteen supply, knowing she’d missed dinner.
Would there be a storm in her life one day like the one God sent to Jonah’s ship? One that brought her to her knees and forced her to make a decision whether to follow God’s will or reject it? She’d made a decision all those years ago, but choosing to follow His leading was another story now. In her heart, Lexa wanted to believe God cared about her. She needed Him to care about her.
Turning off the light anchored on the wall above her bed, Lexa vowed to read more in the Bible the next night. And the next. Before she fell asleep, Lexa wanted to try and pray. She might not say the right thing, and she might feel pretty stupid. Still, she wanted to try, and hoped the Almighty could hear her prayer. And so, she prayed.
~~**~~
Lexa awoke on her own the next morning without anyone tugging her out of bed. She caught Rebekah and Amy exchanging amused glances. Sheila kept her nose stuck in her Bible as usual, peering over the top at her every now and then.
“I hear you had yourself a little adventure yesterday.” Josh kept his voice low as he seated himself beside her at the breakfast table. He laughed under his breath when she stared at him.
“Don’t worry. No one else needs to know.” He leaned close. “Beck went to Sam when you went missing.”
A frown tugged the corners of her mouth. “Everyone probably has their suspicions. I honestly don’t know what possessed me. I was bored, and foolishly thought I could get a little work done. I suppose I was also rebelling against Sam’s rule of no work at the worksite on Sundays.”
Josh laughed. “Well, he wasn’t the first one to think of that particular rule. It’s also a commandment.”
“Give me a break, Josh,” she snapped, sounding more harsh than she intended. “We’re not kids here.”
Josh looked at her askance. “And you don’t like being told you can’t do something.”
Lexa blew out a sigh. “I certainly deserved that. Look, normally I play by the rules. I guess I decided to do my own thing for a change. And look where it got me.”
“So, you learned your lesson. Because you had something to prove.”
Lexa opened her mouth in protest, but faltered. The man might be young, but he was smart and intuitive.
Josh watched her with an odd look in those green eyes. His gaze traveled to her arms. “It looks like you got a painful sunburn, too. That must hurt.” He touched her arm, but withdrew his hand when he caught her warning glance. Even the brief touch left white finger marks on her arm. He murmured appropriate sympathies as she cringed.
After one of the men prayed for their breakfast, Josh turned to her with his most charming smile. “Care to walk to the worksite with me this morning, gorgeous?”
“I can’t,” Lexa told him with genuine regret. “I’m pledged to help out in the schoolroom today. Stop being so kind. I know I’m anything but attractive this morning.”
Josh looked straight into her eyes. “You’re a lovely woman, Lexa. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”
She tried to hide her surprise. Was Josh looking for more than friendship?
He watched as she took a bite of toast. “Maybe later this week you’ll lend a hand with the building, and we can work together again. I think we make a pretty good team.”
“As long as you promise to keep the pesky armadillos at bay.” Lexa laughed, but it rang hollow. This work camp was getting more interesting by the moment.
~~**~~
The one-room school was hot, cramped, and bustling with nearly thirty school age children ranging in age from about seven to thirteen. The children over thirteen were expected to help their parents and the volunteers with the building project. Lexa sat in a corner and watched as Rebekah led everyone in singing a few fun songs. Then she stood with the others as they recited the Pledge of Allegiance before they broke into smaller groups and separated into different corners of the room. Rebekah assigned Lexa to assist Natalie and Amy with the youngest group.
“Are we allowed to teach Bible stories?” Lexa whispered to Amy.
“Here.” Amy handed her a stack of papers, a box of crayons and some colorful stickers. Satisfied a few moments later that all of the children were busy coloring, Amy walked over to stand beside her. “We’ve got a mix of kids here. Some are them belong to the people whose homes are being rebuilt. Others are the children of migrant workers. To be honest, they’re lucky to get what little education we can offer them. But to answer your question, the parents are all made aware from the start that we’re going to teach Bible lessons and songs as well as the usual subjects.” She grinned. “Especially with Sam in charge.”
“I thought we were here to help rebuild homes destroyed by the floodwaters.”
Amy nodded. “It started out that way, but then Sam recognized the need for more than what was in the original plan. Especially since there’s so many kids, he expanded the operation to include this school. It’s a good way to keep them occupied so the parents can help in the rebuilding effort. The kids adapt well to the loose but structured learning environment here.” She leaned her head toward Rebekah. “Beck’s a big help since she’s training to be a teacher, and Natalie’s a kindergarten teacher.”
Pausing to answer a question, Amy turned back to Lexa. “Most of the younger group speak English. We primarily speak English here in the schoolroom to help build their vocabulary and communication skills.”
Lexa helped Natalie pass out papers a few minutes later. “Are those some of the mothers?” Lexa nodded her head toward a small group of women on folding chairs at the back of the room. They were respectful and quiet and watched their activities with interest. She smiled at one, but the woman lowered her head in a shy manner and looked away.
Natalie nodded and clapped to get the attention of a group of giggling children. “Right. The ones who are pregnant or can’t help at the worksite for whatever reason often come and visit.” She leaned closer. “Some of them benefit from the lessons, too.” After introducing Lexa to the group, Natalie began their lesson.
One little girl couldn’t take her eyes off Lexa the entire morning, and stared at her long braid. Amy told her the child’s name was Margarita. She was seven, but small for her age with big brown eyes that
threatened to swallow the rest of her pretty, delicate features. Dangly earrings swung from her ears every time she moved before getting lost in a mass of dark, wavy hair. Margarita’s multi-colored dress was old but clean, and she shuffled around in tennis shoes three times the size of her small feet.
“Do you like my hair?”
Margarita nodded and surprised Lexa by nudging aside her arm and scooting onto her lap. Laying her head against her chest, she closed her eyes.
Amy smiled. “She’s the youngest one in the group and gets tired about mid-morning. Just hold her. She gives good love.”
Lexa stroked her hair, so soft and silky. It seemed to give the girl a measure of comfort. She sighed and stuck a couple of fingers in her mouth. She listened as Lexa hummed a quiet song and nestled even closer. A warmth flooded through her, and Lexa’s arms tightened around the precious child. Margarita was so trusting, so innocent. God must have known they both needed a moment like this.
A short time later, Rebekah called everyone together and dismissed them for lunch following a short prayer. “We’ll meet here again at three o’clock and then go until five-thirty in order to get in the required number of hours per day,” she told Lexa. “Margarita’s really taken to you. She’s a very loving little girl. It’s a shame about her, though.”
“What do you mean?”
Rebekah looked around the room to make sure the children and mothers were all gone. “She has several older brothers and sisters. Two of them come here to the school, but they don’t pay her much attention.” A sadness surfaced in her green eyes. “Apparently, sweet little Margarita was an afterthought. The parents dote on the older children, but sadly neglect their youngest.”
Lexa sighed. “Attention is what she seems to crave right now. At least she was dressed neat enough.”
“Yes, today she looked pretty good. Other days, not so much.”
Lexa turned away so Rebekah wouldn’t glimpse her tears. She busied herself collecting stray crayons from the floor and straightening chairs around the long tables. Amy and Natalie worked together in another section of the schoolroom.
As the group walked back to the campsite for lunch, Lexa’s thoughts centered on the small girl. Such large, lonely eyes. She vowed to pay as much attention to Margarita as she could for the duration of the TeamWork camp. She understood the pain of loneliness, especially for a child, and wanted to somehow protect the little girl. Even for only a moment in time, she wanted to shield Margarita from the hurts caused by the world.
It was the same way she felt drawn to her quiet roommate, Sheila. Both seemed lonely and a little lost. Just like Lexa herself a short time ago. But now it was different. Something had changed.
Or could it be that she was changing?
~~**~~
After lunch, Sam summoned the seven newest members of the TeamWork crew into his office. Walking with the others, Lexa’s heart rate picked up speed at the thought of seeing Sam again.
“Come in!” Sam threw the door wide and smiled. His eyes settled on Lexa as she ducked beneath his arm on the way inside. She turned her head and tried to focus on what another girl was saying. The newest volunteers were each assigned to different dorms among the more seasoned crew. It was an effective way to help them get to know everyone better and ease into the camp routine.
For the better part of the next hour, Sam distributed various handouts listing the names of the others at the camp and the available assignments. He explained the camp procedures in more detail and answered their questions. Lexa leaned against a tall file cabinet in one corner, studying the paperwork and darting quick glances at Sam.
“You’ve already been here a couple of days and no doubt have a better idea where you’d most like to serve. Don’t feel pigeon-holed. If you wake up one morning and want to test your culinary skills and make peach cobbler, or help serve meals, I’m sure they can use you in the canteen. However, if you feel the urge to build something, we can use your help at the worksite. Of course, the children can always benefit from more willing volunteers in the schoolroom.”
“We have enough volunteers and positions to fill, so don’t worry about signing up on a list for any particular day. However, I reserve the right to move you around if we have a pressing need somewhere else. One of the perks of being the director,” he teased, and they all laughed.
“These things always have a way of working themselves out.” Sam paused, looking around the room. “I commend you all. I’ve noticed some of you trying out the various positions in the camp, and you’re doing a great job.”
Sam told them more about his expectations for the newest group of volunteers. “It’s not going to be easy.” His words echoed those of the interviewer in the TeamWork headquarters in Houston a few months before. “But it’s also very rewarding work.” Sam’s gaze encompassed those squeezed into his cramped office, missing no one. His eyes found hers.
Averting her gaze, Lexa stared blindly at the paper in her hands. Sam had a unique way of making each volunteer feel valued. He shared an easygoing camaraderie with the men that commanded their respect. But he also possessed the uncanny ability to see straight into a person’s soul. It was as wonderful as it was unnerving.
When he spoke next, the words were quiet. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your willingness to help this summer. We’ve got a terrific group of people. I trust when we leave at the end of the work camp, we’ll consider ourselves a family. Not just the family of Christ, but people who love and care for one another. Not because we feel we have to, but because we want to.” Sam nodded. “That, my friends, is what TeamWork is all about.”
Those assembled broke into spontaneous applause. The men slapped each other on the back as they filed out of the office, laughing and talking. The director stood at the door, shaking hands and answering a few lingering questions.
Hoping Sam might want a word alone with her, Lexa hung around until the others all departed. By this time, he was once again seated behind his desk, the glasses in place, busy reading some report or other. According to Rebekah, Sam’s intense concentration was legendary. That must be the case now, and she hoped he wasn’t purposely ignoring her. Not wanting to disturb him, feeling awkward, Lexa turned to go. A creaking floorboard alerted Sam to her presence as she crossed the office. Darting a glance in his direction, she saw him look up.
A slow grin spread across that way-too-handsome-for-his-own-good face. “Well, hello there, Lexa Clarke.” Those smile lines captivated.
“Hi.” She couldn’t help returning the infectious grin. From anyone else, it might irritate her that he kept calling her by both her first and last name. “I was wondering if your offer of dessert and the Riverwalk was still open.” Where she found the boldness to ask that question, Lexa didn’t know. But she had, so now she had to face the consequences.
Leaning back in his chair, Sam plopped his boot-covered feet on top of the desk and crossed his arms behind his head. The smile never left his face. “It sure is. We can go tonight during the bonfire time, if you’d like. Does that suit you?” His tone was flirtatious, teasing. Stinker.
“Fine. I think I can fit it into my busy social calendar.” Lexa sidled to the door, feeling as self-conscious as a tiny ballerina at her first dance recital. Sam watched as she moved across the room. Caught in a paradox, she both loved and hated it. Turning back to face him, she refused to give into the grin threatening the corners of her mouth. “Please stop staring. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?”
The glint of amusement shone in those incredible eyes. “I thought you rather liked it, Lexa.”
She liked the way he said her name. She liked his voice with its deep, native Texas drawl. She liked him. Sam possessed an inner strength and conviction she’d never known in any other man.
Lexa paused, one hand on the doorknob. “Sam, tell me something. Did yesterday really happen?”
He chuckled. Removing his glasses, he rose to his feet. “If you’re re
ferring to the armadillo incident, it most certainly did. I saw him, too. Like I said, you seem to have an uncanny knack for attracting all kinds of creatures.”
Lexa wondered if Sam included himself in that assessment. Judging by the look on his face, it was a fair assumption. Moving around the desk, Sam inched toward her, his steps slow, purposeful. Lexa’s heart quickened with every step of those dust-covered boots. “That’s not what I’m talking about it, and you know it.”
Sam loomed above Lexa, his eyes never leaving hers. “If you’re talking about the fact that you fell from the top beam of one of the houses and I came to your rescue—yes, it also happened, Miss Clarke. I actually have the beginnings of a few bruises to prove it. Wanna see?” he teased, starting to lift his shirt.
“Nope.” Lexa shook her head. Put that shirt back down.
Grasping her chin with a firm hand, Sam studied her face as though memorizing every detail. Thank goodness he didn’t feel the need to point out her obvious sunburn, a glaring reminder of her foolishness. His gaze swept from her eyes, down to her nose, and lingered on her mouth. Lexa’s breath caught in her throat, lost in his smile.
“Okay, then.” Sam leaned near, his face only an inch from hers. “If you’re talking about the fact that I kissed you, you’re absolutely, positively out of your mind. Raving lunatic. Never happened.” He released her, his grin entirely too smug.
“You!” Lexa cried, stomping out the door after first slamming it in Sam’s face. “And stop staring!” she yelled in mock disgust, laughing all the while as she scurried back across the campsite to the women’s dorm.
The TeamWork director’s laughter followed her all the way.
I could get used to this.
CHAPTER 12
Lexa shifted from one foot to the other. She waited for Sam in the dorm, as giddy as a shy teenager on a first date. It proved frustrating to choose something to wear considering her TeamWork wardrobe consisted primarily of shorts and coordinating tops or T-shirts. She finally chose a khaki skort since it was the closest thing she had to a real skirt, and topped it with her dressiest pale pink knit top.
