Awakening: A Christian Romance Novel

by JoAnn Durgin

  “That’s doubtful.” Amy rejoined their group after finishing her serving duties, at least for the moment. “With all the work we do around here, you’re going to need the food for sustenance. Believe me, you’ll work it off, so my advice is to eat up.”

  Lexa shot her a grateful glance. Without a doubt, this bubbly girl had been a cheerleader. Her enthusiasm was infectious. At the worksite earlier in the afternoon, Amy kept the group in stitches with her anecdotes, from what little snippets Lexa’s overheard in-between Josh’s stories.

  “Coming to the bonfire tonight, Lexa?” Josh took a long, slow sip of his iced tea. Those green eyes were too good to be true. He needed to stop looking at her like that. And the winking thing even more so. Besides, he was too young for her. Still, he entertained her with humorous stories, and she liked being around Josh and his sister. Both were so nice and made her feel welcome in the TeamWork camp. Everyone had, as a matter of fact.

  “I don’t know,” Lexa began, shooting Rebekah a question with her eyes. For the first time, Lexa noticed Josh’s twin’s eyes were every bit as deep green with little flecks of amber dancing around in those orbs. “I didn’t know we were having a bonfire.” What in the world would they do there? For starters, Lexa imagined they’d sing and pray.

  “We have one every night,” Josh told her. “You’ll love it. It’s a chance to kick back, relax, sing, share a testimony, get to know each other better, and grow closer to the Lord.”

  It sounded pretty good until the last part about growing closer to the Lord. What had she gotten herself into here? What in the world was a testimony? Suddenly, the truth washed over her—she was a phony. An imposter. She didn’t know anything about being a Christian, and here she was with this wonderful group of people who accepted her without question and believed she belonged to their group.

  Lexa stood on the outside looking in. Sam Lewis already had her number, and it wouldn’t take long for the rest of his volunteers to surmise the same. Lexa silently absorbed the lively banter around her, aware that Rebekah eyed her with a curious expression.

  As she left the dining tent a short time later, Lexa stared at the ground and kicked up dust with her boots as she shuffled along. She made a conscious effort to pick them up and not stumble. Even though they were important for the work she was there to do, she felt ridiculous wearing them. It was called forsaking vanity for practicality.

  “Coming to the bonfire tonight, Miss Clarke?”

  She tried to control the wild fluttering inside. Just keep walking, Lexa.

  CHAPTER 6

  Lexa stumbled for a split second before catching herself. All she needed was to fall on her face, in the dirt at the TeamWork director’s boot-covered feet. That would pretty much complete her humiliation. For whatever reason, Sam liked seeking her out. While flattering, it was unnerving. That blue-eyed gaze traveled down to her feet, and the already familiar grin surfaced.

  “I’m not sure. I’m kind of tired.” It was only a half-truth, but Lexa didn’t know what might be expected. If she had to say anything—or was expected to share her feelings with the others—she preferred the option of being able to slip away unnoticed. So, it was better not to go. End of story. She’d pretend to be exhausted at the end of a long first day and then go to bed early. She didn’t know what her excuse would be after tonight, but she was creative and would come up with something.

  Lexa looked around at the barren landscape of the camp. “There’s not much to look at, is there?” She avoided looking at Sam, but it was tempting. That question sounded leading, and she shouldn’t have asked it.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” She heard the smile in his voice. “And whenever you have an answer to the home in your heart question, I’m waiting to hear it.”

  Here we go again. “You’re like an elephant and never forget anything, do you?”

  “I try not to.” Sam laughed. “There’s always something that helps me remember. Take you, for instance.”

  Her brows shot up. “Me? What do you mean?”

  “Braid. Numbers. People. Something about you that’s different, what you’re about, and what you’re afraid of.”

  “That’s pretty simplistic. And I didn’t say I’m afraid of people. I only said numbers are easier and safer . . . than people,” Lexa stammered. “Numbers are finite, although they can certainly change. But I can always depend on them.”

  “Ah-ha. Bingo!” His tone sounded triumphant.

  Her curiosity got the best of her. “Okay, Mr. Freud. What does that say about me?”

  “Numbers don’t disappoint the way people can.” Compassion resonated in that deep, masculine voice.

  Lexa shrugged. “Disappointment’s a big part of life. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

  “You don’t always have to be so defensive, Lexa. You’re among friends here.” His eyes met hers, holding them steady.

  Her breathing grew shallow. He had her pegged. Biting her lower lip, Lexa resolved not to reveal her vulnerability to this man. Sam was unusually perceptive, not to mention intuitive. Had he tipped Rebekah and Josh off about her, asked them to befriend her? Were they only acting like her friends as a favor to him? She didn’t want to think things like that, but her mind was clouded, confused. Struggling for an answer, she gave him a helpless shrug.

  “From what I’ve seen so far, you’re getting to know the volunteers and fitting in. Feel free to join us at the bonfire tonight. I think you’d have a good time.” Sam turned to go.

  “Sam?” Lexa hated the slight tremor in her voice. It betrayed her every time.

  “Yes?” Those baby blues looked kind, drawing her in.

  “Thanks.” It sounded inadequate, but she wanted him to know she appreciated his efforts to make her feel comfortable in the camp.

  “For what?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

  “Thanks for taking an interest and making me feel welcome.” A question came to her mind. What did she have to lose? “Sam?”

  “Yes?” A grin of amusement upturned his lips.

  “Tell me something. Do you personally pick up all the camp volunteers at the bus station when they arrive for duty?” Goodness, she made it sound like boot camp. She might as well embroider Private Clarke on her blouse, salute the leader and march back to her barracks.

  He pulled the Stetson low on his head and ran anchoring fingers around its rim. “Nah. Only the spicy girls. It’s inherent in my position as director.” The smile lines deepened, and the faint lines around his eyes crinkled as Sam gave her a respectful tip of the hat and pivoted on his boot.

  Such a cowboy, this man. Half the women in the TeamWork camp must secretly be in love with the director. Lexa swallowed hard, grateful Sam missed the open-mouthed stare he left behind.

  ~~**~~

  Removing his glasses, Sam shook his head and ran a quick hand through his hair. It was muggier than usual. Even his hand was damp when he picked up a pencil. Frowning, he reached for the roll of paper towels he kept near the desk and wiped his hands. Through blind eyes, he stared at the file folder in the middle of his desk. With one finger, he lifted the edge of the folder and opened it. Alexis Clarke’s folder.

  Rubbing one hand over tired eyes and sitting back in his chair, Sam thought about the woman who captured his immediate attention. She appeared insecure and timid one minute and then turned all spicy and defensive the next. He was curious and more than a little surprised by his own instinctive reaction to her. Maybe he should take some time to examine why that was. But not right now.

  A knock on the office door startled him. “Come on in,” he called, closing Lexa’s folder. “Hi, Beck. What’s up?” Motioning for her to have a seat in one of the chairs opposite his desk, he watched as she closed the screen door and sat down.

  “I’m curious about Lexa.”

  “Join the club.”

  “She’s obviously not the usual TeamWork volunteer.”

  “You can say that again. I was just starting to look
at her file now. I haven’t really had a chance to look at her application.”

  “Oh, I’ll leave you alone then.” Rebekah started out of the chair.

  “No, it’s all right. Stay.” He motioned for her to take her seat again. “The bonfire’s over an hour from now, so I’ve got plenty of time. Besides, you know I always have time for you.” Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms behind his head. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Lexa seems somewhat uncomfortable, and I get the feeling she’s not . . .”

  “Not a Christian?”

  Rebekah’s green eyes grew wide and Sam heard her quick intake of breath. “I’d never say that, Sam. You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “I know what you mean. This work camp is totally outside Lexa’s realm of normal. But no matter why she’s here, the Lord’s put her here for a reason.” Seeing Rebekah’s eyes cross, he laughed. “I know, sometimes I sound ridiculously pious. But it’s true, all the same.”

  “Maybe you should have pursued full-time church ministry. If you ask me, you’re well-suited to it.”

  His smile sobered. “This is my ministry for now. You know how much I love my TeamWork camps. And Lexa told me she researched TeamWork and wants to help us make a difference. But, in spite of me griping at her when I was changing a flat tire, and being spit on by a goat,” Sam said, pausing as Rebekah laughed, “she didn’t tell me to turn the car around and take her back to the bus station. The woman’s got spunk and determination.” Among other things.

  “Are you serious? A goat really spit on her?” Rebekah laughed and shook her head in disbelief. “That must have been pretty gross.”

  Sam laughed. “It was, but she handled it with uncommon grace.”

  Rebekah tilted her head, surveying him. “You like her.”

  Sam sat up straighter in the chair and clasped his hands together on the desk. “I like all my volunteers.” He avoided her eyes. She knew him too well.

  “This is different. Even though you’re trying not to look at me, I saw it. You’ve got that same look in your eye when you talk about Lexa that you did when you talked about Shelby.”

  Sam grunted. “That’s neither here nor there. Besides, I just met the woman.” He hoped she’d drop it.

  Rebekah was quiet for a long moment. “It’s been three years. You need to let Shelby go.”

  “I let her go a long time ago.”

  “Look at me, Sam.”

  Sam moved his eyes upward to meet Rebekah’s, but it took awhile. Patience was one of Beck’s best virtues. He knew she’d wait, and she didn’t disappoint.

  “Shelby was one of my best friends. We both loved her. But she’s gone.” She paused. “You’re thirty-one. It’s time to start living again. You need a companion.”

  “I don’t know . . .” Sam shook his head. There was so much about Shelby that Rebekah never knew, never suspected, but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her. Maybe she was right. One of these days, maybe he’d slow down and focus on trying to find another woman. But, at this point, that was a mighty big maybe. Just because Lexa Clarke intrigued him didn’t mean she was the right one.

  “I seem to be doing fine all on my own. I don’t need a woman complicating my life.”

  She wasn’t buying his protests for a second. Rebekah’s gaze softened as he met her eyes again. “You know Josh and I look at you like an older brother, Sam. You’re also smart enough to know the right woman won’t complicate anything.” She leaned across the desk, making sure she had his eye contact. “The right woman will only enhance your life and ministry. You’re too good a man not to find love and share your life with someone. Besides,” she added with a coy grin, “it’s about time you finally started raising little TeamWork volunteers of your own.”

  Sam shook his head. “No offense, Beck, but I have a mother. She does a fine job of reminding me of that constantly, all on her own.” Not to mention his three sisters had jumped on the old let’s-get-Sam-married bandwagon. It was getting rather annoying.

  “All I’m saying is, I hope you’ll at least open your eyes to the possibility of allowing yourself to love another woman.” Rebekah hesitated. “I like Lexa. She might be different from most of the women here, but she’s smart, and has a sharp wit. And she’s here for the right reasons. In other words,” she said, standing once more, “she’s got an awful lot of potential. It just needs to be tapped. Do you want me to take her under my wing, show her the ropes around the camp?”

  Sam looked up with a grateful smile. “That would be great. From what I’ve seen, you’ve done a terrific job of that so far.” He shook his head. “I have the feeling I might have to keep an eye on Lexa out at the worksite. She’s pretty independent, so I’ll have to try and not be obvious about the fact that I’m watching her.”

  Rebekah saluted with a small grin. “Pretty being the key word there, my friend. From what I’ve seen, you’re already doing a good job of keeping your eye on her.”

  Sam ignored her knowing glance, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. Admitting an attraction for one of his newest volunteers, even to one of his dearest friends and confidantes, wasn’t exactly the wisest move. As the work camp director, his behavior needed to be above reproach at all times. He had a job to do, and TeamWork depended on him to get it done.

  “I’ll leave you to your reading. Enjoy.”

  “Thanks, Beck.”

  Her smile always brightened his day.

  “You’re welcome. Anything to help. That’s what TeamWork’s all about, right?”

  How right she was. Sam’s thoughts drifted to earlier in the day. He’d been as obvious as an adolescent boy with a crush on the new girl in school when Beck showed Lexa around the women’s dorm. He might as well offer to carry her books and ask her to the Friday night dance.

  He was happy when Lexa joined his group at the worksite. If nothing else, he was grateful for the chance to keep a close eye on her. Something in the stubborn demeanor, the defiance in those lovely eyes, alerted him. He needed to make sure she didn’t get into too much trouble. Unsupervised, that seemed like a distinct possibility.

  In the dim light of his small, cramped office, Sam opened her file folder. Retrieving his glasses, he glossed over the parts about Lexa’s family background, but read enough to know she was an only child. Her mother died from cancer when she was a young girl, and her father within the last few years. The interviewer indicated Lexa was more or less an orphan except for a few scattered cousins.

  Sam couldn’t begin to imagine what his life would be like without the love and support his large family offered. Their hearts and arms were always wide open, ready to embrace any one of them. As the eldest child and namesake of the Lewis clan, he accepted the responsibility to model Christ-like behavior to his siblings and now to his TeamWork volunteers. He didn’t look upon it as a burden, but as a high privilege and honor. Still, it was a lot to live up to, and he hoped never to disappoint any of them.

  Stopping to read Lexa’s answers on the application about her personal testimony, Sam rubbed a hand over his brow. Straining forward to decipher the TeamWork interviewer’s handwritten notes in the margin, he read that she asked the Lord into her heart when she was a child of eight. The same age she’d been when her mother died. She listed no home church in Houston on the application.

  Removing his glasses, he folded and tucked them into the pocket of his shirt. Sam knew what he must do. What the Holy Spirit prompted him to do. It started with the devotional tomorrow morning. Even if Lexa chose not to come to the bonfire tonight, he hoped to see her there in the morning. It was at the top of his personal prayer list, the one he shared with no one but the Almighty.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Coming with us, Lexa?” Amy pulled a lightweight sweatshirt around her shoulders and tied the sleeves together across her chest with a casual, practiced move. It was the same way the preppy kids in college wore their sweaters, bouncing along to the tennis courts or club activities. L
exa had seen it all before with her clients. It was the unconscious gestures that gave Amy away—tying the sweatshirt, the tilt of her pinky when holding a cup, certain inflections in her voice. She was generous and unassuming, but this girl had a trust fund.

  Lexa shook her head. “Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow night.”

  Amy shrugged and smiled. “I understand, believe me. You’ll get used to the pace here. It won’t take long.” She called to Rebekah to wait and followed her out the door.

  Alone at last. Having so many people around constantly with all the commotion and chatter was draining. Even though part of her enjoyed it and liked the companionship, she also craved the solitude. That’s why she didn’t share her townhome in Houston with anyone else. Not even a cat.

  Sitting on her bed and staring at the empty walls, Lexa weighed her options. She could read the romance novel in her suitcase or go to bed. But she wasn’t quite ready to retire for the night and felt restless.

  Since she hadn’t been to any kind of camp since she was a young girl, Lexa didn’t like the imposition of guidelines or curfews dictating what she could—and couldn’t—do. She wasn’t a rebel in any sense of the word, but she was independent and feisty enough to balk against being made to obey rules. She was an adult, capable of managing her own life and making her own decisions. After all, isn’t that what she’d been doing the last seven years, four years in college and then living on her own?

  Pulling the book from her suitcase under the bed, Lexa sat down on the mattress and began to undo the laces of her work boots. They were quite dirty after working at the worksite. Yanking the boots off her tired feet, Lexa grimaced when she glimpsed her filthy socks. Peeling them off and draping them across the boots, she pushed them beneath her bed, out of sight. Combined with the heat and hard work, she’d be paying a visit to the laundry room sooner than later.

  Lexa plopped down on the bed with a tired sigh. She almost laughed aloud when she turned the book over and spied the virile-looking cowboy who bore an uncanny resemblance to the TeamWork leader. Perhaps she shouldn’t read this particular book since there was a living, breathing example of a man like this right here in the camp. But considering it was the only vice in her life, she felt somewhat justified.