The Proposal at Siesta Key (4 page)

O
n Saturday night, Michael's parents insisted on holding a family meeting in his room at the Orange Blossom Inn. Michael had not supported this idea. Actually, he had argued against it. Forcefully. He was a grown man and could make his own decisions. The last thing he wanted was to have his life and health determined by his siblings and parents. Moreover, he really was in no hurry to have this discussion after being poked and prodded in the emergency room for the last twenty-four hours. He was tired, frustrated, and in considerable pain.

Dr. Barnes, the surgeon on call, had examined his knee when he'd arrived Friday night and recommended surgery as soon as possible. His knee was in sad shape—as if Michael needed to be told that. His prosthesis should have been adjusted months ago, and its increasingly poor fit had created a lot of irritation and a sizable infection. They'd tentatively scheduled the surgery for the following Friday.

Now, finally back in bed at the inn, surrounded by his family, he was crankier than ever. And while he was grateful for their love and concern, all he wanted to do at the moment was
sleep. For the next two days. He'd even make do with the next eight hours.

“Michael,” his father began, worry shining in his eyes, “there's something that needs to be said, and I fear it's going to be hard to hear.”

“And what is that?”

“We've come to some decisions, you see.”

Actually, he did
not
see. “About what?”

Looking just as pained, his mother continued. “Evan, Molly, your
daed
, and I had quite a bit of time to sit together in the waiting room.” Shooting Michael a chiding look, she added, “Lots and lots of time, since you wouldn't allow any of us in the exam area with ya.”

“I'm twenty-five years old, Mother. Far too old to be getting my hand held at a doctor's visit.”

Besides, he'd been in a small room wearing only a thin cotton smock, which—no matter how hard he'd tried—he couldn't seem to tie tightly enough to completely cover him. It had been bad enough to sit there so exposed to doctors and nurses. No way had he been about to sit there like that in front of his family, too.

Evan grunted. “It was far more than a mere doctor's visit and you know it.”

“We've been really worried,” Molly grumbled as if he'd just pulled her hair. “Don't make light of it.”

“Sorry.”

“It's all right.” She looked at their father again, obviously waiting for him to make his big announcement.

Which was obviously only a mystery to him.

His fight for patience ended. “Can we simply get to the point? What did you all talk about?”

“We discussed the rest of our tour,” Evan blurted.

“I know the schedule,” he said wearily. “What happened? Did someone cancel one of the bookings?”

“
Nee
, dear. Nothing like that. . . .” His mother's voice drifted off.

The back of his neck started tingling as he realized that they were struggling to tell him something important. Pressing his hands down on the bed, he worked to pull himself up. “What is it?”

“We didn't want to have this discussion without you, son. But when we got the news, we felt we had no choice.”

The news. The news that something was wrong with his right leg. What was left of it. “What happened?”

“Nothing too terrible.”

That was evasive maneuvering if he'd ever heard it.

“Just. Tell. Me.”

“You have a fair bit of an infection, Michael. The skin is raw and in a bad way. After your surgery on Friday, Dr. Barnes says that you're going to need to stay off of it for at least two weeks.”

Like that was going to happen. He knew how jam-packed their timetable was. Even if they juggled a couple of the dates, there was no way they could completely rearrange things to free up two solid weeks. “I won't need two weeks. I bet three days' recovery will be more than enough.”

His mother sat on the edge of his bed. “
Nee
, Michael.”

“Actually, we don't think even two weeks is going to be adequate time,” his father added.

“Of course it will be. Besides, it's not like we have a choice.” Mentally reviewing their itinerary, he said, “We're scheduled to speak in New York City on Monday. It's been planned for a year. We can't cancel.”

Evan nodded. “I agree.”

“Okay, then. So it's settled.”

“It is settled, Michael,” Daed announced. “But we've also decided that you are going to stay here and the four of us are going to continue on tour.”

His stomach dropped. “Pardon?”

After exchanging glances with his father, his mother said, “Son, Evan called Jeremiah Miller. He's agreed to come with us in your place.”

He blinked, hearing the words but not really processing them. “You asked Jeremiah to take my place?”

“He's a wonderful speaker,” Molly said, a strong note of apology in her voice. “His stories about surviving that robbery always gives everyone chills.”

“He is inspiring, for sure.” Michael liked Jeremiah a lot. He considered him a friend. But he wasn't thrilled about the man replacing him.

He was even less thrilled about being left behind.

His mother continued. “Your father and I spoke with Beverly this morning. She's going to give us a special rate while you stay here for the month.”

A month? A whole month? “That's ridiculous! I will not need to stay here that long.”

“The doctors seem to think differently.”

“
Nee
, the doctors said two weeks.”

“They said you need to rest for two weeks, preferably without your prosthesis. While you were getting your prescriptions filled and being discharged this morning, we talked to them about our tour schedule. Dr. Barnes took us into his office for a conference call with Dr. Collins back in Denver.”

Dr. Collins was the surgeon who had performed his amputation. “You had this call without me?”

“You were hooked up to the IV,” Evan said unhelpfully. “Remember, you were on some pretty strong pain relievers this morning.”

Michael looked down at his hands clenched in his lap so he wouldn't be forced to admit that he didn't remember much about being at the hospital.

Too afraid to dwell on that, he bit out, “And what did Dr. Collins say?”

“Well, it was amazing, really,” his mother said in a sweet, singsong voice. “They were able to send the pictures and scans they did of your leg right there on the computer.”

“And?”

“And Dr. Collins was in complete agreement with what Dr. Barnes and his team recommended,” his father said. “Of course we cannot schedule any of this without your approval, but we hope you will agree that this is the right choice to make. The surgery will help alleviate some of the pain of your scar tissue. But the plain and simple truth is that your knee has been under a lot of stress, son. It needs a good rest. Your prosthesis needs to be adjusted, maybe replaced. And if we don't do something to stop the damage that is happening now, there's a mighty good chance you're going to make things even worse.”

Suddenly it seemed as if all the air had been pulled out of his lungs. “You all are acting as if I've already agreed to this.”

After a moment, his father sat down next to Michael's hip. “I know this is difficult, son. I'm sorry for that, too.”

It was on the tip of Michael's tongue to say that no, they had no earthly idea how difficult this news was to hear, but then something his mother had said caught his attention. “When are you all planning to leave?”

“Some of us will be leaving in a couple of hours.”

“Some?”

His mother looked to his
daed
and Evan and Molly. “We thought one of us could stay behind with you.”

Molly nodded her head. “All you have to do is say who you want.”

“So one of you would volunteer to stay behind and look after me?” He couldn't think of anything worse.

“It wouldn't be a hardship,” Evan said.

“
Jah
, none of us wants you to have to be here all alone,” Molly added in a rush.

“I see.” One of them had volunteered to be his babysitter.

That could not happen. He would rather go into surgery and recover by himself than be forced onto one of his siblings for a whole month. “I'll be fine. I don't want any of you to stay.”

“Michael, think about what you're saying,” his mother cautioned.

“I have, Mamm. I'll be fine. I promise, I will.”

“You could always let us know if you change your mind,” Molly said. “Then one of us could come back and be with you.”

“That's a
gut
plan,” Michael said, though he knew he wouldn't ask any of them to return.

“I know it feels like we're leaving you, but I'm afraid we can't cancel the tour completely,” their father said. “Besides the fact that we need to honor our commitments, we need to raise money for the surgery and the hospital and the doctors.”

He shook his head. “No. We preach and give witness for charity.”

“This time we need to ask for some help.”

He shook his head again. “I can pay for my surgery. I've saved quite a bit of money from some of the side jobs and speaking engagements I've taken over the years.”

“This is true. But if you pay for the surgery by yourself it will
drain all of your savings,” his father replied. “There's no shame in asking for some donations, Michael.”

“I'd really rather you didn't do this. It's not necessary. Remember how well that conference chair paid me last June?”

“That is your money, son,” his mother said. “You earned it, and one day, when you start your own family, you'll need it.”

“But—”

“We have no choice, Michael,” his father said. “I'm just as uncomfortable with this as you are, but doctors need to be paid.”

Michael couldn't even begin to imagine how much another surgery was going to cost. “I hate this.”

“I know, but you mustn't dwell on it too much,” his mother soothed. “We made this choice when we decided to preach and spread the word about our faith and experiences.”

“In the grand scheme of things, you will be out only for a brief while,” Evan added. “Then, when you've recovered and are feeling healthy again, we'll go back to how things have always been.”

To how things have always been
. Those words took the last bit of fight out of him. “Fine.”

Molly raised a brow. “Fine? That's it?”

He didn't feel much like talking anymore. He didn't feel much like discussing his pain, his leg, their work, or the fact that they were going to go out and tell everyone that he needed help.

“I'm pretty tired right now. As we've said, it's really late. I think I should go to sleep.”

His father stared at him hard before standing up. “I understand. Yes, let's let you get some rest.”

“I'll come check on you before we head to the airport,” his mother said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair back from his forehead.

“
Danke
, Mamm.”

“Do you need anything before we leave?” Evan asked, looking reluctant to go. “Ice? A fresh glass of water?”

“I don't need a thing.”

“Sure? I don't—”

“
Danke
, Evan, but stop worrying. I promise, I'll be fine.”

It was only after the door closed behind them that Michael leaned against the headboard, closed his eyes, and whispered everything he'd been aching to say.

It wasn't pretty. It was filled with recriminations and anger and pain and doubts and weakness. It was filled with everything he tried never to think and definitely that no one ever heard. But he couldn't help it. He wasn't a saint, he wasn't even close to that. He was only a man and a flawed one at that.

But after he'd given the Lord the worst of him, Michael went to sleep.

After all, he was the weak one. God was not.

B
y Monday afternoon, Penny had walked into every market and restaurant in Pinecraft and asked to apply for a job. Some let her fill out an application. Others, after learning that she had no actual work experience, showed her directly to the door. Then, just as she was starting to get discouraged, one of the clerks at Yoder's asked if Penny had tried applying at any of the inns or bed-and-breakfasts nearby.

Without delay, she'd headed directly to the Orange Blossom Inn. Though she didn't know the owner, Beverly Overholt, well, the attractive lady with the striking green eyes had always been nice to her. She also had a reputation of being easygoing, which was an attribute Penny knew she would very much appreciate in a boss.

And now, after telling Miss Beverly the reason she was there, the proprietor's eyes brightened like Penny was her long-lost friend.

“You were surely sent here by the angels,” she said, wrapping her hand around Penny's elbow. “A set of unusual circumstances has just presented itself, and I've been sitting at my desk praying
for some assistance.” Her smile broadened. “And now, here you are!”

Penny wasn't sure if she was happier than Miss Beverly or twice as relieved. She'd been starting to wonder how she was going to face her parents if their predictions about her inability to get a job turned out to be right.

The moment after they walked into the kitchen, Beverly deposited Penny in a chair, poured her a tall glass of lemonade, and placed the most delicious-looking slice of strawberry coffee cake in front of her. “Here you go. Job hunting isn't for the faint of heart. I bet you've worked up an appetite today.”

“Danke.”
She smiled hesitantly, briefly wondering if it was ruder to eat while applying for a job or to ignore the plate her potential future employer offered. In the end, her growling stomach made the decision. She was hungry, and the cake looked delicious.

Beverly seemed pleased when she picked up her fork and dug in. “Now, while you eat, I'll tell you the type of job I have in mind for you.”

When Penny took a bite, Miss Beverly started talking. “I have been thinking I need to hire some extra help, to assist with cleaning the rooms and such. And with serving afternoon tea.” She paused, an almost panicked expression on her face. “Can you work forty hours a week?”

“Yes, I can.” Penny took another bite in an attempt to hide the wonder she was feeling. Could she really be landing a full-time job?

Beverly's smile brightened. “You can? Oh, thank goodness. I know we need to talk about what days you will need off, too. Do you mind if we play it by ear? A lot of our schedule will be determined by how busy the inn is.”

“I don't mind working different days each week.”

“Really? You are indeed an answer to my prayers, Penny.”

Penny wanted to say the same thing, that this job was the answer to hers. However, she was afraid to admit it for fear she would sound too eager or that her enthusiasm would reveal her inexperience. Instead, she took another bite of the delicious, moist cake.

“This is wonderful. I've never had strawberry coffee cake before.”

“I'm glad you like it. Even though I've been in Florida for a few years now, I take advantage of all the fresh fruits available year round.” She shrugged.

“My
mamm
often says the same thing.”

Miss Beverly beamed. “Who knows? If everything works out, maybe one day you'll be making this cake for the guests.”

“I hope that does happen, Miss Beverly.”

Miss Beverly stilled, gazing at her for a long moment before pushing away Penny's offer to rinse her plate. She took it over to the sink herself. “Penny, I forgot to ask, how soon can you start?”

“Oh, I could start today if you needed me.” After all, she had no desire to head home. She was certain her news about being hired full-time was not going to be met with smiles from her parents.

“You could really start today?”

Penny nodded, then confided, “I am so happy to have found a job. I really need this.”

“
Gut
. And that, well, brings me to something else.” Looking wary again, she said, “Penny, I will need you to help with traditional tasks—like cleaning rooms, cooking, serving, and so forth—but . . . well, we have a new development. Please listen to me before you refuse, okay?”

Miss Beverly's sudden disclaimer sounded intriguing, and perhaps a little bit surprising, especially since there was no way Penny was going to refuse this job—but that didn't seem like the right thing to say. “All right.”

“We have a guest who will be having surgery soon.”

“Yes?”

“It's quite an unusual situation. See, the young man's family travels quite a bit. They are evangelists. Perhaps you've heard of them? The Knoxx Family? They've come to Pinecraft a couple of times over the last few years.”

Penny's mouth went dry and a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach made the strawberry cake she'd just consumed feel like it weighed twenty pounds. “Didn't they speak at Pinecraft Park Friday night?” she asked in an extremely nonchalant way, because, of course, she already knew the answer.

She doubted she would ever forget Michael Knoxx's speech—or how he'd treated her.

“They did.” Miss Beverly's eyes shone. “The younger son is going to have surgery on his knee and recuperate here by himself because his family is scheduled to preach abroad.”

“That would be awful. I would hate to have to recover by myself in a strange place.”

“I would, too. But his family seems to think that the warm Florida air will only help his recovery.”

“I see.”

“The reason I'm mentioning all this is that part of your job will be to care for Michael.”

Penny felt her cheeks heat though there was truly no reason for it. “Michael.”

“
Jah
. And perhaps maybe even spend some time with him if you are agreeable to that?”

“Spend time?” She had no idea what that might entail.

Beverly's lips turned up at the corners. “Don't look so worried, dear. I'm simply talking about reading, playing cards, maybe even watching a movie on a portable DVD player I have.”

Penny was taken aback. Her parents had been so overprotective that she'd had very few opportunities to spend any time at all with men.

But what choice did she have? This was the job she was being given. Besides, it seemed as if the Lord had been working through the day's events. How else could she have explained the fact that she was looking for a job just when Beverly was in need of help? And that she was going to be helping to nurse Michael, the most famous person in town?

Who just happened to be the same man she'd attempted to help a few nights before.

A verse from Matthew 7 that she'd memorized long ago came to mind:
Ask, and God will give to you. Search, and you will find. Knock, and the door will open for you.

“What do you say, Penny? Would you like the job? If your answer is yes, it's yours.”

With new resolve in her heart, she stood up. “I'm looking forward to this job very much, Miss Beverly. Now, if you'll tell me what you'd like me to do first, I'll get right to work.”

As an answer, Miss Beverly pressed a pitcher of water in her hand. “Please go to Michael's room, give him some water, and see if he needs anything. He's in the Lilac room.”

“Lilac?” It sounded awfully feminine for a man like Michael Knoxx.

“Jah.”
Her eyes lit in amusement. “All the rooms—with the exception of the attic room—are named after flowers.” Her lips
tilted upward. “Don't worry. You'll see the name to the left of every door.”

Penny tried to look competent as she made her way out of the kitchen and through the gathering area. Only when she got up the stairs did she dare allow herself to relax and let her true feelings surface. She clenched her hands and closed her eyes as a terrible combination of embarrassment and something akin to terror churned her insides. This was going to go badly. She had no idea how to care for a grown man, let alone a famous, handsome one.

But then, little by little, she remembered what her alternative was. She could simply stay home and be coddled and protected and have every move watched.

She could not go back to that. She couldn't.

Outside of his room, Penny forced herself to relax, letting her head fall back against the wall and exhaling slowly. She had a job. So what if it was spending time with Michael Knoxx? So what if he was going to be sitting in his bed, in his room?

And did it really matter if it was just the two of them?

Furthermore, the worst that could happen already had. Why, she was fairly sure he believed her to be some kind of awful, crazy stalker. But he was simply going to have to get over that.

As her skin started to prickle with nerves again, she realized she was going to need some help. Luckily, there was someone in her life whom she could always count on for that.

“Lord, you definitely do work in mysterious ways,” she whispered. “I'm not entirely sure why You've decided I need to do this particular job, but since You have, maybe You could give me a little bit of help?”

She paused, half expecting to be hit by a bolt of lightning or something.

But when nothing happened, she raised her hand and knocked on Michael's door, then felt goose bumps traipse up and down her arms when no one replied. What to do? Was he asleep? Should she wake him up?

Feeling like the Lord was smiling as He propelled her forward, Penny inhaled, lifted her hand, and knocked again. This time with a good bit of force. Miss Beverly had asked her to bring Michael Knoxx water, so that was what she was going to do.

No matter what was about to happen.