by JoAnn Durgin
“No. It’s only written up here,” Sam answered, pointing to his head. They looked at each other, knowing the other was thinking the same thing. Sheila might have taken the money, and used Josh to do it, knowing of his weakness with women.
“Oh, Sam,” Lexa muttered, hanging her head, “I don’t want to think such things about anyone.”
“Sheila probably panicked and didn’t know what else to do,” Sam told her, opening his arms and drawing her to him. “A woman in desperate straits like Sheila might have slept with someone to get what she wanted. She probably didn’t have anyone to turn to, and knew she could get her hands on some extra cash from the safe by cozying up to Josh.”
“I don’t think Sheila’s a thief, but it makes no sense otherwise.”
“I know, baby. I know,” he told her, leaning his head against hers. “This is why I want you beside me.”
Baby. Lexa always thought the term derogatory, used by a rough-cut kind of guy who clenched a cigarette between his lips, cursed frequently and sported a tattoo of a naked woman on his arm. But coming from Sam, she adored it.
Focus, Lexa. Raising her head, she met his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Sam said, his voice quiet, cupping her face between his two strong hands, his thumbs making sensual circles on her cheeks. “I mean,” he repeated softly, “I love you, Lexa Clarke. I want you beside me, talking things through, helping me make decisions and determining what course of action to take. There are so many times when I make the wrong choice about something because I’m quick-tempered and impulsive . . .”
What?” he asked, laughing as she looked at him as though he was crazy.
“Would you mind repeating what you just said?” Lexa nearly choked on the words. The words she’d been waiting to hear.
“You mean the part about being impulsive . . .” Sam stopped when she playfully swatted him. “I said I love you, Lexa. Madly. Completely. Forever.” Drawing her closer into the welcoming circle of his arms, Sam’s tender, inviting mouth claimed hers again and again as he deepened their kisses.
“What are we going to do?” In this man’s arms was where she belonged. She never wanted to leave.
“I don’t know.” Still holding her, he graced her with a glance so loving it warmed her all over. “You could start by returning the favor.”
She smiled. “I love you too, but I can’t ask you to give up your dream.” Lexa stood on tiptoe to kiss the place where those incredible smile lines deepened. She loved that spot, and gently traced it with a soft finger.
“And I can’t ask you to give up your life in Houston.” He looked lost and forlorn, like a little boy who’d lost his way home. “It’ll work out, Lexa,” he assured her. “I don’t know all the details yet, but it will. Like I said, a year’s not the end of the world and . . .” his voice faded. They stood together in quiet silence for a long time, wrapped in one another’s arms.
Oh, love does funny things to a person. Lexa couldn’t help but wonder why, when she’d found the love of her life, he had to globetrot across the world. Sam had given his heart first to the Lord and then to her. It wasn’t a competition, it wasn’t a choice. It was a clear case of Sam Lewis following the Lord’s leading in his life.
Lexa knew she had to let him go. What is it they say about the butterfly? Set it free, and if it comes back to you, it’ll be yours forever. She’d hold Sam’s heart forever, and he hers, but she had to let him follow his dream first. Then they’d have the rest of their lives together.
“Sam?”
“Hmm?” he asked absently, still holding her a short time later, the comfort of his arms warming her, making her heart sing.
“I’ll wait, you know. I never had any doubt.”
“I know, Miss Clarke.” Lexa’s heart swelled so fast she thought it might burst. “I never had any doubt, either.”
CHAPTER 39
“I’ve got it!” Lexa sat bolt upright in bed. Flinging aside the sheets, she wiggled out of her nightgown and tugged on her shorts before pulling on her bra and cotton top as fast as possible. Her hair was tousled from sleep, but she didn’t have time for grooming.
Lexa shoved her feet into her tennis shoes and bolted out the door of the dorm, sprinting to Sam’s quarters across the camp. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on her shirt as she ran. She didn’t know what time it was, but it must be sometime in the wee hours of the morning, judging by the position of the bright moon in the sky.
At first, Lexa knocked gently on Sam’s bedroom door. “Come on,” she mumbled, knocking louder with increasing urgency until she heard movement inside.
“Hold on a minute!”
She giggled as she heard him stumbling around inside, followed by a small crash. Leaning her ear closer to the screen door, she heard him mutter something unintelligible before he made it to the door. He flung open the inner door without looking. Turning away and running his hand over his face, Sam retrieved a light blue T-shirt draped over a nearby chair. His yawn was loud.
Lexa gulped, trying not to ogle this man’s ripped, entirely masculine chest with unabashed fascination. It was obvious he expected one of the men to be standing on his doorstep at this unearthly hour of the morning. Closing her mouth with conscious effort as she opened the screen door and stepped inside, Lexa gave him a look that must defy description. That cover model on the romance novel could only hope to look as good as Sam did. She swallowed her grin.
Tugging the T-shirt down over his head, Sam’s eyes widened in surprise when he realized it was Lexa standing on the doorstep. “Lexa! What brings you here at this hour?” His voice was groggy with sleep as he pulled the T-shirt down over his stomach with both hands. “This isn’t exactly the proper time for a social call,” he teased, stepping aside nonetheless. She noticed he left the door ajar in case anyone happened to be walking by. Sam needed to keep up appearances, after all.
“Nice digs,” Lexa told him in appreciation, darting a quick glance at the room. Not the time, Lexa. Get on with it.
Sam snorted. “Did you just say nice legs?” He cocked a brow.
Lexa laughed. “No. Clean out your ears. But, now that you mention it,” she said, eyeing him askance, “they’re not half bad. I was complimenting your humble abode.”
He shook his head, grinning. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s why you’re here in my room in the middle of the night. You’d better state your business now, Miss Clarke, before others get entirely the wrong idea about us. This isn’t the best move for your reputation, you know.”
“I think I know where Sheila might be!” Lexa blurted out. She thought she’d keel over with anticipation.
“What? Really?” He tugged a pair of denim shorts over the shorts he’d been sleeping in. “I mean, where?” Sam had the grace to look embarrassed that she was standing in the middle of the room, watching him get dressed. “Do you, uh, mind?”
She obliged him by turning around as he zipped the shorts. It seemed a moot point after that glimpse of his incredible chest.
Lexa tried to keep her voice calm. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Can I please turn back around now?”
“Go ahead.”
“I overheard Sheila singing in the shower a few times.”
“Lots of people sing in the shower.” Sam sat on his bed to pull on his socks. “I’ve even been accused of doing it myself from time to time. Not exactly the most pleasant of sounds,” he told her with a wry grin. “And not exactly a unique character trait.”
“Sam, please. Be serious,” Lexa insisted. “And, for the record, I’ve heard you sing and you do it quite well. Like you do everything else . . . without much practice, apparently,” she mumbled. “Anyway,” she said, shaking her head to clear her thoughts, “just listen and try to stifle, okay?”
He mimicked zipping his lips, and she clamped a hand over her mouth when she realized her voice carried and was much too loud.
“Guess what Sheila was singing?” Sam shrugged, b
ut remained silent.
“I Left My Heart In San Francisco!”
He shook his head as he tied the laces on his work boots. “Um, forgive me for being a bit foggy since it is the middle of the night, but I guess I’m not making the connection here. Are you saying you think Sheila’s gone to California? San Francisco?”
“No, no.” Lexa shook her head and pushed long hair out of her face. “You’re not really going to wear those boots, are you?”
“Why not?” He stopped tying the second boot.
She frowned. “Don’t you have a pair of tennis shoes or something? If we end up running around tonight, those boots are only going to weigh you down. Honestly, Sam, you couldn’t keep pace with a turtle.”
“All right. I suppose you’re right although I’ll have you know I was a pretty good track and field runner in college.” He chuckled. “I can see how impressed you are by that tidbit. Hang on.” Tugging the boots off his feet, he dropped them unceremoniously on the floor beside the bed. Going over to the closet, he grabbed a pair of tennis shoes and held them up. “I trust these suit you.”
Lexa nodded. “Much better.”
Sam eyed her as he tied the tennis shoes. “Nice hair, by the way.”
“Not the time, Lewis.” Lexa bit her lip not to laugh out loud.
“No, I mean it. It’s all messy and . . . sexy. I definitely like it.” Sam grinned. “And, I hesitate to mention this, but your shirt’s a little cockeyed.”
Lexa grunted. Picking up a pair of rolled socks from a nearby table, she tossed it at him.
“Good aim. Next mission, I’m signing you up for the TeamWork softball team.”
“Come on. It’s not the time to flirt. We have some rescuing to do! I’ve still got the keys for the station wagon. I’ll tell you on the way to the car.” She tossed him the keys as they headed out the door together. “I think Howard’s taken her to one of the missions . . .”
“The Mission San Francisco de la Spade.”
“Exactly!” Lexa beamed at him as they hopped in the car. She discreetly righted her blouse and buttoned it.
“Well, now that everyone in the camp is probably awake and alerted to our departure, shall we head for the mission?” Sam answered his own question by flooring the accelerator. “It’s the southernmost mission of all the missions. I’ve only been there once. It’s beautifully kept,” Sam told her as they headed out of the campsite.
Lexa rolled her eyes. As if the mission’s beautification efforts had anything whatsoever to do with the current situation-at-hand. “The main thing is, do you remember how to get there or do you have a map somewhere in the car?”
Sam nodded. “I think I can get us there easily enough. It’s on Spade Road. But why would Howard keep Sheila at the mission? He could be long gone on the way to Mexico by now. What do you think his plan is?” He negotiated a turn onto the dirt road that would lead them back to the main road.
“I have no idea, but I know one thing. Like you said, Howard wants his daughter, not Sheila. He won’t let Sheila go until he finds the child. Look, I realize I might be grasping at straws here, but I have this gut feeling they’re at the mission. I need to find out if I’m right.”
“You mean female intuition?” Sam chuckled at her grimace. “Hey, I’ve known it to work pretty well. You women are more in-tune with these kinds of things, I’ll give you that much. Let’s just pray we get there in time,” he added, flooring the accelerator again. “And pray we don’t run into any bored cops along the way. After all, I still have half a reputation as TeamWork director left to uphold.”
Turning off the lights and coasting a short time later, Sam stopped the engine. The air was still around them, and Lexa shivered, bringing her arms across her body. “Here,” Sam told her, reaching into the backseat and thrusting his jacket into her hands. “I keep it around for damsels chilled by the night air.”
Lexa smiled her thanks. “You seem to have a bag of magic tricks in that backseat.”
Sam grunted. “Yeah, well, come on,” he said, stepping out of the car and looking around. “We’ll have to walk from here. As it is, anyone in the immediate vicinity would have already heard this car announce our arrival. It’s just too loud. The mission is about a quarter mile in this direction.” He pointed ahead. “The Spade Aqueduct is right back there. It’s part of the mission’s original irrigation ditch system and dates from around 1740. It’s one of the oldest Spanish aqueducts in the United States. What?” He stopped walking as he caught her incredulous look.
“I can’t believe you’re giving me a history lesson right now, Sam Lewis!” Lexa hissed. She wanted to laugh, but her nerves were taut. “What if Howard has a gun? What if he’s done Sheila harm? What then? Are we nuts for coming out here in the middle of the night searching for them?”
“Hey, a good fact to know and tell never hurts,” Sam protested in a low voice. “All right, if you’d rather not know your history . . .”
“Is this how you deal with stress? You start tossing out little history lessons?” Lexa demanded. “Well, then, I guess it’s a good thing I’m finding out now.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Unbelievable.”
“You’re the one who brought us out here on a hunch,” Sam groused, picking up speed. “And now, apparently you’re second-guessing yourself.”
“Am not.” Lexa quickened her pace to keep up with his ridiculously long strides. “How far are we from the mission now?” They’d half-walked, half-run a fair distance in silence.
“We’re probably almost there,” Sam whispered. “We’d better not talk anymore. Just stay by my side until we reach the mission.” Lexa couldn’t believe she’d dragged Sam off in the middle of the night for a probable goose chase. Still, as she’d told him earlier, she had to know if her hunch was right. After all, it’s what Nancy Drew would do. Didn’t the titian-haired sleuth solve a mystery near one of the missions?
“Sam!” The mission loomed in view ahead of them, majestic and dramatic against the backdrop of the moon.
“What?” he mouthed back, putting his finger over his lips.
He stooped down so that Lexa could whisper directly in his ear. “I saw something from the corner of my eye. Over there.” She pointed in the direction of a far outer wall of the mission. Sam nodded and headed in that direction, pulling Lexa behind him. When she hesitated a moment, he looked back, squeezing her hand for comfort.
Lexa was glad Sam didn’t want to split up as they continued their search of the area. His hold on her hand grew tighter as they neared the walls of the old mission. Lexa couldn’t help but feel awed as she looked up at the imposing façade. Sam stopped, and bowed his head for a moment, closing his eyes. Lexa dared not allow her eyes to close, too, for fear they might be caught unaware. She lifted up her own silent prayer with eyes wide open.
I know you can hear this prayer, Father. Please watch over us and Sheila right now. Help us to find her and take her away from this place safely. Be with Howard. Give him a calmness so that he doesn’t act rashly and do something foolish. You are a great God, and I know that you have everything in your control, gracious Father. Looking over at Sam, Lexa saw that he, too, had finished his prayer. Together they stealthily proceeded toward the outer wall of the old mission.
Slowly making their way around the façade, Sam kept his tight hold on Lexa’s hand. She loved how holding hands was so natural for them now. At the moment, it comforted her. “Over there, Sam!” Lexa called to him a few minutes later as they rounded the side wall. “It’s a man, and he’s running!”
“Can you see if it’s Howard?” Sam started running, tugging Lexa along behind him.
“No! But I don’t think he’s alone!” she called, no longer worried about being heard. The mere fact they were running was a pretty good indicator they knew they’d been spotted.
“Stop! All we want to do is talk to you!” They were gaining on the two, slowly but surely. Sam let go of her hand to move ahead with Lexa trailing slightly behind.
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The man looked behind him to judge the distance between them and she saw something gleaming in the moonlight. “Sam! He’s got a gun!” she hollered at the exact moment she heard a loud popping sound. In a sickening instant, Lexa knew it was the sound of the gun going off.
CHAPTER 40
Sam fell to the ground in one swift movement, yelling for Lexa to do the same. Daring to look up a moment later, she saw the man had taken off again. “Come on!” Sam muttered, sounding angry. Jumping back to his feet, he sprinted in the direction of the moving figures.
“Sam! Don’t be crazy! He’s obviously not afraid to use that gun!” She took off after him.
“Yeah, but he’s a lousy shot,” Sam called back over his shoulder, not slowing his pace.
“Is that supposed to be funny?” Lexa slowed her steps.
“I don’t think he shot with intent to kill. He only wants to scare us. Just run, Lexa! Run!”
Run she did. Soon, they were gaining on the pair ahead of them. They ran in an open field with no protection should the man decide to use the gun again. Lexa’s heart pounded in her chest but quickened even more when she realized that the second person running with the man was, in fact, Sheila.
“Sheila!” she called at the top of her lungs. It was an agonizing call of desperation. “Stop! We’re here to help you!” They heard a muffled sound as the man clamped a large hand over Sheila’s mouth. They were close enough now to see that it was Howard. Sheila’s legs dragged the ground, and her husband had no choice but to drop her altogether or slow his pace. Sam reached them, and his hands raised in the air when Howard pulled the gun on him.
“I’m not afraid to use this, man,” Howard warned in a surly, hoarse voice. “I ain’t afraid to shoot Sheila either.”
“Then why haven’t you?” Sam sputtered, gasping for breath as he met the man’s hard, cold gaze. Stopping behind him, Lexa leaned forward, hands on her knees, breathing hard. She couldn’t catch her breath and breathed a silent prayer.
