Tying the Knot (17 page)

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Authors: Susan May Warren

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Contemporary, #FICTION / Christian / Romance, #FICTION / Romance / Contemporary

BOOK: Tying the Knot
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“How’s that?”

Dr. Jefferies shrugged. “Simple cause and effect. You obey God, He protects you. You run from His law, you get what you deserve.”

Unexpected tears pricked her eyes. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Have you met our new addition to the local scenery, Pastor?” Dr. Jefferies asked as they approached Pastor Dan. He nudged Anne forward. “Anne Lundstrom, EMT, nurse extraordinaire.”

Anne managed a mortified smile.

“Glad to meet you, Anne,” Dan said. His warm grip told her his friendly smile was genuine. Up close, he seemed young for a head pastor. “You aren’t by any chance the nurse who’s going to work up at Wilderness Challenge?”

Was she? She swallowed, digging up an answer. As if he’d been snagged by her unspoken answer, Noah appeared behind the pastor. His eyes found hers, latched on hard, and held that devastating, come-back-to-me look. His power to render her weak kicked into high gear, and she fought the memory of the way he’d trampled her feelings with the finesse of a wild boar.

She tried instead to focus on reasons why Wilderness Challenge was a good idea. Reasons like Ella and her gang of friends living on the edge of disease. Reasons like hiding out in the woods while the Deep Haven police department tracked down a cat burglar. Reasons that had nothing to do with a man who could sway her traitorous heart with a smile.

Without breaking Noah’s gaze, she nodded.

The amazed, heart-stopping, completely delighted grin he gave her made her idiotically giddy all afternoon.

When would her foolish heart ever learn?

11

Monday morning the clouds vanished, leaving a glorious canopy of azure. The breeze blew in a fragrant perfume of lilac and water lily, and the essence of summer, complete with levity and joy, filled Noah’s chest. He climbed out of Mink Lake, deliciously cold, alive, and ready to congregate with his staff. He felt like a boy on his first day of grammar school, anticipation expanding his lungs, swelling his heart.

Or maybe his joy had to do with that incredible shy smile Anne had offered him over Pastor Dan’s shoulder yesterday. She’d said yes. Yes! And in about one hour he expected her to cruise into Wilderness Challenge.

And then what? She wasn’t about to give him a second chance. He should count his abundant blessings that she would consider being in the same country with him, let alone the same fifteen acres. But it was a start. A good start. And maybe, if he put on his best behavior and acted like the gentleman he desperately wanted to be, she’d develop X-ray vision and see past his rough exterior to a man who wanted to be her friend. He wasn’t foolish enough to hope for more, to believe she might be able to trust him. He would be happy for mere civility after the way he’d treated her. Still, he could barely keep to a walk as he toweled off and headed toward the lodge.

Granny D. had already roosted in the kitchen, and the smell of flapjacks and sausage links reached out to snag him. Noah ducked his head into the kitchen. “You’re already spoiling us.”

Granny D. waggled her wooden spoon, delight in her gray eyes. “That’s why I’m here, young man. Now git dressed and don’t show up in my kitchen late.” She winked at him.

Noah felt a pinch of grief. If only Mother Peters were alive, she’d be working right alongside Granny D. But Noah had failed her, right along with Anthony and a young EMT who might be lying in her grave right now. The thought wiped the smile off Noah’s face.

It would do him well to remember exactly why he’d needed Anne to join his staff. So that kids might not repeat the crimes of their big brothers. So that hope and life might sweep through the streets of the Phillips neighborhood.

In the cabin, Ross and Bucko had risen. Noah noticed both young men had their Bibles open. Ross mouthed the words to some hard-rappin’ beat pulsing out of his headphones. Bucko had a highlighter out. Noah dumped his shampoo on his shelf and tossed his towel on a hook. He had a few priceless minutes before breakfast so he grabbed his Bible and headed out to the campfire pit.

He recalled sitting in the way-too-romantic shadows of the pines with Anne. With the sun winking overhead, Noah couldn’t keep a swell of hope reined in his chest. Maybe, just maybe . . .

Friends. Only friends.
He had to stay centered on that thought.

Sitting on one of the benches, he opened his Bible. He’d been studying Paul’s letter to the Philippians, sharing a like-minded happiness with the apostle for those who had joined him in the overwhelming task of Wilderness Challenge.

“For I live in eager expectation and hope that I will never do anything that causes me shame, but that I will always be bold for Christ, as I have been in the past, and that my life will always honor Christ, whether I live or I die. For to me, living is for Christ, and dying is even better. Yet if I live, that means fruitful service for Christ. I really don’t know which is better. I’m torn between two desires: Sometimes I want to live, and sometimes I long to go and be with Christ. That would be far better for me.”

Knowing the man Noah had been, it wasn’t a giant leap to see that any success he saw in the ministry department depended solely on God’s ability, not his. As he’d drawn closer to God, seen salvation transform junkies, prostitutes, and narc dealers into the creations of heaven, Noah had fallen five million percent in love with the Almighty. God in heaven had his heart, and there were times—many, in fact—when he longed for eternity. Yet he understood intimately Paul’s dilemma in verse twenty-two. “Fruitful service for Christ,” the heartbeat and joy of the Christian life, done for and by the Savior.

Noah closed his eyes.
See my heart, Lord. Fill me with Yourself, and let Noah and his desires die. Take this man and use me how You will, for Your glory.

He heard a sparrow chirping in a nearby basswood. The smell of the morning, the warmth of the sun, and the hope that lay before him because of this great commission thickened his throat.
I am unworthy of Your grace, Lord.

Tires spit gravel and he looked up as Anne drove in. He smiled and blinked away the tears.
So unworthy, Lord.

Gulping in a deep breath, he gathered his composure and sauntered out to the SUV, hoping Anne could see past the jerk who’d battered her feelings to the Savior dwelling inside him.

Where was the man who had confronted her with the sensitivity of a piranha and treated her like a contagious disease? Gone, and in his place, Sir Gallant, complete with jokes and compliments. “You’re looking nice today,” had actually come out of his mouth with believable sincerity. She’d stifled a frown. She was a regular beauty queen in her faded jeans and university sweatshirt. Still, her heart bought it and did a wild dance in her chest. Then he’d hugged Bertha like a lost friend, took the medical bag out of Anne’s hand, and thanked her for showing up.

It didn’t help that he’d shed his slicked-up disguise of yesterday and donned his backwoods soldier-of-fortune costume—a pair of ripped army fatigues that looked comfortable enough to spend a Saturday in, a black T-shirt, work boots, and a smile that could light up a room.

And just when she’d talked herself out of noticing. In fact, she’d spent half the night reminding herself that his smile represented nothing more than triumph. That he saw her as nothing more than a bargaining chip with the local church. That he was more interested in her medical skills than her company.

The charming sneak. Anne sat across from him at breakfast, watching as he spelled out the plans for the day. His gaze kept alighting on her, eliciting a spurt of delight. He had a crooked smile, and he talked with his hands, something she’d noticed before but didn’t enjoy nearly as much as now. The guy had energy streaming out of his ears, and his enthusiasm was as catchy as a flu bug in a preschool. She couldn’t wait to meet the kids, to take them canoeing, rock climbing, and share the gospel with them.

She was turning into her father right before her very eyes.

No, not quite her father. Her father had a saint’s heart. These kids were different. For one thing, they weren’t going to be armed to the teeth, and they certainly wouldn’t have the vocabulary of convicts. Even so, Noah’s passion to reach his kids certainly put a smile on her face.

Even her co-laborers seemed to brim with his fervor. She met Melinda and Katie, who spent most of the meal coercing her to move up to camp immediately. She’d nearly given in to Melinda’s bright smile, sunshine against her dark, beautiful face. And Katie had the charm of her Irish ancestors, complete with a stubborn streak to match her red hair and green eyes. Ross oozed charisma and, judging by his straight teeth and Ralph Lauren polo shirt, braces and a college scholarship had been part of his background. Even Bucko, despite the screwball hat he wore on his head—was that a kitchen rag?—grinned at her, swallowing her whole with his friendly demeanor.

So maybe she’d live through this summer, even if Noah turned out to be exactly the heartbreaker she suspected him to be. Suspected? Anne grimaced inwardly at the way her pulse galloped, the short-term memory connection to her heart obviously on the fritz.

An African-American woman, nearly six feet of grin and opinion called Granny, waddled out of the kitchen, thrilled that they were stuffed to the gills and couldn’t move another inch. Granny’s pancakes had tasted like heaven. Anne certainly wouldn’t starve this summer.

Noah left them halfway through breakfast. Anne breathed finally and discovered that all the staffers hailed from Bethel College in the Twin Cities.
Small world,
she thought, keeping her own previous address in pocket. She wanted to think of herself as a Deep Havener, and she’d start right now.

She helped Granny with the dishes, ladled scraps into a dog bowl for Bertha—where was she?—then assembled on the lodge porch with the rest of the crew. The sun wove golden fingers between the elms and maples surrounding the camp and lit the courtyard aglow. Anne couldn’t help but conjure up the day she’d spent here with Noah, the sound of his laughter like a song in her heart.

Out of some clasp of trees, the subject of her errant thoughts ran up holding a wad of rags. “First day of training, I want us to learn to act like a team.” Noah passed out the long strips of cotton. “This is a trust test. Melinda and Ross work in one pair, Bucko and Katie the other.”

Anne’s heart did a rebellious flutter as she did the simple math. As if reading her mind, Noah looked at her and winked. Her knees turned to jelly.

“I have directions,” Noah continued, oblivious to the fact that his EMT was about to fall into a heap. “The object of this exercise is to communicate clearly and learn to trust your partner. One of you will be blindfolded, and the other will give instructions and, if needed, support toward the points listed. When you reach the halfway point, you’ll find an envelope and instructions to switch. The guider will then be blindfolded and follow directions back to camp.” He handed the directions to each team.

His smirk had tease in it. “Remember, what goes around comes around.” He waggled his eyebrows and sent Katie into a fit of laughter. Anne, however, fought a wave of fear. Blindfolded? At Noah’s mercy? What if his charm turned sour when they got alone? She stared at the rag in her hands.

And then Noah was beside her. “Do you want to be blindfolded first? or do the guiding?” His eyes sparkled, but all mischief had vanished, as if he had seen her turmoil. His expression turned somber. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

Oh, his gentle words and soft voice balmed her bruised heart. She could hardly dredge up her voice. “I’ll guide first.”

“Perfect.” He took the cotton strip from her hands and tied it around his eyes, looking like a bandit. “I am at your mercy.”

While the other teams moved off in different directions, Anne consulted her directions. “Uh . . . go forward.”

He nearly fell off the porch, but he had enough kindness not to mention that she’d botched the first instruction.

“Sorry.”

Why did his goofy grin, misaimed by his blindness, make her mind muddle? And of course he had to smell woodsy and masculine. Anne took a deep breath and touched his shoulder. “Go right ten paces.”

He obeyed like a soldier. She had to admire the way he strutted out boldly, investing in her words like she would never steer him wrong. “Veer left, about . . . um . . . eight steps.”

In fact, he’d poured out his dreams into her hands. She realized, as he marched straight for the men’s outhouse, that she had the power to crush his dreams. She could close this camp down with one word. One negative report, one mishandled event. The thought made her shudder. A woman who could barely take care of her dog shouldn’t be allowed that much power. Noah had no business trusting her, and yet there he was, nearly plowing into the—

“Stop!” Anne stifled a giggle. “Sorry.”

“I guess payback is good medicine, huh?” He turned, and a smile graced his face.

But she couldn’t ignore the fact that he knew he’d hurt her. And good. For a second, her lungs wouldn’t work. In a shaky voice she said, “Turn around and walk toward me.”

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