by JoAnn Durgin
Watching Sam talk about his work, his eyes alive with excitement, Lexa loved the resonance of his voice, adored the smile lines around his eyes and mouth, and simply loved being in the company of this honest, compassionate man.
“It’s refreshing to be with someone who feels things so deeply.”
He held her gaze. “There’s something else you have to know about me, Lexa.”
“What’s that?” Lexa forced a calm into her voice. She only prayed it would be good. This night was too special otherwise. She took a quick breath and waited.
CHAPTER 21
“I’m financially sound, but I’m frugal. I have to be, especially working with TeamWork every summer. I get a small stipend, but I’ll never get rich doing it.” Sam laughed. “You’ve seen the car I drive, after all.” Relief was etched into her expression. He wondered what she’d expected him to say.
“Earthly riches don’t bring happiness, love or forgiveness, Sam. They don’t give strength of character or conviction.”
He nodded, pleased by her sentiment. “I’ve done most of the talking. That wasn’t my intention. Tell me more about your family, your work, your hopes, your dreams.” He wanted her to feel comfortable enough with him to share such personal things.
“How much time do we have?” Lexa reached out and squeezed his hand. From the look on her face, Sam could tell she surprised herself by the instinctive reaction. Starting to remove her hand from his warm grasp, she smiled as he resisted and held on tight.
“You reached for my hand because you wanted to, Lexa. Leave it there. Please. It was a great instinct.”
“Well,” she began, taking a deep breath, “I was an only child. I was pretty spoiled. Rotten, I’m afraid. Bad to the core. Seriously, I think my mother would have given me the moon if I’d asked for it.” Lexa paused, and when she looked back up at him, tears shone in her eyes. “I wasn’t as close to my dad, but he loved me in his own gruff, quiet way.”
“What about your grandparents? Were they around much?”
She shook her head. “Only my grandmother on my mom’s side. The others died either before I was born or within a year or two. Nana was very special. Dad took me to her house most Saturday afternoons. She lived in Galveston. We did all sorts of fun things together—string pearls, paint by the numbers, read books together, watch movies, pick apples from the tree and make a pie . . .”
“Maybe that’s where your fondness for the apple began.”
Lexa smiled. “Maybe so. Nana had this little summer porch in-between the messy garage and the rest of her interesting house. But she didn’t care about the clutter. She cared more about investing herself in my life and spending time with me. I was her only grandchild. She taught me so much, and I cherished every minute with her. We’d sit out there on that summer porch for hours, talking and drinking iced tea. I loved riding with her in the car. Especially at Christmas, she told the best stories about Santa’s Toyland at the North Pole.”
Sam encouraged Lexa to share more memories of her family as they started back in the direction of the coffee house. He nodded, listened, and asked questions every now and then. Lexa’s eyes misted as she talked more about her mother and grandmother. Pausing outside the entrance to Maxie’s, Sam leaned back against the steel railing, listening. He loved the sound of her voice with her native drawl. He could listen to it forever. He’d heard her sing at the bonfire some nights, and her voice was clear and sweet, but surprisingly low, like her enchanting laugh. Their voices would probably blend well in a duet.
“Nana loved to tell me all about what she expected to find when she went to the happy hunting grounds.” Lexa’s laughter was quiet. “That was her term for heaven.”
“She must have loved you very much.”
“Yes, and I loved her with all my heart. She showed me in so many ways.”
“And your dad continued to take you to your grandmother’s house for weekend visits, even after . . .”
Lexa lowered her eyes. “Yes, even more so after Mom died. He didn’t know what to do with a little girl. It was easier to take me there and have Nana take care of me than try and figure out how to act like a real dad.”
Sam brushed her cheek with a whisper of a kiss. “I’m sorry, Lexa.” It made his heart hurt for the little girl she’d been with a father who couldn’t share his love. And he ached for her losing her mother so young. “Where’s Nana now?”
She smiled. “Wreaking havoc in the happy hunting grounds, most likely. I’m . . . I’m a lot like her.” When she reached to wipe away a stray tear, Sam gently moved her hand and kissed her. Breaking away, Lexa cried softly and then leaned against his shoulder.
“Sometimes I thought Nana loved me more than my father did, but now I realize it was an unfair comparison. My dad just didn’t know how to show love.” She let out a long, shuddering breath, and lowered her eyes. “I think Mom was tempted to leave Dad a few times.”
“Why?” It was major for Lexa to share something so personal with him. It revealed more than she’d ever know. She trusted him with her secrets. It was hard for her, letting him get this close. But she’d done it.
Lexa hesitated. “He wasn’t abusive or unfaithful that I know of, but he neglected her.” She shook her head. “Dad was a workaholic, dedicated to his job, and he put it before his family.”
Her slender shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It had to be lonely for my mom even though she never said much. She was the type to suffer in silence.” She paused, and Sam moved aside as a few patrons emerged from Maxie’s. The sounds from inside the coffee house—music, and voices mixed with kitchen noises—invaded the quiet of the evening.
“Your dad was a cop, right?” Taking her by the hand, Sam led her away from the door. He didn’t want their time together to end, but their time in town was all too quickly drawing to a close.
“Right.” Lexa released a prolonged sigh. “He prided himself on protecting and saving virtual strangers, yet he couldn’t see his own marriage dissolving in front of his eyes. He was blinded to it. I realize that sounds harsh, but it’s true. It’s like his identity was wrapped up in being a cop.”
He’d heard that was sometimes the case with public servants, but Sam didn’t voice that thought aloud. It would only serve to reinforce Lexa’s sadness. “Why do you think your mother stayed with him?” Maybe that was too personal, but she didn’t seem to mind.
Lexa looked at him through bright eyes. “Because she wasn’t a quitter. She was a fighter, and a strong Christian woman. She had no solid, valid reason for leaving him, so she stayed.” Her voice faded. “For better or worse, she simply . . . stayed.”
“And do you think she should have left?”
Lexa glanced down at their joined hands. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it from that perspective.” The sadness surfaced in her voice and her eyes when she looked up at him again.
“Was your dad a Christian?”
“I don’t think so. If he was, he certainly didn’t model Christ-like behavior around me.” He briefly wondered why Lexa brought the police union newsletter to the camp. Perhaps it was her unconscious way of staying connected to her dad.
“I’m afraid most of us fall short a lot of the time. It’s a tall order.” He squeezed her hand.
“You’re the strongest Christian man I’ve ever met. Sometimes, I sit in awe during the devotional time, wondering how you know so much, how you can get up there in front of everyone else and preach.”
“I’ve studied a lot, and for a while, I thought of going to seminary. Then I found TeamWork.” Sam shook his head. “I honestly don’t know how I could have gotten through some of the toughest times in my life without the love of Christ in my heart.”
~~**~~
One of those tough times in Sam’s life was when Shelby Hanson was killed in the tragic accident outside the TeamWork camp. It had to affect him in a profound way, being here in the same surroundings, with the memories of her and what they’d shared. S
hould she let him know Rebekah told her about Shelby, and that he’d been engaged? Not wanting to spoil the mood, Lexa decided against it. If Sam wanted to tell her, he would. But hopefully not tonight.
The air was still and calm as Sam walked Lexa back to her dorm a couple of hours later. The others had all returned to the camp and disbanded. He asked her to wait up for him, if she wasn’t too tired, so they could continue talking after he finished some paperwork. They’d enjoyed such a wonderful evening together, neither one wanted it to end.
After their time of shared conversation and getting to know one another, Sam was so much more than the handsome face, the smiling eyes, the teasing words. He was Sam Lewis—her friend, passionate mission worker, and a man after God’s own heart. And so, Lexa waited.
She sat on her bed reading, all the other girls asleep, when he knocked quietly on the screen door. Startled even though she expected him, she slipped out the door. “I must admit, I feel rather sneaky doing this.”
A slow grin upturned his lips. “Should I say good night here, then, and let you go back into the dorm?” Sam started to walk away. “Good night, beautiful girl.”
“Come with me, cowboy.” With a small smile, Lexa tugged him by the hand, leading the way to the lonesome tree on the west side of the camp. Behind her, she heard his soft laugh. Looking up at the moon, Lexa saw it was obscured by fuzzy-looking clouds.
“Maybe it’s finally going to rain tonight,” she mused, running her hands up and down her arms even though she wasn’t cold. Not in the least. “My dad always said fuzzy clouds over the moon mean rain is imminent.”
“Really?” Sam removed his hat and held it between his hands. Leaning against the tree, one knee propped, he watched her with a lazy grin. “What else did your father tell you?”
She’d heard about that kind of lazy grin. Coming from him, it started her heart pounding hard. Lexa leaned her head to one side. “Oh, he told me to be careful of a smooth man with a line for every pretty girl who comes down the pike.” She took a few small steps toward him, her eyes never leaving his face.
“And what else?” Sam prompted, still grinning. That deep voice was quiet as he hung his Stetson on a low-hanging branch. He pushed away from the tree and came closer.
The look on his face, combined with all the rest of the man, was doing untold things inside her. “Oh, let me think.” She grinned. “Things like don’t kiss a man until you’re sure you really, really like him.”
Taking another step closer, Sam reached out with one hand, lacing her fingers through his as if he’d never let go again. Ever. “And tell me, Miss Clarke, do you always follow your father’s advice?”
“Sometimes I do . . . and sometimes I don’t, Mr. Lewis.”
Walking his fingers slowly up her bare arm, his eyes never strayed from hers. Sam pulled Lexa to him. Gentle fingers pushed her hair behind one ear. He touched the side of her face with the back of his hand, gazing at her with a look of wonder.
Leaning his head toward hers, Sam stopped, his lips hovering in the same tantalizing way as before in his office. “And what would your father tell you to do now?” His whispered question was a sweet caress, gentle and husky.
“Shut up, please,” Lexa demanded, reaching up with one hand to pull his head down. “And I’m not about to apologize for saying that either.” Her fingers found the curls on the nape of his neck and smoothed them. Even with only the light from the stars overhead, Lexa saw those blue eyes deepen. His skin was warm, and Lexa trembled from his nearness. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating, captivating every sense and fiber of her being.
Her eyelashes fluttered against warm cheeks as she raised her lips to his—anticipating, wanting, needing Sam’s kiss.
He smiled as those lips drew even nearer, only a heartbeat away. “Definitely spicy,” Sam murmured, lowering his head as his hungry lips met hers.
CHAPTER 22
“Lexa, you told me it was nothing.” The door of the dorm slammed shut as Sam stormed in the middle of the women’s dorm. Removing his Stetson and tossing it on a nearby table, Sam’s hands found his hips. His eyes darted around the dorm.
“We’re alone. Why don’t you tell me what you’re talking about.” Sitting on her bed, Lexa put aside her notebook and looked up at him, dumbfounded. He was obviously in TeamWork director mode now.
“Can you please enlighten me about the scene at the open air market last Friday night? The one with Margarita?”
“I know which one.” Lexa scowled. “I hardly thought it was worth dredging up.”
“Well, maybe it was.” Sam pulled a chair across the room and sat down beside her bed. “I need to know what happened. It’s important.” At least his voice sounded less harsh.
Lexa blew out a heavy sigh. “All right. Margarita’s mother and a shop owner were engaged in a terrible shouting match, and she was caught in the middle. It was horrible, Sam. When she raised a hand to strike Margarita, I couldn’t just stand there and watch. I had to do something, had to take some kind of action to protect a defenseless little girl.”
“What did you do?”
“All I did was give that woman a piece of my mind. She’s neglected Margarita far too long. Someone needs to stand up for her rights.” Lexa turned blazing eyes upon him. “You can’t tell me it was wrong to defend her.”
“I’m not telling you that, Lexa. But you need to know that Mrs. Martinez has filed a formal complaint against you and TeamWork.”
“She what?” Lexa gasped.
“She feels you’re a bad influence on Margarita,” Sam told her, sounding too matter-of-fact for Lexa’s liking. “I understand there was also a piece of stolen pottery involved in this little incident in the market.”
Lexa stared. “Apparently, she did take it, but probably only to get attention, and that’s what I told her mother. There really wasn’t any harm done, and I hope Mrs. Martinez talked with Margarita about it. Having met her, though, she probably found an alternative way to talk to her daughter.” Lexa crossed her arms with a frown, “You should have seen her, Sam. She was awful.”
“Well,” Sam said slowly, “even if she was awful, we need to be careful. Mrs. Martinez is still Margarita’s mother. As representatives of TeamWork, we’re also representatives of the Lord. Everything we do is being watched by others, whether you realize it or not. We can’t afford to let our witness be tainted.”
“Well, excuse me for doing what I thought was noble, fair and right!” Lexa said through clenched teeth. “I don’t think the Lord is going to fault me for what I did. As a matter of fact, I think the Almighty might be downright proud of me!” Rising from the bed, she quickly crossed the room and put one hand on the door. If he dared invade her space like this, then she would have to be the one to leave.
Sam was right behind her. A firm, strong hand reached around her and closed the screen door, preventing her escape. “Don’t go running away from me again, Lexa. I’m not saying you didn’t do the right thing. I know you did what you thought was right, and I admire and applaud your wish to protect Margarita. What I’m saying is, there might be a price to pay, so to speak.”
“What do you mean?” Lexa whirled around to face Sam. “Are you telling me I might be fined . . . or that I might have to leave the camp?” Up until now, she hadn’t considered the possibility of being forced to pack up and leave. Was there such a thing as a TeamWork dropout or flunkie? She hated the sudden nervousness in her voice that betrayed her.
“You’re jumping to conclusions again. All that will happen is a written report. Hopefully, that will be the end of it. If it’s any consolation, these things don’t usually amount to much.”
Lexa looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I certainly hope it doesn’t happen often.”
His blue eyes met hers, softening. “No, it doesn’t.”
“And what’s involved with this report? Who writes the report?”
“I do, as director of the work camp and since you’re a volunteer under my directio
n. The report is based on my conversation with you, and a statement of the facts as you’ve told them to me. If you’d like to file your own version of what happened, you have every right.”
Lexa snorted and crossed her arms again. “Do I also have the right to remain silent? Are you going to tell me that anything I say may incriminate me and be used in a court of law, or whatever it is the police always say when they read the citizen’s rights speech?”
“You should know the answer to that one since your dad was the cop.”
Her eyes widened with the sting of hurt. Sam was right, though. As usual.
“You’re just about the feistiest woman I’ve ever met. And the prettiest, especially when you’re mad.” Sam leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on the end of her nose. “There’s one more small thing I hesitate to mention.”
“Oh, no. I should have known. Do I really want to know what it is?” She tamped down her irritation and stifled a low moan.
“It’s not that bad,” Sam assured her. “It’s only the small matter that your second weekend privilege might be revoked because of the marketplace incident, and uh, you’re sort of on probation for the next two weeks.”
Those last few words were rushed and mumbled, but she heard them just fine.
“The price I might have to pay,” she muttered, under her breath. “Hey, wait a minute.” Lexa’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Who made these rules and regulations, anyway?”
Sam avoided her gaze and grunted, retrieving his hat. “I think you know the answer to that one. I have a board who works with me, you know. It’s not like I decide these things all by myself, and they’re set in stone.”
“You mean you’re not really Moses and they’re not really the Ten Commandments?”
“No.” Sam laughed.
“Still, I was right,” she grumbled. “I’ve been drafted, and this is boot camp.” Sam’s attention turned to her bed where something peeked out from underneath her pillow.
