by JoAnn Durgin
Lowering the sunglasses, he gave her a startled look. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?”
A rumble of laughter began somewhere deep inside, bubbling up and bursting forth in an embarrassing fit of giggles. She didn’t care. And then she laughed even harder, releasing the pent-up frustration. A few tears escaped. Beside her, Sam laughed almost as hard as she did.
Wiping tears from her wet cheeks, Lexa lifted her eyes heavenward. Squeezing her eyes tight, she breathed the first silent prayer she’d said in a very long time, asking God to help her get to the TeamWork camp intact. Opening her eyes a few seconds later, she caught Sam watching her with a definite sparkle in those blue eyes.
“I think our adventure has already started.” His smile sobered. “Really, Lexa. Please tell me if anything hurts.” His concern for her welfare was touching. Of course, he didn’t need a lawsuit against TeamWork. Might as well put his mind at ease.
“I’m fine. Just embarrassed you’ve had to ask me that same question twice in the last forty minutes or however long it’s been since we met. I didn’t expect a goat crossing out here in the middle of Nowhereville.”
Glancing out the window, Lexa cried out in alarm when she spied the goat right beside her open window. It was too late. That crazy old goat worked its jaws and wound up like a major leaguer as it hurled a sticky wad of spit mixed with dry grass through the open window, dead-on in its aim for her cheek.
“Oh! Ew!” Lexa recoiled in shock as it oozed a downward path toward her jaw. Her hand flew to her face. She snatched it away in disgust and stared at her goopy fingers. “Couldn’t you have yelled incoming or something to warn me?” Reaching for her purse on the floor by her feet, she fumbled for a tissue.
“I’m as surprised as you, trust me. I thought only llamas liked to spit. Here. Allow me.” Sam leaned across the seat and retrieved the package of tissues at the top of her purse. “Normally, I would never invade a woman’s sacred property, but you obviously need a little help.”
Lexa’s pulse picked up speed when she remembered the romance novel stuffed in her purse. She prayed Sam hadn’t seen it. She wasn’t up to any explanations. It was clear he was trying not to laugh as he pulled out a tissue and held it up to her face. Stunned speechless, Lexa turned her cheek toward him. Anchoring her chin with firm fingers, Sam dabbed away the offending slobber with a surprisingly gentle touch. Funny thing, he didn’t appear awkward about it in the least.
“I’ve been called upon to perform many duties as TeamWork director, but this is a first.” Sam grinned and eased his hold on her chin. “If nothing else, I think you’re definitely going to challenge me this summer.”
“I don’t know what to say. That was a first for me, too.” Relaxing a bit, Lexa cracked a grin. “Thanks for de-sliming me.” She wiped off her fingers and carefully deposited the tissue in the plastic bag he handed to her. Glancing out the window, she spied her bovid assailant ambling through a nearby field.
“You’re welcome. I’m the oldest of six in my family. Growing up, we had dogs, cats, birds, turtles, frogs, rabbits and the occasional guinea pig, so I’m used to cleaning animal . . . stuff.” Sam chuckled. “The way I see it, that goat was mighty sweet on you, Miss Clarke. I’d take it as the highest form of compliment.”
Lexa laughed, and relaxed even more. “You’re out of your Freudian mind, Mr. Lewis.”
“Oh, I’m sure old Sigmund would have some interesting observations about it. There’s bound to be a metaphor in there somewhere. Just a tip. As a self-protective measure—and since you seem to attract all creatures, great and small—you might want to roll up the window until we get to the camp in a few more minutes. It’s almost time to hit the bovine crossing.” His brows lifted.
With a smirk, Lexa rolled up the window. For good measure and all.
As they headed down that never-ending dirt road again, Sam was quiet for another few minutes before slowing the car and glancing her way. “It’s now or never. Last chance to back out before we get to the TeamWork camp.” His expression was hard to read, and she couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. He already thought she was incompetent with tools, and an animal magnet. And liked numbers more than people. And wore inappropriate shoes.
A nervous giggle escaped and she settled back against the seat. “Dream on if you think you’re going to get rid of me that easy. If we ever actually reach the TeamWork camp. I’ll have you know I was voted Most Resourceful Volunteer at a Habitat for Humanity project last summer. So, it’s not like I haven’t helped with this type of thing before.” That sounded boastful and totally self-absorbed. She really needed to learn to be quiet sometimes.
Sam smiled. “I don’t doubt it for a second. If I may ask, what task were you assigned at the Habitat worksite?”
Lexa bit her lip. She looked out the window and avoided those probing eyes.
“Lexa?”
She shook her head. “Let’s just say I stretched the food budget and fed seventy-five people with provisions for fifty.” She shrugged. “Simple mathematics and reasoning.”
“So, you multiplied the loaves and fish?”
“Guess chicken and potatoes, and you’re getting somewhere.”
“Well, if our food supplies run low, I’ll know to come to you. You’ve proven yourself pretty hardy. You’ve already passed the dust-in-the-lungs attack, the flat tire and the goat spitting thing. Those are impressive feats all on their own.”
Lexa dropped her gaze from those probing eyes. “May I ask why you’re looking at me like that? Surely I don’t look like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.”
“No. But you do look sort of like a . . . oh, I don’t know . . . maybe a goat in the headlights or something.”
“Very funny. Just drive, Mr. Lewis.”
He chuckled. “Your wish is my command.”
Maybe that old goat actually did her a favor. After the eventful trip from the San Antonio bus station to the campsite, she felt inspired and ready to face any challenge TeamWork threw her way. She’d survived a spit assault by a major league goat, so anything was possible. It was downright empowering.
“One other thing. I hope you don’t plan on wearing any perfume other than bug spray while you’re at the TeamWork camp. It might attract . . . certain creatures, too.”
What in the world did he mean by that? Was he flirting? Lexa decided to ignore it. “Sam?”
“Yep?” Another grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Bring it on.” Okay, maybe that was flirty. He didn’t seem to mind. Lexa slid further down into the seat, but not before she spied what must be the TeamWork camp in the distance. It was about time.
Sam echoed her thoughts. “Ready or not, TeamWork, here we come.” Sam pressed harder on the accelerator, sending another cloud of dust swirling around the station wagon.
She was ready. So far, so good. Bring it on, indeed.
CHAPTER 4
The sight of several ugly, gray concrete buildings sprawled across the flat landscape greeted them. Relief flooded through Lexa. She’d started to think the road to the TeamWork camp was some never-ending loop, and she’d be stuck in the old Volvo station wagon with this inquisitive but distractingly handsome giant the rest of her life.
Small groups of men and women walked across the campsite. They looked to be a good mix of ages, although mostly young, and a variety of ethnicities. As Sam drove them further into the campsite, some waved and smiled.
Parking beside a small concrete building, Sam stepped out of the car and stretched his arms in a high arc above his head. “Gotta work out the kinks.” He shot her a grin. “Stay put. Chivalry’s at work. Be there in a second.” She stayed put. A few seconds later, the door of the Volvo creaked a little as he opened Lexa’s door. “Sounds like it needs oiling again to get out its kinks.”
“Hi, Sam!” A tall, slender girl with long blonde hair walked toward them. Lexa bit her lower lip, feeling dwarfed and dowdy by comparison. This gorgeous creature could put on
a potato sack and make it look like designer wear. Most likely there was a beauty queen crown in her closet. But her smile was as friendly and genuine as they come.
“Hey, Beck. This is Lexa Clarke.” Lexa darted a glance at Sam. At least he didn’t display that idiotic, besotted expression most men adopt around a beautiful woman.
“Hi, Lexa.” Her voice had a distinctive, southern drawl, genteel and cultured. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Rebekah Grant, one of your roommates while you’re here for the summer.” She gathered her close in a quick hug. “Welcome to TeamWork.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Somewhat embarrassed, Lexa surveyed their surroundings. “Exactly how many roommates do we have?”
“Six others besides us. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. None of us snore or have any disgusting habits. We have Sam for all that,” Rebekah teased with a wink in Sam’s direction. With an amused grunt, he hoisted Lexa’s suitcase over one shoulder and started walking across the campsite toward a row of the gray, one-level buildings a short distance away. Lexa hastened to catch up to him, a near impossible task since his strides were so long.
Pausing, Sam turned back toward her. “This is actually an old prisoner work camp.”
Lexa gulped. Was the prisoner tale some rite of initiation? Perhaps they gave the new volunteers that line to gauge how gullible they are. “Well, as long as I don’t run into the old chain gang, I’m good. But if that happens, all bets are off.”
Sam and Rebekah both laughed. “It really is an old prison work camp,” she whispered as they resumed walking, “but that was a long time ago.”
Something in Sam’s expression revealed an ease of familiarity around Rebekah. Lexa wondered if there was more to it, but she seemed pretty young. She couldn’t be much older than twenty or twenty-one. Judging by the faint lines crinkling the corners of Sam’s eyes, and the tinges of silver at his temples, he must be in his late twenties or early thirties.
“What kinds of ministry . . . things do you do around here, Rebekah?”
“I do a little bit of everything, like most of us here at the camp. We all pitch in where we’re needed most. It helps break the monotony, and you get to know everyone better. Most of the time, I work with the children in the schoolroom, keeping the preschoolers occupied and out of trouble so their fathers and mothers can help rebuild the houses destroyed by the flood.” Pushing a few strands of long hair behind one ear, Rebekah looked over at her. “What area of ministry are you most interested in?”
Lexa hesitated as she thought of an appropriate response. She really should work on an answer to that question. It was bound to come up again.
“I’m sure once Lexa has the opportunity to check everything out, she’ll be able to plug in and help us out tremendously.”
The unexpected show of support was surprising, and Lexa darted a grateful smile in Sam’s direction. “How many new TeamWork volunteers do you have this summer, Sam?”
“Seven. I’ve worked with most of the other volunteers on at least one other mission.”
Either TeamWork or this man inspired loyalty. Maybe both. Lexa turned her attention back to Rebekah. “Are you a schoolteacher?”
“You guessed right. I’m planning on being an elementary teacher. I’m from a small town outside Baton Rouge, and I’ll be a senior this year at LSU.” Rebekah the Teacher would be a first love for all the smitten boys, and the girls would adore her. Her apparent calm, patient manner should be a plus when dealing with children.
Opening the screen door of one of the nondescript, long, narrow buildings, Sam held it open and waited. Lexa made a mental note that it was Building Seven. Considering the fact the concrete structure housed eight women, it was a bit cramped, but serviceable. In a quick glimpse, she surveyed a few single beds, a couple of bunk beds and what she hoped was a small bathroom with running water.
“There’s a bathroom with shower in each dorm, and a washer and dryer in the building two doors down to the right. It’s always the first question women ask,” Sam advised with a grin. The TeamWork leader was uncanny in reading her mind sometimes.
“We’re going to paint the walls this weekend, if you want to help. We also saved you one of the single beds.” Motioning to one of the beds that looked not much better than a glorified cot, Rebekah stood aside as Sam lowered Lexa’s suitcase. Considering how much she’d crammed into it, Lexa was grateful he didn’t make a crack about bringing everything she owned. He handled it like it was featherweight.
It was considerate of the other women to think of her needs and not stick her on the top of a bunk bed, not that she would have minded. Rebekah took a couple of minutes to explain the basic daily routine and showed her the small bathroom and lockers where they could store personal items. Out of the corner of her eye, Lexa noticed Sam lounging against the door frame, lightly twirling his Stetson and whistling under his breath.
“Are you two going to stand around talking all day or are we going to lunch?” he asked a couple of minutes later when they finished. “They’ve probably started without us.”
Lexa was surprised Sam waited in the first place. Surely the TeamWork director had more pressing things to do.
Rebekah rolled her eyes and shot an apologetic glance Lexa’s way. “Doubtful they’d start without our fearless leader. Relax, Mr. Taskmaster. We’re coming. Besides, we’re not that late. How long have you been standing there eavesdropping?”
Sam laughed and followed them out the door of the small building, replacing his hat as soon as he stepped outside. He was right about one thing. The rest of the volunteers were already eating when they arrived at the dining tent. Lunch was a quick, bustling event with ham sandwiches, salad, chips and iced tea or lemonade accompanied by an abundance of rowdy laughter and good-natured teasing.
Rebekah explained that specific individuals were in charge of the cooking, but everyone was expected to take turns pitching to help set the long tables, serve the meals and help with cleanup. Food supplies were brought in by truck a couple of times per week from a grocer in San Antonio.
Most of the workers seemed well-acquainted and enjoyed an easy camaraderie she hoped to share soon enough. It could be that a number of them knew each other from home churches or previous TeamWork camps. Preferring to stay quiet beside Rebekah, Lexa listened to the conversations around her as she ate, not really tasting anything. Her mind was muddled from all the names and faces of the people she’d be working alongside for the next eight weeks.
As the volunteers talked about the various assignments in the camp, it hit her that this mission would be tough in some respects—a physical challenge, sort of like boot camp. The TeamWork representative who interviewed her in Houston told her in no uncertain terms that it would be long hours and hard work. So, it wasn’t like she wasn’t forewarned.
San Antonio was also a fun city with lots to see. The TeamWork orientation leader explained she’d have two free weekends during the eight-week assignment. Maybe then she’d have time to explore the Alamo, the Riverwalk with its winding walkways and open-air cafes, and the festive street markets with their colorful wares. The old missions outside the city also intrigued her. For the most part, the TeamWork experience was going to be the side of San Antonio most tourists never see.
Hearing someone call Sam’s name, Lexa glanced his way. Very animated, engrossed in conversation, he gestured with his hands. He possessed a natural, effortless charisma. But Sam had a bit of a grouchy side, too. Hitting him on the leg with that heavy tire iron hadn’t helped. To be fair, that would irritate most people. He’d have a nasty bruise to show for it in a day or two. Sam alternated between teasing her, being nice to her, fussing at her, and asking thought-provoking questions that challenged her. He was an enigma in some ways, but overall, Sam came across as genuine, and seemed to care for all his volunteers.
Maybe it was part of Sam’s job to make everyone at the camp feel welcome. She wondered why he’d been the one to pick her up at the bus terminal. Was i
t only because she was a first-time volunteer? If Sam picked up every one of his volunteers, he’d spend every blessed minute of the first few days running around in that old car. The thought made her grin.
Leaving the dining tent, Lexa’s heart fluttered as her eyes met Sam’s. She focused on moving her feet forward when he fell into place beside her. When she darted a quick glance his way, she saw compassion in those blue eyes. He knew. Knew how scared she was. Frightened the others wouldn’t like her, wouldn’t accept her once they found out she didn’t go to church or know much about the things of God. Their God. But was He also her God?
“Don’t worry, Lexa. It’ll be okay.” When she paused, Sam placed a light hand on her forearm. Unbidden tears welled and threatened to escape. He couldn’t know those were the exact words her mother said before she passed away from cancer when Lexa was a scared eight-year-old, fighting the fear of abandonment. Six words meant to comfort and give her hope for the uncertain future. Words that meant so much for her heart.
“I’m not worried.” Lexa fought to keep her voice even and blinked hard. “Why would you think that?” Not sure she wanted to hear what came next, she started walking again. Dropping his hand from her arm, Sam kept pace beside her again. He was a persistent man. That didn’t exactly come as a surprise.
“Try not to take everything so personally.” Before she could respond, he continued on. “I’m sure it’s hard, being thrust in the middle of something so unfamiliar.”
Lexa fought the urge to cross her arms. Sam was only trying to be nice and spoke the truth. “It was completely my choice to come. I’ll adapt.” She tilted her head to one side. “You seem to have a lot of questions about me, Mr. Lewis. Isn’t there a file with my volunteer application or something? Surely that should fill in some of the blanks.”