by Irene Hannon
Seven sets of eyes focused on him and the room grew quiet.
Luke cleared his throat and folded his hands on the table. “I’d be thrilled if we could break ground for this center before I leave. But realistically, that event may be a year or two down the road. If I learned one thing in the military, it was that nothing happens fast when a committee is involved.”
A knowing chuckle rippled around the table.
Luke flashed them a smile. “What I hoped to do during my stay was work with you to set everything in motion. That would include developing a fundraising plan, spreading the word about the project and helping line up appropriate resources and benefactors to support the project long-term. I’m not an expert at this sort of thing, but I’m hoping we can draft the assistance of some local people who are.”
“I agree we need to pull in experts.” A thin, middle-aged man with a receding hairline spoke. Reverend Matthew Howard, Luke recalled. “None of us have the time or expertise to make this center happen. But there are plenty of experts in our own community who could take on pieces of this. One in my own congregation, in fact. She’s a relative newcomer to the area. Kelsey Anderson. She runs a quilt shop in Douglas, but until earlier this year she was the director of public relations and corporate promotions for a large firm in St. Louis.”
When the man named the well-known company, Luke’s eyebrows rose. “That’s impressive. She sounds like just the kind of person we need.”
“I agree.” Father Joe leaned forward. “I haven’t met Ms. Anderson, but I’ve heard about her. One of the women in my congregation mentioned taking some classes at her shop. Would you like to approach her, Matt?”
“I’ll be happy to lay the groundwork. But I think the appeal would be more effective coming from Captain Turner.” The man opened a file and removed a letter. A copy of the first one he’d sent to Father Joe, Luke noted. “Father Joe shared your initial query letter with all of us. It was quite moving. No one would be able to speak as passionately—or convincingly—as you about how your friendship with Carlos motivated you to take this on. If I set up a meeting with Kelsey, would you be willing to pitch your idea and solicit her involvement?”
“That’s just the kind of thing I was hoping to do while I’m here.” Luke encompassed the group as he spoke. “If any of you want me to meet with possible supporters, I’m happy to do so. And Ms. Anderson sounds like the perfect person to talk with first.”
By the time the meeting broke up half an hour later, the board had compiled a list of resources, from the owner of the piece of property they hoped would someday be the site of the youth center, to the mayor of Saugatuck, to the manager of the hotel where Carlos had worked during his high school years.
As Father Joe led him out after all the others had left, the pastor paused in the small foyer, a twinkle in his eye. “I hope you weren’t planning too much R & R during your visit to Michigan. With the to-do list we’ve already compiled, you won’t have a lot of downtime. We clerics are great delegators, you know.”
The whisper of a smile tugged at Luke’s lips. “That’s okay. I didn’t come here to play.”
“Good thing.” The man studied him, his hand on the knob. “Not many people would take on a selfless job like this, Luke. I know you and Carlos worked together, and I understand that strong friendships can be forged on the battlefield. But I can’t help thinking there’s more driving you to take on this project.”
Doing his best to keep his features neutral, Luke clenched his fingers around the handle of his briefcase. “I saw a lot of death overseas, Father. A lot of wasted potential. A lot of soldiers whose dreams died when they did. I can’t change that. But it is within my power to make one man’s dream come true. It seemed like a fitting way to end my military career.”
“Ah. Closure.” The older man nodded. “Well, you picked a worthy dream to pursue. And a fine young man to honor.”
“The best.” Luke’s voice hoarsened, and he cleared his throat.
Father Joe opened the door and scanned the blue sky, giving Luke a chance to regain his composure. “What a beautiful day. Why don’t you take advantage of it before Matthew calls and sends you off to see Kelsey Anderson?”
“I think I’ll do that.” Luke stepped past him, then turned to shake his hand. “Thank you for coordinating this.”
“The thanks are all ours.” The man clasped Luke’s hand within both of his. “God go with you, Luke.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“You may. He never fails those who put their trust in Him.”
As Luke strode toward his rental car, he raised his eyes to the heavens above the church, tracing the outline of the cross that soared toward the sky. God had gone with him so far. While many of his comrades had lost their faith amid the carnage of war, his had held fast for years. But finally, bone-weary from the constant onslaught of senseless death and man’s inhumanity to man, his faith had faltered, too.
In the end, though, God had sent Carlos into his life. A young man whose heart burned with love for the Lord. Who had reminded him that in the midst of trauma and tragedy, good survived. Hope endured. Dreams flourished. Working with him day after day, watching him give tirelessly with a compassion that put the Good Samaritan to shame, had reinvigorated Luke’s own faith.
Even as he lay dying, the young medic had been a source of inspiration. His eyes had been filled with the kind of peace that only comes from knowing you’ve done your best to follow the precepts of the Lord and are ready to meet Him face-to-face. His one regret, he’d told Luke, was that his dream to help young people back home would never be realized.
As he’d held the young man’s hand, watching his life slip away while artillery shells burst around them, Luke had choked out a promise that his dream wouldn’t die.
Gratitude had smoothed the lines of pain from Carlos’s face, and he’d summoned up the last of his strength to speak. When Luke leaned close, he’d whispered, “Thank you.”
And then the medic had tightened his grip and uttered two short sentences Luke would never forget.
“Let not your heart be troubled, my friend. God will bring good from this.”
Moments later, Carlos’s hand had grown slack in his.
The outline of the soaring cross blurred, and Luke blinked to clear his vision. His faith wasn’t as strong as Carlos’s. Especially after ten brutal years of treating battlefield injuries. But he intended to make certain at least one good thing came from the young man’s death.
And as he unlocked his car and slid behind the wheel, he renewed the vow he’d made that day in Afghanistan. Before he left Michigan in six weeks, the youth center Carlos had dreamed of would be well on its way to becoming a reality.
Whatever it took.
Chapter Three
The bell over the front door of the shop jingled behind her, and Kelsey checked her watch as she typed the final figures into the spreadsheet on the computer. Ten o’clock. On the dot. It had to be the army doctor her pastor had called about yesterday. He’d said the man would stop by around ten. And the military was nothing if not regimented.
“Give me one sec.” She threw the comment over her shoulder as she hit Save. She wasn’t thrilled about dusting off her PR skills or opening the door to her old life, but it was hard to say no to a godly man like Reverend Howard. And the youth center project did sound worthwhile. Besides, it wouldn’t kill her to consult with the doctor for an hour, considering the amount of time he was investing.
Summoning up a smile, she swung around in her chair. “I’m sorry to keep you wai—”
The breath whooshed out of her lungs.
Her new neighbor stood six feet away. The one with the broad shoulders and impressive biceps.
Not that his biceps were on display today. Instead of a chest-hugging T-shirt and shorts, he was wearing a sport coat with a subtle herringbone pattern, tan slacks and spit-and-polished dress shoes. He looked professional. Reputable. Honorable.
And as
stunned as she was.
“Kelsey Anderson?”
She opened her mouth to respond.
Nothing came out.
No surprise there. It was hard enough to breathe, let alone speak, with the man towering over her. Making her feel small. Vulnerable. Powerless.
“Well…good morning! We don’t often have gentlemen venture into our establishments.”
At Dorothy’s cheerful welcome, the man turned. Giving Kelsey a chance to catch her breath.
Thank You, Lord!
Her shop mate was still hidden from Kelsey’s view by the man’s tall form, but her words registered loud and clear. “Dorothy Martin. I own Tea for Two.” A hand shot out to gesture toward the other side of the shop. “You must be the army captain Kelsey told me about. I was just making a tea and scones delivery to my lovely neighbor. She must be in the back. I’ll be happy to get her…”
Kelsey gripped the arms of her chair and struggled to her feet. At the squeak of her chair, Dorothy peeked around the visitor.
“Oh. There you are, my dear. Did I interrupt a conversation?”
“No. I just arrived. And I’m afraid I startled Ms. Anderson.” The army doctor moved toward her and extended his hand. “Luke Turner.”
Kelsey inched closer, wiping her palm on her slacks before she placed her fingers in his. As their hands connected, he flicked a quick glance down.
“The burn seems to be healing well.”
Dorothy tipped her head and set the tea and scones on the counter. “You two have met before?”
Kelsey tugged her hand free and took a step back. “Yes. Captain—Doctor—Turner is the new neighbor I mentioned to you.” She tried to keep her inflection neutral, but Dorothy’s sharp look told her the other woman had picked up her nervousness.
The slight narrowing of Luke Turner’s eyes told her he had, too.
“My goodness!” Dorothy’s hand fluttered to her chest. “What an odd coincidence!” She motioned toward the snack she’d delivered and raised an eyebrow at Kelsey. “If you’d like to talk in the tearoom, I could bring a pot out for you to share.”
Kelsey thanked her with her eyes. The closer she was to her dear friend, the safer she’d feel.
“That would be lovely. Thank you, Dorothy.” She inclined her head toward the other half of the shop and addressed Luke. “It will be more comfortable to have our discussion over there.”
As she grabbed a pen and notebook off her desk, he surveyed the sturdy chairs around the table in the corner where she held classes. In truth, they would better suit his tall frame. He’d be more comfortable here. But much to her relief, he followed her to the other side without comment.
“You two go right ahead with your business while I put on a pot of tea.” Dorothy deposited Kelsey’s scones and china cup on a table for two, brushed a miniscule speck off the pristine white cloth, and hurried toward the kitchen.
Pulling out one of the dainty chairs, Luke held it while Kelsey sat. Then he took the one on the opposite side of the table. The furniture seemed undersized to his large frame, and Kelsey felt foolish for insisting they move their discussion to this side of the shop.
Best to dive in so he could be on his way as quickly as possible.
“Reverend Howard was very enthusiastic about your project when he called.” She tried for a conversational tone, but her voice came out sounding stiff.
Luke regarded her across the snowy expanse of linen, the expression in his dark brown eyes unreadable. “Before we get to that, may I ask you a question?”
A caution bell rang in her mind. “About what?”
“About why I make you nervous.”
She swallowed. “You don’t make me nervous.”
Arching his eyebrows, he inspected the plate in front of her.
She looked down. A pile of crumbs was all that was left of the scone she’d pulverized.
Warmth rose to her cheeks, and she clasped her hands in her lap. It was silly to deny the obvious. But neither was she about to explain her reaction to this stranger.
When the silence between them lengthened, Luke rested his elbows on the table, steepled his fingers and frowned. “Have we ever met before that day on the beach, Ms. Anderson?”
“No.”
“Then I must have done something to offend—or alarm—you during our short acquaintance.”
“No. You haven’t.” She took a deep breath. “This isn’t a personal issue, Captain—Doctor—which do you prefer?”
“I prefer Luke.” He pinned her with an intent gaze and let a few beats of silence tick by. “Let me be honest. This youth center is too important to fall victim to a personality…quirk—for want of a better term. We need someone with your skills to help us build public awareness, but if you don’t think we can work together, tell me now and I’ll ask the board to suggest someone else.”
Taken aback by his candor, Kelsey lifted her cup with shaky fingers and took a sip of tea. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
“There’s no time for indecision on the battlefield, Ms. Anderson. Nor do I have time to waste during my stay here. There’s a lot to be done in six weeks.”
Kelsey heard the foundation of steel under what sounded like a very faint Southern drawl. Luke Turner, it seemed, was a cut-to-the-chase kind of man, with little patience for indecisiveness.
“It must be nice to always be so certain about decisions.”
She hadn’t meant to speak that thought. Especially in a tone that was both wistful and reproachful. And the man across from her seemed as surprised by it as she was.
“I’m not certain how to interpret that.” A defensive note crept into his voice.
“Here you go. A nice pot of tea and some more scones.” Dorothy pushed through the door from the kitchen and hurried over with a laden tray. Luke rose and took it from her while she transferred the items to the table. “Thank you, young man. Such nice manners. A true Southern gentleman. That is a Southern accent I detect, isn’t it?”
He smiled at her. “You have a good ear. I’ve been gone a long time, but I was born and raised in Atlanta.”
“A fine city. Well, you two go right ahead with your chat. I’ll be busy in the kitchen until my guests start arriving at eleven, but you just call out if you need anything and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
The latter remark was directed to Kelsey, and she sent the older woman a quick smile of thanks.
When the door swung shut behind Dorothy, Kelsey turned her attention to the army doctor. Picking up the teapot, she filled his cup. “For the record, I never let personal feelings get in the way of a job. Now, in the interest of not wasting your time, why don’t you tell me a little about the project so I can see if it’s a good fit with my skills? Reverend Howard didn’t give me many details. All he said was that you became friends with a medical corpsman from this area, and after he was killed you decided to spearhead an effort to build a youth center here in his honor, as part of the Interdenominational Youth Fellowship program.”
“That about sums it up.”
Kelsey set the teapot back on the table. Her pastor had also told her Luke Turner was passionate about the project. But she was picking up more caution than passion.
Her fault, no doubt. She’d treated him with nothing but suspicion and animosity in their few encounters. Yet from everything she’d heard and seen, he appeared to be a principled, compassionate…safe man. What could she have to fear from a former army doctor who was backed by a board of clergymen?
She forced herself to meet his eyes. “Captain Turner, I—”
“Luke.”
“Luke.” She moistened her lips. “The truth is, I’m a bit battle-scarred myself. And overly wary. I apologize if I’ve offended you. Maybe we should start over.”
He gave a slow nod and lifted his cup. “I’ll drink to that.”
Following his lead, she picked up her cup, clinked it with his and took a sip. He did, too—then grimaced.
A smile tugged at her lips. “N
ot a tea drinker?”
One side of his mouth hitched up and he checked over his shoulder. “I don’t want to offend Ms. Martin, but no. I like coffee. Strong and black. Just like Carlos did.” His lips flattened.
“Would you mind telling me a little about him?”
At her quiet request, Luke stared into his tea. “We worked together for six months during my last deployment. I dealt with a lot of medics through the years, but Carlos was special. He was only twenty-two, but he had an amazing bedside manner. With just a look or a touch, he could instill trust and calm even in the most restless patient. After he got out, he wanted to be a paramedic. He would have been a good one.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he took another sip of the tea he didn’t want.
“Carlos grew up in Saugatuck. His mother was unmarried, and she went to her grave without revealing the name of his father. Carlos was only five when she died, and his grandmother took him in. They were poor, and he resented that—among other things. He got in with the wrong crowd in his freshman year of high school, and according to him, he gave his grandmother a lot of grief.
“But she was determined to straighten him out. So, after he was picked up on a minor shoplifting charge, she got together with the police chief and the shop owner, who were personal friends, and they worked out a deal. If he assisted Father Joe with the Interdenominational Youth Fellowship program for six months, the charges would be dropped.”
“How did that go over with him?” Kelsey took a bite of her still-intact scone.
Luke’s lips twitched. “Not well, according to Carlos. He agreed, but only under duress. However, much to his surprise, he liked the group—and the new pastor at his church. Father Joe became the father figure he never had. According to Carlos, Father Joe and the youth program turned his life around. Once he got out of the army and established his career, he wanted to start a fundraising drive to build a youth center for the program. A permanent place, where young people could gather instead of having to move from church hall to church hall.”