Tying the Knot (18 page)

He wore a quirky smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Was he . . . flirting with her? She fought to steady her voice before reading the next direction. “Now stop and pick up the ribbon at your feet.”

He obeyed and stuffed the marker in his pocket. “Now what?”

“Go forward until I say stop. But go slowly. There are a few dips in the yard that may trip you up. Just keep one foot in front of the other and you’ll get to the other side. If you start to trip, reach out and I’ll steady you.”

He paused, and the slight smile, full of tease, on his blindfolded face made her blush.

“Sweeter words were never spoken,” he said softly.

12

Anne didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She sat before the campfire, stirring a blackened-end stick through the embers, trying to sort out a stew of feelings.

Was Noah truly after her heart or was she just a smitten fool? She tottered dangerously close to falling for his charm, and if she didn’t find her footing soon, she’d fall hard for a guy who could rip out her heart.

Had she learned nothing last week or during her entire childhood? Guys who looked dangerous
probably were
.

Anne pushed over a smoldering log, and sparks spiraled into the velvet night. The stars blinked at her, and the moon split the lake into two dark, ominous halves. She couldn’t deny the swell of joy that had gathered over her the past three days, and it scared her more than she wanted to admit. Had she dreamed his rude rebuff a week ago? Perhaps that had been a nightmare, a residue from her own fears, imagined by a heart that assumed the worst about a man who looked like a phantom from her past.

Yes, Noah had danger on the fringes of his exuberant personality. His zest for life suggested he wasn’t afraid to face it head-on, something she couldn’t seem to embrace. She’d learned quickly in her graffiti-scrawled school halls that evasion had its merits. Noah had once accused her of trying to run from her fears, but she considered it tactical survival. Why fan the fires of terror when you can hold on to dignity and live in peace?

She had to admire, however, the way Noah dove into each situation, unafraid of the problems under the surface. He lived with a passion that made her want to hang on for the ride. She could admit that she moved like molasses into the unknown . . . but didn’t she have good reasons? A bullet scar the size of a fist was the first one.

Then again, there weren’t any gun-wielding drug addicts in Deep Haven, and she should stop evoking villains. Especially when they fit the description of uncanny hero.

She chuckled to herself. She hadn’t dredged up the heart-stopping hero of that hot June day over a week ago when she met Noah. That unnamed tenor who had held her hand and carried her through the darkness on a song had set the bar for her standards. But that man—whoever he was, wherever he was—was history, and Noah, the resident hero in camouflage, was present, seemingly available . . . and if she read his emotional signals correctly, enjoying her company.

Or she could be imagining his flirting, or worse, misinterpreting it for something else. Like bribery to keep her on his good side. To keep his dreams alive.

At the cost of her heart.

She drew a deep breath of night air, battling a voice inside that fed on her fears.

Now that made perfect sense. Mr. Mercenary Bear had shifted the charm into overdrive for one reason—self-preservation. If she walked, his camp was finished. Anne closed her eyes.

Why, oh why, couldn’t God give her a break? She seemed to be continually walking into ambush—physically, emotionally, spiritually. A loving God might put up a few road signs like Warning: Steep Grade, Beware of Tumble into Heartache, Blind Intersection Ahead, or Duck the Gun-Wielding Druggies.

She hugged her waist, feeling again the burn of a bullet tearing through her body. Tears pricked her eyes.
Please, God, guard my heart.
The feeble prayer felt hollow as she mouthed it. Who was she kidding? God had betrayed her, and she’d have to possess more than a few loose screws to ever fling herself in His hands again. Bitterness welled in her chest. Wasn’t the Christian life about His love, His protection? She didn’t want to feel this way. She loved God, at least she wanted to. It wasn’t her fault she’d been shot, but her faith didn’t need to come crashing in around her.

In truth, she longed to have the naive trust that surrounded her mother and her sister. They’d never had life bludgeon them and certainly had never seen their beliefs in a safe God blow up in their faces. All their platitudes about God’s grace being sufficient made her ill inside.

Like they knew what it felt like to be drop-kicked by God.

Anne tightened her jaw, tears washing down her cheeks. To add horror to the moment, she heard Bertha trot down the hill from the lodge, her dog collar clinking in warning. And ten steps behind her came the thump of boots. It would have to be Noah. Bertha worshiped the man.

The big dog ran up to Anne. She dropped her stick and buried her face in Bertha’s fur, wiping the betraying tears. The last thing she needed was for Noah to see her scars. She wrapped her arms around herself, a physical barrier to the wounds inside.

“Beautiful night.” Noah’s voice always sounded like a melody sung in a rich tenor.

Anne swallowed her emotions, still raw and dangerously close to the surface. Noah stood beside her for a moment. When she looked up at him, he wasn’t staring at the sky but down at her. She smiled, hoping to deflect his curiosity.

He was a devastatingly gorgeous addition to the nightscape. The moonlight softened his unruly hair and silhouetted his stature, a formidable presence against the darkness. She couldn’t help but be drawn in by his raw strength and dependable smile. By his wide hands that had felt like velvet on her arms as he led her around camp the first day. The memory suddenly made her wince.
He was using her.
Why did she lose her grip on that thought the second he entered her airspace?

“Can I sit beside you?”

She nodded, furious at her weakness. An intelligent woman with a master’s in community nursing would jump to her feet and flee.

“I think it might be better if you moved up here so you can be with the campers 24/7. Besides, I worry about you driving home in the dark every night.”

He tucked his hands between his knees and stretched his long legs in front of him. She noticed the rip in his fatigues and their fraying gathered hem. He’d obviously taken a dip in the lake after dinner, for his hair smelled of soap, and his redolence of soft leather and strong masculinity softened her raw nerves. How she longed to surrender to his larger-than-life personality.

And now he was worried about her? Against her will, his words embraced her.

“Bertha would like to stay here. She’s smitten with you.” Anne watched the dog, settled at Noah’s feet. As if in response, the Saint Bernard raised her head.

Noah rubbed her behind one ear. “Of course. She loves me for my depth and understanding.”

“And because you give her table scraps.”

“I could give you table scraps . . .” When he looked at her like that, she could barely remember to breathe let alone stay angry at him.

“I don’t know. I think my stomach would rot on your diet. Snickers bars for breakfast? Fried pork rinds for lunch?” She made a face.

He put on a shocked expression. “Listen Miss Fruit-and-Nuts, one can’t live on rabbit food entirely. A real man needs protein, calcium, and carbohydrates. A Snickers bar is the perfect meal.” He nudged her, waggled those eyebrows, and she knew she was a goner.

So maybe she’d let irrational fear manhandle her. Hadn’t Noah, only a week ago, told her that he didn’t want her here? Even before that, he’d let her off the hook, told her to make her own decisions. That didn’t sound like a man who was using her as live bait.

“Maybe I could move tomorrow. I have a meeting with Dr. Simpson in the morning; then I’ll haul up some gear in the afternoon. How does that sound?”

Noah looked over at her with a grin that turned her heart to mush. “Wonderful.”

Across the lake, the loons began their nightly serenade. Anne sat in silence, arms wrapped around her knees, cementing the idea that she’d been inventing suspicion. Noah had given her choices, and she’d embraced them without extortion. His recent attention had to be based on pure attraction. She let that thought push a giddy smile onto her face.

He turned toward her and his gaze roamed her face. “I’m so glad you’ve joined our staff. We couldn’t do it without you.”

Anne felt sucker punched. Her stupid smile froze, and she pinched back a howl, wanting to curl into the fetal position and hide. Her suspicions had been dead-on. He wasn’t interested in her but in her presence on staff, her ability to bring in the bucks. She broke his look.
Don’t cry!

A loon called, the sound forlorn as it echoed across the water.

“The kids arrive on Friday afternoon,” he said, totally unaware that he had the power to break her heart with a single comment. “Are you ready?”

Anne struggled to brace herself, to wind her emotions back into her constricting chest. She had to toughen up. Hadn’t past experience told her that men only used the women in their lives? Noah may have a few manners and a heart-stopping tenor voice, but at his core he was a hoodlum. She took a deep breath and dredged up small talk. “Sure.”
C’mon, Noah, how hard could a bunch of church kids be?

“It’s going to be a great summer. God gave us an incredible staff—all of them have such a heart for kids. And with your medical expertise, I’m sure everyone will be safe and healthy. You’re really a godsend, Anne.”

With each word, she winced. But she couldn’t blame heaven. She’d walked into this one herself. She’d pledged to avoid Noah and his heartbreaking magic like the plague, but inside she’d run full speed ahead, arms outstretched like a kid at Christmas. She ached from her own stupidity.

Noah went silent, his face to the sky, as if counting stars. Anne wanted to bolt for the hills. She was scraping up the courage to grab her dog and run when he turned to her again.

His eyes glistened. “You know, I’m not a great man. I just have great dreams. God put those dreams in my heart. Whenever I am overwhelmed by them and the magnitude of the task, He gently reminds me that He is supplying everything I need.” His voice turned thick. “But you are definitely more than I expected.”

Moisture caught in his dark lashes, and the look in his sweet eyes made her chin tremble. Suddenly, idiotic tears filled her eyes. “I am?”

His tender smile eliminated her every accusation as a tear ran down her cheek. He cupped her face and rubbed the tear away with his thumb. “You’re a gift that reminds me that I’m loved by God.”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out, knitted as they were in a wild mesh of foolish hopes.

Then his gaze studied her face, touching her eyes, her nose and landing on her lips. “Anne . . . I . . .” His voice had turned . . . strangely hoarse. “Can I . . . ?”

She nodded before he could finish speaking. If she had any doubts about his question, they were gloriously erased as he kissed her sweetly, with impossible tenderness. It lasted only a moment, but she felt her heart sprout wings and soar.

“Anne,” he whispered as he pulled away, his forehead against hers, “I know I coerced you into working here, but I’m so glad you agreed.”

This time, she took no offense at his words. “Me too.”

Bertha sighed at his feet—a long, contented benediction to her thoughts.

“I’d better go,” Anne said.

Noah nodded and took her hand. “You’ll be back tomorrow.”

It was more a statement than a question, a resolution that shored up their fledgling relationship.

“Absolutely.”

Noah remained at the edge of the fire pit, watching the embers die, staring occasionally at the sky as if in silent hallelujah. The wind shifted, carrying with it the last chilly fragment of air and the voices of the night. A cricket spun a melody not far from shore, and even his heart seemed to beat a rhythm that sounded like a ballad.

He couldn’t wipe the euphoric grin off his face.

And he was definitely going to ignore the monster inside him that demanded to know why he was kissing Anne Lundstrom as if they had tomorrows on their horizon.

Then his euphoria took a nosedive. He knew better. Noah had no business cultivating their hopes and dreams. Even if his camp turned out to be a success, come August he was heading south. Back home to Minneapolis.

Anne made it abundantly clear that she intended to plant roots in Deep Haven. Theirs was far from a match made in heaven. He’d been drawn in by her smile, those luminous eyes shimmering with tears, those tentative soft lips. He’d wanted to pull her close, deepen his kiss, show her she already had his heart.

But what was he doing, giving away something that didn’t belong to him? God had his heart first. And He would have to give Noah permission to share it. So far, the only way that would happen was if Anne Lundstrom about-faced and followed him back home. To the Phillips neighborhood.