by Cindy Kirk
Heads hung low. A few shook back and forth.
The teens owning up to what they hadn’t done pleased Ash. As frustration levels rose during the last task, so had voices, until the volume got stuck at yelling. They’d completed the exercise through brute force, not teamwork. But Rob’s question was directed at the teens, so Ash remained quiet.
“Screaming at each other isn’t communicating,” another teen added.
“If we don’t work as a team, we won’t get far,” a boy with wavy red hair and wearing a Seattle Seahawks T-shirt and board shorts answered.
A girl, her wrist covered in friendship bracelets, sighed. “Too bad we didn’t figure that out sooner.”
Two kids who’d started off strong, then gave up in the middle of the task, laughed, the sound full of nerves, not humor.
“You need one leader.” The boy’s serious voice matched his facial expression. “Someone who doesn’t act like a dictator and will listen to feedback.”
“You have to follow who’s in charge even if you might not agree with them,” said a girl, the self-appointed leader no one wanted to follow.
“Excellent observations.” Rob looked at each teen, waiting until he’d made eye contact before going to the next person. “Could any of you have completed this challenge alone?”
“No,” they said in unison.
“That’s right.” A satisfied smile graced Rob’s lips. “It’s one reason you struggled more with this task than others. You had to rely on each other to succeed.”
The redheaded kid snickered. “You set us up to fail.”
“Nope.” Rob leaned back on his hands. “Following a leader who does a task differently is lesson we must learn.”
“Impossible,” one mumbled.
Another nodded. “What does it matter? We won’t be on a ropes course again for a long time. If ever.”
Other kids agreed.
“True, but you have teachers and coaches. One day you’ll have a boss, unless you start your own company or win the lottery. Trust me, they’ll tell you what they want you to do. You might get married and have a spouse who wants things done a certain way.”
Several boys groaned.
Ash bit back his smile. He remembered the marriage preparation class he and Jenna had been required to take at church. The ropes course would be good for a couple to do together before planning their big wedding day and setting up their gift registry.
Rob stood, brushed his hands against each other. “Pick a new leader for the next element and show me what you’ve learned.”
Ash took the rear to keep stragglers from falling behind.
“Come on.” Jenna’s voice carried from the lower ropes course, where she and her group worked with their guide. Lack of elevation didn’t make a task easier. She clapped, the sound carrying on the warm air. “You’ve got this.”
Her enthusiasm and cheerleader attitude didn’t surprise Ash. But her chaperoning the more difficult group did. None of her teens acted like they wanted to be here.
Two boys dressed in black, with bangs hanging over their faces and shoulders hunched like they’d escaped from a nineties MTV show, had been looking for a place to hide since stepping off the bus. One girl’s eyes gleamed as if she might burst into tears with a wrong word or glance. Another girl complained about the lack of a cellular phone signal.
Had Jenna purposely chosen the more difficult path today? Ash didn’t know, but she hadn’t been that way before.
She clapped again. Whistled. “I know you can do it.”
On the ground, the noise level rose. The guide shouted directions. Jenna offered encouraging words.
Rob stopped to watch. “I don’t believe it.”
The I’d-rather-be-anywhere-but-here teens were killing the most difficult task on the course. Succeeding where the other groups had failed. At the end, the group of misfits and addicted texters high-fived, hugged, and shouted woot woots.
Rob pointed toward Jenna’s group. “That’s teamwork in action. The most efficient groups don’t always have the strongest individuals, but everyone working together and doing their part makes up for skills they lack.”
Jenna also knew how to encourage people to move beyond themselves and their comfort levels. When they were dating, she’d encouraged Ash to offer pro bono legal services through a community group. As soon as they broke up, he’d stopped. Lack of time due to his new job and too many memories of her, even though he’d found the volunteering fulfilling. Maybe he should start again.
Rob led the group to the next element. He grabbed hold of a safety tether. “This final challenge is called On The Edge. Working together and pushing yourself is key to completing the task. Who’s ready?”
Everyone, including Ash, raised hands. As soon as they took a break, he wanted to ask Rob to do a trust-building exercise with Jenna. One that might help Ash’s cause.
He liked the changes in her. The Jenna he’d known went along with whatever he’d said. The new Jenna was stronger, more confident, and not afraid to put herself out there or say what was on her mind.
Friends helped each other. He was going to do whatever he could for her.
During a break from the ropes course, Jenna stood leaning against a tree trunk. The teens lounged on the grass and ate Popsicles. She glanced at Rob, the guide who’d worked with Ash’s group. “You want me to do what?”
“The Trust Fall. You climb up on the platform and fall backwards.” He motioned to the adults. “They’ll catch you.”
Sam would catch her. She had no doubt about him. Toby and the guides too. But Amber would be worried about breaking a fingernail. And Ash . . .
No way.
Jenna forced a lighthearted smile. That was better than a save-me-now-Jesus gasp she held back. She knew He was with her, but she didn’t feel up to this. “Let someone else have a go. I’ll catch them.”
“You were picked.” Rob’s gaze narrowed. “Tell me what’s holding you back.”
They would be here all day. “I’ve never done something like this.”
That much was true, as were her reservations about Ash and Amber.
“The kids will be doing the exercise next.” Rob lowered his voice. “Seeing you do this will help them overcome any fears or doubts they might have.”
Why me? Why now? Jenna wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
“You haven’t backed down from any challenge.” Toby sat five feet away. Amber was at his side. The two had only been apart when they were with their respective groups.
“Come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Amber asked.
Could everyone hear this discussion?
Ash gave Jenna an encouraging smile. “We’re not going to drop you.”
If only she could believe him. But she didn’t. Uncertainty kept her from stepping forward. “Maybe not on purpose.”
“Eight people are required to catch you. The chaperones, then guides will fill in.”
Rob’s casual tone made this sound like no big deal. Maybe to him, but not to her. What he asked was huge.
Teens and adults stared at Jenna like she was performing center stage at worship service. That was the last place anyone would find her. But backing down would have repercussions. Teens might say no when their turn came, and she didn’t want that to happen. She was, in a word, stuck.
Her stomach sunk to her feet. Splat, how she would hit the ground if someone didn’t catch her.
Jenna recognized the benefit of the Trust Fall. Her hesitation told her she needed to do this even if she didn’t want to.
Slowing her breathing didn’t help calm her nerves. “You’ve done this before, right?”
“Many times.” Rob’s smile didn’t waver. “This is a mental challenge, not a physical one. Walk by faith.”
Jenna understood. She’d been living that way since she stumbled into Pastor Dan’s church that rainy afternoon. She trusted her group, aka the detention crew, to catch her more than Ash and Amber. Not that either
would let something happen to Jenna on purpose, but subconsciously . . .
Guilt coated her dry mouth. She shouldn’t think that.
“Do it, do it,” the teens chanted.
She looked at Sam. He winked, then grinned. Some friend he was.
“I’ll be there to catch you.” Sam’s tongue was bright orange from eating a Popsicle. “No worries.”
Easy for him to say. Her heart pounded like a timpani while her pulse resembled a snare roll.
Ash walked toward her, his steps purposeful. “You can do this.”
A lump formed in her throat. “Not sure I can.”
He stopped next to her, placed his mouth by her ear. His warm breath blew against her skin, soft like a caress. If she turned her face to the right, his mouth would be nearly touching her lips.
Bad idea.
“I won’t let you fall,” he whispered. “I promise.”
Oh, how she wanted to believe him. She’d believed him before, only to be dropped by him in the worst possible way. In public, for all to witness. She’d survived that. She didn’t know if she could survive again.
Jenna trembled, but she had to keep the youth group kids in mind. She’d worked with the teens and Sam for over a year. The program grew from the kids’ word of mouth. She couldn’t allow her fear to jeopardize Sam’s hard work.
Ash’s gaze remained on her, a connection she wasn’t sure how to define. “Climb up there.”
Praying for courage, she made her way to the four-foot-high platform and climbed the ladder. Her legs trembled with each rung. The kids applauded. On top, she gave a bow, but her insides twisted like curling ribbon on a gift.
Logically the chances of being dropped were slim. The course elements they’d finished had been more challenging, yet doing the Trust Fall was taking every ounce of strength and courage she could muster.
Ash took his place, crossed his arms with Sam’s. Toby did the same across from Amber. Pairs of guides stood on either side of the four.
Rob hopped onto the platform. “See how they’ve made a canopy to catch you.”
She nodded. Her voice would sound too shaky if she spoke.
“Turn around,” Rob said.
Her gaze lingered on Ash, then she turned.
Rob gave her an I-know-you-can-do-this smile. “Now fall backwards.”
Jenna tried to relax her tense muscles. She shook her hands, as if that would make any difference about being caught. And then she realized she had no reason to worry or be afraid.
Knowing who had their arms crossed waiting for her to fall didn’t matter. She had nothing to fear. She trusted He would be there to catch her the way He had been so far.
She closed her eyes, leaned back, and fell into the air.
Later that afternoon, Ash sat in a booth at a café in downtown Sweetwater. Empty plates once full of appetizers covered the table. He and Jenna sat on a bench seat opposite Toby and Amber. Sam had a date so he’d headed home, even though he, too, had been starving after the ropes course.
Toby set his glass of iced tea on the table. “I’m never going to forget the look on Amber’s face when she realized she had to catch Jenna. Pure panic.”
“Well, I honestly didn’t think you’d do it.” Amber studied her fingernails. “I was sure you’d back out at the last minute.”
“That’s okay. I had doubts myself.” Jenna’s eyes shone brightly. “But I’m glad I went through with it.”
The Trust Fall had been a struggle for her, but Ash couldn’t have been prouder of Jenna. He picked up his huckleberry lemonade, the café’s specialty. The condensation from the glass felt good against his palm after a hot day outside, working and playing.
“Not as glad as Rob.” Ash laughed. “The guy was sweating bullets until you got on that platform.”
Toby nodded. “Thought Rob might offer to do the fall himself, but Jenna’s group never had any doubt.”
“Neither did I.” Ash hadn’t, even if she’d hesitated. Nothing wrong with taking her time. Made sense, given he and Amber had broken her trust and would be catching her. He understood her reservations.
“Next time someone else can take the fall,” Jenna teased.
Next time.
The thought appealed to Ash. Getting outside, surrounded by trees and fresh air, was good for him. The course had challenged his muscles and his mind. Spending time with Jenna had been the best part, filling him with contentment and making him want more.
“I’d do this again. Today has to be one of my most fun days in . . .” Ash did a quick calculation. The date was over two years ago, back when he was engaged to Jenna. “A while.”
“Sam always needs volunteers.” She leaned back against the booth. Her eyelids looked heavy, as if she needed a nap. “If you have time to help out, give him a call.”
“Is that what you do?” Toby asked.
Jenna nodded. “There aren’t many Saturday events. We’ve had the ropes course planned for months, so I kept the date open. But the group meets every Tuesday and has an optional Bible study on Thursday.”
“Sam keeps the kids busy,” Toby said.
“That’s the best way to keep them out of trouble.” Jenna rubbed the back of her neck, making Ash wish he could do that for her—then she could return the favor. “Life is rougher on the east side of town. Many kids are from single-parent homes. Most need someone who’ll listen. Sam hopes to start a mentoring program.”
“I’ll touch base with him.” If Ash happened to see Jenna while volunteering, that would be a bonus. Like dinner tonight.
“This was fun. But I prefer an activity where I don’t break any fingernails.” Amber held up her right hand. “Good thing I’m having a gel manicure done for the wedding.”
Toby kissed Amber’s hand. “Broken nails or not, I appreciate the way you stepped out of your comfort zone for those kids. You were great.”
Amber beamed. “I guess a couple broken nails was a small price to pay.”
Toby stared into her eyes and nodded.
Ash realized this was likely his sister’s first service opportunity beyond buying gifts off giving trees at Christmastime or donating money and canned food. He would talk to Amber about getting involved in the youth group too.
“A good day all around,” Jenna said.
“I know who to thank.” Ash raised his glass. “Here’s to Jenna for inviting us, trusting us to catch her when she fell, and not screaming once gravity took over.”
She tapped her glass against his, then Amber’s and Toby’s. “I was too busy praying to scream.”
Ash believed that. The urge to put his arm around her the way he’d always done was strong, but he didn’t want to ruin dinner. Controlling his growing attraction wasn’t easy.
Jenna glowed with her newfound confidence, contentment, and faith. Not only visible, but appealing. Getting involved at Sweetwater Community Church had been good for her. He wanted to attend a service and see what she’d found there. Maybe that would help him.
Amber shivered. “I’m glad they didn’t pick me.”
Toby gave her a one-arm hug. “You would have fallen off backwards.”
“Maybe.” Amber sounded doubtful. “But I wouldn’t have wanted to go first.”
“The kids did well.” Jenna toyed with her cloth napkin. She didn’t look nervous, but her fingers hadn’t stopped moving for the past five minutes.
“They were successful because they saw you do the Trust Fall even though you weren’t sure.” Ash smiled, easy to do when he was around her. If only things could be different between them. He didn’t want to go back to where they’d been two years ago. He wanted to start fresh. Maybe today would be a new beginning. His gaze locked on hers. “Excellent job.”
She smiled at him.
He smiled back.
Ash could sit with her the rest of the night and be happy. A strand of hair fell forward across her face. He tucked the piece behind her ear. So beautiful.
“Oh, no!” Amber’s vo
ice resembled a shriek. She tugged on Toby’s arm. “I forgot we had plans tonight. This has been great, but we have to go. Now.”
Toby’s brow drew together. “I don’t have anything in my calendar.”
“I must have forgotten to tell you.” She placed the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Come on, sweetie.”
Two twenty-dollar bills dropped onto the table, courtesy of Toby. “This will cover our portion. See you later.”
“I’ll be in touch about your wedding,” Jenna said.
“Sounds good.” Amber scooted out of the booth. She practically sprinted to the door with Toby at her heels.
Jenna stared after them. “Must be important plans.”
“With Amber you never know.”
The waiter removed the empty plates. “Tonight for dessert we have a three-layer chocolate cake with fudge filling and icing, crème brûlée, cherry cheesecake, or a marionberry cobbler with a scoop of French vanilla ice cream.”
“Marionberry cobbler,” the two said at the same time.
Jenna’s cheeks turned a charming shade of pink.
“Would that be one cobbler or two?” the waiter asked.
“I don’t think I can eat one myself,” she said.
“Me, either.” Ash looked at the waiter. “One, please. With two spoons.”
“Coming right up.” The waiter carried the dishes away.
“We both still like berries,” she said. “Marionberry cobbler.”
“Huckleberry lemonade.”
“Raspberry vinaigrette.”
They used to play this game when they shared food. He was out of practice coming up with another food item. “Strawberry smoothie.”
“Blackberry jam.”
He wasn’t about to be outdone. “Blueberry muffins.”
“Boysenberry syrup.”
“Cranberry jelly.”
Jenna’s shoulders slumped. “You win.”
Ash had won the moment she sat next to him. He nudged his arm against hers. “Not bad for being out of practice.”