Catching Serenity (50 page)

CHAPTER 2

Lexa’s heart thundered in her chest. This was just great. She’d traveled to San Antonio only to come under attack on the way to the TeamWork camp. Surely, her life wouldn’t end this way. First, she needed to
find
her life. Then, she’d take it from there.

It wasn’t like she was the damsel in a stagecoach, Sam her heroic driver, and a rogue bandit with a sawed-off shotgun lurked on the side of the road. Although it wasn’t the 1800s, it
was
Texas. Lexa darted a quick glance in every direction and blew out a sigh of relief.

“We’ve got a flat.” Sam’s jaw tightened, but his hands on the wheel remained steady as he steered the station wagon to the side of the road. Sure enough, the telltale thump . . . thump . . . thump shook the car everywhere and sent Lexa sliding across the leather seat toward the door. She grabbed onto the inside door handle as the car lurched to the right.

Shutting off the engine, Sam whipped off his sunglasses and tossed them onto the dashboard. A deep frown creased his brow as he looked at his watch. “I can use your help, if you don’t mind.” Without another glance in her direction, he flung open his door.

“I’m coming.” Lexa almost tumbled headfirst out of the car. “Whoa!” Feeling silly, she steadied herself and took a few cautious steps along the uneven pavement as she cast a wary eye at the remains of the shredded right rear tire.

“We probably hit a nail or broken piece of glass. On this road, anything’s possible.” Sam pulled out a metal contraption Lexa assumed was a jack and knelt down in the dirt beside the car.

“Whatever it was, it did a thorough job on the tire. I need something fairly heavy. There’s a stack of bricks in the back of the car. Please go find one and anchor it against the front tire for me.”

Sam was in full boss mode now, his good humor blown along with that tire. But he said please, and his irritation was understandable, given the heat and humidity. Lexa resisted the urge to salute as she found a brick in quick order and carried it to the front right side.

“This tire?” It was a guess.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

As Sam positioned the jack, Lexa lodged the brick. She was about to offer the use of her premiere auto club card, but he seemed more than capable. Not knowing what else to do, she leaned against the passenger door and watched.

“Please don’t lean against the car.” His exertion surfaced in his voice, but he didn’t stop. Sam lifted the jack up and down with practiced ease, revealing mighty impressive upper arm muscles. Damp ringlets curled at the base of his neck. Even sweaty and covered in dirt, the man looked like he stepped from the pages of some western wear catalog.

“Oh. Sorry.” Lexa wandered to the side of the road. One foot kicked pieces of asphalt, and they skidded a haphazard path across broken pavement. She shielded her eyes with one hand and squinted. Not a cloud in the sky, no breeze stirring, no birds anywhere. Texas backcountry at its best. At least it was daylight.

Sensing he watched, Lexa turned. Sure enough, Sam peered at her from behind the car. His eyes narrowed, and he grunted. “If you’re looking for another ride, it’s not gonna happen out here on this road. Afraid you’d be standing there a few days without seeing another soul. I’ve changed enough tires on this car that I can do it in my sleep. I’ll get us on the road again soon enough.”

He looked pretty sweaty. Maybe she should fan him or something. Hoping it wouldn’t disturb his work, Lexa opened the back door and plucked the police union newsletter from the outside pocket of her suitcase. It was already coming in quite handy on this trip. She moved over to Sam and feverishly fanned the top of his bent head.
Whoosh!

His hands paused their work, and Sam glanced up at her. “I appreciate your efforts to keep me cool, but it’s pretty much a lost cause at this point. What I need most now is the tire iron. It’s in the toolbox in the back.” One brow raised and he swiped a hand across his forehead. “Interesting reading material. Are you an undercover cop in your spare time?” Sam’s tone was teasing and implied he didn’t believe it for a second.

“My dad was.” Lexa folded and tucked the newsletter in her pocket. Poking around in the toolbox a few seconds later, she hoped she’d recognize the tire iron. If only her dad allowed her to help with his projects, maybe she’d know what it looked like. It wasn’t like they routinely taught girls these things in school.

“Is there a problem?”

Lexa peeked around the corner of the car. “Um, which thing is the tire iron, exactly?”

“I’ll get it.” Removing the hub cap, Sam lowered it to the ground. Rising to his imposing height, he dusted his hands together and headed her way.

“Is it this thing?” When she pulled out the tool, it was heavier than she anticipated and her hands were clammy from all the humidity. Lexa watched in horror as it flew out of her grasp and slammed against Sam’s denim-clad lower legs. It fell with a heavy thud in the dirt between his boots.               Wary of another coughing attack, Lexa waved her hand in front of her face. She trained her eyes on the ground, afraid to meet his eyes. She hoped he wouldn’t bark like her dad when she tried to help.

“Yep. That’s it.” He didn’t even flinch as a small cloud of dust swirled around them. Sam’s voice sounded tight with frustration. Crouching down, he retrieved the tire iron.

“I’m so . . . sorry?” Lexa finally dared to look up at him, one hand covering her mouth, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Surely he understood it was an accident. She wished his smile would return. She liked it a whole lot better.

Sam’s hands found his hips. “Miss Clarke . . .” The words were slow and measured. “I’m sure you understand we’re going to be using tools for the next eight weeks.” Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his damp hair. “Never mind. I’m sure I can find a way for you to help us out at the worksite.” The encouraging signs of another grin tipped the corners of his mouth. “I suspect something with numbers or measuring things might be best.”

Lexa tried her best to look him straight in the eye. It was rather difficult. When Sam lowered his head, she captured his gaze, holding it steady. The hint of a twinkle in those blue eyes surprised her. “I’m a fast learner. Give me something to do so I can help you.”

Sam nodded, but he looked dubious. “Okay. I know just the thing.”

~~**~~

Standing beside him, Lexa clutched the lug nuts in her tight fists, her expression a study in agitation. Stubborn as all get out, this one. No doubt irritated all he’d asked her to do was hand him lug nuts. But, it was all he needed if they were going to make it to the camp anytime soon.

Sam glanced at her impractical shoes and swallowed his grin. One foot tapped a steady rhythm, kicking up dirt. With her fancy clothes, Lexa looked more prepared to board a cruise ship than build houses. Even with those ridiculous shoes boosting her height, she still couldn’t be any taller than five-foot-three, give or take an inch.

He stole another look as he worked. In odd contrast to the way she was dressed and those pink nails peeking at him beneath her shoe strap, Lexa was one of the most
natural
women he’d seen in a long time. His eyes followed the long, blonde braid down almost to her waist. That wasn’t something you normally saw outside of a farm in the Midwest. Most career women couldn’t be bothered. Fascinating.

A trail of faint freckles peppered her nose and sprinkled across her upper cheeks. Her features and that pleasing drawl held an inherent sweetness, an innocence all too rare. Guys would line up around the block for a woman like Lexa. But she gave off signals she wasn’t interested. Even though he noticed, he wasn’t
looking
. Big distinction. The two of them should get along just fine.

Once he was certain the new tire was secure, Sam repositioned the hub cap. “I hope you brought a pair of sturdy work boots. Especially out at the worksite, you don’t want anything falling on those dainty toes.”

If it was possible, Lexa’s foot shifted into overdrive. “I hope that’s not a crack because I hit you. I assure you, it was completely an accident.” She sniffed and turned her head the other way. “For the record, I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

Bless her heart, she sounded genuinely remorseful.

“Relax. It was simply an observation. And stop tapping your foot. You’re stirring up trouble . . . I mean dust.” Freudian slip. “Besides, I thought women liked being called dainty.” Sam shot another glance at the tiniest feet he’d ever seen on a woman. “Those little wedgie shoes of yours aren’t exactly practical for a work camp.”

A pink flush slowly crept into her cheeks. It was gratifying to see a modern woman could still blush. “I brought steel-toed work boots, yes. And it’s called a wedge heel, thank you very much. Not a wedgie. That’s something else entirely.” Her unexpected smile revealed a glimpse of the humor hidden behind that defensive façade. When she wasn’t tight as a knot, Lexa Clarke was incredibly pretty.

Shrugging his shoulders, Sam gave her a half-grin. “Wrench, please.” He held out his hand, waiting.

“Did you just call me a wench?” Lexa’s voice rose, and the smile faded.

Sam laughed outright. Communicating with this volunteer might prove a challenge in itself. “Of course not. Careful, Miss Clarke. Your hackles are showing. I think that particular term went out with the Middle Ages and is only used at Renaissance Fairs. I simply asked for the
wrench
. Since the tire iron proved a bit unwieldy, I thought maybe I’d use the wrench this time. You
do
know what . . .”

“Of course, I do.” Lexa darted to the back and returned in five seconds flat. Without another word, she handed him the wrench. Her look of self-satisfaction said it all. He wouldn’t bother telling her he meant the bigger wrench. He could make do. For a brief second, Sam wondered what her hair looked like loose and flowing. He averted his gaze. Now she really
was
stirring up trouble, but trouble of an entirely different nature. The kind he was trying hard to ignore and avoid.

Giving each lug nut a solid, full turn to make sure they were equally tight, he lowered the car to the ground and removed the jack. “That should do it.” He checked the tire one last time, satisfied it was secure. “We’d better get moving. We’re already behind schedule.” He gathered the old tire and tools and piled them into the back of the car.

Not waiting, Lexa flung the door wide and climbed back in the car. It was a surprise when she leaned across the seat and pushed his door open. “I’m sorry if picking me up at the bus station put you behind schedule. I could have just flown in on an airplane like a normal person and grabbed a taxi to the camp.”

Easing behind the wheel again, Sam replaced his sunglasses and decided to ignore the normal person comment. From the fancy suitcase and clothes to her overall demeanor, Lexa seemed pretty pampered. Maybe the humidity made her irritable. It had that effect on a lot of women. He hoped she’d get used to it sooner than later or he’d be better off to steer clear. A narrow line between her brows surfaced and she crossed her arms.

Starting the engine, Sam pondered her comment. He cleared his throat, searching for something to say that might not offend her. “First of all, I would have opened the door for you.”

Judging by her deepening frown, that wasn’t the best comment. He pulled out on the road again and avoided looking at his watch.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your gentlemanly, old-fashioned chivalry, but I thought it’d get us on the road quicker if I’m self-sufficient and don’t stand on ceremony.”

“And also for the record, picking you up at the bus station didn’t put us behind. It’s more the matter of a nail in the road causing a flat tire. And no way would a taxi driver be able to find his way to the camp. All roads definitely do not lead to the TeamWork camp. Let’s just say it’s the road less-traveled.” Lexa kept her eyes trained out the window as if there was actually something to see, but Sam could tell she listened. “If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that God always knows what He’s doing.”

“Are you saying God made the tire go flat?” Her tone sounded more curious than defensive as she turned to look at him again.

“No. I’m saying He allowed it to happen. He has His reasons. It’s up to us to try and figure out what He’s trying to tell us.” Wow, that sounded high-handed. Lexa met his gaze before lowering her lids. The luminous, blue-green color of those eyes reminded him of the Mediterranean. He’d flown over it enough times to appreciate the beauty of the sunlight reflected in its waves.

A vision of eyes similar in clarity and brilliance still haunted him, but Sam pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He had a job to do, houses to build. But mental fortitude couldn’t prove a match for the sudden pumping of his heart. This woman might prove to be trouble in more ways than one.
Texas-sized
trouble.

Lexa Clarke intrigued him whether he liked it or not. As he drove them closer to the TeamWork camp, Sam resolved to keep his thoughts occupied with something other than the fascination sitting beside him on the front seat.

End of Sample

Awakening
~~*~~