by JoAnn Durgin
“Two can play this game!” Lexa spouted through clenched teeth. She hopped out of the car again before Sam could put it back in gear. “See you back at the camp, Bucko!” Slamming the door equally hard, she stalked away from him, headed back this time in the direction of the Riverwalk.
Watching her in the rearview mirror, Sam noticed her steps slowed a few hundred yards down the street. When she turned, he shifted the car in reverse. It skidded backward in her direction and stopped beside where she stood in the middle of the quiet street. The car rumbled, sputtered and threatened to die right then and there.
Her hands traveled to those tiny hips in a firm stance of battle, David to his Goliath. “In spite of your best intentions, you can’t single-handedly save the world, Sam Lewis. Some battles aren’t yours to be won.”
He inhaled a quick breath and raked his fingers through his hair. Frustration with Lexa Clarke was going to turn him mental. “And if you’d stop being so defensive all the time, maybe you’d actually learn something.” He pinned her down with his eyes this time. “Some battles are worth the fight, Lexa. Even if they’re an uphill climb. Just get in the car. Please.” He struggled but kept his voice low and controlled.
“I’ll be fine on my own, thank you very much.” No tremors, no fear now. Just that stubborn defiance.
“Okay, fine,” Sam said, his voice tight with frustration.
He could tell he shocked her when her eyes widened. The corners of her mouth tugged downward.
“Suit yourself. See you later, sweetheart!” He sped off into the night.
~~**~~
She didn’t think he’d really leave. Now what had she done? Standing in the middle of the street and gaping wasn’t going to help her situation. Her foot tapped a steady rhythm. Seeing the tail lights of the station wagon still visible in the distance, Lexa felt like screaming Sam’s name and begging him to come back for her. Would he really leave her out here by herself, defenseless in the night, in an unfamiliar city?
A group of teenagers hanging out in a nearby driveway called out to her. Oh, this night just kept getting better. She ignored them and headed back in the direction of the Riverwalk. Even though they called out indecent proposals, she forced her steps to be confident. She was only a few blocks away from more civilization. But they were following her.
The boys laughed as she picked up her pace and kept walking. Their voices grew louder. She heard their footsteps and knew they were right behind her. Fear seized her. Inhaling a deep breath, she somehow moved her feet forward. Where was Sam? The man saved her from an armadillo, but where was he when she really needed him? Granted, he’d also saved her from serious bodily harm when she fell from that rooftop. But now would be an opportune time for the tall cowboy’s chivalrous ways.
“Hey, pretty lady. What’s a great lookin’ woman like you doin’ in a place like this? Need a date, sweetheart? Lookin’ for a man?” A kid who couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen shot around to one side of Lexa, close enough to smell alcohol on his breath. She shrank back, not daring to look him in the face. The group of boys hemmed her in.
She was trapped, and her heart thundered. It was a mistake to look a potential attacker in the eye. Her eyes unseeing, she fought to keep her breathing even. Don’t let them see your fear. God, please help me!
“Leave me alone,” Lexa managed to get out between tight, clenched jaws. “My ride will be here in just a minute.” She hoped it sounded convincing, but it fell flat. The knuckles clutching her purse were white. Maybe if she threw it down on the pavement, they’d grab it and leave her alone. Replacing lost documents would be a pain, but it was preferable to being raped . . . or worse.
Maybe they only wanted to scare her, but she couldn’t take any chances. Twinges of regret squeezed her. She should have enrolled in that self-defense class with her co-workers a few months ago. Too late now. It would still be five against one on this dark, deserted San Antonio street. As if she had a chance. That thought started her heart pounding even harder.
“Sure thing, honey. We’ll leave you alone once we’re done with you. You look real sweet. We just want you to play nice with us for a while.” Rivers of fear ran through Lexa at that statement. She stared straight ahead and focused on a distant tree.
Another boy ran one finger along the length of her bare arm, leaving a path of shivers in his wake. Lexa flinched and jerked her arm away from his touch. They were only boys, but they were also men in the physical sense with an appetite for women. Her mind was numb, her legs unsteady.
In that moment, she vowed to give Sam Lewis a good piece of her mind . . . and more . . . if she survived this ordeal. She pushed aside the thought that he’d gone so far as to manhandle her in order to put her back in his old bomb of a car. So, the blame was hers alone. Again. But first things first.
“I think she’s feisty, boys.” The first boy inched closer.
Please don’t let me faint. Where’s Sam? Everything within her wanted to curse and scream his name. Curse him for leaving her on this deserted street, and scream for him to come and save her. Yes, Lexa Clarke wanted to be saved. By Sam Lewis. If God Himself wasn’t going to help her out of this mess, then maybe He’d send His messenger.
CHAPTER 15
Remorse mixed with ebbing anger flooded his soul as Sam drove around the block at a low speed and tried to regain control. Never had a woman so attracted and infuriated him at the same time. Why couldn’t Lexa get in the car without protest? Once in the car, why couldn’t she stay put? Why did she always have to be so combative? Chewing on his lower lip, Sam decided to let her stew a couple more minutes before going back to get her. Only a heel would leave her unprotected. She just needed to learn a lesson.
It was pretty clear she was sticking to the street and should only be a little further down than she was a few minutes ago. Switching off the headlights again and turning the corner, Sam’s heart stopped at the sight. Lexa was standing in the middle of the street, surrounded by a gang of teenage boys.
Oh, no. His foot slammed into the floorboard as the station wagon sputtered a little and roared down the street. “This should be good.” He halted the car with a rumble near the group and hauled himself out of the car and rose to his full height—slowly, for the effect of it all. Six-foot-five didn’t faze them. Okay, time to employ the swagger. Hands on his hips, Sam stalked in their direction. The boys didn’t scatter and stood their ground. So, they wanted to play tough.
Lexa’s eyes widened as she looked up at him, but not before Sam glimpsed her obvious relief. She might not say it, but the woman was grateful. All he wanted to do was pull her close and tell her all was okay with the world. Punks. He’d show them.
Sam glared down on the group. Being so tall came in handy sometimes, and no more so than when saving a damsel in distress. Not that he didn’t think Lexa couldn’t take care of these kids all on her own by virtue of sheer stubbornness. But that didn’t change the fact that she could use his help now. She needed him even though she’d probably never admit it.
“Is there a problem, boys?”
“We’re just talkin’ to her. Buzz off, jerk.”
Sam’s jaw tightened and his fists clenched. He never liked fighting, but he’d do it, if needed. As much as anything else, Lexa was one of his TeamWork volunteers and needed help. He’d do it for any one of them—although most wouldn’t find themselves in a similar situation.
“I’m going to ask you nicely to leave. You’re not going to get another chance.” Strolling toward the instigator, Sam poked a long finger into the middle of his chest. “You don’t want to mess with me. You can trust me on that one.”
The spokesman punk snorted. “Yeah, right. Dirty Harry’s here to save the world.” He motioned with one hand for the others to follow. “Relax. We’re leaving. If I were you, though,” he called back over his shoulder, “I’d watch out for my woman a little better. She shouldn’t be walkin’ out here all by herself, if you know what I mean. Things can happen
to a woman like that in this part of town.” His leering stare raked Lexa up and down in an invasive manner.
Even under the cover of darkness, Sam saw the slow flush of color creeping into her cheeks. No doubt it ran all the way down to her toes. Lexa swayed, and her knees started to buckle.
“Whoa!” He rushed to her side and swept her into his arms. She couldn’t weigh much more than a hundred pounds.
“Shall we try this again?” This was ridiculous, standing in the middle of the deserted street, holding the most defiant woman he’d ever met. And the prettiest. One hand splayed against his chest like out at the worksite. Her eyes searched his for the briefest of seconds before she snatched her hand away as though touching a burning flame.
The urge to kiss her seized Sam all over again. At the moment, she looked small, vulnerable. Don’t do it. Talk about a flame. That little voice inside him warned he might get his face slapped if he dared press his lips to hers. He restrained himself. It wasn’t the time. From the cradle of his arms, Lexa’s expression was dazed, indecipherable. Feeling her tremble, he tightened his hold.
“For once, I honestly don’t know what to say.”
That was difficult to believe. The woman could probably engage a mime in animated conversation. “Yeah, well, thank you might be a good place to start.” With her still in his arms, Sam marched over to the car. It surprised him that she didn’t squirm to escape his hold, didn’t move. Those warm, small hands of hers inched around his neck, burning a path the entire way. Lord help him now.
“Can you stand up on your own long enough to get in?” His voice was gruff, but he couldn’t help himself. He avoided looking at those full lips in case they pouted and wore down his defenses even more. It wouldn’t be a hard thing to do at this point. Irritant or not, the woman entranced him.
Lexa nodded. “I think so.”
“Good.” Depositing her on the ground, Sam opened the car door. When she stood there for a moment, still not moving, he grunted. “Look, you’d better get in if you’re going to because I don’t know how much longer this old car is going to last. No more games, no more anger.” His voice was thick with exhaustion. They’d both had enough.
Hopping in, she sniffled, slamming the car door before he could reach it.
“I’m getting a sense of déjà vu, Miss Clarke. I do believe trouble follows you.” Sam was beginning to think he’d need to take out an individual liability policy on her alone while she was on this TeamWork assignment. Climbing back into the car, he closed his door, being careful not to slam it. He hoped she’d get the point. Grabbing a lightweight jacket off the backseat, he handed it to her. “Here. Put this on. You’re shaking, and I suspect it’s not from the temperature.”
Lexa accepted the jacket without looking over at him and tugged it around her slender shoulders. “I didn’t need you and your big old white horse to come rescue me, you know.” Her voice was quiet, and she didn’t sound so combative now. Her hands twisted together where they rested on her lap.
The muscles in his jaws flexed as he stared with blind eyes out the front window. “Yes, you did, and you know it. And don’t call me Bucko. It’s Sam. Just Sam.” He made sure her seatbelt was on before starting the car and pulling out. He was scared to think what might have happened if he’d arrived on the scene another minute or two later. A shudder ran through him at the thought.
They drove in silence for a few miles. The car was too noisy for conversation, anyway, and sounded like a roaring lion in stark contrast to the stillness of the night.
“Thanks for not leaving me out there all alone.”
When he looked over at Lexa in surprise, Sam couldn’t believe it. Her shoulders were shaking. Was she crying? Pulling the car over to the side of the road, he watched, stunned into silence. Lexa’s sobs were quiet, unlike anything he’d ever seen or heard. At least she wasn’t wailing like some kind of wounded animal.
Sam didn’t like the feeling of helplessness invading his senses. He didn’t know what she wanted from him, wasn’t sure how to comfort her. If he’d learned anything, Lexa wasn’t like most women. Short of beating on his chest with both fists and shouting a Neanderthal mating cry, Sam wanted to shelter her from the hurts of the outside world. With all the mixed signals he got from her, he didn’t know what to think anymore.
“I don’t cry often,” Lexa sobbed, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Those tissues sure were coming in handy on this TeamWork mission.
“Maybe you should try it more.” That suggestion must not have been the right thing to say, judging by her glare. He blew out a sigh. Coping with crying women was an acquired art. He wanted—he needed—to somehow ease her fear.
“Please don’t cry, Lexa. It makes me hurt to see you cry.” That must have been better since she looked up at him so fast it made his heart jumpstart in his chest.
“That’s quite possibly the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Sniffling, she dabbed daintily at her nose.
Sam rotated his sore shoulder and leaned back against the seat. “It’s okay to admit you were scared. I’m not afraid of some young punks, but it scares me to think what could have happened. And don’t go thinking I’m so sweet. That wouldn’t be so great for my reputation, for one thing. You’ve only known me a few days.”
When he glimpsed new tears welling in her eyes, Sam leaned closer, letting Lexa give him the cues she needed. She didn’t disappoint. Scooting closer, she leaned toward him. Without hesitation, Sam bundled her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. Holding her this close was better than nice. Underneath all the defiance, Lexa Clarke needed comfort. Security. It was his prayer she’d find it in a growing relationship with the Lord. And maybe with him. Only the Lord held the answer, but she sure fit nicely in the curve of his arms. Interesting.
Her shoulders rocked with more quiet sobs. Bless her heart, those kids scared her more than he’d known. With one hand, he smoothed her long hair and patted her shoulder a few times. Although a bit awkward, the gesture appeared to give her a measure of comfort.
At least Lexa didn’t swat his hand away, and didn’t seem to find his actions inappropriate. Sam tried to keep his touch gentle but innocuous. He wondered how he’d comfort his youngest sister, Caty, if something similar happened to her. The acute awareness this wasn’t his sister bordered on painful. This was Lexa, a woman to whom he was drawn with each passing moment, his every breath.
For once, Sam understood what it meant to get a woman under his skin. With all the conflicted feelings churning inside, he could pen a country song. Perhaps he should—sell it for royalties and pour the money into TeamWork. Maybe get another used Volvo out of the deal.
How long they sat there, he couldn’t be sure. Waiting until her sobs quieted, Sam pulled back, his gaze melding into hers. The sides of his thumbs brushed gentle arcs over damp cheeks. Lexa’s gaze swept back and forth over his face. He liked seeing her like this, soft and feminine. Vulnerable. Sweet.
“You don’t always have to be so tough, Lexa.”
She nodded. “I’ve been doing it too long.”
“Since you were eight?” It was a guess, but her look told him everything. As much as he wanted to keep this woman at a safe distance, it seemed she was always doing something to get his attention or force him to take some kind of action. For the second time in as many minutes, Sam wondered what God’s plan was in all of this. He also knew it would be revealed sooner or later. He was grateful Lexa was safe. But, for now, he had to get moving or else he’d kiss her again.
“It’s getting late. We’d better head back to the camp.” Extracting his arm from around her shoulders, Sam turned over the engine. At least it started. If it hadn’t, he might have released a shout borne of sheer frustration.
Driving along the quiet road a few minutes later, Sam stole a glance her way. Her shoulders were swallowed by his jacket, and she pulled it tighter about her, snuggling into it. Slumping down further in the seat, Lexa’s arms crossed over her midsecti
on.
“You’ve got to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” Lexa stared out the window. “I thought you promised not to talk.”
“You’ve got to stop crossing your arms like that. It’s hostile body language. I thought we were making some headway with that. Until tonight.”
Lexa sniffed. “Maybe you should think about what prompts me to do such a thing in the first place, Mr. Lewis.”
From her tone, Sam could tell she was teasing this time. Then again, maybe she was half-serious. He hoped for the telltale upturn of her lovely mouth, but it wasn’t there.
“Oh, trust me, Miss Clarke, you’ve given me plenty to think about tonight.”
“Good.” Lexa sank even further down in the seat, but not until first uncrossing her arms.
CHAPTER 16
With a start, Lexa awoke a week after her date with Sam in San Antonio. Willing herself to go back to sleep, she tossed and turned for the better part of an hour. Her lips curved in a smile as she remembered her outrage when Sam’s big, warm hands gripped the backs of her legs as he put her in the car. While humiliating, it was not unlike a scene she might read in one of her silly romance novels. Still, let him think what he wanted. She wasn’t giving in that easy.
While not purposely avoiding Sam, she needed to sort out her feelings. She didn’t measure up to his ideal of the perfect Christian woman. She was embarrassed she needed Sam to rescue her. Ashamed he’d seen her so vulnerable when she cried. But loved it when Sam swept her up in his arms like some kind of brave romantic hero. Adored it when he pulled her in his arms and comforted her.
Then Lexa remembered how he told her how her tears made him hurt. That statement alone revealed uncommon sensitivity and compassion. His gruff manner masked inner emotions the same as defensiveness masked hers. Oh yes, they were a lot alike.
Sitting up on the bed, Lexa’s eyes strayed to Sam’s Bible on the end of her bed. She cherished her time alone each day to read new passages. The highlighted portions—and the notes in the margins—were insightful when she could make out his tiny, precise handwriting. She’d also taken the Bible to the bonfire the first few times, but found it too difficult to see. That’s why Sam always read the passages of scripture aloud and encouraged his TeamWork volunteers to read them later.
