by Sarah Monzon
Amber faced her brother. “After your accident, how did you know that you’d been right before? About what you were supposed to do with your life, I mean. Did you ever doubt that maybe you’d been wrong all along? That you weren’t supposed to be a fighter pilot at all, and the accident was a sort of wake-up call to get you back on the right path?”
He seemed to weigh her words. Consider them and the source from which they flowed. “Are you saying you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be in ministry as a chaplain?”
“Something like that.”
“Where’s the doubt coming from?”
A puff of breath shot from her mouth. “You mean besides the people who say I don’t belong because I’m female?”
He shoulder-checked her. “Yeah. Besides those.”
She closed her eyes and held still. Blocked out the sounds of the other tourists around her. Blocked out the raptor’s cry as it soared on an updraft above them. Blocked out even her brother’s breathing.
God.
The word was a summons, although she didn’t think herself so lofty as to be able to order the Creator of the Universe. It was a plea, her voice echoing in a cold and dark place, returning to her hollow and unanswered.
Like so many times before, she opened herself up and waited. Waited. Only, nothing but silence met her. No baptism of peace. No fire of conviction. No guiding light.
She opened her eyes and pushed down the wave of despair. In the absence of her Father’s words, those that had been spoken over her rang louder.
You don’t belong.
This isn’t your place.
You could never understand.
You aren’t qualified.
You’re too naïve.
Too sheltered.
You don’t even have a testimony.
Her nose tingled and her face heated as an onslaught of tears threatened to build in her eyes.
Too emotional.
She blinked back hot liquid and folded her fingers under her thighs. She couldn’t look at Michael. One glance his way and she’d lose her hard-won composure. Instead, she stared out at the horizon. From the vantage point of this castle built on a hill, she could see for miles. “I can’t hear Him anymore. Calling me to this purpose, I mean.”
“But you did once?”
She half-shrugged. “I thought I did.”
“So why do you doubt that calling now?”
So many reasons. “What if I was wrong? I’m not exactly the poster person for the job, Michael. I haven’t lived a life or done anything that gives weight to the idea that I am qualified. What if I only imagined hearing the call? What if it was my own voice and not His that I heard?”
“Okay, first off, are you one of His sheep?”
“What does that have to do with—”
“I thought you were going to humor me.”
Her trapped fingers started to tingle, so she pulled them out of their smashed position between the bench and the back of her legs. “Fine. Yes. I am one of His sheep.”
Michael looked her straight in the eye. “His sheep know His voice.”
John 10:27. Her heart knocked against her ribs. “But—”
“You sound like Moses.”
Her head notched back. “Excuse me?”
“God undeniably called Moses, but instead of accepting this divine direction, he started making excuses.”
“I’m not making excuses.”
“Aren’t you?”
Was she?
“Do you think God would have let Moses stammer in front of Pharaoh? Do you think He would have told Moses to do this great thing and then left him alone to flounder?”
She averted her eyes. “No.”
“That’s right. No. Because God doesn’t call the equipped, Amber. He equips the called.”
Hebrews 13:21.
Her lids lowered, and she lifted her face up to the sky. Opened her heart back up…this time as an offering. When had she lost sight of that simple truth? It was never about any of her merits or lack thereof. God didn’t care if He had pulled her out of the lowest of places and washed her clean, or if He’d only had to help her up when she stumbled and scraped her knee. He didn’t compare her journey to anyone else’s, and neither should she. Like Peter, she’d taken her eyes off the Lord and sunk. But now she wanted to be like Isaiah. Here I am, Lord. Send me.
“You know, I think the princess who used to live here was surprised at what God called her to do as well.” He glanced at her with a half-smile. “If you think you’ve had a hard time of it because of your gender, you should imagine what it was like for her five hundred years ago.”
Amber followed the lines of the castle parapet, the curve of the turrets. She tried to picture what life would have been like, living in a castle like this at a time like that. She’d taken Church History 305. Learned about the hardships and struggles during the Protestant Reformation and Counter-Reformation periods. Germany gave birth to new ways of spiritual thinking through men like Luther, Melanchthon, Zwingli, Hubmaier, and Simons. But there were influential women of the Reformation, too, although less famous. Luther’s wife, Katarina, Anna Bullinger, and Jeanne d’Albert, queen of Navarre.
But what of this princess? Amber had never heard of a woman of royal heritage taking part in the transformation of religious thought during that time. Not in this region. But history was often male-centric, so that didn’t surprise her.
The draw she felt to the castle, however, did. A connection that went soul deep. It didn’t make sense, but she found she didn’t really care. She’d always remember this place. A consecrated altar. If she didn’t think her actions would be frowned upon, she’d gather twelve stones and stack them atop each other, an example from the Old Testament.
She turned to Michael. “What happened to this princess and the man she hid? Did anyone find him? Did they…” Separation of church and state didn’t exist in the Holy Roman Empire. If a person didn’t worship the way the ruling state demanded, legal and often fatal consequences were enforced. Martyrs of conviction and faith.
“From what I read, she was able to keep his presence a secret for a time—long enough to learn about grace through faith and receive a believer’s baptism.”
“And then?” Amber pressed after he hesitated.
He met her gaze. “And then they were both drowned for their convictions.” He paused. “But we both know God takes things that look like failure to our eyes and uses them for His purpose. The princess’s father, so shaken by his daughter’s stand, examined her beliefs and soon accepted them as his own. Because of her sacrifice and willingness to stay faithful, light was able to come to this region during the Reformation.”
Beauty for ashes. Blessings instead of mourning. Praise instead of despair. How would God use Amber’s own faithfulness?
Michael picked up a seed pod from a nearby tree and twirled it in his fingers. “Now on to the other thing we need to discuss.”
“There’s more?”
He let the pod go and watched it spiral to the ground. “Yeah, though I’m more than tempted to call up Trent and have him talk to you about it.”
Amber bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as Michael’s face flushed. If she needed a guy pummeled for some reason, he’d show up. Talk about boy troubles due to matters of the heart? Well, not something they taught in boot camp. Michael adhered to more of a strong-and-silent code of conduct.
“You don’t have to worry. Nothing that paparazzo said was true.”
“We aren’t worried about that. No one who’s ever met you would be worried about that.”
“Hey!” She pushed on his shoulder.
One single brow rose in response.
She laughed. Okay, yeah, she did kind of have a reputation, and being seduced by a good-looking athlete wasn’t it.
He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “Thing is, we all saw the pictures.”
“What about them? They weren’t compromising or anything.”
His chin dipped. “Telling, is more like it.”
“Telling? Really?” It was her turn to raise a brow. “What exactly did those pictures tell you?”
He waited two beats for effect. “That my little sister is in love.”
If she hadn’t already been sitting, her legs would have given way beneath her. “That’s impossible, Michael. I’m not in love. We’ve only been on one date.”
She wanted to punch him when his lips twitched knowingly.
“So that was a real, official date, then?”
She notched her chin in the air.
Michael burst out laughing.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” she sniffed.
His eyes danced with mirth. “What was it we always said at every school function you went stag to?”
Oh, she didn’t want to answer that. Talk about incriminating herself. “That the first guy I went on a date with would be the one I’d marry.” She rushed on. “But you guys were teasing me. You weren’t serious.”
“Weren’t we? Tell me this, what’s your favorite ice cream?”
Man, he was all over the place on these subject changes. Last time he’d hit the nail on the head, this time… Her navel quivered and she cleared her throat. “Cookies and cream.”
“And when you eat ice cream, do you ever order any other flavor?”
“What’s the point when I know what I like?”
“Mmmhmm. And your bedspread at home. Have you changed it at all in ten years, even though it’s now raggedy and thread bare?”
She folded her hands in her lap. “It’s incredibly comfortable and special to me.”
His eyes gleamed. “Right. What about—”
“What’s your point, Michael?”
“That you’re someone who knows instantly what you like, and once you’ve decided, there are no other options for you.”
She picked at a cuticle as she processed his logic. “So, you’re saying…”
He nodded. “That if anyone was made to fall in love quickly, it’s you.” He gave her a devilish grin. “Also, that Amber plus first date equals inevitable marriage.” He winked. “Don’t worry. I’ll have Jack save all her bridal magazines for you.”
Even if Michael had hit a bulls-eye—and she wasn’t saying he had—it didn’t matter. She’d already taken herself out of that picture. “Not necessary.”
He smirked. “We’ll see.”
“No, I mean…” She sighed. “Even if you’re right in your assumption that I love Seth, nothing is going to happen between us.”
“Why?” He narrowed his eyes. “Did that pretty boy do something that I need to know about?”
“Put the guns away, Finch.” She didn’t often use his old call sign, but his demeaner called for it now. “Seth didn’t do anything. In fact…” She turned away, color creeping into her cheeks. “He told me he loved me.”
“That it?”
She swallowed. “As you might have guessed, I didn’t say it back.”
“But now you know you do love him, so you can tell him and everything will be fine.”
“Oh, to have an uncomplicated male brain.”
He rested his elbow on the back of the bench. “Yeah, it is great.”
“But everything isn’t that simple. Now that God’s calling has solidified again, I need to concentrate on finishing my degree and starting my ministry. And Seth…well, Seth has things he needs to focus on as well. He doesn’t need me distorting the picture and getting in the way.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that all came from you and not him.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I saw the way he looked at you. And as a man, I can tell you that guy has already given you his heart. He wants to be closer to you, not farther away. Nothing is in his focus like you are. It’s like tunnel vision.”
Then stepping away had been the right thing. She’d always been strong. Self-disciplined. Sometimes that drive and attention made her miss out on things, but it paid off as well. She craved nothing more than to be with Seth. Beside him, in close proximity, sharing the same oxygen. But then she’d be a distraction, and he wouldn’t be able to focus on what was really important. His sister and his reputation. His public witness.
So she’d be strong for the both of them. Even if it felt like her heart bled between her ribs and left her chest cavity empty. Because love didn’t serve self. Love put others first.
“I think you’ve forgotten one of the greatest advantages of being the youngest.” Michael interrupted her thoughts.
“What’s that?”
“Learning from all our mistakes.”
Her brows tilted up in question.
“You know how long I loved Jack before I told her or did anything about it? Too long. And you know why?”
“Because you were an idiot?”
“Because, smart aleck, I thought I was taking her best interests into consideration. I thought the best thing for her was to have a man that was whole, and not my sorry excuse for a carcass.” He rubbed at his stump above where the prosthetic was strapped to his leg. “But really, I was just being a martyr. Instead of protecting her, I hurt her with what I thought had been self-sacrifice.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
That penetrating gaze was back. “You know why.”
Yeah. She did.
“So,” he said. “What are you going to do now? Are you going to let a few obstacles get in your way, or are you going to step up and show Seth, and the world, what Amber Carrington is really made of?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Not now. Not yet.
Seth’s grip on the phone tightened. He wanted to hurl the thing across the kitchen and watch it break into a dozen satisfying pieces.
“I expect every player at the club pitch tomorrow, Marshall,” Coach McCallister repeated.
“We still have two more weeks of R and R before training begins for the new season.” Seth’s teeth clenched. Two more weeks to wait for Amber to realize what he’d known from almost the moment they’d met. That just as God had created Eve for Adam, Amber had been created for him. They were meant to be together, and whether that took her two weeks or twenty years to accept, he was willing to wait.
He’d just been hoping the time period was closer to the days than years spectrum and that his presence would help persuade her. While time was an aspect he was willing to accept, it was also one he hoped not to squander.
And now the clock had been fast-forwarded to zero.
Even if he found her as soon as this torturous call from Leon ended, he’d never be able to assuage her concerns and convince her that the best thing for them was to face whatever the world threw at them together. God, her, and him.
Somewhere in the Bible, he remembered reading about a three stranded cord not being easily broken. That’s what he wanted. To so interlock his life with hers, braided with the will of God, that nothing could separate them. No false paparazzo scandal. No family drama. No future concerns about her career or his. Because they’d face it all together and be stronger for it.
“You aren’t the only one on the receiving end of bad press. And while I’m inclined to believe yours more fiction than fact, I’m afraid not everything that happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
Seth tilted his head back and let the sunshine coming through the window splash across his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Would those blokes never learn?
Leon cleared his throat, which turned into a hacking cough. “Look, Marshall. I don’t want to threaten you, but there is a penalty for not showing up for practice on time. Also…” He cursed, but the words came muffled, like he’d turned his head away from the phone. “I’m just going to say it. I need you to step up. Captain the team. Those twits are like sheep without a shepherd.”
Seth’s brows rose at Leon’s choice of words. “That almost sounds like you’ve stepped inside a church before, Coach.”
“Yeah, well
, I’m not all heathen. Though if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
“Your secret’s safe. But, as the coach, don’t you think you’re more shepherd material?”
His laugh turned into another cough. “This old wolf? I’ll nip at their heels and you lead them to victory. And I’m not talking about to the altar here, Marshall. I’m talking about a Champions League win.”
Could Seth push? Maybe buy a few more days?
“Tomorrow, Marshall. I’m serious.”
Before he could utter another word, the line went dead.
He sealed his lips against words he would have used in the past and pounded a fist to the butcher block counter.
There wasn’t anything for it. He needed to talk to Amber. Now. Inform her he had to leave, though he didn’t want to, and convince her to pray about them. Together. As a couple. No excuses.
He tapped on her name in his phone and waited while it rang. And rang. Voicemail picked up, but he didn’t want to say everything in a message. Ending the call, he dialed Mila. She picked up on the second ring.
“Hallo, Seth.”
“Mila, is Amber at the center yet? I need to speak with her.”
“Sorry. Her brother came to visit, so I gave her the day off to spend with him.”
He gripped the edge of the kitchen countertop. “She won’t be in at all?”
“Not today. Why? Problem?”
“You could say that. I hate to say it, but I have to fly back to England today. I know I agreed to help at the center a couple more weeks, but my coach is insisting we all start training early.”
“And this is why you wish to speak to Amber? I will tell her, Seth.”
Not everything. Mila couldn’t tell her everything. “Thanks,” he said on a sigh and hung up.
If he’d known that the last time he’d talked to Amber was going to be the last time, would he have said more? Shown her the depth of his love instead of just putting it to words? He’d wanted to kiss her so badly on so many occasions. When she’d glowed from making the goal on the first day they’d met. When she’d challenged the turns on the Autobahn and raced away with his coherent thoughts. When she’d turned Yara into a fairy princess and woven a story so hypnotic as to quiet even the most haunting of memories.