by Irene Hannon
With a deep, weary sigh she gave in, her shoulders suddenly sagging. “I guess you’re right,” she admitted, her voice flat and lifeless with fatigue as she brushed a hand tiredly across her eyes. “Mark said he’d give me a lift a little while ago. I just need to find him.”
“I’ll take you home, Rebecca.”
Her eyes flew to his in surprise. “You?”
“I was leaving, anyway. In a town this size, your place can’t be that far out of my way.”
Rebecca never took the risk of putting herself in a situation where she was alone with a man she barely knew. But Zach was a respected journalist. He was a friend of Mark’s. Ben liked him. So did Rose and Frances. Surely a simple ride home would be safe. Besides, she was just too tired to worry about it tonight. She felt strange—unsteady and shaky—and she knew that if she didn’t sit down soon, she was going to fall down.
Zach watched her face, prepared to argue the point if she protested. Under normal circumstances he knew she’d flatly refuse his offer of a ride. But in her state of near collapse he hoped that instead of trying to analyze his motives, she would simply accept them at face value. He cared about her and simply wanted her safe and warm and rested. It was as simple as that. He wasn’t sure himself why he cared so much about a woman he hardly knew. But he did.
He watched her face, trying to anticipate her response, but before he could come to any conclusions she surprised him by acquiescing.
“All right, Zach. Thank you,” she accepted wearily.
He felt a tension he hadn’t even realized was there ease in his shoulders, and silently he took her elbow and guided her toward his car. The fact that she didn’t protest this protective gesture told him more eloquently than words that she was about ready to drop. He could sense that every step was an effort for her, and when she stumbled a couple of times on the uneven ground he was tempted to just pick her up and carry her. But he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the lady definitely wouldn’t put up with that. A hand at her elbow was one thing. Holding her in his arms was another—even though the idea was suddenly immensely appealing, he realized. In fact, he’d like to do a whole lot more than that. But he quickly—and firmly—reined in his wayward thoughts. Now was not the time to indulge in romantic fantasies.
When they reached his car he pulled open the passenger door, but Rebecca hesitated, glancing down at her muddy, wet clothes and shoes. “Zach, I’ll m-mess your c-car up,” she protested, trying unsuccessfully to keep her teeth from chattering.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said shortly, dismissing her concern as he urged her gently into the car.
But she held back stubbornly, resisting his efforts. “Don’t you have a blanket or a towel in the trunk that I can sit on?”
He gave her an exasperated look. The last thing he cared about at the moment was soiled upholstery. After all his car had been through in the past ten days, a little dirt wasn’t going to hurt anything. But rather than argue the point, he left her standing by the door to quickly rummage through the trunk, emerging a moment later with a rug he kept handy for tire changes. Wordlessly he laid it over the passenger seat, and Rebecca finally slid into the car. Collapsed was actually a better word, Zach thought grimly, as he shut the door and strode around to the passenger side. She was all in.
She somehow summoned up the energy to direct him to her apartment, and within a few minutes they pulled up in front of her building.
“I appreciate the l-lift, Zach,” she said, her teeth still chattering as she reached for the handle.
“I’ll walk you to your door.”
She thought about protesting, but by the set of his jaw she knew it would be useless. Besides, she was too tired to argue anymore.
He took her elbow again for the short walk, and this time the protective gesture registered in her consciousness—and also tugged at her heart. Rebecca wasn’t sure why Zach continued to bother with her. He’d made no secret about wanting to date her, true, but she’d given him virtually no encouragement. Yet still he’d taken the time to see her home tonight, and she somehow sensed that for whatever reason, he cared about her well-being.
Her door was sheltered by a small porch, barely large enough to accommodate the two of them, and Rebecca was acutely aware of Zach’s presence just a breath behind her as she withdrew the key from the pocket of her coat. Her numb fingers fumbled as she attempted to insert it in the lock, and it slipped from her fingers, clattering to the concrete.
With a weary sigh, she started to bend down, but Zach restrained her with a preemptive hand on her shoulder, retrieving the key himself in one smooth swoop. Then he reached past her to insert it in the lock, his other hand still resting lightly on her shoulder. He was only a whisper away now, and Rebecca caught the scent of his distinctive aftershave as he leaned close. When his arm brushed her chest, a surge of yearning unexpectedly swept over her, and she drew in a sharp breath.
Zach turned to her immediately, his concerned eyes probing her face. “Are you all right?” he asked with a frown.
She nodded jerkily, not trusting her voice.
He looked at her appraisingly, noting that she’d wrapped her arms tightly around her body in a protective gesture that said, “Stay away.” But, surprisingly enough, her unguarded eyes said something entirely different. They reflected a combination of emotions—longing, fear, uncertainty, confusion, yearning. He doubted whether she realized just how eloquent they were. Rebecca definitely did not have a poker face. She wore her emotions too close to the surface, and her eyes were a window to her soul, communicating clearly what was in her heart.
Zach wanted to respond to the longing he saw, wanted to reach out and gather her into his arms, but he stifled the urge and drew in an unsteady breath. His self-control had never been taxed as much as it was around this woman, who brought out a protective instinct in him that he thought had died years ago. She was the kind of woman who should be cherished and loved and always treated gently, in keeping with her gentle nature.
Unfortunately, Zach didn’t have much experience dealing with women like that. Suddenly, desperately, he wished he did, wished he knew how to make Rebecca relax with him, to trust him, to give it a chance. He honestly didn’t know where a relationship with her might lead. The physical attraction was definitely there. And maybe that’s all there was. But he didn’t think so. His gut told him there could be a whole lot more, and he’d learned to trust his instincts. They ought to explore their attraction. But first he had to convince her of that.
However, now was not the time. She was cold, aching, tired and wet. What she needed was a dry, warm bed. And rest. And peace of mind. Which—unfortunately—was his cue to exit.
Rebecca was caught in the spell of Zach’s magnetic eyes as they held hers captive. He had wonderful eyes, she thought. Trustworthy. Caring. Insightful. Vibrant. Passionate. Very definitely passionate, she realized with a start. She might want rest. He clearly wanted something else—something she couldn’t give. Certainly not now. And maybe never. The simple fact was, Zach was a man of intense passions. Rebecca knew that as surely as she knew her reaction to passion. And the two were not a promising combination, she thought bleakly.
Zach saw the sudden melancholy steal into Rebecca’s eyes, and without stopping to consider the consequences he slowly reached over and laid his hand against her cheek, brushing his thumb gently over her soft, silky skin. He felt her quivering beneath his touch, but she didn’t pull away as he’d half expected. She just stared up at him with wide, vulnerable eyes.
Get out of here before you do something you’ll regret, an inner voice ordered. Now!
“Take a hot bath, okay?” he suggested.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“And get some rest.”
“I will.”
It would be so easy to just pull her close, to taste her lips, to demonstrate the depth of his attraction to her. It was what he wanted to do. Even with her hair in disarray and darkened by dampness, her cla
ssic features tinged with fatigue and wiped free of makeup, wearing mud-caked boots and an oversize parka, she did more for his libido than any woman he’d ever met. It didn’t make any sense. And if he was confused, she surely would be, too.
Zach didn’t usually waste time analyzing his reaction to a woman. He just listened to his hormones and went after what he wanted. But he knew instinctively that Rebecca wouldn’t respond to his usual direct approach. And he also recognized that tonight was not the time to explore their attraction. She was too tired and too vulnerable.
Regretfully, summoning up the last reserves of his self-control, he let his hand drop from her cheek and removed his other hand from her shoulder. “Good night, Rebecca.”
“G-good night. And thank you.”
He hesitated one more second, then, with a last lingering sweep of her face, he turned and strode away into the rain.
Rebecca rose on one arm to peer at the bedside clock, reading the digital display with a groan. One in the morning! She thumped her pillow and flopped onto her back, cringing as her aching muscles protested the abrupt movement. After the last couple of days of backbreaking work she needed rest desperately, but sleep was proving to be elusive tonight. Her sore muscles were just making it too difficult to get comfortable.
But so were thoughts of Zach, she admitted. Tonight she was sure he had been thinking about kissing her. But then, in her exhausted state, maybe she’d misread his eyes. It wasn’t as if she had a whole lot of experience to draw on. But there had definitely been…vibrations, she thought, for lack of a better word. Surely she wasn’t mistaken about that. Yet, in the end, he’d simply walked away.
Rebecca stared at the dark ceiling and tried to think logically. Despite his restraint earlier in the evening, she knew he was interested. He’d made no secret of the fact. He’d been angling for a date ever since their “official” meeting in the diner. She’d put him off, but he didn’t seem discouraged. Just more determined. Which made her nervous.
But what made her even more nervous was her interest in him.
Rebecca closed her eyes and drew a deep, quivering breath. She didn’t want to be interested in Zach. She didn’t want to feel nervous and unsettled every time she was in his presence. She didn’t want to wait anxiously every day to see if he’d stop in for lunch so she could at least catch a glimpse of him. But she was and she did. And that scared her. Because she knew that deep in her subconscious she was starting to consider going out with him.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to date him. She did. She found him attractive, was flattered by his attention, impressed by his apparent character and integrity. But she was so afraid of what would happen if he… A choked sob cut off her thought in mid-sentence. She didn’t have to wonder what would happen. She knew. Physical closeness freaked her out. Period. She’d embarrass both of them. He might even be angry. She didn’t know him well enough to be able to judge his reaction. But based on past experience with other men, it wouldn’t be pretty. No, dating Zach would be a mistake.
Besides, she consoled herself, he’d be leaving soon. This was just a temporary beat for him. He was a city man, used to lights and action and excitement. And he sure wouldn’t find those in St. Genevieve. She was better off sticking to her original decision.
But if that was true, then why didn’t she feel better off? she cried silently.
Zach typed in the final line of his story, then leaned back and wearily massaged his temple. It had been a long, cold, wet night, and it had taken him what seemed like hours to warm up after he dropped Rebecca off. But at least he had a good story to show for his discomfort, he thought in satisfaction. It uplifted. It reaffirmed. It found goodness even in the midst of chaos and tragedy. It was the kind of story Josef would like, he realized suddenly, a faint smile touching his lips as he thought of his friend.
Zach pulled out his wallet and flipped through the plastic holders, stopping at one that contained a photo taken at Isabel’s christening, nearly eight years before. Josef and Katrina had insisted that Zach be the godfather, though he’d protested that the honor should go to a relative. He still remembered Josef’s response to his reaction.
“Sometimes ties of the heart are the strongest of all, stronger even than blood, Zachary. You are my best friend, and you would honor us by becoming part of our family in this way.”
And so, of course Zach had agreed. He recalled clearly the day the picture was taken. It was right before Zach and Katrina went home, an unseasonably warm late-May afternoon even for St. Louis. They asked him to hold Isabel for the picture, and then stood on either side of him while the minister snapped the photo. Zach had no experience with babies and was almost afraid to grasp the tiny, fragile bit of life, with her flailing arms and kicking legs. But Josef laughingly assured him that Isabel wouldn’t break, and in fact she lay quietly in his arms as the picture was taken, staring up at him solemnly with big blue eyes.
Zach glanced at the facing picture, a slightly fuzzy shot taken when Isabel was six. Almost two years ago now. She had turned into a beautiful child, with her mother’s long brown hair and Josef’s inquiring eyes. Josef and Katrina had gone out of their way to treat Zach as one of the family, despite the distance that separated them, and Zach always remembered Isabel’s birthday with some sort of stuffed animal or toy. It would be nice to see them all again, he thought wistfully. He glanced down at the molded pewter ring on his finger that had been their parting gift to him, and recalled the inscription: Friends—Always. And they would be, he knew.
On impulse, Zach leaned forward and checked his E-mail. He hadn’t heard from Josef in over two weeks, and he was starting to worry. Though Josef never said it in so many words, Zach knew he was growing increasingly concerned about the deteriorating conditions in his country. He and Katrina rarely went out anymore with friends, and Isabel spent most of her time indoors for safety reasons. Josef’s powerful, persuasive writing was also attracting more and more attention from opposing factions, and Zach had begun urging him to use caution. But that word wasn’t in Josef’s vocabulary, not when he felt he was doing the right thing. Although Zach suspected that there was a very real danger for his friend, Josef downplayed it.
This time, when Zach opened his mailbox, he was rewarded with a note from his friend, and he eagerly scanned it. But it wasn’t the kind of message he had hoped for.
Things are not very good for us right now, Zachary. Katrina has had a miscarriage and is very ill. I wish we could be in St. Louis, with good Dr. Anderson, who took such fine care of her when Isabel was born. But that is not the Lord’s will, it seems. We must stay here and hope that He will watch over us.
I cannot write much now, my friend. It is not safe here at the newspaper office. We will be moving again soon. It seems that our talk of freedom is causing much distress to the powers that be. But still we persevere, for the torch must be carried.
I hope, Zachary, that all is well with you. I think often of our happy days at Mizzou. It was a good time, was it not? So much hope and enthusiasm and optimism. We were going to change the world, you and I. Remember? And we are, you know. It is just very slow work. But I carry on, firmly believing that this is what the Lord intends me to do.
I will write again when the opportunity arises, my friend. Now I must return to Katrina, who gives my life so much joy. I pray that she will quickly be well again. And I pray also that peace will soon return to our troubled country.
Zach rested his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingers, a frown creasing his brow as he scanned Joseph’s message a second time. He hadn’t even known about Katrina’s pregnancy. He assumed it had been by accident, not design. After her first difficult pregnancy and delivery, the doctors had warned her that attempts to have more children could be extremely dangerous. And Josef loved her too much to risk that.
Zach wished there was some way he could help his friend. Long ago he and Josef had promised each other that should either ever be in need, the other had only to ask and
help would be on the way. But Josef hadn’t made such a request. Probably because he knew there was nothing Zach could do. Except maybe pray.
But unlike Josef, who was a religious man, Zach’s once-solid faith had withered and died in the alleys and slums of St. Louis. Yet he took a moment now, in case there really was anyone listening upstairs, to ask for protection for his friend and his family. Because Zach was beginning to suspect that only a Higher Power would be able to keep them safe.
Chapter Four
Rebecca sighed and reached up to secure a wayward pin in her French twist. The last few days had been tough. She was putting in her usual long hours at the restaurant, then spending every spare minute sandbagging. The rain hadn’t abated, and despite the diligent efforts of the townspeople and the National Guard, it appeared that the flooding would be severe and widespread. Rebecca hadn’t been in town during the last flood, several years before, but stories of the horror survived. Families homeless, businesses ruined, hundreds of lives turned upside down. She paused for a moment and closed her eyes. Please, Lord, keep everyone safe, she prayed. And help us all realize that lives are more precious than things.
Rebecca opened her eyes and glanced at the clock, sighing once again. Ten at night was not an ideal time to be getting ready for tomorrow’s scheduled bridal shower in the restaurant. But the work had to be done, even if she was bone weary after sandbagging for three hours earlier in the evening. Thank heavens Zach had more or less dragged her off that sandbag line two nights ago! Even though her sleep had been restless that night, disrupted by both sore muscles and conflicting emotions about her “rescuer,” at least her body had gotten some much-needed rest. That had helped carry her though the next couple of days. But the reserve was starting to wear thin. Maybe if she worked quickly tonight, she’d get home before midnight, she thought hopefully.