Authors: Susan May Warren
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Contemporary, #FICTION / Christian / Romance, #FICTION / Romance / Contemporary
Her words hung in the room, sifted against the hiss of the oxygen being pumped into Darrin’s lungs. God had been there when they’d needed Him yesterday. And the day before . . . as far back as she could recall, every day of her life. Even the day she’d been shot, God had been there in the song and touch of a man she’d grown to love. He had been there as she’d dodged pranksters in school, as she’d struggled to finish her internship, as she’d fought for a new life.
“He’ll rescue you,” she repeated, this time to herself.
Darrin bit his lip. She didn’t comment on the tears streaming down his dark, desperate face. Then he nodded. “If Noah really was the person he says, then I want God to change me too.”
She had returned and made him hope again. Head in her arms, hair splayed out like a halo, his own rescuing angel.
Just in time.
He walked down the hall, his sterile prison, loathing the pinch of antiseptic, the telephone shrilling, death embedding the rose-papered walls.
His death.
But she’d returned, and if he stayed smart, ignored the sneers from the past, he’d be free. Finally. Dues paid.
A rush of desperation rattled through him, shaking out his muscles.
She held the key to his freedom.
He needed her.
Now.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Granny D.’s raspy voice, weary from her wee-morning activities preparing breakfast and packing bag lunches, deciphered Noah’s thoughts.
Noah crossed his arms over his chest and pushed back a wave of regret. Yes, he wanted to do this. Had to do this. Should have done it weeks ago. “Yes.”
He watched as Shelly lugged her duffel bag to the center of the compound and pushed it into the pile of ratty suitcases and army duffel bags. Her shoulders were bowed, and somehow the disappointment on her young face salved the ache in Noah’s chest. At least some of the kids were going to miss this place.
Stepping off the porch, he strode toward Bucko before his emotions could manhandle him. “You sure you can handle driving these kids home?”
Bucko looked as sleep-deprived as Noah felt. Bags of exhaustion hung under his red-streaked eyes. His massive, slumped shoulders betrayed the beating they’d taken yesterday muscling the campers, the canoes, and all the gear back to camp. Noah’s entire staff deserved a long vacation in the tropics or at least in some five-star hotel equipped with a hot tub and sauna. Troopers with a capital
T,
they’d also unpacked their gear and prepared the kids for their trip home.
“Yep.” Bucko slapped Noah’s back; his knees nearly buckled. “Don’t worry, boss. We’ll get them home safely.”
Noah nodded, his chest tight.
Bucko gave him a grim look. “Are you going to the hospital?”
“Later.” Much later, after Anne was long gone. He owed her a debt of gratitude, but he couldn’t face her after all she’d done and tell her it was over.
Wilderness Challenge had folded.
As soon as he could pack his gear, clean the kitchen, take down the tents, and lock up the outfitter’s shack, he was headed to Minneapolis.
Back to his life. The one he should have never left.
Sure, Wilderness Challenge had been a credible idea—on paper and in his mind as he had sat in the Sculpture Garden and dreamed of lives being changed, of street kids bringing home hope from the north woods—but reality was flesh and broken bones and blood.
He noticed George dump his stuff into the pile of baggage and went over to talk to him. George still had a heart of flesh, evidenced by the silent horror of his actions. Thankfully, Bucko kept him close, and the rest of the campers were warned to keep their hands off and mouths shut. Noah still didn’t know what to do with the kid. God had spared Darrin, and now Noah desperately wanted second chances for them all.
“How are you, pal?”
George shrugged, turned away.
“Listen, I’ll see you round, okay?” Noah held out his hand. George stared at it. Noah didn’t comment on the sadness in the kid’s eyes. Slowly George slipped his hand into Noah’s grip and gave him a limp shake. Well, hope had to start somewhere. “Super.”
Latisha stumbled up, under the weight of a duffel bag. “I’m all packed but ain’t goin’ home. Not with my brother in the hospital.” Her jutted chin told Noah she still packed a dangerous amount of attitude.
She’d been sneaking out with George on the sly, something they both admitted to later. Something Noah dearly hoped Darrin would never know.
What other things had been going on behind Noah’s very naive back?
He found a compassionate voice, willing to take some guff from her, knowing she was torn up with guilt. “Latisha, Bucko needs your help with your mother. Keep her calm. Help get her packed. Bucko will bring you both back here in a few days to see Darrin. He’ll be fine, and when I get to the hospital, I’ll have him call home. I’ve already talked to your mother, and she needs you.”
“Just so you know that I’m going to be back.” Her chin began to quiver.
“I’m not going to tell Darrin about you and George.” Noah lowered his voice. “That’s your business.”
The relieved smile she gave him nearly broke his heart.
“I’ll see you in a couple days, okay?”
She nodded. “Thanks, Noah. Until yesterday, it was a great summer.”
He yearned to agree with her. Yes, parts of it had been spectacular—the camaraderie, the Soul Talks, the wonder of the campers as they beheld God’s creation up close and personal. The magic of meeting Anne. Oh yes, it had been the best—and most painful—summer of his life.
As if to remind him of everything he’d lost, Bertha bounded up, followed by three of Ross’s campers. “She’s got my shoe!”
Noah caught the dog’s collar, the momentum nearly ripping off his arm. “Whoa there, honey.” He grabbed the Nike in Bertha’s mouth, wrenched it free, and tossed the slobbery mess to the kid. “Yum.”
The smile the boys returned said Bertha had made a hit. As had Anne. She had been elevated to some kind of superwoman after her EMT save of Darrin. Noah’s heart twisted. Oh, how he wanted to see her dive into these kids’ lives . . . she obviously had the touch. Had the compassion, the kindness, the skill . . .
All she lacked was the guts.
That was something he couldn’t help her with. He would never ever, not in a million painful years, leverage his love to get her to move to Minneapolis with him.
It was better that she never knew how he felt. That he’d wanted her beside him more than he wanted to breathe. But she’d come to Deep Haven to find peace, and he wasn’t about to destroy that by pulling on her heartstrings. Even if he did manage to convince her that she’d be safe, it would only take the first drive-by shooting for her commitment to shatter. No, if he had any hope of Anne in his future, God would have to put her there. Wholly committed. Wholly at peace. Wholly trusting in His grace to be sufficient to conquer her fears.
He wouldn’t hold his breath. Not after scraping open her scars and giving her fears new ammunition. She deserved more than anyone to live a life in a war-free zone.
Noah watched the kids load their belongings into the bus. His heart felt as if it had been bludgeoned.
Katie helped Shelly toss her gear into the back of the bus and hugged the young woman. Tears streaked down Katie’s cheeks. She held Shelly at arm’s length and mouthed, “I’ll call you.”
Noah smiled. So the camp would close. Maybe God had other plans. Still, standing in the middle of his crumpled dreams, Noah fought to see how. “Katie, could you come here?”
Katie winked at Shelly, then sauntered over. “What’s up, boss?”
Noah looked away. “Can you gather up Anne’s stuff and bring it down to the hospital? Take Bertha too.”
Katie narrowed her eyes. “Why? Aren’t you going?”
“Of course.” If he had his druthers, he’d be gunning down the Gunflint Trail right now, not only to check on Darrin but to hand his heart to the woman he loved, beg her to come to Minneapolis to join his lifework. And they’d get about as far as Duluth before he’d come to his senses and realize he was dragging her back to the lions’ den. “I have some things to do at camp first.”
Liar, liar.
Katie’s expression told him she knew exactly what he was thinking. Her silence made him shift, swallow. “What?” he said.
“Tell her yourself.”
“What?” He pursed his lips. Did she read minds too?
“Tell her that you’re quitting. Tell her that, after everything she’s worked for this summer, the camp is cancelled. Kaput. I dare you.”
Noah studied his boots. “Okay, you’re right. I’m a giant coward.” He gritted his teeth. “I don’t want to see her because . . . because if I do, I know I’m going embarrass us both. I want her to come to Minneapolis so badly it hurts. But if I tell her that . . .”
“She’s liable to agree.” Katie nodded. “And, excuse me for being blind, but where’s the tragedy in that?”
“She’s worked for years to move here and start a new life, and she’s never going to—”
“Give it up for a guy like you?”
Ouch. Noah flinched, angry that Katie could read him so easily.
“Listen, Noah, I don’t know what you see when you look in the mirror, but Anne sees a man of honor. A man of courage.”
“You don’t know everything.”
She laughed. “I know what she said. She said she thought you were a great guy. In fact, I’d even guess that she’s in love with you.”
Noah clenched his jaw against a rush of pain.
Thanks, Katie; that’s a big help.
“Anne’s a smart woman,” Katie continued, her voice rising. “Let her decide what she wants to do. If you don’t ask, you’ll never know.”
Noah closed his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t ask.”
Katie sighed. “Then you’ll never know.”
“I know what her answer would be.” Best-case scenario involved tears and heartache. And wouldn’t that be fun for both of them? He ran his hand through his hair. “Please pack her stuff. Take her dog down and tell her . . . tell her good-bye for me.”
If looks could kill, he’d be a smoking pile of cinders.
“Fine. But don’t you ever complain about being alone, because I’ll be around to remind you that you had the woman of your dreams right here, and you blew it.”
26
Shh. She’s sleeping.”
Anne roused at the harsh sibilant sounds and tried to place the voice outside the drawn curtain. Katie. Verbal sunshine. She hadn’t seen the staffer since waving good-bye in the wee hours from an aerial and oh-so-frightening view of the cliffs while riding in the helicopter.
Anne felt as if she’d been mowed down by a wrecking ball. Her hair had dried on the pillow, and as she sat up she could actually feel it rising from her scalp in an askew halo. She rubbed her eyes; her stomach roared to life and growled. She’d slept long—late afternoon hued the room in shadow, dim rays slanting through the blinds and lining the tile floor.
“How are you feeling?” Katie asked Darrin as Anne whisked the curtain aside. Katie glanced at her, guilt on her face.
“I was awake,” Anne said as she finger combed her hair. “Although I know I don’t look it.” She slid off the bed. The tile against her bare feet sent a cold jolt to her brain.
Katie grinned, but sadness edged her eyes. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” She patted Darrin’s head in the next bed. “As are you, pal. You scared the wits out of us.”
Darrin shrugged, but a blush touched his face. Anne could hardly believe how his heart had softened in a mere twenty-four hours. She bit her tongue and rocked on her toes, itching to tell Katie the good news.
Darrin was a new creation in Christ. Saved. Transformed.
Just wait until Noah found out. The thought put a silly grin on her face.
Katie sat down in a nearby chair. “Latisha will be here soon. She’s heading home with the rest of the campers today. Bucko will drive your mom and her back tomorrow.”
“The campers are leaving?” Anne said, panic in her voice. She fought to hide her dismay. Noah wasn’t sending everyone home, was he? After they’d fought to open the camp, after Darrin’s life had been transformed? “Why?”
Katie sighed. Her eyes told Anne everything, including how she felt about the decision. “He asked me to bring your gear down. It’s in the car, along with Bertha.”