by JoAnn Durgin
“That guy’s like the most religious person I’ve ever met,” Felipe whispered as those in the dining hall echoed Sam’s amen at the end of his prayer. “That was still decent of him to introduce me. Is he a priest or something? He sounds like one but he doesn’t wear all black or have one of those little white collars.”
Angelina kept her voice low. “He’s not a priest. Sam and Lexa are awesome people. All the TeamWork members are great.”
“Do they go around talking about God all the time? That can get old real fast.”
“No, but I’m sure they don’t even think about it.”
Felipe’s skepticism was obvious in his expression. “What’s that mean?”
“God’s a natural, personal part of their lives. That’s how they live. You talk to your friends about things going on in your life, right?” She waited until Felipe nodded and then continued. “That’s how it is with the people here in the camp. God’s their friend. He’s a living, breathing presence in their lives.”
Felipe didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Hold the fort! This isn’t like one of those weird religious cults or anything, is it? You know”—he pretended to drink something and then grabbed his throat with both hands as if he were choking—“where they poison themselves? ’Cause if it is, just tell me now.”
Angelina stared at him. “That’s an awful thing to say! I hope you’ll give them a chance to get to know you. I can guarantee you they’ll be praying for your sorry soul tonight.”
That made her sound like a snit. In truth, Felipe had been pretty nice to her. Still, it was discouraging that what she’d told him hadn’t seemed to sink through his thick skull. She needed to give him time. It’s not like she could snap her fingers and he’d immediately start living for Jesus. She needed to be patient and show him by example.
“I’m still trying to get used to Dean.”
That comment surprised her although she’d noticed a strain between the two guys on the trip to New Mexico. “If you ask me, you couldn’t have a better surrogate parent than Dean Costas.”
“Surrogate? I thought that was a woman who has a baby for a couple who can’t have kids.”
Angelina couldn’t help it. She giggled. “It’s like a substitute. I mean, Dean didn’t have to take you in, but he did, anyway.”
Felipe snorted. “From what I know, the judge pretty much ordered him to take me.”
Angelina met his gaze. “I don’t know that a judge can tell a single man he has to take you. But whether or not he did, Dean stepped up and took responsibility. Even though you don’t know him well, he’s family. Come on, Felipe. You have to admire him for that.”
“Yeah, maybe, since no one else wanted me.” He’d muttered that statement, half under his breath. Angelina lowered her gaze, consumed with sadness. She couldn’t imagine being in his position. All things considered, he’d turned out okay. Maybe Felipe needed someone to believe and trust in him. Wasn’t that, deep down, what everyone wanted?
“Hi, Angelina.” Cassie put a plate of meatloaf slices and a bowl of steaming green beans on the table. She smiled at Felipe. “Hi, Felipe. I’m Cassie Jacobsen. It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for helping us out on our mission.”
Felipe thanked Cassie and watched as she left their table. “These women around here are fine. Not a dog in the bunch.”
“That’s so chauvinistic and derogatory,” she hissed. Angelina’s frown deepened and she shot him a look she hoped conveyed her disgust. “To think I was about to compliment you. For a tiny little second there, I’d started to believe you might have some manners hidden inside that crime-riddled body of yours. Guess I was wrong.”
Patience.
Felipe laughed, displaying a great set of teeth framed by a terrific smile. Must be inherited since she doubted a kid with his background would have worn braces or had regular dental care. Oops. Was that stereotyping?
“See, that’s why I need you to reform me, Angel. If it makes you feel better, you’re the prettiest woman around. But you might as well admit it now.” He waved his hand across his chest. “You like this body.”
Angelina sputtered and started to rise from the bench. Might as well let Felipe know right now that he couldn’t get away with saying things like that to her. She wouldn’t tolerate it.
Felipe put one hand on her arm. “I take it back, Angel. Really. I’m sorry. I say dumb things without thinking all the time. I’ll try to be better.”
She looked at him long and hard and then down at his hand on her arm.
“Go on,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “Leave me if you want.” Something surfaced in his eyes, but she couldn’t begin to figure out what it was. Sadness? Hope? Longing for something he wanted but couldn’t have for some reason? Far be it from her to know.
Angelina dropped back down on the bench. “For one thing,” she huffed, “I’m not a woman. Yet.”
The grin he turned on her was maddening. She needed to watch what she said.
“You think I’m touching that line after you yelled at me?” Felipe shook his head. “No matter how old I get, I swear I’ll never understand your species.”
“Well, then, I guess that makes us even. And stop swearing about stuff so much.” Angelina didn’t say another word as they filled their plates and began to eat. Surprisingly, neither did Felipe.
She’d prayed before leaving on this trip that she could be a positive influence on him.
So far, that plan hadn’t worked out so well.
Chapter 7
~~♥~~
Eliot knocked on the screen door outside Sam’s family’s quarters. “Sam, it’s Eliot. You in here?”
“I’m back in the office. Come on in.”
Closing the door behind him, Eliot stepped inside the small building. He liked the way Lexa managed to make it homey. A nice quilt covered the bed, and lots of throw pillows added a nice personal touch. Cozy, and that was a word he rarely used. Smelled pretty good, too. Seemed even Sam made concessions to femininity. As he walked past the left side of the bed, he caught sight of a Bible nestled between the pillows. He could definitely learn a few things from this couple.
Eliot ducked through the doorway of the small office and nodded at Sam where he sat behind a small desk. The room wasn’t much more than four walls, the desk, a bulletin board, and a couple of chairs. Sam’s laptop was open and he gestured to the folding chair on the other side of the desk. “Have a seat. Just getting ready for tonight’s devotions.”
“Sorry to interrupt. Got a few minutes?”
“Not a problem. My door’s always open.” Leaning back in his chair, Sam crossed his arms behind his head and stretched. “What’s on your mind?”
“Marta.”
Sam’s lips creased in a wide grin. “No fooling. Is there something specific about Marta that you’d like to discuss?”
Might as well get straight to the matter. “I’ve dated a lot, but I’ve never had an ongoing relationship other than for a few months at a time in school. The fact of the matter, Sam—and trust me, I feel like the biggest kind of fool for admitting this—is that I don’t know how to be a…boyfriend.”
Based on Sam’s expression, the man was trying not to smile. “Once you get to a certain age, the term ‘boyfriend’ sounds rather juvenile. As far as being in a relationship, it starts with liking and admiring a woman. Wanting to spend more time with her. From what I’ve seen, that’s not an issue between you and Marta.”
“It’s not.” Eliot shifted on the uncomfortable chair. “Here’s the thing. As you know, my lifestyle isn’t exactly conducive to dating. Some of my assignments have required that I spend time with women. But since I became a Christian, I’ve never compromised my vows to the Lord regarding purity.”
When Sam nodded, Eliot knew this man understood he’d compromised a whole lot more before giving control of his life to Christ. He’d confessed his transgressions to the Lord and knew he’d been forgiven unconditionally. Now it was time to move forward and
not dwell on the things he couldn’t change. He only prayed Marta would understand. He wanted a chance for a relationship with her, not the door slammed in his face with finality.
“Care to elaborate on the meaning of spending time?” Sam said.
“On occasion, in order to make a situation believable, I’ve dated a woman here and there. Done some kissing but nothing more than that. And not for purely selfish reasons or for pleasure.”
“Have you ever gotten emotionally involved with any of the women?”
“No, not even before I became a Christian. I won’t lie and say it’s been easy.”
Sam nodded slowly. “You’re wondering how your job will be affected if you start a relationship with Marta. And vice versa.”
“Pretty much, yes. The first thing I thought when I saw Marta standing in that field today was how much I care about her. I’ll confess my thoughts weren’t exactly pure.”
“You don’t need to confess anything to me, Eliot. That’s between you and the Lord.”
“I know, but as my friend and mentor, I want you to know. And yes, I spent a few minutes in prayer before dinner.” Shaking his head, Eliot started to rise from his chair. “Forget it. Thanks, but I’ll work it out.”
“Sit. You’re here and it’s important. Talking about it will help.” Sam motioned for him to take the chair again. “I take it you’re hoping to begin a relationship with Marta during this mission?”
“That’s pretty much it, yes. With your permission.”
Sam’s brows lifted and he seemed surprised by that last statement. “You’re a hard worker and so is Marta, but I’m no taskmaster. You should have a lot of time to spend with Marta while you’re here. I’d encourage you to take full advantage of those opportunities and create more of your own. She wants to work over at the church site, too. I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”
Eliot nodded. “I respect Marta. You know that, Sam. But, in some ways, I’m not sure I’m worthy of her.”
“I know the standards of morality in your home country can be different. And you didn’t become a believer until you were in your early twenties.” Sam closed his laptop and drummed his fingers on the case before his blue eyes met Eliot’s gaze. “Not to mention your family isn’t just any family. As far as your job, you’re in a unique position, Eliot. Of course, I don’t know any specifics—as it should be—but your assignments have possible far-reaching implications, including the potential to impact national security at times. Am I right?”
“You are.”
“I can’t begin to imagine what that’s like,” Sam said.
Eliot raked his hand through his hair. “How can I start something with Marta knowing I’ll probably be asked to do the same thing again? That’d be cheating, and I couldn’t do that. Not to any woman, but especially not to Marta.”
“I admire your sensitivity to the situation from Marta’s point of view. The way I see it, you also have an opportunity here in New Mexico that you’ve never had before. I suggest you take a walk with Marta tonight. Be honest and tell her as much as you can. Open up and share your heart.”
“How can I do that without telling her, ‘Oh, by the way, sometimes I have to kiss another woman, but it means nothing’? Marta’s a strong woman, and I’m not sure she’d be accepting or forgiving of that kind of scenario. She’d probably accuse me of being an escort.”
Sam ran one hand over his chin and the corners of his lips lifted. “Not to make light of it, but I’m sure a lot of men would consider your position enviable. Like an actor, you’re sometimes required to play a part, but what you do is as real as life gets.”
“Actors get to go home at the end of the day and leave it all behind,” Eliot said. “I’m in it 24/7.” Just thinking about it made him tired. Maybe he should take a vacation. Go somewhere and sleep for a few days. Take his Bible and spend time in prayer. Renew his soul.
“I’m sure it’s mentally exhausting. That’s why I hope you take time off when you can. No man can keep up that kind of pace indefinitely.” Sam sat back in his chair. “I also know how things change when you meet that one special woman.”
Standing, Eliot crossed his arms and began to pace beside the desk. “There was a time when I considered that aspect of my assignments as a perk of the job. Like I said, I’ve never become emotionally involved and I’ve always made it a point to avoid entanglements. Sometimes it took some well-choreographed footwork. After I met Marta a few years ago, I began see things differently. Now it’s to the point where I think of Marta all the time. I’m sure she’d find it amusing if she knew that I’ve prayed for her all over the world. She probably has no clue how much I care about her.”
“I’m sure that’s true, but I also know Marta would want to know,” Sam said. “She’s one of the most loyal, open and honest women I’ve ever known.”
“On the level here.” Eliot stopped pacing and met Sam’s gaze head-on as he planted both hands on the desk. “Do you think I have a chance with her? I’m talking long term, not a two-week romance. If I’m going to pursue this, I’m in it full throttle.”
Sam smiled. “Yes, I’d say you definitely have a chance with Marta. May I make another suggestion?”
“Please do. That’s why I’m here. I need the benefit of your wisdom.” Squaring his shoulders, Eliot rotated his neck to ease out some pesky kinks. A good reminder that he wasn’t getting any younger, although he still had a number of years to serve in his current capacity.
“Talk to your superiors and see if you can be given assignments where you won’t be put in a position where you feel uncomfortable or that you’re compromising your morals and personal convictions. They should be able to read between the lines. You’ve been with them a number of years now, and I’m sure you’re an invaluable part of the team.”
“I hope you’re right. That also brings up something else.” Eliot lowered his voice. “If anything unforeseen comes up on this mission and you need to give anyone information about me, my last name is Polaris. Stephen. There’s an ID in the back pocket of my wallet. Other than that, you know nothing.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “I hope that won’t be necessary, but I know you wouldn’t ask without reason.” He hesitated. “As I recall, Polaris is the brightest star in the constellation.”
“So they say.” The muscles in Eliot’s jaws flexed. “Then there’s the other part of the equation. The overriding factor, perhaps.” He swallowed. Hard. “If I start something with Marta, there’s always the possibility that—when I say good-bye to her before leaving for an assignment—I might not return. I’ve only had myself and my parents to think of up until this point, but bringing someone else into the picture? Would that be fair to Marta?”
For the past decade, his assignments had been his lifeblood and passion. No longer could he deny the stirrings for something more. Stirrings that had plagued him in the past few months. While there was something to be said for the routine, the familiar, the safe, he’d pushed aside those thoughts for fear he’d get sloppy. If he became too sloppy, a misstep could get him killed. It wouldn’t take much, and a constant female distraction could be the worst thing to happen.
Or the best.
Eliot glimpsed the compassion in Sam’s eyes. He sank onto the chair again.
“We all take a risk by loving someone, Eliot. The ultimate example, of course, being how God loved us enough to send His Son to live and walk among us all the while knowing He’d eventually be put to death. Of course, we can’t know what our future brings. Granted, your job’s dangerous, but I know Marta well enough to know she’d rather take the risk than not. She’s a good woman, a strong woman, who loves the Lord and has a heart for reaching the lost the same as you do. In my biased opinion, you two would be great together. As far as when you return to work, I hope you’ll keep this verse in mind: ‘The fear of man brings a snare, but he who trusts in the Lord will be exalted.’”
After Sam said a short prayer, Eliot almost choked on his words of gratitu
de. “Thanks, Sam.”
Sam rose from his chair and gestured for him to lead the way from the office. A few seconds later, he stepped beside Eliot on the porch. “As I suggested earlier, share your heart with Marta and then take it from there. I think the key is to make the decision together.”
“From what I understand, that’s the best way to build a strong foundation.”
“Works for me,” Sam said.
“Keep praying.”
Sam gave him a nod. “Always, brother.”
Chapter 8
~~♥~~
After helping with the kitchen cleanup, Marta walked the short distance to the devotional circle with Lexa. Glancing at her watch, she noted that at six-thirty, the sun had begun its descent on the horizon. Sam told them they wouldn’t be able to build a bonfire during their mission because of the dry conditions. That was a shame; she’d looked forward to making s’mores with the kids and something about a bonfire was special.
As they approached the devotional area, Marta stopped. The circumference of the circle was illuminated by paper bags placed at regular intervals between the log benches. “How beautiful!”
“The bags are called luminarias,” Lexa said. “It means lights or illuminations in Spanish. Pastor Chevy’s wife, Lila, brought these to us earlier today. There’s sand inside each bag to weight it down and a lit candle in the middle. I’ve asked Angelina and Felipe to bring the older kids out here after dinner each night to set them up.”
“I’ve seen them at Christmas and at cancer relays before,” Marta said. “They always lend an atmosphere of warmth and welcome.”
“I think so, too. Lila said luminarias are part of a southwestern tradition to commemorate Mary and Joseph’s journey to the stable. Then in the early 1800s, people began using luminarias instead of building bonfires.”
“Nice tradition. Seems Sam isn’t the only one who enjoys history.”
Lexa laughed. “Guilty as charged.”