He’d known it the day she’d floored it into his camp, spent the day helping him construct his dreams, and sat with him in front of a crackling fire. Knew, even then, that Anne Lundstrom was the miracle he’d been waiting for his entire life.
But before he’d been able to force out the truth, lay his heart out in the open, she’d looked at him, her love clear and full and beckoning in her eyes, and he’d melted. He’d let his emotions run right over his words, and he’d kissed her. Without promises. Without any verbal vulnerability.
Oh, he was a real winner.
And he shouldn’t forget—she was afraid of him. Or at least had been. She’d never answered him, and for some reason that omission sliced through him. Wanted. Afraid. Right now, their future seemed as iffy as Darrin’s life.
The shore loomed closer, a dent in the haze of black treescape. Noah arrowed for it.
Maybe this accident was a giant “get real” from God. Noah Standing Bear, wake up and smell the looming antiseptic. Anne Lundstrom had a future here . . . Noah did not. If this accident didn’t make that painfully clear, he hated to guess what God would use to get his attention. All he needed now was for his campers to draw lines in the dirt and drag out the Glocks they’d probably brought along and hidden in their packs.
Trust Me. The words beat inside him, keeping tune with his pounding heart. Noah’s throat thickened, unable to scrape up a response. It wasn’t God who was inadequate . . . it was him.
It suddenly became as clear as the stars overhead. Noah should cut his losses and run. He should head south to the only job he’d had that he could do—and do well—and not try to be someone he wasn’t. He should leave Anne to find her peaceful life in Deep Haven, one she sorely deserved, and exit her life before he caused her even more pain.
Headlights appeared on the landing. Noah recognized Dan’s SUV. Dan shut off the lights, then got out, a fuzzy shadow of worry pacing the shoreline.
Noah couldn’t let Dan see the failure written all over his face. The pastor would find out soon enough. Maybe Noah would be able to sell the canoes back to Courageous Outfitters. The lake property would probably rent to someone else quickly.
He already missed the smell of the forest, the call of loons across the lake. Already missed Anne’s beautiful face in the soft glow of a campfire, as she tried to roast a marshmallow to perfection.
“Noah?” Dan’s voice rang across the water. Noah lifted his paddle, then glided the canoe in. Dan caught the bow. “Chopper’s on the way.”
25
Anne felt a hand on her shoulder, dragging her out of her exhausted slumber into the hues of daylight. She lifted her head off Darrin’s hospital bed. She’d fallen asleep in the padded chair next to his bed. The cotton sheets had embedded the wrinkles of sleep on her face. Grimy, bone-weary, and cold, she leaned easily into the one-arm hug Sandra proffered. “How are you doing this morning, kiddo?”
Anne cast a look at her patient. Swallowed in a cast up to his hip, with an oxygen mask strapped to his sleeping, oh-so-young face, Darrin was a picture of a miracle. Relief, or perhaps exhaustion, waxed Anne’s eyes with moisture.
“I’m okay.” She cast a look at her filthy clothes and grimaced. “I need a hot shower, my fleece sweatpants, wool socks, and a hot cup of tea.”
Sandra laughed. Dressed in a lavender top and a pair of sensible white shoes, she emanated sanity and peace.
“It’s good to be back in civilization,” Anne added.
Sandra patted her shoulder. “Dan and some of the church members went in with Noah this morning to bring the campers back. With the adults at the stern, they should be home tonight.”
“I’ll bet the kids are pretty shook up. You should have seen their faces last night when the rescue team came in. Real-life heroes in the backwoods. Noah would have used it in a Soul Talk.”
Sandra hummed, taking Darrin’s pulse. She put his wrist down and adjusted his covers. The boy was still sleeping, but thank the Lord, he’d roused briefly around 2 A.M. when the rescue team hoisted him into the helicopter. Anne nearly collapsed in relief when the airlift team took over, established an IV line in Darrin, wrapped her in a blanket, and helped her into the helicopter. Sensitive to the fear of the surrounding campers, they’d even allowed Latisha to hug her brother.
Latisha had whispered a prayer before they’d ferried Darrin away, one that seeded Anne’s heart with hope. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep . . .” Latisha barely choked out the last words, but Anne finished them with her. “And if I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”
But Darrin didn’t die. His unsaved soul was still earthbound, not quite ready for its eternal destiny.
As if affirming it, Darrin had awakened midflight. On a fresh wash of morphine, he was coherent enough to tell Anne that riding in the helicopter was a “total bomb” and gave her a half grin.
That grin went right to her heart. She wished Noah had seen it. Poor guy didn’t even know that Darrin not only survived but had let her pray for him as he drifted off to unconsciousness again.
Anne stood, stretched. Sunlight trumpeted through the windows along the sterile whites of the hospital room. It was a gorgeous Deep Haven summer day. Out on the Boundary Water lakes, the sunlight would be skipping off the ripples like diamonds kissing Anne’s nose. The wind would carry with it the perfume of creation.
As Anne stared out into the parking lot at the sparseness of cars, she couldn’t help but picture Noah, his strong arms paddling against the wind, his dark hair scraped back from his face, and his jaw set with a smattering of whiskers that only accentuated his dangerous, warrior aura. She couldn’t wait to wrap her arms around him and tell him that Darrin was okay. Because Noah had refused to give up, to let an accident turn to tragedy.
Wasn’t that the story of Noah’s life? Foster kid, alone in the world, snagged by the lure of the gangs, fed by the intoxication of money, power. He’d gone to jail . . . and God had turned the street hood into a man with a heart for the kids he’d left behind.
Anne wished suddenly that she could embrace his vision. All of it, including his headfirst dive into the battle for the street. She felt so ensnared in fear that she couldn’t possibly survive one battle, let along dodge the daily land mines that littered these kids’ lives.
She glanced at Darrin, at his still unwhiskered face. Innocent in sleep, nothing remained of the raging bull she’d seen attack his buddy on the rock cliff. He’d scared her with the darkness in his eyes and the hatred in his cry, even if he’d been defending his sister.
In that gut-wrenching moment, she’d recognized herself. Darkness in her eyes, hatred in her cry. Even if it was self-defense, hadn’t she hated these kids and all they represented? Had Noah looked into her eyes and seen darkness? She shivered at the thought.
How could she not have seen the lost, desperate children? Underneath their feet-planted, arms-folded, jaws-jutted, pierced exteriors lurked children who needed to know that they weren’t forgotten. They weren’t trash to be tossed into the streets for the gangs to scrape up and destroy. They were loved by Christ, and He could take even the stoniest heart and turn it into a soft, pliable organ.
It rocked her how much she wanted to see that happen. She longed to see Shelly fall to her knees and embrace her Savior. She ached to see Darrin grab on to salvation and become the man of God she knew he could be.
But how could she ever be a part of their future if she were locked away in Deep Haven?
Anne put a hand to her chest, pushed hard against her rising thoughts. No. God, my life is here. You know that. I’ve been through enough. How can You even ask me to return? You know what life is like. It’s dangerous and harsh and ugly. And I’m through suffering. The deep pang of emptiness in her soul made her want to cry.
Sandra was inspecting the traction on Darrin’s leg. Anne turned away from the window. “I feel like a hobo. I don’t suppose you could get me a pair of scrubs?”
“Not a problem. I th
ink I can even track down some shampoo and clean socks. Go sack out in that other bed. The bed count is light, and that one is yours.”
Anne gave her friend a grateful smile.
The shower washed off a week of fatigue. Anne even managed a song, a hymn that had been pressing against her thoughts and now spiraled out, off-tune and glorious.
“When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea-billows roll; whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, ‘It is well, it is well with my soul.’”
The words reverberated through her like thunder, and she braced her hands against the shower stall in a sudden gasp. Was all well with her soul?
Something certainly felt different, as if in the past week—especially in the past twenty-four hours—a tendril of hope had pushed through the dry, cold soil of her heart. Something big and precious was about to bloom. Perhaps the beauty of windswept creation had burrowed into her soul, giving her the peace she’d longed for. Or maybe it was more. Maybe it was the realization that God had heard her unspoken prayers and had given her a man who would sacrifice even his dreams for her. She could hardly believe that Noah was the man who’d fringed her thoughts for over a year—the man with the voice of silk, the touch of tenderness. God had brought him back into her world.
Surely that meant God was finally on her side, finally going to hold her in His hand and let her build a life of peace, nestled in the arms of the man she loved.
So what that Noah hadn’t told her he loved her. She felt it and saw it in his heart-sweeping eyes.
So perhaps the little bloom in her heart was joy.
She hummed the rest of the song as she stepped out of the shower and tugged on the scrubs. Sandra was a true gem. She had even called down to the Footstep of Heaven and ordered a tea. Joe, the handsome author, had delivered it himself, with a hello from Mona, right before Anne escaped to the shower room. His warm smile made Anne remember the day she’d spent with them and their reminder that appearances could be deceiving.
Wasn’t that the truth?
She returned to Darrin’s room and was greeted by a hungry Darrin, slurping green Jell-O from his dinner tray. “Hey, ya.”
“Yum.” Anne winked at him. “Glad to see you got your appetite back.”
“Want some?” He jiggled the bowl.
“Thanks, no.” Anne cupped her hands around the mug of tea and sat in the chair. “How are you feeling?”
“Are you kidding? I think I should be feeling like I got hit by a Mack truck, but that old lady nurse gave me something and I’m feeling righto.”
Anne sipped her tea. “Don’t get used to it, pal. It’s just until the healing process starts. But I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Yo, man. I wonder if you can buy this stuff.”
“Percocet? Prescription only.”
“No, Anne, I mean on the street. Like, I wonder what the street value is.”
“I don’t even want to guess.” Anne reached over and checked his oxygen level: 20 percent. His lungs, thankfully, had been clear. The oxygen was purely to ward off shock. “Listen, don’t even talk that way. Drugs aren’t to be messed with, even these. People’s lives can be ruined by any kind of addiction, even to prescription drugs.”
Darrin finished his Jell-O, sipping the last bit loudly into his mouth. “I know.”
“Yeah, well, do you know you’re a lucky young man?” Anne rolled the food tray away. “You could have died out there.”
Darrin played with the controls on his bed, raising, lowering. The mechanical bed hummed as the boy measured her words, evidenced by the hard look on his face.
Finally, he motored the bed back up and looked out the window. The sun had started to set, pushing the hospital shadow into the parking lot. Already the stark whites of the room had begun to gray. “I know. Thanks for saving my life.”
Anne finished the last of her tea, then set the mug down, not looking at him. “It wasn’t me. Noah paddled out and got help.”
Silence. “He’s full of surprises.”
“Why are you surprised? He cares about you.” Anne arched one brow, amazed that the kid couldn’t see that.
Darrin didn’t meet her gaze. “Yeah, I guess so . . .” He picked at his covers. “But I mean, why? He won’t let it alone. He’s like a pit bull. Chases me down after school, hounds me to hang with him.”
“He doesn’t want you to make the same mistakes he made.”
Darrin harrumphed. “I ain’t making no mistakes.”
“Really?” Anne pursed her lips, weighing her words. “Like nearly killing yourself on a dare?”
Darrin shrugged.
Anne bit back a spurt of anger. These kids faced rage every day. They knew how to dodge it. She fought to be calm, compassionate, so that her words might find fertile soil. “You almost died. Twice. Noah risked his neck both times for you. Not only because he cares about you and wants to keep you out of the gangs but because he knows that God has a great plan for your life and you’re about to throw it away, just like you feel thrown away.”
Darrin’s eyes turned glossy.
“Darrin, what happened to your dad was an awful thing. It wasn’t fair. But God doesn’t deal in fair. He deals in hope. When life crashes around you, you can either hold on to hope or sink. And you’re sinking. Fast. Noah’s trying to keep your head above water until you decide to reach for God.”
“And what’s God going to give me?” The voice was tough, but under the layer of contempt simmered desperation.
“A new life. One with purpose. One with strength. One with hope.” One with love. She blinked at her own words, wondering for the first time if she too hadn’t been sinking. Had she let go of God’s hope in that darkest hour only to drown in self-pity? Had Noah been trying to keep her afloat with his comments about hope until she reached for God? The thought stunned her, made her tingle.
Was this where she found joy when life assaulted her? By hanging tighter and finding that God reached down and hauled her out of the grasp of darkness?
She fought to keep her voice steady instead of betraying the tears filling her throat. “Noah told you about his past. That he’d been a Vice Lord. Did he tell you he also went to jail?”
Darrin shrugged.
“Then you know he could be doing hard time if God hadn’t grabbed his heart and changed his life. Now he’s got a purpose, happiness, goals, and—”
“You.” Darrin interjected.
Anne felt a blush press against her face. She nodded. “That’s right. He’s got me. God can do all that for you too, Darrin. But you have to trust Him. You have to let Him change you, from the inside out. That starts with forgiveness. Start at the bottom and let God raise you up.”
Let Him rescue you from the pit of despair and darkness.
A tear escaped, and she whisked it away. But Darrin wasn’t watching. “I really miss my dad. I keep hoping that . . . that . . . he’s in heaven.” Tears glistened on his face when he looked up, thick drops of grief that reminded her that this young man remained so much his father’s boy.
Anne took his hands in hers. “If he is, you can join him someday. And between now and then, you don’t have to live in grief and fear. You can live a good life with that hope in front of you. Turn your life over to Jesus, Darrin. Let Him forgive you and make you a new person.”
Darrin released her hands and scrubbed his face with his palms. “I’m not sure I can keep from running with the gangs.” His voice was muffled, as if not willing for her to hear his worst fears.
“You can. With God’s courage and strength, you can. I know that when you need Him the most, God will be there to rescue you.”
Her words hung in the room, sifted against the hiss of the oxygen being pumped into Darrin’s lungs. God had been there when they’d needed Him yesterday. And the day before . . . as far back as she could recall, every day of her life. Even the day she’d been shot, God had been there in the song and touch of a man she’d grown to love. He had been the
re as she’d dodged pranksters in school, as she’d struggled to finish her internship, as she’d fought for a new life.
“He’ll rescue you,” she repeated, this time to herself.
Darrin bit his lip. She didn’t comment on the tears streaming down his dark, desperate face. Then he nodded. “If Noah really was the person he says, then I want God to change me too.”
She had returned and made him hope again. Head in her arms, hair splayed out like a halo, his own rescuing angel.
Just in time.
He walked down the hall, his sterile prison, loathing the pinch of antiseptic, the telephone shrilling, death embedding the rose-papered walls.
His death.
But she’d returned, and if he stayed smart, ignored the sneers from the past, he’d be free. Finally. Dues paid.
A rush of desperation rattled through him, shaking out his muscles.
She held the key to his freedom.
He needed her.
Now.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Granny D.’s raspy voice, weary from her wee-morning activities preparing breakfast and packing bag lunches, deciphered Noah’s thoughts.
Noah crossed his arms over his chest and pushed back a wave of regret. Yes, he wanted to do this. Had to do this. Should have done it weeks ago. “Yes.”
He watched as Shelly lugged her duffel bag to the center of the compound and pushed it into the pile of ratty suitcases and army duffel bags. Her shoulders were bowed, and somehow the disappointment on her young face salved the ache in Noah’s chest. At least some of the kids were going to miss this place.
Stepping off the porch, he strode toward Bucko before his emotions could manhandle him. “You sure you can handle driving these kids home?”
Deep Haven [02] Tying the Knot Page 26