Enchantment: A Christian Romance Novel (The Lewis Legacy Series Book 6)

by JoAnn Durgin

  “Gracie’s been asking for a baby sister. More like begging and coercing.” Gracie sat on her mother’s lap, and Natalie kissed her cheek. “She takes after her daddy in that way.”

  Marc laughed. “Not only does Gracie want a baby sister, but she’s insisting we name her Macy, Tracy, or Lacy. We’re negotiating.” His smile sobered. “The agency has given us the necessary assurances, and we have faith that an adoption would be aboveboard and sound. Friends, there’s a baby girl in China who needs a family. So…we’re going to be her family.”

  Marta jumped up with the other ladies as they all rushed over to Marc and Natalie. Winnie and Rebekah were first in line to throw their arms around their friends and hug them, and it seemed as though everyone was talking at once. Glancing at Sam and Lexa, Marta suspected they’d been tipped off to this news, especially when she caught the look shared between Sam and Marc across the circle. Those guys were tight. Josh slapped Marc on the back and they chatted like they’d been close friends for years, making it hard to comprehend that those two men had once weathered some deep personal rivalry and dissension.

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am for you and Marc,” Marta whispered to Natalie when it was her turn. Giving her a hug, she planted a quick kiss on her friend’s cheek. On the other side of Natalie, Gayle echoed her congratulations.

  “Thanks,” Natalie said. “Keep praying for us. We’ll be raising two children close in age. Almost like twins, and we’re not planning on finding out ahead of time if I’m expecting a boy or girl. Are we completely crazy or what?”

  Wrapping her arm around Natalie’s waist, Lexa joined them. “You’ll be fine, and Winnie and I are always happy to give you long distance advice. Plus you know Sam’s always willing to tell Marc a thing or two. I take it you’ll be flying to China with Marc next month?”

  “Try and stop me. As long as my doctor okays it, but I don’t foresee any problems even though it’s a long trip.” Her daughter was standing next to her, and Natalie reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Gracie’s coming, too. We’re hoping to have our new daughter home and settled in with us before the next little one arrives.”

  The group began to disband and their animated chatter faded into the quiet of the night. Cassie and Mitch were among the last to leave and Marta walked over to her.

  “I think someone’s waiting to speak with you,” Cassie said. “How are things going?”

  “Things are…wonderful. One thing about this TeamWork crew is that they know how fast a relationship can develop. This mission has already proven to be eventful.”

  “All it took was a weekend for Mitch and me. Think what can happen in two weeks.” Cassie waved as she and Mitch started the walk back to the camp. “We’ll catch up soon.”

  “You know it.”

  As she waved good-bye to her friends, Marta spied Eliot still sitting on the bench. He gave her an inviting smile. “Sit with me again if you’re not too tired. How’s the knee?”

  She appreciated his concern as she sat beside him. “Sore but not swollen, thanks to your ministrations. Thanks again.”

  “Glad to hear it, and you’re welcome.”

  Marta inhaled the scents of the trees, the night, the air. “We have such a terrific group, don’t we? Really committed to each other. That’s rare and special. Definitely something to treasure.”

  Eliot’s gaze fell on her. “You’re sounding contemplative tonight.”

  “I guess I am.” She played with the string on her hoodie, wrapping it around one finger. “There are times when I wish I’d been in Montana on that personal mission to help Marc and Natalie.”

  “You hadn’t joined TeamWork yet or I’m sure you would’ve been there.” Eliot removed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

  “Thanks, but what’s this for?” Pulling the leather jacket closer about her, Marta enjoyed the masculine scent emanating from it. After this mission, she’d never smell a leather jacket again without associating it with Eliot.

  “You shivered.”

  “I did? You’re the most observant man I’ve ever known.” She nudged his leg. “Maybe I should come to you each morning and ask you what I should be doing or how I should be feeling.”

  Although he chuckled, Eliot stared straight ahead. “I’m paid to notice details.”

  “No one’s paying you now. Not that I’m not appreciative, but it’s a little scary sometimes how you seem to know what I’m feeling before I do.”

  “That’s not possible,” he said. “You know how you’re feeling. You don’t think about it. Or you don’t pay attention to it.”

  “Okay then.” She drew in a quick breath. An undercurrent ran between them but far be it from her to understand what it was or what it meant. “Is something going on with you tonight? You’re giving off a something’s bugging me and I’m not sure I want to talk about it vibe. I vote we either talk about it or close up shop and call it a night. Start fresh in the morning.”

  Clasping his hands together between his legs, Eliot ducked his head. “It’s not always about you, Marta.”

  She swallowed, stung by his words. “Trust me, I know that. Please help me to understand.”

  He turned toward her and their knees bumped. “No, I don’t think you do. I’m not talking about you being egocentric or selfish. It’s not a reaction to you or anything you’ve said or done. I’m talking about the fact that sometimes there are circumstances in my life that don’t concern you.”

  “So,” she said slowly, “you’re saying this is really about you, not me?” Whatever it was.

  “Maybe it’s about both of us.”

  “You’re not making much sense, Eliot. You told me you’re on your own time for this mission. This is supposed to be the time for us to see if this”—she motioned between them—“has the potential to work.”

  “It is.” Closing his eyes, he lifted his head to the night sky. “In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to keep leaving.”

  Marta’s breathing slowed. “You’re not leaving the mission so soon, are you?”

  “I hope not.” He met her gaze. “As of now, I have no plans to leave. I’m talking more in terms of my life outside of this mission. Sorry. I have a lot on my mind tonight.”

  “Let me take a wild guess,” she said. “Things could change in a heartbeat, though, if you get a call. There’s always the possibility that you might have to pull out of the mission and take off again. For who knows who long. Am I right?” Her heart sank when he nodded.

  In that moment, a vision popped into her mind. She’d been eight, standing in the front hallway of her childhood home in Kentucky, begging her daddy not to leave on another trip. It was almost as though she somehow knew, in the deepest part of her, that it was the last time she’d ever say good-bye to him. The last time she’d ever see him.

  Her father had once promised her that he’d always return. But that night, he’d kissed her mother, picked up his suitcase, and then walked out the front door of their two-story, three-car garage in suburban Louisville. Never to be seen or heard from again. He’d disappeared like the mist in the night air. And taken a large part of her heart with him.

  Why did men always leave?

  Liam left after they’d been together for years. He’d been the one who’d emotionally abandoned the relationship. And in every other way.

  Eliot couldn’t even stay for an entire TeamWork banquet.

  Eliot’s likely to do it again.

  Maybe it wasn’t fair to think that way, but that truth would always be there as long as he continued in his line of work. Whether or not it was his choice, he’d need to leave.

  “But you promised,” she breathed. Whether she was talking about her father or Eliot, or both, she couldn’t be sure.

  Raising both fists into the air, Eliot groaned, the kind of guttural, anguished cry that sounded as if it came from the deepest part of his soul. “Marta, you can’t know how hard it is, how much it pains me, not to be able to share things w
ith you.”

  “I can tell, Eliot, even if I don’t completely understand. I was just remembering something about the night my dad left. He promised to always come home to us. Until that one night he didn’t. And he never came back.” Marta lifted her gaze to his. “That’s all it takes. One time.”

  “I’m surprised I didn’t know that about your dad.”

  “I don’t tell many people.” She shifted and avoided his gaze. “And I only tell my closest friends, those whom I trust implicitly.”

  He squeezed her hand and then released it. “I’m honored. You have no idea what happened to him?”

  “No. My mom told us he died, but she’s never shown us any conclusive evidence. No death certificate, no newspaper article telling of an accident, no death notice. Nothing. We used to beg Mom to tell us if he’d died, but then she’d run crying from the room. She’s always refused to talk about him. My brothers and I finally stopped asking and we accepted that he was gone.”

  She shrugged and ran a hand through her curls. “We figured if he hadn’t really died, he obviously didn’t want us around. In a way, that was another kind of death. The death of our hope that he might return one day. In a way, it’s like cancer. Before the diagnosis, you don’t know what’s wrong, but you have hope that everything will be all right or you wallow in self-pity and expect the worst. In my mind, the not knowing is the worst.”

  “I’m very sorry about your father, but not all men leave, Marta.” Eliot leaned his forehead on hers. His skin was warm, and she felt the rise and fall of his uneven breathing. “All those things I said last night? All true, and I’ve never said them to another woman. Know this now: if anything ever happens to me, it’s not because I don’t want to be with you. I’ll always want to be with you.”

  “I know.” She did know. “Tell me something. Does your family know what you do for a living?”

  “They know enough. They know it’s dangerous and I have to be the one to contact them.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s as much for their protection as it is for mine.”

  She gulped. “Would I be in danger if…?” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  Eliot wrapped her in his arms. “I’d do everything in my power to make sure nothing would happen.”

  Marta slowly withdrew from his embrace. “But that’s not something you can promise, is it?” When he didn’t answer, she lifted from the bench with a heaviness weighing down her heart. “I can’t ask you to change your life for me, and I can tell that you love what you do.”

  “I do, but there comes a time to reassess priorities and weigh the options. It’s not something I’ll be doing in 15 years, but I don’t want to lose you in the process.”

  “Then I suppose it’s time for me to ask the ‘Where do you see yourself in 15 years?’ question?” She watched him carefully, waiting.

  “I’d love to have a wife and family, a home in the suburbs. The American dream.”

  “What kind of job?”

  “I have some ideas for creating an agency that helps others after they’ve suffered through a traumatic event.”

  She sat beside him again. “That sounds intriguing. Are you talking about a manmade event, or a natural disaster type of thing?”

  “More manmade, but I’ve just started thinking about it recently.”

  “You’d be using your expertise and experience to help others cope with the aftermath?” She smiled. “Again, that sounds pretty psychological to me. Maybe you should go to school to be a shrink.”

  “I’ll be too old by then, but this agency idea is a growing field and one where I could help make a difference in the lives of victims. My experience can play into it and be an advantage.”

  “In a way, it’s a sad commentary that things happen that make such an agency a reality.” She looked over at him. “So many people ask why God allows certain things to happen, but I think the question should be why do people do such horrible things to each other? In some cases, it’s the ones who are supposed to love us the most who inflict the most damage.”

  Eliot didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Unfortunately, you’re right. Why do people bomb churches or gun down pastors in the pulpit in cold blood? There’s always going to be opposition to what’s right, and good, and just. In my mind, it boils down to ignorance.”

  “And the only answer is the saving power of Christ.” When Eliot met her gaze, he nodded.

  “You won’t plan on eventually returning to your homeland, wherever that is?”

  Eliot’s eyes softened. “I love it here in the States, and my family has the means to travel at a moment’s notice.” That statement was telling, but Marta didn’t feel as though she could ask further questions. Not tonight. Maybe as they shared more, he’d open up about his family. The only thing he’d revealed to her in the past was that he was an only child. At least she had that much.

  “For the record, I don’t want to wait 15 years to have a baby.” With that said, she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

  “How many kids would you like to have?”

  “A whole boatload when the time is right.”

  “Any idea how many your boatload would hold?”

  She smiled a little at his question. “At least two or three, if not more. So, where does that leave us? What do we do now? I have to tell you, I’m pretty confused.”

  “We take it one step at a time. Look,” he said, “we’ll drive ourselves and each other crazy if we try to answer all of the questions. That’s God’s job, not ours.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. You might need to keep reminding me, though.”

  “Same here. For now, I’d love the honor of walking you back to the dorm before I have to report back to the worksite.” His use of the words report back might be telling. Or maybe she was analyzing everything way too much and trying to read meaning into what simply wasn’t there.

  When Eliot glanced up at her, sadness radiated in his eyes and in the slump of his broad shoulders. Rising to his feet, he offered his hand.

  Marta put her hand in his. She hated how dejected he looked, but she didn’t know what else to say. Could she give him assurances that she’d wait indefinitely for him? Would she wait?

  She needed to pray. Trust. Believe.

  “With God’s help, we’ll figure this out, Marta.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I know.”

  Chapter 15

  ~~♥~~

  In his bunk, Dean leaned against the wall shortly after ten o’clock. He’d helped paint another Sunday school room after the prayer circle and now his neck was sore. After rotating his shoulders a few times, he flipped open his laptop, positioning it on his briefcase. It served as a decent makeshift desk. He should check e-mails, but he had something else uppermost in his mind tonight.

  “Doing a little work, too?” From a few bunks down, Landon stretched out to his full length and crossed his arms behind his head. Landon had just closed his own laptop.

  “Not this time. I wanted to do a little research before I go to bed.”

  Turning on his side, Landon eyed him. “I’m surprised we get such great Internet reception out here. Sam told me the former owner of the camp insisted on it so he could carry on his business when he was on-site. If it’s not too personal, does this research you’re doing have something to do with a lovely lady named Sheila?”

  Dean gave into a grin as he fired up his laptop. “No comment. Journalists are used to hearing that, right?”

  “Reporters, yes. I wasn’t nicknamed ‘Coop the Scoop’ on the A&M newspaper staff for nothing. Sorry if I invaded your privacy.”

  “Not a problem, Landon. I’ll invade yours. Everything okay with you and Amy?”

  The other man grinned. “Couldn’t be better, thanks. It’s great to see her working with the kids, and then sitting with her at the prayer circle and stealing time together when we can. In some ways, it’s like falling in love with my wife all over again. That can only be a good thing.”
<
br />   “You’re an inspiration.” Dean chuckled. “Eliot’s right, though. You’re all a bunch of saps.”

  That made Landon laugh. “I’m sure you’ll find out one of these days.”

  “I dated a woman for a few years, but we were both more focused on our careers than a relationship. Well, that and the fact that Cynthia set her sights on the CEO of a pharmaceutical firm without bothering to tell me.” Why he’d voiced that comment, Dean didn’t know, but Landon was easy to talk to and he enjoyed his company.

  “I’m sure you realize that if it was the right situation, it would have worked out.” With another yawn, Landon slid under the covers. “All this physical labor shows me I’m getting older by the minute, but it’s good for the soul. I’m pretty beat. Where’d you work today?”

  “Painted the elementary school classroom this morning. I worked in another classroom tonight. I have the feeling I’ll be dreaming in sunny yellow tonight.”

  Landon laughed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Don’t stay up too late. I hope it works out for you this time, Dean. Good night.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Rolling over onto his back, Landon closed his eyes. The guy had seen straight through him. Was he that obvious around Sheila? Even if he was, did he care? Dean could answer his own questions with a resounding no.

  Repositioning the laptop, Dean searched for stuttering and skimmed over the list of websites that popped up on the computer screen. Quickly scanning the lengthy list, he chose one and began to read how stuttering has been a subject of scientific interest, curiosity, discrimination, and ridicule. Moses stuttered, and a burning coal in his mouth had caused him to be “slow and hesitant of speech.”

  Seeing a biblical reference, Dean reached for his Bible and flipped to Exodus 4:10-13. Then Moses said to the Lord, “Please, Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither recently nor in time past, nor since you have spoken to your servant; for I am slow of speech and slow of tongue.” The Lord said to him, “Who has made man’s mouth? Or who makes him mute or deaf, or seeing or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now then go, and I, even I, will be with your mouth, and teach you what you are to say. But he said, “Please, Lord, now send the message by whomever you will.”