While she was gone, he stepped over to examine the last card. A piece of moss-green card stock framed a cool recycled-looking one. When I am afraid, I put my trust in You. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust. Psalm 56:3–4.
Zan scanned the apartment, and he spotted several others, each with its own artsy script. All Bible verses?
“Here.” She came up beside him and his world suddenly smelled like fresh apples. She held out a tightly woven leather strap.
“What’s this?” As he reached for it, his fingers grazed her hand. Adrenaline flooded his bloodstream, and his heart kicked it up a notch.
Kasia sucked in a breath, stepped back. Her eyes brightened. She’d felt something too, he was sure of it.
The leather was smooth and cool, seasoned like a well-worn glove, but he wished he could replay the last minute and brush her hand with his fingertips again.
She crossed her arms. “You asked me to bring something back from Peru for you. It’s just a bookmark or whatever.” Around her slight wrist, a similar leather strap was tied. It looked earthy and unusual—a reminder of where she’d been and all she’d seen.
He rubbed the gift between his fingers. “Thank you. I didn’t really expect anything.”
She waved his compliment off. “It’s not that great. I hardly know you.”
He smiled, mentally promising himself to change that fact. “You wear yours on your wrist.”
She looked down and blushed.
“It’s not the same thing. I got them from the same kid, I guess, but…they were cheap. I liked the intricate pattern.”
“Hey!” Jayce shouted from A.J.’s room. “I just called for Chinese. You two want to go pick it up?”
Zan tilted his head as she gazed up at him. “I’m in. Do you mind?” Zan asked.
“Let me grab my bag.”
When she returned, they walked out to his vehicle.
“You said a kid made these?” Zan asked. “How old?”
“Twelve or so. It might’ve been the only income his family gets too. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I saw.”
Zan flipped his keys in the air and caught them. “Tell me.”
Her nose scrunched up. She wasn’t buying his interest.
“I want to know about it. Seriously. All summer, reading your updates was my favorite pastime.” He hadn’t commented on most of them, because he didn’t want to push. But she had to know he was genuine.
“The people are so content with the little they have. They don’t worry about what I would’ve considered suffering or sacrificing. There’s an acceptance and a peace—it’s hard to explain. But I appreciated it.” She traced the pattern in her bracelet. “Felt a little jealous of it, actually.”
It was still warm in the evenings, so he hadn’t put the canvas shell on his CJ yet. Still, he followed Kasia around in case she needed help climbing in. Kept his hands near her back.
A minute later, he started the engine. “So seeing their suffering changed you?”
She closed her eyes, probably remembering the faces she saw in those village streets. When they opened, her answer was quiet. “I saw things in those mountains that put my whole life into perspective. Who am I anyway? No one important. But if God wants to use me, I’m His. He does things—allows things—I don’t understand, but I belong to Him. I know He’s good. I can be content with that.”
She was definitely important.
Kasia stared outside, still and silent.
Zan couldn’t comment. It wasn’t that he was at a loss for words. He had too much to say, but it didn’t feel like the right time to correct her on the “important” thing, no matter how wrong she was. He bit the inside of his cheek, tried to find a place to launch. “You remind me of my sister.”
“Oh? In what way?”
Yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to say everything on that subject. “The way you love God.”
That got her to smile.
They made it to the Chinese take-out place and back in fifteen minutes, and Zan parked at the back of her lot. “Smells great, doesn’t it? I’m famished.”
She didn’t answer. Pale as the moon, she hugged herself and stared out the window.
“What’s wrong?”
“The black sports car in the corner, right beside the sidewalk. It’s Blake.”
“D’you want me to make him leave?”
Her voice was a weak whisper. “I don’t know.”
“Are you all right walking past him?”
“What if he says something?”
“Kasia?” Zan whispered. He touched her arm and wondered if that was all right. “I’ll be right there. Between you and Blake. If he does anything or says anything, I’ll handle it.”
She turned to face him and searched his eyes. Whatever she was looking for, she found. With a blank expression, she picked up the bag of take-out and nodded, climbing out.
Zan walked around to meet her, moved to her side. “Let’s go.”
They walked toward the apartments. Toward Blake. About ten yards from Blake’s car, the driver’s door opened, and Blake stood, rested his hands on the roof. Zan swallowed. He’d expected Blake to stay in the car.
Kasia hooked her hand around Zan’s bicep and stared straight at the sidewalk.
“Behind me,” Zan whispered. “Stay there.”
Kasia slowed a step, but her hand stayed locked on his muscle.
“Problem?” Zan asked, his voice steady but full of warning. He didn’t need Blake angry. He locked eyes with Blake, tightened his jaw and fist at the same time. Narrowed his gaze and stared the guy down. All he wanted Blake to see was that he would intercept anything he threw at Kasia.
And Blake would pay for it.
One yard out, Blake lost the staring contest.
That’s what I thought. Zan allowed himself a smirk at the loser’s expense, pulled Kasia to his side. “Walk in front of me now.” She did, and Zan kept his hand at her back.
One yard past, Kasia let out her breath with a shudder.
“How are you doing?” Zan asked softly. He could still feel Blake’s gaze on them.
“Fine.”
Yesterday that answer hadn’t satisfied him either.
They walked slowly—deliberately—to the building, up the steps, into the apartment.
As soon as the door closed, Kasia grabbed him around the waist with such desperation she all but knocked him into the wall. Cautiously, he closed the embrace, held her until her breathing evened out and her grip relaxed. He leaned against the wall, waited for her to speak first.
But she didn’t. Even once the tension had drained, she held on to him.
“I know you don’t know me well yet, but I’m here—however, whenever you need me. All right?”
She nodded against his chest and whispered. “I like this spot. I don’t know why, but I feel safe here.”
“You can stand here any time you like.” God help him. He didn’t trust himself at the moment. He needed to step away.
“Oh no.”
“What?” he whispered.
“I think I broke the chicken.” The bag of Chinese food was on the floor, and an orangey-red sauce pooled out of a corner of the bag.
He reached down and picked it up. “Let’s check the damage. But I vote for making A.J. and Jayce go out if we need a replacement.”
She nodded. “Me too.”
28
Friday afternoon, drumsticks played a tattoo on their front door.
Jayce. Maybe Zan too.
Kasia leaned her guitar against the bookcase, content, hopeful. Coraz lepiej. Fingerpicking—playing at all—was getting better, easier, all the time. Alone, she worshipped through song, her fingers and voice in full cooperation. Finally. Even if she could only play familiar songs, any progress satisfied.
She’d compose again.
One day.
She opened the door.
“All right, ladies! Zander and I have decided we must participate in the homecom
ing festivities. Bare minimum, the bonfire tonight.” Jayce, the king of laid-back, had a bounce in his step.
Good. Kasia wanted to hear the music. Kyle had promised a great show.
“I thought we’d decided to avoid the crowd and watch a movie,” A.J. strode out of her room.
Zan closed the door behind Jayce and raised a plastic grocery bag over his head. “This wasn’t part of the equation until now.”
“What’s in the bag?”
“S’mores stuff.” Jayce counted off, drumsticks in the air. He played a drum solo on every piece of furniture within his reach.
“Are we going early enough for the concert?” Kasia asked. “Kyle said he’s got a killer lineup before the bonfire. Nick Flora, Green River Ordinance…”
Zan stuck a hand in his hair and messed it all up. She loved that for some reason. When he caught her looking, he grinned. “Unless y’all want to go to the Warehouse for dinner first,” he said. “I haven’t been there in a while, and I’m craving some excellent java and a meatball sandwich.”
“Mm, but I do want to get back in time to see some of the show if we can. The Beggars’ Guild plays first. They don’t play together much anymore.”
“I’ll call in our order so we can pick it up and have dinner in my CJ. Best seats in the house.”
Could the night get better than that?
Kasia packed Tatuś’s hoodie and blanket in her backpack while A.J. grabbed a jacket. Mountain autumn had come to stay.
The four of them ate dinner in the stadium lot, serenaded by Nick Flora. The brisk night air was full of change. Kasia’s stomach knotted into a ball of solid anticipation, and she found it hard not to shiver. Especially when Zan looked at her. With eyes like the Andean sky.
Maybe it was time to get up and walk around. “Let’s go over by the fire.”
Clusters of students milled around near the parking lot.
Their group stuck together as they wound their way through the crowd, but the throng of people near the stage was pretty impenetrable.
Kasia’s neck prickled. She searched the sea of faces for Blake’s but couldn’t spot him. She moved a step closer to Zan.
He leaned down. “You all right?”
“I think Blake’s out here somewhere.”
“He won’t bother you if you’re with me.”
His confidence was a warm blanket. “Thanks.”
She noticed Kyle under a tent at the big soundboard and waved.
~*~
Zan blew out a breath. Kyle.
All four of them were headed straight toward him, but Kyle’s eyes were all for Kasia. By the time they made it over to him, he still hadn’t taken his eyes off her.
“Hey, Kyle,” Zan interrupted. “How’s it going?”
“Decent.” He finally tore his eyes away. “You?”
“Same.”
The conversation remained stilted and awkward for way too long. When music came up, though, everyone loosened up. Kasia knew The Gray Havens, Waterdeep, Christopher Williams, Andrew Greer—a lot of the bands Kyle mentioned—and a lot about the local concert venues.
Zan knew nothing. Except that he loved Kasia’s passion when she talked music or Peru. Her eyes came alive, and her smile lit up.
“If we don’t get in there and claim a spot, I’m gonna have to make these s’mores Southie style. With a burn barrel and coat hanger.”
A.J. smacked Jayce’s arm.
“What? Bonfires are frowned upon—would be if anyone had a yard anyways.”
“I’ll go to see if one of the other guys will give me thirty minutes to hang with you,” Kyle said. “Nicholas and a few others from small group are around too.”
“I’ll text them and tell them where we are,” A.J. said.
They made their way fireside and pulled out the bag. Their Bible study friends found them, and they claimed a good slice of ground. Zan didn’t let Kasia get too far from him, but there was the Kyle factor. Neither of them had any right to claim the spot at her side as their own, but they both wanted it. That much was obvious.
Rather than compete, Zan hung back as the small group connected, and he occupied his time getting to know Nicholas and a few other guys—always keeping an eye out for Blake.
Just in case.
Every so often, he caught Kasia straightening up and scanning the mob. Kyle noticed and stepped closer. But Kasia went into stealth mode each time, moving away from Kyle and closer to Zan.
Zan stood a little taller in those moments. Not that he would be a punk about it.
Kasia nudged him. “Feel like roasting some marshmallows with me?”
“Absolutely.”
“You hold the hanger. I’ll skewer the little suckers.” And skewer she did. In record time. She licked the sticky off her fingers and shrugged. “Sorry. I know that’s gross.”
Zan squatted down and opened up the chocolate bar, breaking it in pieces. When the first marshmallows came out of the fire, Kasia held the hanger down, and he used the grahams and chocolate to slide them off. “You try first.”
She bit into hers, and her eyes fluttered shut.
He looked away for a second.
“Are you going to try yours, Zan?” she asked. “Przepyszny.”
He hoped it was as good as she made it look, because all he could think about was the dot of chocolate right beside her lip. And he did not need to be going there. “What’s that mean?” He bit into the graham crackers.
“Better than delicious. I can never get enough melty chocolate.” Her smile was sweeter than the chocolate though. “Oh, you’ve got”—she reached up and, with the tip of a finger, wiped his cheek, and Zan felt it inside. Like a shockwave—“some chocolate.”
She tugged a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her finger on it.
“Thanks.”
She held out the hanger again. Time to skewer some more.
“Hey, Kasia. Have you checked out the new Josh Garrels studio project?” Kyle asked.
Zan had almost forgotten he was there.
“It’s incredible. He’s such a poet—and I love that he does so much with humanitarian projects.” She pulled her hair back, tied it in some kind of adorable knot.
“Do you have a favorite album?” Kyle asked.
“Can’t pick.” She positioned their marshmallow-kabob over the outermost flames.
“He’s going to be at Escape to the Lake this year—you know about that?”
“Yeah? I’d love to get there some year. Love everything Under the Radar does.”
Zan had no idea what they were talking about, so he decided he’d find Jayce and reload their graham-cracker-and-chocolate cache. Kyle had finally gotten her attention. He deserved to enjoy it.
~*~
Whew, it was warm. Kasia pulled the marshmallows back and tapped them. Not done yet.
“Kyle!” Nicholas called. “Come let me introduce you to somebody.”
He turned to her. “You good with me going a minute?”
She nodded. Kyle ducked back into the crowd, and Kasia pulled out her marshmallows, leaning back to see if she could spot Zan. They needed to make their s’mores before the mallows got cold.
Ow! She sucked in a breath and her hand flew to her neck as her eyes locked onto the flames, stunned. Had a spark hit her? She pulled her hand back and saw blood. Her eyes skimmed the faces around the edge of the fire.
That’s when she saw him. A satisfied smile twisted his mouth as he stepped backward into the throng, blended in. Disappeared.
Her insides turned to ice, and everything went black.
29
Ugh. Kasia’s head swam and throbbed, swam and throbbed.
“Kasia? Can you hear me?” That was A.J.’s voice, right? “Open your eyes.”
She tried for a split second, but her head ached, the pain constant and awful. “Too bright.”
Footsteps, then Jayce’s voice. “Kyle, get on the mic. Find a doctor.”
More voices, and then a thud beside her. �
��Kasia. It’s Zan. Can you look at me?”
“It’s too bright,” A.J. said for her.
“Here,” he said. “Try now.” His voice had moved in front of her.
Her head still pounded, but maybe whatever Zan had done worked. Scrunching up her face, she cracked one eye a slit. It was better. She opened her eyes and found A.J. kneeling right beside her head, holding her hand.
“What happened?” Zan asked. Kasia tried to make out the dark mass in front of her. It sounded like Zan, but what in the world was he doing?
“Do you think you can sit up?” A.J. asked.
“Probably, but that doesn’t mean I want to.” Seriously.
“We shouldn’t move her until somebody checks her out anyway,” Zan said. He turned and shouted into the crowd, “Where are we on finding a doctor?”
That’s when she figured out why Zan’s voice was shrouded in darkness, why it blocked out the too-bright flames. He knelt, spread his sweatshirt out behind his head, giving her a shadow to hide in. Good thing they were next to the fire. He’d freeze in just that T-shirt.
“I’m a paramedic,” somebody said. He rushed over.
“Good.” Kyle’s voice was right behind the blur of the paramedic.
The guy immediately started hounding her with a penlight. She couldn’t tell if he preferred the interrogating or the poking and prodding more. He never asked the right question though.
“Blake.”
“What?” Zan snapped.
A.J. leaned down. “You saw him? Here?”
Her head swam for a second. She breathed deep. Equilibrium slowly returned.
“Something hit my neck, and I…I don’t know why I fell.” Unless it was possible to collapse from sheer shock and disbelief. She’d never expected Blake to actually hurt her. He’d always made empty threats. But this…
“Let’s have a look, all right?”
Soft, cold fingers gently turned her head. Penlight whistled. And Zan swore. The fire suddenly brightened. Zan was still there, but he wasn’t holding his shirt up.
“Kosh.” A.J.’s voice was too whispery.
Kyle and Jayce mumbled something to each other, and Kasia didn’t like their tone. Her vision was still blurry.
Strains of Silence Page 21
