Free from Guilt

by Pat Simmons

  “You keep a schedule?” Gabrielle didn’t conceal her offense. “Is that your cutoff time before you move on to another woman?”

  “Unfortunately, I’m moving back home, and that’s all the time we’ll have in Boston.”

  We? Gabrielle tried to keep a straight face. The fact that he was moving to the exact place where she was seriously considering relocating intimidated her. She wanted to laugh and correct him that there was no “we.”

  It was like she couldn’t escape him, not by going to the ladies’ room or while being at Talise’s house. Now, here he was at the airport. And, perhaps they would eventually share the same city? God, is there a lesson to be learned with this man? she silently asked.

  “Stand firm and see the deliverance I will give you,” God whispered back.

  Gabrielle recognized the partial verse from 2 Chronicles 20:17, but that was in reference to a physical battle. What kind of tug-of-war should she prepare for with Cameron? When God didn’t utter another whisper, she resolved that she had no choice. This was a time to stand still and keep her eyes wide open. Jesus, help me not even to blink.

  “I know it’s late in the day and I’m probably not the first one to compliment you, but I’ll say it anyway. You’re beautiful.”

  All Gabrielle could do was hold her breath and manage to smile. Actually, no one had said that to her today or since the wedding now that she thought about it. But it wasn’t as if she expected it either. She exhaled.

  During her lengthy airline career, Gabrielle had attracted many men of stature and from many nationalities. She had turned down marriage proposals, gifts, and other enticements. What she desired most was a man who could meet her on all levels. The prerequisite was his genuine humility before the Lord. Then too, Jesus must be satisfied with her choice. Subsequently, if God actually sent someone, He would have to be pleased with the man, right? She desperately tried to reason with herself.

  “Thank you. But Cameron, I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t see us as a good fit. Sorry.”

  He remained expressionless as she delivered the blow. Instantly, she felt bad. No one liked rejection, but he would need more than good looks to get her attention. As if the realization was beginning to sink in, Cameron turned away and watched passengers hurrying to make their flights. Was he contemplating a comeback?

  “If you open your pretty brown eyes, you might see what I see—because I totally reject your assessment.” Stretching out his legs, his mannerism seemed to parlay into a man about to conduct a seminar. “What attracts you to a man?”

  Was he trying to dissect her heart or her mind? Even so, a small, small piece of her was flattered that he wasn’t about to give up.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Let’s analyze this notion. How do we make the pieces fit? Simple. We can prune, mold, or puff up their size. I’m a quick study and I’m learning that, with you, I have to repeat my questions more than once to get an answer.” He winked.

  That gesture softened his scolding.

  “What qualities does a man need to snag your attention? In addition to my …” He cleared his throat. “I mean—the man’s looks, employment, and education.”

  Gabrielle laughed. “You slipped.”

  “Never. I’m very calculated in my approach to you. I meant I, but I sense you feel less threatened if I keep it generalized. Trust me, before the next eight weeks have ended, it’s going to be all personal—”

  Swallowing, Gabrielle was once again tongue-tied.

  When his cell phone played a tune, he mumbled choice words and snatched it out of its holder. “It’s Ace,” he informed her and stood. “Will you watch my jacket and carry-on?” She nodded and he walked away.

  Gabrielle’s heart shifted. The curse under Cameron’s breath broke his spell. She was so caught up in his web that it took God to show her the truth. Unless He pruned Cameron, the man could never fit into her life.

  Chapter Seven

  Cameron had to do damage control fast. Of all times, why did a harmless slip of the tongue happen right now, in front of Gabrielle? He was sure that mistake would cost him and he would make his cousin pay for causing the setback. He cursed again; this time under his breath. In his book, a PG-rated swearword didn’t make him a bad person. His good deeds canceled out his bad faults, didn’t they?

  Since he was becoming a pro at reading her expressions, when he returned to the seating area, Cameron knew he was back to square one.

  Next to his parents, Gabrielle was now at the top of his list of people for whom he would rein in his tongue whenever he was around them. It was simply mind over matter.

  He who can control his tongue can also control himself in every other way.

  Cameron’s mind froze as he considered the mental interruption. Those words had to come from somewhere. It was as if the airwaves carried them from God. When he had time, he would have to look that up in the Bible, which was somewhere in his condo. He vowed to check it out. With that settled, he resumed his damage control.

  “I’m sorry, Gabrielle.”

  She turned to him with a disappointing stare. “What are you apologizing for, your profanity or for taking the call?” She lifted an arched brow in a challenge.

  “Both.”

  “I accept …” she replied.

  Forgiven. Whew, that was easy. Cameron returned her smile, as he admired her features. She was naturally pretty. If she wore makeup, he couldn’t tell it.

  “Thank you for helping me to make up my mind. For the past few days, I’ve been struggling over whether I should go out with you or stay as far away as possible. Cameron, I can’t be with a man who lifts up praises to God and from the same mouth spews curse words.”

  He was dumbfounded. How could Gabrielle let a few misguided words stop her from possibly finding the best thing that ever happened to her?

  “I’m not a perfect man, Gabrielle.”

  Her eyes misted. “That’s a given, but are you trying to be?”

  Please don’t let her cry. Otherwise, he would come undone. Although he planned to give her a truthful answer, he had to be careful how he phrased it. “I’m as perfect as I …” he began. Patting his chest, he completed his defense. “Know how to be. Gabrielle, you are no ordinary woman. If any woman could show me the error of my ways, it would be you.”

  Her eyes brightened as they searched his; Cameron could tell she was judging him carefully to see if he was sincere. When she laid her hand on top of his, he trapped it. She didn’t resist his gentle hold.

  “We can be friends,” she said softly.

  “Oh, no. That’s not going to work.” Cameron had his share of female “friends” over the years. Their motive was hoping they would become more.

  The chemistry between him and Gabrielle was different. It was building rapidly and too powerful for him to let get away. He had to find out what it was about her that made her so special.

  With her, Cameron knew a friendship would be nothing but a farce. The fireworks hadn’t been extinguished since he laid eyes on her, and he wasn’t referring to the stinging from the Mace. Obviously, she was fighting the magnetism.

  For the second time, Cameron stood and asked her to save his seat. There had to be somewhere in the airport where he could purchase some flowers. Romance 101 was now in session.

  Perfection was in God’s eyes. Gabrielle knew that, but she wanted Cameron to be flawless for selfish reasons. Torn by her own superficial thoughts proved to be a disappointing exercise. Yet, overlooking the small mishaps could cause bigger issues to sneak up on her—then her world would come crashing down. That was the real danger.

  With a troubled heart, she forced her eyes from admiring his gait until he disappeared down the terminal. Bowing her head, but keeping her eyes open, Gabrielle began to pray, Jesus, I don’t know what I’m doing here. God, I’m confused. I don’t know what to pray.

  Pausing for a moment to listen for God’s answer, she sensed the Holy Spirit was making intercessory req
uests on her behalf. Gabrielle could feel the internal utterings going forth. Before ending with Amen, she added, God, I’m not afraid of the devil. But, I’m leery of the temptation Cameron invokes in me. Please help me, in the Name of Jesus. Amen.

  I have already prayed for you, Jesus spoke.

  “Thank You,” she whispered back.

  Taking a deep breath, she looked at her surroundings. Gabrielle had never met a man like Cameron. Usually, men got the message when she didn’t want to be bothered. They either moved on or felt she wasn’t worth wearing down. Where her expressions might be an open book to him, his expressions were unreadable. He calmly took her rejection and bounced back as if he hadn’t heard a word she said.

  Minutes went by. It was almost time to board and Cameron hadn’t returned. Getting to her feet, Gabrielle wondered what she should do about his jacket and bag. Deciding to take them with her, she wormed her way through the passengers and stood in line under A20–25, the designated numbers to be called for boarding. When she turned around, Cameron was coming her way. Shaking her head, Gabrielle had to give it to him. The man’s proud, confident stride would get any woman’s attention.

  Edging others out of his way, he presented her with a small bouquet of flowers.

  “For you.”

  She was so busy watching his gait, she hadn’t noticed what was in his hand. “Thank you.” She looked up into his eyes as he towered over her.

  Retrieving his belongings from her, he stepped back and looked at the number for his spot in line. Gabrielle didn’t know when he booked this flight, but usually any last-minute passengers were given a C boarding, which was basically the last group to get on the plane. Judging from the crowd, it appeared the plane would be packed.

  That was not the case with Cameron. Somehow, he had managed to snag a spot in group A, just ahead of her.

  Instead of staying there, Cameron returned to her side and offered the man behind her his priority number. The gentleman eagerly accepted and moved up in line. Forgetting his earlier transgression, Gabrielle experienced another “wow” moment for her handbook of romance. The attractiveness of a determined man was very intriguing. Yet Cameron Jamieson could not be taken at face value, even if he did have a handsome face.

  “So you’re a business traveler,” she stated, knowing those passengers received preferential seating and boarded first.

  “Yep, between work and home, I rack up the miles. That will come to an end when I move back home where all my folks are, unless …” He paused and gave her the most considerate look. “Unless a very special lady misses me and wants me to come back and visit her. In the words of Michael Jackson’s pop hit, ‘I’ll be there.’ That is, on the next flight.”

  Somehow, Gabrielle believed him. When she shifted her carry-on to her other hand, Cameron took it from her. Smiling, she thanked him.

  The crowded line moved along. In their confined space, Gabrielle racked her brain for a neutral topic. She was much more comfortable with him when he wasn’t trying to hit on her.

  “I’m so glad no one got upset with me for letting Denise come along. I didn’t realize she was hurting so badly to find her relatives.”

  Cameron shook his head as he extended his hand for Gabrielle to walk ahead of him to have her ticket scanned. “Once you discover one ancestor, you begin to hunger and thirst for more.”

  Hunger and thirst, two words that were synonymous with righteousness in Matthew 5:6, she mentally recalled.

  “Have you or your family members traced your roots?” he asked.

  “No, honestly, I don’t think there’s an interest. We’re content with knowing what we know.” She shrugged. Stepping on the plane, she nodded at a flight attendant. With Cameron behind her, she assumed he would automatically commandeer the seat next to her.

  He didn’t and asked politely. “Do you mind if I sit with Gabrielle?”

  Smiling, she patted the cushion. It was so refreshing to see him drop the “I am man” persona.

  Recognizing a few faces of fellow employees, Gabrielle waved.

  “I’m sure my brothers fed her so much information that it left her tipsy. We’re constantly updating our family data on familytree.com. Researching ancestors is a group effort, and it could take generations to connect the dots. Now Denise will have access to documents and more information than she has time to read.”

  Cameron snickered. “She was floored to find out that she was an eleventh generation descendant of Prince Paki Kokumuo Jaja, who was the firstborn son of King Seif of the Diomande tribe. Royalty runs through our veins.” He winked.

  Gabrielle twisted her mouth in amusement. So much for a reprieve on Cameron’s stuck-on-himself attitude. As far as she knew, the Duprees were simple people with Southern roots via Africa.

  “You area chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light,” Jesus whispered 1 Peter 2:9 to her spirit.

  As the remaining passengers boarded the plane, seats became scarce. A pretty woman, who had evidently been heavy-handed with her perfume bottle, grabbed the aisle seat next to Cameron. When her skirt climbed up on her thighs, it appeared she had no shame to tame it.

  Sniffing her flowers, Gabrielle hid her smile as she slyly watched Cameron try not to watch the woman’s movements. Then she softly giggled.

  Men preferred shapely legs, and the woman had them. As a matter of fact, Gabrielle would be shocked if he didn’t try to sneak a peek. But, so far, he hadn’t given in to the temptation.

  Then Cameron’s seatmate tugged on her skirt to no avail. The thing wasn’t moving. Defeated, she clicked her belt. Next, she turned and extended her hand.

  “Hi …” she introduced herself.

  “Cameron.” He nodded and briefly met her hand with his.

  Calling for everyone’s attention, the crew demonstrated the safety procedures, patrolled the aisles for a seat belt check, and prepared for takeoff. Within seconds, Cameron’s seatmate resumed her conversation.

  Gabrielle took that as her cue to look out the window. But something was wrong with her. All of a sudden, she craved Cameron’s undivided attention to engage her in meaningless chit-chat.

  It wasn’t that a glimpse at the woman’s legs had anything to do with her wish. Cameron didn’t, because she watched him. Any seed of jealousy that the devil tried to plant, Gabrielle was on guard to rebuke it. She reminded herself that God had a man for her. And that man wouldn’t have a wandering eye. That was the desire of her heart, so she relaxed … or tried to.

  “So who do you work for?” Miss Chatterbox inquired.

  “I teach at a school in Boston.”

  Gabrielle blinked. What? Cameron turned down the opportunity to bombast his credentials. Was he suddenly not feeling well? What gives?

  “Hmm. That’s a noble profession. I wouldn’t have pegged you for an educator. You have the air of a CEO.”

  Gabrielle rolled her eyes to keep from shaking her head. Talk about whipping it on thick. The woman needed to turn off her blender. She was adding layers to Cameron’s already oversaturated ego.

  “If my teachers in school looked like you, I never would have graduated.”

  Hmm. I don’t doubt that. Gabrielle had enough of eavesdropping. Resting the bouquet on her lap, she dug into her purse for the romance novel she had started when she left Boston for St. Louis. Opening it to the page where her bookmark rested, she made her best attempt to get lost in the story:

  Chapter Four

  Xena had made bad choices with the men in her past, but this time, she was letting God do the picking. Bryson had a ready-made family, but he loved her and so did his two boys. That was all she wanted …

  Engrossed, Gabrielle hadn’t realized that Cameron was nudging her. When his warm breath tickled her ear, she giggled and then blushed. It wasn’t because of him. Xena and Bryson were about to share their first kiss.

  “What are y
ou doing?” She faced him, a little annoyed at the interruption.

  “How does Xena look?” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “You smile when you read, so I’m curious. Why are you fantasizing about romance when it could be your reality?”

  “You know nothing about me,” she snapped. Putting the bookmark back in place, she closed her book. Gabrielle arched her brow and looked at him, defiantly.

  “I know enough to want to know more.” He matched her lifted brow.

  And so Cameron, the flirt, had returned. Why doesn’t he use his charm on the siren on the other side of him? She wondered.

  They stared at each other. The man had the perfect jawbone to pull off a goatee. His brown eyes were mesmerizing. Through peripheral vision, a manicured hand came out of nowhere and patted Cameron on his thigh. Gabrielle noticed his leg muscle tensed.

  “I’m visiting my sister in Cambridge for a week,” Miss Chatterbox said. “Why don’t we exchange numbers? Maybe we can go out for drinks or something?”

  She was daring—and rude. Did the woman not see that the man was speaking with her? They could have been a couple for all she knew, but the flirt threw out the invitation anyway. He wouldn’t be all male not to bite.

  “I hope you enjoy your stay. I stopped drinking years ago—well sort of. It’s terrible on your liver, and the number of people killed every year from drunk drinking is staggering.”

  Just answer the question, Gabrielle thought. She was sure the woman was holding her breath too.

  “Well, here’s my number in case you think of something else to do.” When she tried to give him her card, Cameron held up his hands, declining.

  “I can’t juggle more than one woman at a time. Actually, I’m trying to get the number from this gorgeous lady over here.” He pointed to Gabrielle.

  Gabrielle’s jaw dropped as the woman leaned over. The stranger seemed to assess her presence for the first time, and then smirked. “Well, I don’t play hard to get.”