She handed over the little slip of paper.
A tract. Great, just what he needed. He forced a smile. “Thanks. Good luck with your trip.”
A beautiful smile crossed her lips to mesh with the peace written in her eyes. Eyes that reminded him of Anna even though this girl’s eyes were chocolate-brown and Anna’s were sky-blue.
“I don’t need luck,” she said. “I’ve got God.”
Well, since I don’t have God, I guess I’ll have to stick with luck.
Why that thought depressed him, he wasn’t sure, but instead of dwelling on it, he crossed to the car rental place to get in line. A dancing reindeer with a red nose greeted him as he approached the counter bobbing in time to “Jingle Bell Rock.” He shook his head. Not even Thanksgiving yet, and Christmas waved to him from every direction.
The trash can to his right caught his attention while the tract burned a hole in the palm of his hand. Curling his fingers around the paper, he started to slam-dunk it when, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a blue-jean-clad leg jiggling in time to the music in the girl’s head. She was still watching him. Instead of scoring a two-pointer, he slid the paper into the front pocket of his jacket. He’d toss it later when she wasn’t around. No use in hurting her feelings even if she was deluded into thinking God cared about anything she did.
Finally, keys in hand, he headed for his car, tugging his phone from the clip on his side as he walked, his other hand pulling his rolling suitcase along behind him. Anna’s and Ella’s things would be shipped to the hospital within the hour.
Frigid air greeted him as he stepped outside, nearly sucking every last drop of oxygen from his shocked lungs. He’d forgotten how cold it could get even in the South. Used to eighty-plus-degree weather year-round, the fifty-two degrees he was now shivering in seemed to make his blood freeze mid-flow.
Fingers trembling, he pressed the remote unlock for his compact little car and climbed in. The heater finally going full blast, he pulled out of the parking garage and stopped at the stop sign. Tapping his fingers on the wheel, he finally decided it was now or never to ask the question he’d been wondering for the past three years.
Pulling out his phone, he dialed his father’s number.
“Hello?” The voice sounded weaker, not quite containing the strength it had had three years ago.
“Hello, Father, it’s me, Lucas.”
Silence.
“Father?”
A throat clearing was his only clue that the line hadn’t been disconnected.
“Lucas. Well, I must say, son, you’ve taken me quite by surprise.” The voice was stronger now, although Lucas heard the shock in the words. “May I ask the purpose of your call?” The British accent had never faded from his father’s voice in all the time he’d been in the United States. The formal stiffness the man injected into his tone was enough to intimidate the most stalwart. Fortunately, Lucas was immune.
“Yes sir, I’ve had a question that’s been bothering me for the last three years or so, and I’ve finally decided to ask it.”
“Very well. What is it?” Typical. Straight to the point. No, how are you? Where’ve you been? What have you been doing with your life since you’ve been gone? Old hurt and new anger shot through him.
“Did you really mean it when you said it should have been me that died in the fire instead of Lance?”
TWO
Anna sat by the bedside of the sick boy, praying like she’d never prayed before. For Paulo, for herself, for Lucas. And for the strength to face her fear. She would not think about the past right now. Ella would be back in a few minutes. She’d taken a short break to run a few personal errands before ensconcing herself by Paulo’s side.
Reaching for the backpack Anna carried in lieu of a purse, she grabbed her Bible and turned to the verse that had become her mantra over the last four years. God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. She whispered the verse to herself, praying, God, I know the time has come to face the past, but I’ve got to be honest with You. I’m scared. Really, really scared…and I don’t want to be. Don’t let the fear handicap me. Could You please keep Your hand of protection on whatever it is I’m getting myself back into?
“Hey.”
She looked up to see Lucas standing in the door looking rumpled and wonderful, his reddish-blond hair windblown…or maybe it was messy from the number of times he’d shoved his fingers through it. No matter. He still looked good, safe, a comfort zone. She wondered what he’d do if she ran to him and threw her arms around him. Better not find out. Instead, she cleared her throat and asked, “Hey, yourself. Did you get your errand run?”
When his jaw started twitching, she figured that was the wrong question to ask.
“Something like that,” he muttered. “More like an overdue phone call.”
“Ah.” She refused to press. He’d tell her eventually; he always did. At least he used to. “What did Mark say?”
“He agrees we need to change two of Paulo’s meds. There are newer, more effective ones on the market now. I didn’t even know about them until two weeks ago.” He shook his head. “I’ve been out of touch too long.”
“Lucas, you can’t blame yourself. Paulo arrived on our doorstep as sick as any child I’ve ever seen. But he seemed perfectly healthy after recovering from that virus. There’s no way any of us could have known it affected his heart.”
“Mentally, I know that. I did the best I could. But still…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I can’t help wondering if I missed something, should have suggested bringing him to the U. S. sooner.”
“Brazil is so far behind in health care. If you hadn’t acted as you did, Paulo would be gone by now. Unfortunately, he’s a product of his country…and very, very blessed that you were there when he needed you.”
Lucas slipped an arm around her shoulders for a squeeze then let her go. “Thanks. You always know the right thing to say.”
Anna blinked. Not that she and Lucas hadn’t shared a friendly hug or two, but it always surprised her. He wasn’t normally the most demonstrative person. Growing up in a strict British household, he’d told her affectionate moments were few and far between.
“Sure,” she gulped. “You’re welcome.”
Lucas leaned over Paulo one more time while Anna stepped to the side, eyeing the phone on the nightstand by the bed. She took a deep breath, wondering if she should call Justin and just…check in. Let him know she was back in the States; get an update on de Chastelain. The old adage keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer ran through her mind.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Anna?”
Lucas’s insightful question startled her. Chewing her lip, she debated how much she could tell him. She could just shrug the question off, but found herself wanting him to know. Wanting to confide in him. Open up to him. Carrying her burden alone had become so tiresome.
