When their family had been killed almost three years ago, he and his sister, Carlita, had lived on the streets before arriving on the doorstep of the orphanage about four months ago. Salvador had explained that he had trouble finding work that would allow him to bring Carlita along. There was no one he could leave her with, so they’d lived on what they could rummage, beg and steal. Only now he needed to leave her so he could find a way to provide for her. They couldn’t live on the streets indefinitely.
Had the orphanage not provided him a job, he would have had to leave his only remaining family member behind. Anna had taken pity on the siblings, believing that being separated from Salvador would do Carlita further psychological damage. So, Salvador stayed and worked, cared for his sister and seemed to form a special attachment to Juan who had taken the young man under his wing.
When Juan asked about the siblings, concerned about their health, she told him, “Salvador and Carlita escaped the illness and everyone else is recovering nicely. Dr. Bennett did an outstanding job setting up the temporary hospital. Everyone has worked tirelessly, rotating just for sleeping and eating, so all the hard work and dedication is finally paying off, thank goodness. You’re getting better.”
Salvador’s obvious anxiety about Juan’s recuperation had him constantly at Juan’s side. His continued insistence on exposing himself to illness exasperated her. “Salvador, you need to get out of here,” she’d said.
“Is he going to die?”
“He’ll be fine, it’s just going to take a little while for his body to heal.”
And Salvador would leave, only to return later in the day to ask, “Is he going to die?” Amy would assure him that Juan was not going to die. She finally left the young man alone. If he got sick, he got sick. He was already exposed, so it was really too late to worry about it now.
Now, almost everyone was on the road to recovery allowing her a little time to herself. She folded the last towel and placed it in the linen closet. Sharing a bathroom with three other relief workers wasn’t exactly on her list of favorite things to do, but she was adjusting. For the first time in her life, she felt she was doing something that really mattered, something that was going to last longer than herself. She was making a difference.
Thank You, God. Keep using me, please. Thank You for allowing me to be here. You know how important it is for me to do this. I know I can never truly make right all the wrongs my mother’s done, especially for the McKnight family. Because of her, Micah’s dead. God, I feel so guilty, yet I know it’s not my fault. I’m not the one who betrayed him, set him up to die, but it still hurts. So, thank You again for this opportunity to help. To make a difference, even if it is for just one person.
Immediately her thoughts went to Juan. She’d wondered what color his eyes were. When he’d opened them, she’d been stunned. His eyes were a blue-gray that seemed to see right into her very soul. They seemed so familiar, as if she should remember seeing those eyes somewhere before. Finally, she decided that it wasn’t necessarily the color of his eyes, but the man behind them.
Stubborn as a mule, he continued to insist that he was strong enough to try to get up. Each time she told him no. Each time, he insisted on trying. So, lips tight, she would sponge the sweat from his face and glare at him as he worked to get up. Although, lately, she had to admit that the last couple of times he’d gotten up, he’d actually stayed up awhile. Definitely an improvement.
A knock sounded on her door. “Come on in.”
Anna stuck her head in. “Good morning.”
Pulling her hair up into her functional ponytail, she mumbled around the rubber band she’d stuck in her mouth, “Morning. What brings you here so bright and early?”
“We had a new kid show up on our doorstep this morning.”
Sadness shifted through her. She pulled the band from her mouth and wrapped it around the mass she held. “Oh. What happened this time?”
“I’m not sure.” Anna planted herself on the bed. “He’s not saying a whole lot. Just that his father died a couple of years ago and he has no other family. His name is Jonathas and he’s seventeen years old. He’s asking for a place to stay until he can find some work. I told him the rules, and he agreed to abide by them.”
“Does he like construction? We could use some more workers to help with our new wing.” Amy realized with a start she was using words such as we and our in conjunction with the orphanage. In such a short time, she already felt she belonged.
Anna’s eye’s brightened. “That’s true. I’ll ask him. Thanks for thinking of it.”
“Not a problem.”
Anna wiggled her eyebrows. “I have another reason for being here. He came looking for you.”
“Who?” Amy asked, tongue in cheek. She knew exactly who he was.
“You know who.”
“I’ll be sure to find him shortly,” she promised, turning away to hide the blush creeping up her neck. But still, tenderness filled Amy. Over the last few weeks, she’d come to care for the quiet, sometimes angry man—in spite of the fact that he drove her crazy with his stubborn independence.
“I told him you would be looking forward to having lunch with him.”
“Anna!” Amy was fiery red at this point. She tossed the towel at her friend, smacking her in the face with it. Then the two women burst out laughing. It felt good. Thank you, Lord, for laughter and friends in unexpected places.
Juan gripped the twenty-pound weight in his left arm, the weaker of the two, and hefted. Sweat dripped, his elbow dug into the thigh muscle right above his knee and he groaned. But he curled his arm up for a final count of twenty-five. He huffed, letting his arm drop. The weight clanked to the mat.
“Good job, there.”
Juan looked up to see Lucas watching him with a concerned expression. “Hey,” he grunted.
“You’re pushing it a bit, aren’t you?” Lucas asked.
Juan sucked in a deep breath. “Yep. Have to.” In the weight room, off the now-empty gymnasium, he gave it his all, determined to regain his strength—again. The room had only been finished a week before the illness had started. The window stood open behind him, pulling out the smell of fresh wood and paint, replacing it with the muggy, humid air of the jungle. With his right hand, he massaged his quivering left bicep. “I can’t let a little virus set me back on all the progress I’ve made.”
“If you’re not careful, you’re going to pull or rupture something and undo all my hard work.” Lucas’s tone was dry, sarcastic.
Juan felt his laughter spurt in spite of himself. “Your hard work?”
Lucas strolled over to sit beside him on the bench. “Yeah, man. I didn’t save your hide just to let you kill yourself, you know.”
Juan felt the smile pulling the corner of his mouth. During the past year, the only thing that had kept him sane had been Lucas’s dry sense of humor and sarcastic wit. He grabbed a scratchy towel and dried his face. “You know, I’ve never asked, and you’ve never said, but why did you fight so hard to save me? Anna told me how you sacrificed, gave up sleep, sometimes food, to spend hours trying to wake me up. Doing what
