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

by JoAnn Durgin

  She was only human after all.

  ~~♥~~

  “Let the circus begin,” Eliot said under his breath, sitting back in his seat and resting his chin on one hand. He listened as Pastor Chevy introduced himself, Donald Morrison, One Nation attorney Martin Long, and then Sam and Josh.

  “I wonder why they didn’t introduce you,” Marta whispered.

  “I’m a peripheral player, so there’s no reason. I also specifically asked Sam to make sure I wasn’t introduced.”

  “Why not?” Marta shifted in her seat. “Oh. Would that blow your cover?”

  “No comment.” Was she being sarcastic or teasing him again? Hard to tell from her tone of voice, but she’d been rather prickly on the way downtown. He’d never known Marta to be moody, but he could tell something was weighing on her mind. Maybe he could draw it out of her on the way back to the camp. He only hoped this proceeding didn’t last for hours. Being a Friday afternoon, surely these people would want to wrap it up sooner than later and get their weekend started.

  A haggard looking older man sat at the head table. “All right, ladies and gentleman.” With a small wooden gavel, the man lightly tapped the table a couple of times. “Let’s begin, shall we? Welcome and thanks to all of you for joining us today. For those visiting with us tonight, I’m Clarkson Traylor, President of the City Council. The Council is the legislative authority of the city. It is our responsibility to adopt all ordinances, resolutions, or other legislation conducive to the welfare of the people of the city. The Council is made up of nine members, elected on staggered terms, with four or five districted Councilors elected every two years.”

  Mr. Clarkson proceeded to introduce the other members of the City Council, as well as the three members from the Commission on Indian Affairs, including Stephanie Colton, the woman Eliot knew had talked with Sam and Marc out at the worksite.

  “The purpose of this meeting is to discuss complaints that have been lodged against a building project at a site located on the east side of the Sandia Mountains. To give you a brief history, application was made by the members of a Native American group called….”

  Pastor Chevy rose to his feet. “The One Nation under God Church, Mr. Traylor.”

  “Yes. Thank you.” The man’s dark eyes beneath his glasses encompassed the assembly, numbering about fifty according to Eliot’s quick headcount. Mr. Traylor went on to report that all of the necessary licenses and permits had been duly, timely, and appropriately filed and approved on behalf of the One Nation Church.

  “In answer to your question, it’s imperative that I keep a low profile,” Eliot said in low tones, leaning close to Marta. “Not bring attention to myself.” Her hair smelled so good he wanted to bury his nose in it. That was a first. He was going soft, but for once, he didn’t care. Being this close to Marta and not kissing her was growing increasingly difficult. Awareness of her shot through him. They were both dressed in the best clothes they’d brought to the mission camp, making him wish they sat across a dinner table with fresh flowers and candlelight.

  “Imperative? You’re not exactly the kind of guy who can blend into the background.”

  Eliot chuckled. “Glad you think so. And you’re not exactly a ‘blend in’ type of woman either.”

  “Ms. Colton,” Mr. Traylor said next. “If you’d be so kind, please read for the record the ordinances regarding the Commission on Indian Affairs for the benefit of those in attendance tonight.”

  “Neither is she, from all appearances,” Marta said. “Her skirt’s too short.”

  Coming from Marta, that comment surprised Eliot. “You think so?” He leaned slightly forward in an attempt to regain her eye contact. Acting stubborn, she resisted giving him the satisfaction.

  Stephanie Colton rose to her feet—at least five foot eleven in her high-heeled shoes—and began to state her case. “In order to promote the health, safety and general welfare of its citizenry through the creation of a Commission on Indian Affairs to serve as an advocate of Indian affairs to investigate, study and consider…”

  Eliot tuned out the woman’s slightly nasal, irritating monotone. Sparring with the woman beside him would make this hearing a whole lot more bearable.

  Marta shifted in her chair again. “It’s not jealousy, if that’s what you’re thinking. Women like that always drive me crazy.”

  This should be fun. Sure sounded like jealousy. “Should I ask why?”

  Stephanie Colton droned on. “…the subject of Indian conditions within the City of Albuquerque, including, but not limited to, matters of employment, education, economy, health, environment, government and access to services in the City.”

  “She’s uncommonly tall,” he observed. “It’s probably difficult to find skirts that are long enough for her—”

  “Spare me, Eliot. Her physical attributes are clearly on display for all to see.”

  “So are yours at times. You wear shorts at the worksite. And in the camp. And sleep in them, too, judging from our middle of the night adventure.”

  Marta’s eyes widened and her lovely mouth gaped. “What do you expect me to do? Roll myself in bubble wrap to keep you from staring at me?”

  “No,” he said, trying not to laugh. “For one thing, no matter how much bubble wrap you’d use, it’d still be see-through. Don’t be ashamed. You have great legs.”

  “I am not ashamed. I hope you don’t think I purposely—”

  “Ah, and now we’re back to the slinky lavender gown.”

  Based on Marta’s quiet laughter, he was relieved she apparently found this crazy exchange amusing. Flirtation. Whatever it was between them, it was pretty great. Energized him. Settling into his seat, Eliot tried to concentrate on the proceedings, but Marta was way too distracting.

  He moved his gaze slowly around the perimeter of the room. A few townspeople sat to one side, but no one stood out as appearing unfriendly, hostile, or in any way threatening. If any of the members of the Extant group were in attendance, they were keeping a low profile. That didn’t surprise him. They weren’t exactly the type of group to wear matching T-shirts with the name of their group emblazoned across their chests. That was more TeamWork’s style.

  Apparently satisfied that all the formalities had been dispensed, Mr. Traylor asked Stephanie to present her next point. Then Stephanie began a discussion of labor and employment practices.

  Marta leaned closer to Eliot. “Let me get this straight. Is she claiming the Native Americans weren’t given equal opportunity for employment at the worksite?”

  “Pretty much. But they shot it down.”

  Pastor Chevy rose at that point and addressed the room. “I can assure you that every attempt was made to hire Native American Indians for the available paid jobs at the building worksite. At the time, the particular requirements for the positions were specific in terms of operating the heavy equipment in order to bulldoze and level the land, and quite frankly, no Native Americans applying for the positions possessed the necessary training, skills, or proper licensing for the project. If needed, I can produce evidence of our efforts to advertise and interview for the positions. That’s when we hired Donald Morrison”—Pastor Chevy nodded to the foreman—“and he brought in his crew to complete the job that we’d already started.”

  Mr. Traylor glanced at Stephanie and the other members of the Commission. They all shook their heads. Seemingly satisfied that providing evidence would not be necessary, he told Pastor Chevy as much, thanked him, and then asked him to take his seat.

  Beside him, Marta stifled a yawn. Eliot blinked hard a few times himself. Pulling out a small pad of paper, she initiated a game of Hangman. He won twice and she won once.

  Another discussion ensued regarding the proposed landscaping around the church structure and possible violations of land use by tearing down an existing line of trees on the southeastern corner of the property.

  Marta passed a note to him. Are you are bored as I am?

  Chuckling, Eliot crossed
out her words and wrote More.

  She nodded and mouthed We are such big kids.

  He mouthed back You love it.

  Once again, Pastor Chevy rose and introduced a man sitting next to him as the landscape engineer hired to assess the situation prior to the groundbreaking for the church. The engineer quoted from a City ordinance before pointing to his schematic of the property, highlighting the line of trees and telling them the line was outside the lines of protected property for demolition purposes.

  Marta sat up straighter. “Oh goody. Exhibits.”

  Eliot loved Marta’s sense of humor and use of sarcasm. His right arm brushed against hers as he sat forward, elbows on his thighs. Neither one of them moved. When he chanced a quick peek, Marta turned her head at that precise moment. Their gazes locked and held.

  “What?” she whispered.

  He swallowed, wishing he could speak his mind. For once in his life, he couldn’t. The time and the place didn’t lend itself. “Hold on and brace yourself, Marta.” He forced a grin. “They haven’t even broached the Port-O-Let shortage issue yet.”

  Brilliant, Marchand. Way to impress a woman, talking about portable bathrooms.

  “Whaaat?” When Marta laughed and then clamped a hand over her mouth, her response earned them chastising glances from several of the Council members.

  “Although they didn’t come forward, I feel sure a few of the men in the back are members of the Extant group,” Eliot told Sam and Josh when the meeting concluded a good forty minutes later with a slap on the wrist for a few minor violations having nothing to do with hiring practices or a line of trees torn down. Two more Port-O-Lets would be brought out to the worksite by Monday.

  “Sam?”

  “Ms. Colton.” Sam nodded to her as the woman approached.

  “I’m thankful everything worked out in a manner satisfactory to all the parties involved. TeamWonder is free to continue your work at the worksite.”

  “That’s TeamWork,” Josh said.

  Eliot quirked a brow when Stephanie smiled at Sam as if they shared a private joke of some kind. “Of course it is,” she said. “I’ll check in on Monday to make sure the Port-O-Lets have been delivered.”

  “The first worship service will be held at the church this Sunday,” Sam told her. “You’re welcome to come and join in the celebration. And now, if you’ll excuse me.” Walking toward Lexa as she emerged from the ladies room with Marta, Sam slipped his arm around his petite wife’s waist.

  And that’s the way it’s done. Sam’s response to the attractive woman’s flirtation by inviting her to the church service was classic. No wonder Sam wrote marriage books. Stephanie Colton had taken the hint and moved farther down the corridor to speak with some of the City Council members.

  Marta walked over to him. “Was she conceding victory?”

  “For everything but the Port-O-Lets.” Eliot told her about Sam’s invitation to join them at the church service.

  Marta smiled. “Papa Bear strikes again.”

  “From the research I did before coming to the meeting, Extant’s game is intimidation aimed at minorities,” Eliot told them in the parking lot.

  “What’s their issue? Your best theory,” Sam said.

  Eliot knew Sam didn’t expect him to have all the answers, but he depended on him to lend him the benefit of his experience. “Seems no minority is beyond their focus. The members come from all walks of life and professions, mostly Caucasian, primarily male, and with an average age range from 25 to 55.”

  Eliot stuffed his hands into the pockets of his khakis and glanced around the area. Most everyone seemed to have cleared the area. There had been a group of five men who’d sat at the back of the room. As soon as Clarkson Traylor’s gavel sounded, they’d risen from their seats and quickly departed.

  “White Supremacists?” Josh said. “Please Lord, no.”

  “Not quite as extreme,” Eliot said, “but from what I’ve read, some of their known actions have been prompted by racism. I’d look at this group as the poor man’s version of the KKK or other white supremacy groups. Extant isn’t as highly organized. They have fewer members and less violent tendencies. What we need to keep in mind is that the bigger white supremacist groups normally form smaller factions in order to carry out their dirty deeds. The members seek out likeminded people. Meaning this Extant group could be large and a few of their members have targeted TeamWork and the One Nation Church to harass. Unfortunately, there’s no way of knowing how dangerous they could be or how far they’re willing to carry out any threats. Bottom line, we should take their presence seriously, press on with our work, and be aware they can do some damage.”

  “Do you think they might try to damage the church building? Where does it stop?” Sam ran a hand over his brow. “I guess my question would be how we can try and reach these people where they live, so to speak?”

  “We need to always be on alert,” Eliot said. “I’ve told our crew—both the guys and the ladies—to report anything suspicious while we’re here in New Mexico. I’m glad we’ve hired the security service to watch over our vehicles and Landon’s plane. Otherwise, I’d advise you to do what you always do.”

  “Right.” Sam nodded. “Then I’d say we need to keep praying.”

  Eliot’s gaze met Sam’s. “Sounds good. That’s what we’ll do.”

  Chapter 28

  ~~♥~~

  After returning to the camp, Sam changed back into his jeans and T-shirt. With a quick kiss, Lexa hurried off to the dining hall. Hearing animated voices from the softball field to one side of the camp, Sam headed in that direction. His eyes widened as he turned a corner of the camp.

  “Mom? Dad?”

  Sure enough, Sarah Lewis was up at bat and swung at the ball, proving once again why she’d been a four-year scholarship softball player at the University of Texas in Austin, the alma mater for Sam and both of his younger brothers, Will and Carson. Will had been offered a scholarship at MIT, among other prestigious engineering schools, but he’d preferred to remain in Texas before joining the Air Force.

  The ball connected and soared high into the air, sending several players scrambling for it. Instead of having one of the kids run the bases for her, Sarah took off at a run.

  Moving his hands to his hips, Sam chuckled as his mother rounded the bases like a woman half her age. He moved his gaze to his father. The look on Sam Sr.’s face as he watched his wife spoke volumes. Spying him, his father motioned for Sam to join him.

  Sprinting over to him, Sam gave his dad a hug. “Hey there. What a nice surprise. You had to come all the way to Albuquerque to show off Mom’s softball expertise?” He made sure to stand on the left side of his dad, his better ear with the hearing aid. His father had initially been stubborn and resistant to getting it, but Mom had finally convinced him a number of years ago.

  “You know it, son. We figured this was as good a place as any.”

  “How are you feeling these days? Any migraines lately? Dizziness?”

  “No. Same as always,” Sam Sr. said. Still limiting the salt and caffeine. As long as I get plenty of water and sleep, eat well, and limit the stress, I manage to keep it under control.”

  “Good,” Sam said. “I hope this altitude and climate won’t cause you any trouble.”

  “It might actually be better here in New Mexico. I have medication if I need it.” Sam Sr.’s gaze narrowed and he whistled as his wife after she rounded third base and headed toward home plate. “Would you look at her, son? I’ll never tire of watching your mother. Beauty and poetry in motion, isn’t she? Sarah’s as energetic as she was all those years ago on the UT softball field.”

  “Yes, she is.” Sam cheered along with the kids and his dad as his mother rounded home plate, stomping on it and raising her fisted hands in the air. When she reached them, Sam pulled her into his embrace and kissed her cheek. “Great to have you here, Mom. You’re looking as beautiful as ever.”

  “Thanks. I didn’t come to Albuq
uerque to show off, you know.” Putting one hand over her abdomen, Sarah seemed slightly out of breath. “Good to know I can still run a little. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I could do it. And don’t you dare use the word spry, either. That word’s reserved for old people.”

  Sam laughed. “I wouldn’t think of it. You’ll never be old. You’re radiant.”

  Sam Sr. kissed Sarah’s cheek. “Yes, she is. Awesome as ever, Tomboy.”

  “Thanks, Captain.” Sarah slipped her hand into her husband’s as Sam had seen his mother do many times through the years. Somehow, the poignant gesture resonated even more with him this time. Maybe it was seeing his dad’s hearing aid although a hearing aid was nothing compared to so many other things they could be facing. With some of the TeamWork members losing parents in recent years, it put things in perspective. Made him thankful they lived nearby in Houston and they saw one another often.

  “You looked great out there,” Sam told her. “I’m sure the kids would be glad to do the running for you, if you want.”

  “Never. I’m getting older, but I’ll keep running on my own speed as long as I can.” Cupping her son’s chin in one hand, Sarah gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re looking as handsome as ever, Sam. A little tired, but I know that’ll be the norm while you’re here.”

  Sam eyed his Mom. “Did you mention to Lexa that you were coming? She didn’t say a word.”

  “No, this was all our doing. Your dad and I thought a little road trip might be fun. Do a little sightseeing and maybe lend a helping hand where it’s needed at the church or here in the camp.”

  “Well, it’s great to see you. Welcome. Do you have a place to stay?”

  “Starting tomorrow,” his mother said. “We hoped you might have a place we could curl up for tonight. If not, we’ll head farther down the highway.”

  “You’re here, so don’t think for a second that I’ll send you looking for a hotel room. I can’t promise anything fancy, but you can have our quarters. Lexa and I will camp out with the kids tonight,” Sam said without hesitation. “They’ll love it. It’ll be another adventure.”