A Sheltering Heart

“Uh-oh,” murmured Joyce. She and Ned exchanged a knowing glance.

Fire erupted in Gwen’s belly. She raised her brows. “Excuse me?”

“This whole ‘public prayer’ thing makes us look like religious fanatics,” he said.

There was a challenge in his eyes that grated on her nerves. When it came to the faith that had saved her life, she didn’t cut any slack.

She dropped Joyce’s hand and moved in front of him. “Would you rather we slinked off to some dark corner to pray? Are you that ashamed of your faith?”

His eyebrows drew together. “I’m not ashamed. I just don’t like public prayer.”

“Because of what other people, people you don’t know or have any relationship with, will think?”

“I don’t think it’s a good witness to nonbelievers to appear like fanatics.”

She dropped her chin, remembering the way Claire and her aunt Denise had worn their faith out in the open and had taught Gwen the power of faith. She’d not understood at first. In fact, she’d thought the two women were out to lunch for sure. Slowly, with time and patience, they’d softened her heart.

Claire had done that not only for her, but for a myriad of other teens with her teen shelter. Teens like Tyler. He wasn’t Gwen’s brother but if she had to have one, she’d choose him. He started out rough and pure rebel, but now he’d made them all proud by graduating from college. Unlike Derek, Tyler would never shrink from showing his faith.

She struggled to contain her temper. “So it’s a better witness to hide our faith? Like we’re doing something wrong and shameful? That doesn’t make sense.” Shaking her head, she stepped away. “You can pray with us or not. Free will, that’s what it’s called.”

Retaking Joyce’s hand, she then reached over to take Ned’s, closing Derek out of the circle. “Craig, would you, please?”

Craig’s stunned expression cleared and he nodded. “Sure. Dear Father in heaven, we ask for a safe journey to our destination…”

Gwen tried to concentrate on the prayer and agreed with Craig’s softly spoken words in her heart, but she was too aware of Derek standing just a few feet behind her. His presence like a menacing cloud.

Dear Lord, she silently prayed, soften his heart.

How was she going to show him the true good that Hands of Healing International did if he couldn’t even demonstrate his faith in public?

Derek felt like an idiot as he stood alone outside the prayer circle. He hadn’t meant to make such a big deal about the prayer.

He’d never been comfortable with public worship. Maybe it was pride. Or that to him communing with God seemed such a personal thing, reserved for special occasions.

He didn’t get the whole God and man relationship jargon his father and mother preached. How could he have a relationship with Someone who wasn’t there, at least physically?

He’d read parts of the Bible, understood the basic fundamentals. The Ten Commandments sounded like a good idea. If everyone followed them, there’d sure be less crime and destruction in the world. He did get that God loved him, but he’d never felt that love. Not like his dad apparently did.

As he watched his four travel companions, their heads bowed and their hands linked, he suddenly had the strongest yearning to be included.

Strange, since he wasn’t much of a team player. He liked working and competing alone.

But he’d signed on to be a part of this team. Time to act like a team player and honor the bond started the night before.

He forced himself not to glance around to see how the general populace was reacting to his companions’ public display. Moving to stand between Gwen and Ned, he slipped his hands between theirs.

Gwen’s delicate hand fit perfectly against his palm.

A little too perfectly for comfort.

She started, her amber gaze surprised, then pleased. Ned winked at him before returning to a humble posture of prayer. Derek closed his eyes and let the rest of Craig’s prayer wash over him.

“…we ask for guidance and wisdom as we work together as a team to provide care to those in need. We thank You for this opportunity, Lord. In Jesus’s name, amen.”

“Amen,” Derek murmured.

Gwen squeezed his hand before abruptly letting go. A warmth spread through him. Oh, boy, he would be in trouble if her approval started to mean something to him.

No way was he letting himself go down that treacherous path. Approval was one step away from commitment. He never wanted to be in a position where he could disappoint anyone.

From now on, keeping his distance from the pretty redhead was priority number one.

Derek decided to walk off the sudden buzz of energy making his muscles ache. He needed another hard run. He wasn’t looking forward to being cooped up on a second long flight.

“Mind if I walk with you?” Craig asked as he fell into step with Derek.

“Not at all.” They walked at a steady pace down the concourse. “How many trips have you been on now?”

“This is my first with Hands of Healing. I spent the summer between high school and college in Mexico building houses with another organization.”

“Then you and I will both get to see what this is all about.”

Craig nodded. “I was looking forward to learning from your father.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Disappointment was a bitter pill he’d long ago learned to swallow when it came to his father.

“But Joyce says Gwen’s great and will have everything running smoothly.”

“No doubt.” He glanced back toward where Gwen and the others were seated.

Gwen struck him as super-detailed and organized. More than just her hair was braided tight. But he liked that she didn’t need gobs of makeup or flashy jewelry to draw attention to herself. She had a natural beauty that the touch of lip gloss she wore complimented rather than distracted from, as it seemed to on other women.

Craig stopped to admire a flashy BMW coupe on display in the middle of the terminal. He whistled through his teeth as he inspected the sticker on the window. “These things are steep.”

Derek nodded, thinking about his own little sports car at home sitting securely in his garage. He’d bought the car with the money from his first endorsement check. He’d been so anxious to show it off to his father.

Dad had admired the car and congratulated him, but had declined a spin in the fancy ride because, as always, he had to get back to the clinic.

Always the clinic.

Derek had spent his whole life competing against the clinic for his dad’s attention. Maturity had taught him he would never win that race. Now, as CEO of Hands of Healing International, Derek hoped to share a common bond with his dad.

An overhead speaker announced that their flight would soon be boarding. They rejoined their group, boarded the plane and soon were taxiing down the runway. Derek settled back in his first-class seat, mentally preparing himself for the long journey ahead and for dealing with Gwen’s distracting presence.

The plane touched down without a hitch on the tarmac of Entebbe airport in Uganda. The darkness of night kept Derek from seeing much outside the windows of the plane as he stood, his muscles waking up from the long period of inactivity, and moved toward the staircase.

This would be his first time on the continent of Africa. He’d traveled most of Europe, the Caribbean, North and South America, and parts of Asia. He looked forward to this experience.

The minute he stepped out on the landing a chill swept through him. He remembered someone saying the nights were cold and the days hot. At the moment he’d have welcomed the sun.

Walking down the portable stairs he tried to adjust to the strange scent of Africa: diesel, dirt and something unfamiliar. The heaviness in the air put pressure on his lungs. Drawing in a complete breath proved difficult. He could only hope that once away from the city the air would be fresh, less constricting.

He stepped onto the tarmac and moved aside to wait for the others. They trickled off the plane, looking tired and moving slowly.

Only Gwen seemed to have any energy. “We all here?”

Wondering where she stored such perkiness, Derek nodded. “What now?”

“This way.”

She glided across the tarmac, the others trailing along behind her, toward the building Derek assumed was the terminal. He ruefully shook his head. Looked as if Gwen was taking charge now. Just as long as she didn’t try to take charge of him.

The end of the building that faced the tarmac had a huge roll-up door that stood open to reveal the stark tile-and-concrete interior. Before entering the building they had to stop at the tall tables manned by uniformed airport personnel.

After presenting their paperwork and having their passports stamped, they were permitted to enter. Derek noticed several armed military men patrolling the perimeter of the building. He wasn’t sure if he felt secure or threatened by the show of force.

Up ahead, Gwen conversed with an African man roughly her own height, dressed in a bright yellow shirt and tan slacks. His smooth skin betrayed no hint of age. However, the concern on his face mirrored the expressions on Joyce’s, Ned’s and Craig’s faces.

“I’m not worried about that,” Gwen said, though her brow furrowed slightly.

“I want to make sure you are aware of the situation,” the African responded, his accented voice flowing evenly.

“Guys?” Gwen’s question included them all.

“What did I miss?” Derek asked.

Gwen turned to him. “This is Moses, our contact with Family in Crisis. Moses, this is Derek Harper.”

Derek held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Moses’s grip was strong. “Welcome. We are sad to hear that your father hurt himself.”

“He was explaining that the Kony Rebels have moved into the province of Moswani. They want to liberate it from the Ugandan government,” Gwen explained.

That didn’t sound good. “Which means…?”

“It means we have to be careful and stick close to the clinic. War is a part of life in Africa. So, I say we go on with our mission and trust that God will protect us.”

“I don’t plan on getting on another plane for two weeks,” Joyce commented with a bit of defiance in her tone.

“We stay. We’re needed,” came Ned’s reply.

Craig shrugged. “I’m game.”

Derek didn’t know how this new development would affect his agenda, but if the others were staying… “I’m in.”

Gwen gave a short nod. “All right, then.”

“Come, we gather your bags.” Moses led the way to the baggage claim area where they met up with another African.

“Hey, Ethan.” Ned shook the newcomer’s hand.

“Glad to see you back in my country.” Ethan’s deep baritone voice reverberated through the group.

Derek was introduced and immediately liked Ethan. There was something soothing about the man’s demeanor. Though not as tall as Moses, Ethan had a commanding presence.

His dark hands were crisscrossed with small scars and one jagged scar slashed over his neck and disappeared into the collar of his shirt. Derek couldn’t begin to imagine how different these men’s lives were from his own.

They all helped to load the bags of supplies they’d shipped into the back of a dusty white minivan before piling inside. It was a tight fit and not everyone had a seat belt.

Derek squeezed by the window in the back with Craig and Ned beside him. Gwen sat directly in front of him. Her long braid hung over the back of her seat.

She pointed toward a building they were passing that he could barely make out. “That’s the original airport. The site of the raid on Entebbe in ’76.”

All he could think to say was “Ah.”

He’d been a kid when the hijacking occurred. He remembered being thankful his father had been home and not off trying to save the world that fall. The coverage on TV had seemed overwhelming at the time.

The minivan soon left the airport behind. Driving on what seemed to be the wrong side of the road, they drove through Kampala, the capital of Uganda. There was a noticeable lack of streetlights on the still-active streets. Tall buildings rose to obscure the skyline.

Once out of the city, the darkness closed in. The headlights showed little of the countryside. They bumped along on uneven pavement, stopped at the checkpoints where armed guards inspected Moses’s papers and flashed bright lights into the van. They were waved on.

Eventually the pavement turned into a dirt road that they traveled down for several hours before stopping in front of a dark squat structure, unlit and forbidding.

They climbed out. Dust rose, choking in swirling gusts as the group moved about unloading the van. Derek looked around. Not much to see at night. The outline of trees and in the distance other dark structures.

The air was still heavy but the smell of diesel had lessened, accentuating the strange smell he’d noticed earlier. Joyce hadn’t been kidding when she’d said the hostel was a palace compared to here.

“What is that smell?” Derek whispered to Craig.

“Probably charcoal.”

“Charcoal?”

“It’s the fuel they use to cook with,” Craig replied.

Derek took in the sight of the destination. There were no streetlights or even a porch light offering welcome.

He followed the others inside, which was no better than the outside. A few bare bulbs dimly lit the interior. The front door opened to a big room. The concrete floor and walls made him feel boxed in.

“This way.” Ned nudged him forward as he passed by carrying a heavy-duty flashlight.

Derek followed down a narrow, unlit hallway. They turned right into an enormous room with several bunk beds. Ned deposited his pack on the mattress of the nearest bottom bunk.

“Take your pick,” he said with a tired grin.

Derek put his stuff on a nearby bottom mattress and realized with dread that the mattress was really just a chunk of foam. Good thing he liked to camp.

“Restroom?” he asked Ned just as Craig walked in.

The other two men exchanged a glance and then chuckled softly.

Craig threw his pack on the top bunk over Ned. “Come on. I’ll show you out back. The outhouse is not as deluxe as the typical portable restroom.”

“Great,” Derek said without enthusiasm. He followed Craig back down the hall and outside. Gwen was talking with Ethan and Moses. When she saw him, she came over.

“You okay?” she asked, worry softening her gaze.

“Dandy,” he muttered, uncomfortable with the way her concern warmed him.

She laughed. “You’ll do fine. I’ll see you in the morning. That’s when the real fun begins.”

He reached out to finger her silky braid. “How on earth can you be so chipper?”

“Working on adrenaline here.”

“I didn’t realize it would be so…rustic.”

She gave him a soft smile. “This is paradise compared to some of the places I’ve been.”

His brows drew together in confusion. “What?”

Reaching up to remove his hand, she said, “Good night.”

He watched her walk inside. At times she seemed so buttoned-up and reserved. Yet, he’d seen glimpses of a softer side. A side that told him she was a woman with a great capacity to love.

A very interesting woman. He reminded himself he didn’t want to be interested.

Chapter Four

Gwen woke as the first rooster crowed. Through the small, square window in the room the sun was barely visible on the horizon. She heard movement in the building, the others already working. There was so much preparation to do before the villagers began to arrive.

She’d planned on waking earlier, but since she hadn’t been able to rest on the flight, she’d fallen into an exhausted, deep sleep as soon as she’d hit the foam mattress.

She blamed Derek for her inability to relax on the flight from the UK. Every time she’d close her eyes and start to doze off, she’d jerk awake expecting to find Derek standing in the aisle watching her again.

And every time she experienced a burst of disappointment when he wasn’t there.

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