Noah chuckled. “Well, you’re certainly a woman who’s thought it through.”
“C’mon, I told you my father was a pastor. We were fed Bible stories for supper.” Anne moved her marshmallow away from the flames and found a new nesting place. The marshmallow had begun to bubble brown at the tip.
“I think whenever we encounter something that God does that doesn’t mesh with our view of Him, we need to take a closer look. Why did He do it? Confusion is a perfect opportunity to understand God better.” Noah stood up, slapped his hands. “Stick around one more second?”
How could she say no to the texture of pleading in those sweet brown eyes?
Noah ran toward the lodge and returned moments later with a guitar. Anne just about fell off her log when he sat down and began to strum. Noah Standing Bear certainly knew how to tangle her stereotypes.
And his voice, like warm syrup, went right to her bones. A soft, sweet tenor that had obviously done time in a choir. He closed his eyes, and the sight of a man, vulnerable before God, nearly brought tears to her eyes.
Who was this man?
“‘Seek ye first, the kingdom of God, and His righteousness. And all these things will be added unto you. . . .’”
She closed her eyes, listening, wanting to join in the familiar tune, fighting the sudden constriction in her chest. Tears burned the back of her eyes. Seek His kingdom. Seek Him. She had sought Him . . . at one time. But since that fateful day, she’d barely looked at God. Didn’t want to face the One who had turned her life inside out.
Noah’s song ended without her making a blubbering fool of herself. She gave him an insincere smile, wondering if disappointment ringed his eyes.
“Thank you for your help today, Anne.” Noah strummed the guitar, the tune haunting but melodic as it filtered into the mosaic of other night songs. “I don’t know what pain you’ve gone through, but I know you confronted it to help me today.”
The lump returned and with it an annoying glaze of tears. Then her marshmallow flamed. Anne waved the torch and screamed, spraying pieces of marshmallow into the campfire.
Noah grabbed the stick. “Stop!” He blew it out, laughing. “I see you need another lesson in proper marshmallow management.”
“Listen, Mr. Eagle Scout,” Anne said, fighting giggles, thankful she had a distraction for her tears, “there’s more to life than roasting marshmallows.”
“Doubtful. Roasting marshmallows is key in developing character. You have to be patient. Seek the perfect embers. Learn to stay out of the blaze.” He looked down at her, stern. “And most importantly, you have to be willing to eat the burned part.”
“I happen to love burnt marshmallows.” She reached for the stick, hiding a grimace.
He crouched in front of her, a smile on his face, his eyes warm. He lowered his voice. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Anne.” He blew softly on the charred mallow. The flaky black skin puffed away, leaving only soft cream. “Sometimes the things that look the most ruined are really hiding the prize underneath.”
He handed her the treat, but his gaze, twinkling with some sort of magic, held hers. She heard only the beating of her heart, smelled only the fragrance of his masculine woodsy charm.
No, Noah wasn’t such a big, scary hoodlum after all.
8
Noah knew it was a dream. The voice of sanity in the back of his brain chanted softly, but the smells, sounds, and tastes of that night still constricted his chest.
In his sleep, the Southern Comfort burned his throat and pitched his stomach. The world tilted around him. He smelled the enticing mix of perfume and hair gel and felt the soft-as-a-whisper touch of lips. “This homeboy’s putty,” a voice cooed. A smattering of laughter, then it mixed into the clamor of voices and music. The world spun again, a menagerie of bright, vibrant colors. Impressions, none of them distinct. Senses melded together until he couldn’t extract reality from reverie.
Noah woke up hard, his heart pounding, feeling sick to his pores. The darkness filling the room felt thick and oppressive. He kicked back his blanket, thankful for the cold night air that snapped him to consciousness. Still the past filled his brain.
He’d never forget, no matter how he tried to erase that moment, when he’d awoken in a strange bed, feeling and smelling like he’d been run over by a garbage truck. And to complete the sensation, his mouth had tasted like he’d licked the inside of a Dumpster. Then he saw the girl next to him and horror hit him like a fist. One of the VL homegirls had her arm curled around his body as if she owned it.
Noah sank his head into his hands, hearing again the laughter, seeing it on L’il Lee’s face, in Shorty Mac’s eyes. Lecherous, victorious laughter, as if he’d passed some sort of test. It embedded his heart like a stain, burned him like acid. Pursued him like a wolf.
He still hadn’t outrun that night.
Noah trembled, cold sweat prickling his body. The nightmares always tore a swath through the fabric of his heart, ripping to shreds the sheen of cleanness he’d created in Christ. He groaned, then rolled off the couch onto all fours. The wood-planked floor cooled his hands. A hint of dawn invaded the room, golden light seeping across the wood. The things he’d done and the person he’d been sometimes threatened to consume him.
He had no business cultivating a relationship with Anne Lundstrom. She was clean, pure, light, and joy. Despite his new-creation-in-Christ status, he still had scars etched in his heart, scars that he’d never erase.
Pastor Dan’s voice echoed in his brain. You have to trust Him to make you into the person He wants you to be. How he wished he could be someone without blemish, someone worthy of Anne’s heart.
He wanted to tell himself that his only desire yesterday had been to give Anne a vision for what could happen here. But once she’d arrived, bringing the sunshine with her smile, his tongue glued to his mouth. He’d resorted to praying that perhaps, just by inhaling the fresh breeze, by seeing the crucible of God’s fabulous creation, Anne would dive into his project.
But by evening he’d moved past hoping that she’d stay for the summer to dreaming she might stay . . . forever. He’d been wildly jigging into the realms of fantasy, wanting to believe she smiled for him, laughed at his jokes. That the shine in her eyes was generated by her own budding dreams, and that she’d spent the day at Wilderness Challenge not because of guilt or obligation but because she wanted to be with him, a man who wanted to know her more.
Noah touched his forehead to the floor, fighting a swell of nausea. Anne was light-years out of his universe. Yes, he’d prayed and dreamed for a woman, a partner who would be everything he wasn’t and more, a woman who lived to change lives, to love the unlovable. It did dangerous things to his heart to hope that person could be a lady with hazel green eyes and rich chestnut hair. Anne had made it unequivocally clear that her future was here in Deep Haven.
And his was in Minneapolis.
But she was so beautiful, with an innocence written on her face that made all his protective instincts spring to life. He didn’t know what kind of demons she had roaming about her past, but he wanted to grab each one by the throat and free her. She’d probably never even envisioned the life he’d lived, hadn’t the slightest clue what it felt like to be so deep in sin you started your day gasping. If she harbored even one inkling about the type of man he’d been, well, she’d turn and peel out of his life so fast the breeze in her wake would turn him cold.
No, he was treading dangerous territory hoping she’d return today. He’d enjoyed the way she laughed, the texture of her beautiful smile, tentative yet fascinated. And something about the fragrance of a woman who spent the day not caring what she looked like but rather about what she did tugged at his heart. He wanted to believe trust finally hued her incredible eyes. And a man worthy of trust ran from temptation and the appearance of evil.
Anne shouldn’t be here. Not alone. Not with him. That realization felt like a sledgehammer in his chest. He groaned, then rolled over on hi
s back and stared at the beamed ceiling. He liked her way too much for a man who was supposed to be her boss, way too much to invite her back for another round of roasted hot dogs and marshmallows in front of a romantic campfire. If he didn’t watch himself, he’d be offering her his heart instead of a job. Even if in his wildest dreams she would cater to that thought, he knew better. He might be a saved and cleansed member of the body of Christ, but next to Anne, he felt like a tattered refugee straight out of some war-torn country.
Anne Lundstrom shouldn’t be within ten miles of Noah Standing Bear alone.
One more night sitting under the canopy of the heavens, listening to a loon call skip across the lake, watching the moon turn her hair to copper might make him lose his mind.
He might take her into his arms.
And wouldn’t that kindle trust in her eyes? Just when he might have convinced her he wasn’t the local thug.
Why couldn’t God supply a hairy, muscular, rough-edged paramedic for his camp nurse? No, the Almighty had to provide a pretty, petite woman, with an attitude that packed a punch and a smile that could turn a man inside out.
Then again, Anne’s smile, her tenderness were exactly what the street kids needed. Especially if they got hurt. Noah had more raw toughness than Wilderness Challenge ever needed. Obviously God knew his staffing needs better than he did.
Still, a smart man would look his weakness straight in the face, ignore the pang in his chest, and tell her not to come back.
At least not until Saturday.
Anne sat in the hospital parking lot feeling giddy. How odd that one day with a near stranger could send her heart skipping like a teenager’s before prom. She ran her hand through Bertha’s thick fur. “You liked him too, didn’t you?” She rubbed her nose on the dog’s wet snout. Bertha sniffed her, then responded with a sloppy kiss. Noah evidently had a positive effect on all women.
Anne had barely slept the night through, replaying the way he stood in the yard, hands in his jeans pockets, watching her drive away. The wind had mussed his dark hair, and the return-to-me look in his eyes had her promising the summer to him.
She admitted that her fledgling decision to commit to Wilderness Challenge for the summer wasn’t completely altruistic. Was it so terrible to surrender to his warm friendship or his honorable project? She’d been numb for so long, it frightened her to know that a man she’d barely met made her feel so alive, so wildly hopeful. She hadn’t come to Deep Haven looking for romance.
She laughed aloud. Bertha looked at her, blinking those glassy brown eyes. Romance? She shook her head. She’d obviously let fancy have its way with her. For a moment she had wondered what it would feel like to hold Noah’s wide hand. To be caught in his strong arms. The idea made her giggle. So maybe romance could be in her future. Noah surely had romance in his eyes.
She hoped she hadn’t dreamed that part.
She watched Sandra drive up in her Scout, get out, and stride up to the hospital entrance. Anne lifted her hand in a wave, but Sandra didn’t see her. A surge of thankfulness swept through Anne for her new friend. Only two days ago, Sandra had let her rant and rave without comment, and her only word of wisdom had been pray. Anne glanced at heaven, at the wispy cirrus clouds, the golden sunlight as radiant and warm as Noah’s eyes.
Thanks, God. The words tightened her chest. She’d been avoiding heaven for a good while, but this turn of events felt pretty heaven sent. Maybe God had decided to cut her some slack, add abundance to her dreary world. Maybe the Almighty still cared about Anne Lundstrom. It didn’t mean she could trust Him, but certainly He had kindled an ember of hope. Perhaps that spark would ignite her faith.
If Anne were to be honest, she had to admit to a regular inferno of hope raging in her chest.
“Stay here, Bertha. I’ll be right back.” Anne cracked the windows and exited her SUV, shutting the door before the dog could barrel out. Bertha let out a whine. “Sorry, honey; it’ll just be a second.” A short stop in Dr. Simpson’s office, and then she’d floor it up to Gunflint Trail. She couldn’t wait to see the look in Noah’s beautiful eyes when she appeared on his doorstep, sleeves rolled up, ready to sign on the dotted line.
The roar of a motorcycle made her pause, turn, and freeze as she watched the man in her thoughts pull into the lot. The sight of Noah dressed in a leather jacket, black jeans, and work boots, handling his bike as if he were astride a galloping stallion, made her heart stand up and jig.
She stayed beside her vehicle, forcing herself not to run out to him. Her mother’s voice twanged in the back of her brain: Don’t appear too anxious, honey. Let the boys do the courting. Anne rolled her eyes at the practical advice.
But she obeyed. As she watched Noah park the bike, she wondered what element about him always sent a thrill through her. Yes, his eyes turned her weak and he had arms sturdy enough to hold back her fears. It wasn’t his hair, although that begged for a woman’s touch. It had to be his bearing. Noah Standing Bear exuded a very intoxicating mix of danger and protection. Like a lion pacing around his pride. She wondered, for a rebellious, giddy, idiotic moment, how it would feel to be the woman in his care.
He turned toward the hospital. His face looked grim, and something about the way he strode across the parking lot, his fists clenched at his sides, sent a streak of fear through her. “Noah?”
He stopped and looked her way. For a second, she wondered if he had actually paled. He didn’t smile, and that omission made her feel oddly ill, as if she’d eaten the smoked fish head in his fridge. “Hi.”
“Hi, back.” She fought the wild impulse to dive in the car and floor it, but some sort of desperation rooted her to the spot as he trudged over to her.
“I was hoping to catch you.”
The way he said it told her he wasn’t intending to ask her out for breakfast. She swallowed a swelling lump in her throat. “Yes?”
He looked away, and she thought she saw him wince. Then his jaw hardened, and when he faced her again, the coldness in his eyes made her hurt to her toes. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to return to Wilderness Challenge. You did a great job yesterday, and I’m very thankful for your help. But please, don’t come back.”
She felt as if she’d been punched in the chest. Her breath vanished. “Don’t come back?”
“Not until Saturday—that’s when the rest of the staff arrives. Staff training starts on Monday, if you want to wait until then.”
She wanted to turn and flee, to escape this raw moment before she burst into betraying tears and he saw clear to her wounded heart. Pride kept her feet in place. She forced herself to nod, totally confused. “Okay.”
But it wasn’t okay. Did he think he could just use her—which he was so obviously doing—to get the funding for the summer? Noah didn’t want her; he wanted her skills, her diploma. Her eyes began to burn.
He didn’t look at her. “Great. So, I’ll see you Monday?”
Total shock made her agree before she realized she’d even spoken. Sure, she’d love to spend the summer letting him twist her heart right out of her chest.
“Thanks again for your help yesterday.” The words sounded wooden, to match his expression.
Anne shrugged, unable to comprehend how her golden future had turned completely black.
Then he turned and walked—no, ran—back to his motorcycle. Anne clenched her jaw, but she couldn’t stave off the flood of tears as she watched him drive away, his back straight and proud like a warrior who’d just shot his prey.
9
The air smelled of Lake Superior, fresh and cleansing—exactly what Anne needed after three days of rain and gloom. She hung her elbow out of Dr. Jefferies’ silver Lexus, thankful he’d chosen to drive to the reservation clinic today. The silence on her lonely trek north up Highway 61 the past three days, through a gray sheet of fog and surprising June chill, had left her raw and barren. Solitude—something she’d once craved—seemed like honorable mention after Noah’s vibrant company.
She’d been instantly grateful for Dr. Simpson’s meddling and bossiness when he commanded her to assist Jenny Olson at the Granite River Indian Reservation medical clinic. These last couple of days in the nurse’s capable and cheerful presence had kept Anne’s mind from wandering back to Wilderness Challenge and diving into a heart-wrenching daydream of Noah chopping wood or rigging the tents. It nearly made her cry the few times she thought of him with his hands in his pockets, watching the lake, eyes filled with some exotic mystery she would have longed to solve.
Anne groaned and closed her eyes. It felt totally unfair that Noah had invaded her heart in one day, while she had been nothing more to him than a money cow. She now recognized that return-to-me look for what it was—greed.
She should have known better than to trust him. Hadn’t her years living in the hood taught her anything? She thought her heart was smarter than to go soggy at a pair of beautiful eyes and rugged charisma. Even if for the briefest of moments she’d felt safe and as if she’d found someone who didn’t look at her like prey, she should have kept her heart safely under lock and key. She felt like a boy-crazy dolt. He would never have a chance to charm her with his deceptive powers again . . . he’d have to tie her up and gag her to get her back to Wilderness Challenge.
Too bad she hadn’t said that on the spot to his handsome face. Maybe she could just . . . not show up on Monday morning? The thought of him tracking her down, fire in his eyes, made her wince. The last thing she needed was his disturbing the peace at Edith’s. She moaned, wishing she had been quicker with her tongue so she could have scraped up the words to tell Mr. Noah Standing Bear exactly what she thought of him and his employment techniques.
Dr. Jefferies smiled at her. “Glad to have you along with me today. I hear you’ve had a good week.”
Anne nodded as she glanced at the doctor. Now here was a man worthy of her attention. Clean-cut, blond hair, kind brown eyes, groomed hands firmly on the steering wheel. She’d been a fool to fall so easily for tall, dark, and handsome. She’d let her idiotic heart whisk her off to never-never land, making it apparent she’d left her brain in Minneapolis when she moved to Deep Haven. Thankfully, it had tracked her down in time to settle her into her job. She was here to learn, and today she was under the tutelage of handsome, normal, proper family doctor Richard Jefferies, the latest and best catch from the pool of eligible bachelors. Not that she was fishing, but it was important to be in the right company.
Deep Haven [02] Tying the Knot Page 10