Sierra Jensen Collection, Vol 2

by Robin Jones Gunn

  Sierra’s heart went out to Tre. He was perspiring and looked as if he would rather have his toenails lit on fire than have to stand in front of everyone.

  “I went to the Highland House,” he began, trembling and swallowing hard. “I helped with the children, and I played the guitar. I learned about the prodigal son.”

  He seemed to have difficulty saying “prodigal,” and once again Sierra wished she hadn’t picked that story. It was certainly too difficult for the children to understand.

  “I know about the pigs,” Tre continued. A ripple of laughter moved through the classroom. “I don’t want to have that life, so I made a choice at the Highland House to come back to the Father God, who is waiting for me.”

  It was completely still for a moment, as everyone tried to absorb what he had said.

  Mr. Rykert stepped closer to Tre and said, “Are you saying you made a decision to turn your life over to God?”

  Tre nodded. His expression seemed to relax as he said, “My friends showed me Jesus.” Glancing first at Sierra and then at Randy, he added, “And I wanted to know Him, too.”

  Sierra looked over her shoulder at Randy. His mouth was open, and his eyes crinkled in surprise. Turning back to meet Tre’s gaze, Sierra felt the tears rushing to her eyes, demanding to be released.

  Tre a Christian?! The prodigal story and those silly pigs made sense to him? I don’t believe it What a God-thing!

  Mr. Rykert appeared to be choked up. He stood beside Tre and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’d like to pray for you, son.” And pray he did—rich, meaningful words of thanks to God.

  The dismissal bell rang before Mr. Rykert finished praying. Everyone waited. Mr. Rykert said, “Amen.” Instead of rushing out to class, most of the students went up front to say something to Tre. He seemed surprised and a bit confused by all the attention.

  “That was close,” Vicki said as she, Amy, and Sierra exited the room. “I was supposed to give my report after Tre. How do you follow that?”

  “He didn’t say all that just to get a good grade,” Amy said.

  “I know,” Vicki said. “I was making a little joke. Relax.” She turned to Sierra and said, “Are you and Randy going to the concert on Saturday?”

  “Randy said something about it. I’d love to go even if he doesn’t want to. Do you want to go with us, Amy?”

  “I’m supposed to start working at my uncle’s on Saturday. And what about our lobster dinner?” Amy said with a pout. “Are we going to move that back a week?”

  “How about moving it back two weeks?” Sierra suggested. “I’d really like to go to this concert.”

  “I have extra tickets if you want to buy one from me,” Vicki said. “I’m going with Mike. You and Randy can double with us if you want.”

  For the first time, it hit Sierra that other people thought of her and Randy as a couple, not just buddies. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  MOM MADE MEAT LOAF for the Friday night dinner, and the house filled with the scent of it as it baked alongside a dozen fat potatoes. Salad, green beans, homemade soda bread, and an apple crisp with vanilla ice cream completed the menu. In Sierra’s opinion, it was perfect.

  At five-thirty, Sierra was still deciding what to wear. This was probably the biggest wardrobe decision she had ever had to make. And for the first time, Tawni seemed to understand what Sierra was going through.

  “I think you should wear the skirt with the embroidered vest,” Tawni said. “It’s a nice, soft look, but not out of character for you.”

  “I don’t know,” Sierra said, eyeing five potential outfits laid out on her bed. “That’s what I had on the day he saw me walking home in the rain with the armful of daffodils. I looked like a drowned rat,” Sierra said.

  “Is that why Jeremy says Paul called you the Daffodil Queen?”

  Sierra nodded, remembering only too well the teasing letter Paul had sent her after that frustrating experience. “Are you sure this gauze dress wouldn’t be better?” She held up a long, cream-colored peasant dress. “With lots of beads?”

  Tawni shook her head. “You look better with a little color by your face. That gauze dress looks like a nightgown. Trust me. Go with the vest and skirt. You can still wear all your little beads if you want.”

  Sierra gave in, knowing her sister was right. This was probably her favorite outfit of the batch.

  Tawni wore a light blue skirt and jacket, which she had worn to work that morning. Today had been her last day. Her transfer went through to the San Diego Nordstrom’s, and she would be moving within a week—two weeks at the most. The crazy thing was, for the first time in their lives, Tawni and Sierra were enjoying each other’s company. Tawni had even invited Sierra to drive down to Southern California with her and then fly home. Sierra had put off deciding, saying she wanted to make it through finals week and this dinner with Paul.

  Finally, Friday was here. No more papers or reports. Only one more final next week, and then she would be done. In a few minutes, Paul would be in her house, and she would be looking into his eyes. Somehow she would find a way to talk privately with him, and she would tell him how much she cared for him, how intensely she had prayed for him. And then…

  Sierra didn’t know what would happen then. Maybe they would write letters all summer. Maybe there would be a few overseas phone calls. When he returned in the fall, she would be seventeen and a senior. Paul wouldn’t—couldn’t—consider her too young then.

  Slipping on her last bracelet and flopping a handful of curly hair over her shoulder, Sierra took one last look in the antique oval dresser mirror to make sure she hadn’t messed up Tawni’s expert makeup job. The mascara on her lashes was barely noticeable. She had let Tawni put makeup on her only once before. It was the first night Randy had come over. Even on that “first date,” Sierra had been thinking of Paul and wishing he were the one coming to her front door instead of Randy. Tonight her wish was coming true.

  Lightly taking the stairs down to the kitchen, Sierra smiled. She imagined she was glowing. Funny how much more understanding she now had for Tawni and her excitement over Jeremy. It only made the intrigue more inviting knowing that Jeremy and Paul were brothers. Sierra and Tawni now had so much more to share as sisters.

  Just as she fluttered off the last stair, the doorbell rang. Sierra rushed to the door, then stopped and closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath before opening the door to their evening guests.

  “Randy!” she sputtered.

  “Hey, you look nice,” Randy said. Then, with a flash of recollection, he thumped his forehead with the palm of his hand and said, “Oh, yeah, you guys have company tonight.”

  Just then a car pulled up and parked across the street. Sierra bit her lower lip and tried to think fast.

  “Is that them?” Randy said, peering at the guy who emerged from the car wearing jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt. His dark, wavy brown hair was combed off his broad forehead, and in his hand he held a small bouquet of daffodils. Sierra thought her heart was going to jump right out of her skin and go hopping down the front steps to greet him.

  “Hey, isn’t that Paul?” Randy said. “He’s your company?” Randy’s face took on that twinge of hurt.

  “And his uncle,” Sierra said quickly. “Mr. Mackenzie. Tawni’s boyfriend is Paul’s brother.”

  “Is that right? I didn’t know that. Hey, Paul.” Randy greeted him with a hearty handshake. “How’s it going?” He looked behind him and said, “Isn’t your uncle coming?”

  “He sends his apologies,” Paul said politely, looking at Sierra. “He was short on volunteers tonight to serve dinner at the Highland House. I hope it’s okay that I still came.”

  “Of course!” Sierra said, eyeing the sweet bouquet.

  “These are for Granna Mae,” he said, holding them out.

  “Oh, yes. Of course they are. Come on in.” Sierra took the daffodils and held the door open for Paul. Randy followed him inside. Sierra swallowed
hard, not sure what to do. This would not be the night of her dreams if Randy stayed for dinner, too. And of course he would be invited to stay since a place was already set for Mr. Mackenzie.

  Sierra considered pulling Randy into the study and confiding her deepest dreams and hopes to him. Surely he would understand what a special night this was, and he would graciously leave. Randy would do that for her. She knew he would. If only she could figure out a way to tell him so it wouldn’t hurt his feelings. He seemed to be wearing them on his sleeve lately.

  “Short on volunteers,” Randy said. “I’d be glad to help. Do you think if I went down there, your uncle would be able to come for dinner?”

  Sierra felt like giving Randy a big hug for being so sweet and sensitive to the situation. And she didn’t have to say anything. What a great guy! Now go, Randy. Go.

  “I’m sure he would appreciate the break,” Paul said. “Thanks, Randy.” Then, flashing a glance from Sierra to Randy as if trying to detect the relationship between the two of them, Paul added, “That would be great.”

  “Cool,” Randy said. “I’ll see you guys later.” He looked at Sierra a little longer than necessary, and she wondered if Randy was doing the same thing as Paul, trying to pick up hidden signals.

  “Thanks, Randy,” Sierra said, smiling warmly, but not too warmly. All her best smiles had been saved for Paul. As soon as Randy turned away, Sierra took her best smile out and hung it from her perfect lips like a welcome sign meant only for Paul.

  PAUL MADE A BIG HIT with Sierra’s family, especially Tawni, who kept saying, “You looked just like Jeremy when you said that.”

  “Uncle Mac,” as Paul called his uncle, arrived right as they were sitting down in the large dining room. He couldn’t stop praising Randy, who had come to his rescue. Uncle Mac sat next to Paul, who was seated directly across from Sierra. When her dad motioned for them to hold hands while he prayed, Sierra closed her eyes and wished for all the world she were sitting next to Paul instead of Gavin and Tawni. Then it would be Paul’s stronger hand she was slipping hers into.

  Several times during dinner, Sierra glanced up and thought she caught Paul looking at her. He always looked away, of course. Sierra couldn’t wait until she had a chance to talk with him alone. She still didn’t know how that would work out.

  Granna Mae certainly didn’t hide her affection for the young man. She loved the bouquet of “daffies” he brought her and had placed them in the center of the table.

  Mom and Tawni were serving the apple crisp when Paul turned to Sierra’s dad and quietly said, “I’d like to ask a favor. Actually, Jeremy asked me to do this as a favor for him.”

  “Sure,” Dad said agreeably, without even knowing what it was.

  “Would it be all right with you if I took Tawni and Sierra out for coffee after dinner?”

  Sierra felt her heart immediately take an express elevator up to her throat. What a quaint “courting” approach. She loved it.

  “It’s fine with me if it’s fine with them.”

  Paul looked at Sierra first. She somehow found the composure to suppress her ricocheting emotions and simply smile with a nod. Tawni kept serving, but a mischievous grin seemed to dance across her face.

  The grin remained as the three of them drove off an hour later, heading for downtown Portland.

  “Any place in particular?” Paul asked. “Jeremy said you had a place in mind.”

  Tawni directed Paul across the Burnside Bridge and into the West Portland hills to a tiny coffee shop. They parked on a hill and took a seat inside, at a small round table by the front window where happy red geraniums spilled from the wooden flower box. Only a few other customers gathered in the quiet shop. Sierra felt as if they had been transported to another country.

  “You know what?” Tawni said. Sierra and Paul were seated, but Tawni was still standing. “A couple of shops are still open down the street, and I might not get back over here before I move. So why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll be back in a bit.”

  She disappeared out the door. Sierra was looking down at the place mat, her hands clutching each other under the table. “I think we’ve been set up,” she said quietly.

  Paul didn’t answer, waiting for her to look up and catch his gaze. “It appears so,” he said. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Do you suppose a place like this has herbal teas?” Sierra asked.

  “We can find out.” Paul lifted two fingers and motioned for the waiter.

  In that moment, with Paul’s profile to fill her view, the rich aroma of coffee filling the air, and the mustached waiter approaching them, Sierra believed this was a dream. A lovely jaunt to Paris for a cup of Java on the Champs Èlysees. Only, in this dream, her eyes were open. She didn’t want to close them for fear it would all vanish.

  “Yes, one Black Forest,” Paul said, “and do you have herbal tea?”

  The waiter nodded and returned to the coffee bar.

  “Did you want biscotti or anything?” Paul asked.

  She was pretty sure he was referring to those long, hard cookies she had seen her parents dunk in their coffee. “No, I’m still full from dinner.”

  “Me, too. That was great. You have a wonderful family,” Paul said. “Everything Jeremy said was true.”

  “Oh? And what did Jeremy tell you?”

  “Well,” Paul said, leaning back, “he said you’re a pretty good surfer.”

  Sierra smiled.

  “He also said you’re a strong-hearted individual. But I could have told him that.”

  The waiter returned with a glass mug of coffee for Paul and a round, white teapot with a mug that fit on top. He presented Sierra with a basket of herbal tea bags for her to select from.

  “Oh, and do you have any honey?” Sierra asked as the waiter turned to go.

  “Jeremy also told me you’re quite a prayer warrior.”

  Sierra felt this was the opportunity she had been waiting for. She dipped her bag of wild blackberry tea into the white pot and gathered her practiced phrases. Then she made them all line up and wait on the edge of her lips until the waiter placed the honey in front of her and left.

  “What’s that phrase? ‘The warrior is a child’?” Paul sipped his coffee and looked at Sierra with an expression she recognized only too well. It was the same way Wesley looked at her. An invisible pat on the head. The endearing look big brothers bestow on kid sisters when they do something cute.

  The world seemed to stop. It was as if her breath had suddenly been punched out of her lungs. He thinks I’m a kid—a punk little kid. He’s not thinking any of the romantic things I’m thinking about him.

  This changed everything. No way could she pour out her heart to this guy and tell him how hard and how long she had done battle for him. He wouldn’t care that she had begged God to bring Paul to Himself when he was wandering off.

  “My brother also tells me,” Paul paused, a compassionate smile lingering on his lips, “that you have a crush on me.”

  Now Sierra could barely move. She felt her face heat up like a Roman candle about to explode. Her breath came back, rapid and sharp.

  A crush on you! Is that what you think this is? Me in some puppy-love phase of my young life and you the master, oh so mature and wise? Of all the nerve!

  Now she really didn’t know what to say. Why did Tawni leave her? Had she set this up? Were Tawni and Jeremy trying to make fun of her?

  Resisting the impulse to stand up and dump the table in Paul’s lap, Sierra stared at her hands and made herself prepare her cup of tea. She went about the task slowly, giving herself time to calm down and respond to Paul in a way she could live with. This was the one time she refused to react impulsively, which would only prove his assumptions of her immaturity.

  Paul waited quietly, his hands wrapped around his half-full glass mug.

  “You know…” Sierra said, setting down her spoon and taking a sip of her hot tea. Paul seemed to be hanging on to her words, waiting for her
response. As sweet and mature as could be, Sierra said, “I think God brings different relationships into our lives at different times to teach us different things.” She wanted it to sound profound. It ended up sounding redundant.

  After another sip, she continued, finally looking up, allowing him to see into her tearless eyes. “I wonder if perhaps God brought you and me together for one brief season so that I could learn how God really does answer prayer.”

  Paul seemed startled by her response. He had looked like this before at the airport in London. This obviously was not what he expected her to say.

  “You’re a lot closer to the Lord than you were when we first met,” Sierra suggested.

  “Yes,” Paul said with a nod.

  “And you’re off to Scotland now for the summer to help at your grandfather’s mission. That’s a different direction than you were headed last January.”

  Again Paul had to agree. “I’m going for a year,” he corrected her. “Not just for the summer. I’ll be going to a university in Edinburgh.”

  Something pinched and twisted inside Sierra. Even though he had cut her down to size with his “puppy love” insinuations, the news still touched her somewhere deep inside. Going away for the summer was very different from going away for a year.

  “I hope it goes well for you,” Sierra said, dredging up one of the smiles she had been reserving for Paul only. “I’m just glad our paths crossed when they did.” She was going to add something about them now traveling in different orbits, but it sounded too much like Amy’s sci-fi psychology.

  Leaning forward, Sierra was the one to lightly tap Paul’s forearm this time. Looking through his eyes, right into his soul, she said in a whisper, “God has His mark on you, Paul Mackenzie. He’s going to do something incredible in your life.”

  Paul didn’t move. He continued to hold Sierra’s gaze. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low and husky. The earlier smirking look he wore seemed to have evaporated. “And thanks, too, for all your prayers. Don’t stop.”