by JoAnn Durgin
Lexa’s cheeks grew pink again, but at least she didn’t look away. Sure enough, those arms crossed in front of her. For an independent woman who didn’t hesitate to speak her mind, she sometimes seemed tongue-tied. “You’re pretty good at reading people.”
“I try. Maybe it’s annoying at times, but it helps me be a better leader.” Sam grunted. “Listen, I was actually wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. But,” he added, arching a brow, “since you don’t want to be pressured into anything else, I guess a date is out of the question.” After deciding he wasn’t going to ask Lexa out, the words slid off his tongue, unbidden, of their own accord. Maybe it was the Holy Spirit prompting him. Then again, maybe it wasn’t.
“I . . . I,” Lexa spouted, unsuccessful in hiding her shock. “I certainly didn’t expect that question.”
Sam scratched his head. “Neither did I, to be honest. But it’s out there, so we might as well deal with it.” He hadn’t asked anyone out in more than three years. Under normal circumstances, he preferred getting to know a woman better before asking her on a date. Since Lexa also lived in Houston, common sense would dictate waiting until after the TeamWork camp was over. But normalcy and common sense had long since flown out the window.
She tilted her head to one side, but didn’t appear angry. “Was I just insulted?”
“No. That didn’t come out the way I intended. I believe I just asked you for a date. I hope you have an answer.” Leaning his head down, Sam attempted to regain her eye contact. The woman looked a million miles away. He was beginning to recognize that look, and it was only the second day of the camp. It might be an exhilarating eight weeks ahead. Or it could be quite awkward if things didn’t go well.
Lexa started to cross her arms, and Sam felt a measure of satisfaction when she dropped them to her sides. Her mouth twisted in what looked like a serious attempt not to grin. “I’m sure you’re a man used to getting what he wants.”
“Neither do I ask for something I don’t want.” Where that line came from, he had no idea. But he meant it. If only those eyes of hers weren’t so incredible. Big, luminous pools of blue-green drawing him in and wrapping around his emotions, his mind. He could drown in those eyes. No woman had ever affected him this way, not even Shelby. Knowing what was best, Sam avoided looking at Lexa’s mouth. No answer seemed forthcoming, so he turned to go.
“I didn’t say no.”
Sam took his sweet time in turning back around to face her. “I’m not sure how to interpret that answer. Reading a woman’s mind is not my strong suit.” When Lexa met his eyes, he was half afraid she was going to turn him down flat.
“I suppose my answer is . . . yes.” It almost sounded like a question. He wasn’t sure which of the two of them was more surprised by the turn of events—the question or the answer.
He nodded, and a grin escaped. “Good.” It was way better than good, but he had to keep his image intact. Jumping up and down like a kid didn’t seem appropriate. Yes never sounded so promising. Lexa’s answer thrilled him more than he wanted to admit. Sam nodded and ran a hand through his hair. It was a nervous habit. Not that it was a bad thing, but he needed to watch it.
The look she gave him told him he might have jumped the gun. It was pretty obvious she thought he was a fast worker. In this case, he had to agree. But the die was cast. Sam was determined to play out this little scenario, enjoy the ride and see what happened.
“Forgive me, but I have to ask. Do you make it a habit to ask out your new volunteers?” Lexa giggled, a sound as surprising as it was charming.
He laughed. “Not usually, no. Even then,” he added, fighting the nerves twisting inside, “only the . . .”
Amusement slowly widened Lexa’s grin. “The spicy ones?” She crossed her arms and shook her head, and it swung her braid like a clock’s pendulum.
Great. Now she’d think he was a player when nothing could be further from the truth. He had to keep talking before Lexa came to her senses and changed her mind. “We could get away together for a little while either tomorrow night or the next. I can ask one of the other guys to cover the bonfire and give everyone a break from me for one night.” He grinned. “If you’d like, we can go down to the Riverwalk and grab some dessert.”
Sam prayed Lexa couldn’t tell how his loud his heart thundered, how shallow his breathing had become. This was something he really wanted, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. Just the way she looked at him made him want to know more about her. He sensed a hesitancy, as if she somehow felt unworthy. But unworthy of God’s love, or something else, he couldn’t guess. That’s what he wanted to find out. On the other hand, he could be totally misreading her.
“I love the Riverwalk, but I’m not sure how many desserts you can simply reach out and grab.” Lexa dug the toe of one boot into the barren ground again, shoving her hands in the pockets of her shorts before finally looking back up at him. It was the same thing she’d done earlier. Maybe she was more nervous than she let on.
Sam laughed. “I can see you’re a literalist. I’ll need to watch my syntax around you.”
Lexa shook her head. “Syntax is the study of the structure of a sentence. I simply meant to watch what you say, Mr. Lewis. There’s a difference.”
Watching her walk back into the women’s dorm, Sam shook his head and smiled. “I’ll do that, Miss Clarke.”
Would he ever.
~~**~~
Lexa didn’t look back. The fluttering in her stomach tickled her from the inside out. It was undeniable although she hadn’t felt it in a very long time. The first time it happened, she was seventeen and the guy in her senior class she’d crushed on for years caught her eye and smiled. But, of course, that’s all it was. One little moment frozen in time—complete with scratched goggles and glass beakers in a chemistry lab.
The second time, it was with a man named Nick she worked with in Houston. After she devoted almost a year of her life to him, he’d tarried with her emotions and moved off to greener pastures in Colorado without so much as a decent good-bye. Lexa wasn’t sure she’d ever recover from the hurt. Nick claimed to be a good Christian man, but based on what she’d heard from friends, he’d found someone to satisfy his more basic, primitive urges. At least anger made it easier to forgive the hurt.
No man was going to claim her heart easily. Most men weren’t available in terms of emotion, or else they’d tarry with her affections like Nick and then leave. Weren’t all men the same? Her thoughts strayed to a very tall man with wavy dark hair, killer smile lines and almost unbelievably blue eyes. Combined with the glasses, the tinge of silver at his temples lent an air of authority and confidence. He was a good leader, a man after God’s own heart. And he’d asked her out on a date.
In twenty-five years, no one ever told her they admired her. Her mother didn’t live long enough to tell her. Her father never told her. Neither had her teachers, bosses or co-workers. Sure, they thought she did a good job, but never once did they use the word admire. But here was the director of the TeamWork camp—a man she’d barely met—telling her he admired her. The compliment was as wonderful as it was hard to believe.
Opening the door of the dorm, Lexa tried to dismiss such musings. No man was perfect. Not even Sam Lewis. Something had to be wrong with him. Only the guys in romance novels were dependable. Yeah, right. Lexa knew it was a lie, but it was all she had to cling to at the moment. Until proven otherwise, she needed to keep believing it.
CHAPTER 9
A Bible sat on top of her pillow a few hours later. Lexa smiled when she opened the front cover and spied Rebekah’s name inside, scrawled by a child’s hand. With its dog-eared, yellowed pages, it had been treasured. Loved. Just the night before, Rebekah handed her a straw hat. How wonderful to find such a good friend to watch over her so soon in the TeamWork camp.
“You–you’re cer–cer–certainly in . . . a . . . a . . . goo–good m–moo–mood.”
Lexa whirled in a circle, surprised. A slow sm
ile slipped out. “Yes, I guess I am.” She plopped down beside Sheila on the bed and dangled her feet over the edge. “So, what do we do on a quiet Sunday afternoon around here? I mean, do we rest or do we work?” She’d go crazy staring at the four walls of the dorm or making small talk with the other girls for an entire afternoon.
“M–mo–most of us re–rest, b–but S–S–Sam does–doesn’t st–st–stop th–th–the oth–others th–that wa–wa–want to d–do ex–extra wor–work a–around th–the ca–camp–campsite. B–but he for–forbids any–anyone t–to go to th–the work . . . worksite.”
Lexa tilted her head to the side. “He forbids it? Seriously?” Interesting.
A look of warning surfaced in Sheila’s dark eyes. “He st–strong–strongly ad–advi–advises a . . . again–against it.”
Lexa grinned. “We’ll just see about that.”
~~**~~
Two hours later, alone at the worksite, Lexa wondered what in the world possessed her to do something so foolhardy as to venture out by herself in the blazing heat. What was she trying to prove? Perhaps the important question was whether she was trying to prove something to herself or to a certain man named Sam Lewis. The answer was both, but more so to Sam. She wanted to prove to the TeamWork director that she was a hard worker and could swing a hammer with the best of his dedicated volunteers.
With increased determination, Lexa pounded another nail into the board she’d been working on the day before. It was mindless and rote, but therapeutic in a surprising way. She’d made some decent headway. Lexa squinted as she looked up at the wood frame of the house. It was the third out of six they were to rebuild. Two waited to be painted since they’d been constructed by others before the arrival of the TeamWork crew. Her eyes scanned the three other homes in the early stages of construction. Sam must be proud of what TeamWork would accomplish here. The residents needed the help—financially and physically—to rebuild their homes.
Even though she’d never been good at judging heights or distance, Lexa figured the height from the top of the frame to the ground was about twenty-five feet, give or take. Not a great distance, but she didn’t want to know if it was any higher. She could do this. All she had to do was swing herself up there and hammer in some nails. Piece of cake. She’d always been pretty well-coordinated and a good climber. Sam would discover a little leprechaun had been busy working on the house . . . on Sunday, no less.
~~**~~
Sam knocked on the door of the women’s dorm. He felt somewhat like a suitor standing on the doorstep holding a flower in his hands. He cleared his throat. “Beck? You in there?”
“Hey, stranger. Come on in. What brings you to our humble abode this afternoon?” Rebekah held the screen door open and beckoned him inside.
“I’m looking for Lexa.” Sam scanned the room. Although he tried to cover his disappointment at not finding her, he should have known he couldn’t fool Beck.
She crossed her arms and gave him one of her knowing looks. “So, I was right. You have a little crush on your new TeamWork volunteer. The petite blonde one with the braid.” She shot him a wry grin.
“Trust me, no one’s more surprised than me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Am I that transparent?”
Rebekah nodded. “Afraid so, my friend. And put your hand down. Your nerves are showing. Just be careful. You and I both know Lexa’s skittish.” Her brows drew together. “She’s afraid of something, but I don’t know what. Did you learn anything from reading her application?”
“A few things, yes, but you know I’m not at liberty to discuss any details.”
Rebekah laughed. “Of course not, being TeamWork director and all.”
He crossed the room. “Isn’t this Lexa’s bed?”
“Right.” She eyed the small, black leather book in Sam’s hands. “What’s this? Your little black book?” Her green eyes teased.
“Something I’m not using anymore. I want Lexa to have it.”
Rebekah nodded. “And am I supposed to let on that I know who brought this gift if she asks me?”
Sam shook his head, heading toward the door again. “I think she’ll be able to figure it out.”
With a grin, he tugged his Stetson over his head and whistled the entire way back to his office.
~~**~~
Hammering away, Lexa paused when she realized she hummed the chorus she’d learned at the morning service. It came naturally, and had a catchy tune. Hearing an odd noise, something unidentifiable yet couldn’t be human, Lexa peered down at the ground. She screeched when she spied what had to be the biggest, ugliest armadillo in the world. It settled directly beneath her elevated perch. Having lived in Texas her entire life, she’d seen countless armadillos before, but in the road and . . . well, dead.
“Hello there, big fella! Go on your way now. There’s bound to be something better for you down the road. Over there! Shoo!” Lexa motioned with her arm, waving as if the animal could see her much less understand what she was telling it to do.
The absurdity of her situation hit. She started laughing and couldn’t stop. It was like that ornery old goat staring at her from the middle of the road. She hadn’t laughed so hard or so long in years, and the release felt good. Really good.
Oh, this was rich. Here she was, sitting twenty-five feet up in the air, laughing her head off, with an armadillo waiting for her on the ground. No way on earth was she climbing down until that ugly creature left the area. Do they bite? If she climbed back down from her perch, would it attack her?
“Okay, it’s either you or me, big guy!” Lexa considered the possibility of throwing her hammer to scare it. After all, she’d proven herself pretty decent at throwing tools around—on purpose or not. Not wishing to hurt the armadillo, Lexa decided to work a little longer. Swinging the hammer high, she brought it down again and pounded her left thumb. Hard.
“Yowza!” With the force of her yelp, she bit her lip. Hard. Oh, bother.
Wincing, Lexa stuck her thumb in her mouth and sulked. The worst part of it all was that she deserved it. This would teach her to do something foolish just to prove a point. She leaned over, hoping the creature might be scared off by her outburst. Nope, she wasn’t so blessed.
“You’re not about to leave first, are you?” Frowning in disgust, she crossed her arms and pouted, prepared to wait out her standoff with the armadillo. What a fine situation.
~~**~~
Sam scooted over as Rebekah dropped onto the bench beside him. Almost finished with dinner, he planned on a quiet evening studying the plans for the house they’d finish in the next few days. They kept such a grueling pace during the week, it was nice to observe a quiet day, taking the Lord’s Sabbath to heart. It might be an old-fashioned concept for some, but it worked for him.
“Sam, I’m a little worried about Lexa.”
He finished the last bite of peach cobbler. The peach was truly God’s greatest fruit. Smacking his lips and wiping his mouth with the napkin, Sam turned his full attention to Rebekah. “I’m sure she’s fine. Is there any reason to think she’s not?”
“She’s missing.” Rebekah’s arms crossed on top of the table, and she frowned.
Sam blinked hard. His heartbeat increased tenfold. “What do you mean, she’s missing?”
An exasperated sigh escaped. “She wasn’t in the dorm all afternoon, and you didn’t see her here for dinner, did you?” Rebekah waved her hand around the tent.
“Is her suitcase gone?” Had Lexa already packed it in and given up on their camp? Maybe he’d scared her off with the whole let’s-grab-dessert thing. But she hadn’t seemed adverse to the idea. Where could she have gone? Other than the dorm, dining tent and laundry facilities, it was all wide open spaces. She couldn’t hide, even if she wanted. “Maybe she’s doing laundry or went into town.” Sam tried to keep his breathing even.
“Relax, Sam. I didn’t mean to get you all worried.” Rebekah put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “After all, why would she leave now when
she’s caught the attention of our fearless leader?” She caught his look and shrugged. “I checked the laundry room, and she’s not there. If she went into town, she didn’t tell any of our roommates about it. Besides, how would she get there since you’re the only one with a car?”
“You know the reason for that.”
She nodded. “Sorry. Of course, I do. Do you think we should send out a search party?”
“No need for that yet. We don’t want to jump the gun. I’m beginning to think anything’s possible with Lexa. She probably wandered off somewhere and forgot about the time. I’m sure she’ll be back soon. We still have some time before nightfall.” He nodded at a couple of the men across the dining tent and forced a smile he didn’t feel.
“Wandered off . . . where? Surely you’re not going to wait until nightfall to look for her?” Rebekah’s voice was incredulous.
“No, I suppose not.” Sam’s heart raced. While not wanting to overreact, he wanted to know where Lexa was. Wanted to know now. An unsettled feeling washed over him. The woman came to his camp looking for adventure. She was feisty and impetuous. Who knows where she might have gone, what she might have done, what kind of trouble she might have managed to find. Or what kind of trouble might have found her. He scowled.
Leaving the table, Sam dumped his empty plate in the trash can. He turned in a slow circle to face Rebekah. His hands found his hips, his forehead creased with concentration. “Are the other girls in the dorm now, do you know?”
“Yes, I think most of them are.” Rebekah hurried to catch up with his long strides as Sam headed in the direction of Building Seven.
“Fine. We’ll start by asking them if they’ve seen her, what they know.” The innate leader had taken control once more.
