“Derek’s here to learn all the different aspects of the clinic’s mission and duties. I think starting here would be beneficial for him,” Gwen told Mya, the cook, before turning her gaze to Derek, prepared to see anger or disbelief in his expression.

Instead, amusement danced in his green eyes. Gwen blinked as confusion scattered her train of thought. Giving herself a mental shake, she said, “Each team member takes a turn helping in the kitchen. We feed not only ourselves but the whole village when we are here.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “So, Mya, how can I help?”

Gwen watched the intense way Derek listened and asked questions as Mya explained the process of feeding an entire village of people. Pleasure swelled in her chest. He really was interested in what they were doing. That was good. Really good.

Showing him the importance of the work would be that much easier.

And keeping a professional attitude toward him that much harder.

TERRI REED

grew up in a small town nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. To entertain herself, she created stories in her head and when she put those stories to paper, her teachers in grade school, high school and college encouraged her imagination. Living in Italy as an exchange student whetted her appetite for travel, and modeling in New York, Chicago and San Francisco gave her a love for the big city, as well. From a young age she attended church but it wasn’t until her thirties that she really understood the meaning of a faith-filled life. Now living in Portland, Oregon, with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children, a rambunctious Australian shepherd and an array of other critters, she feels blessed to be able to share her stories and her faith with the world. She loves to hear from readers at P.O. Box 19555, Portland, OR 97280.

A Sheltering Heart
Terri Reed

He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said,

“From his innermost being shall flow rivers of living water.”

—John 7:38

For my children. Thank you for teaching me how to be a mother and for blessing me with unconditional love. Leah and Lissa, as always, you rock!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Gwen Yates checked the brown leather-banded watch on her wrist. Again. “Where are they?”

Okay, so it had only been all of thirty seconds since the last time she checked but still…where were her boss and his son? The group’s flight would leave in less than twenty minutes and they all still had to get through security.

Her gaze scanned the crowded, sun-drenched Seattle airport terminal, searching through the throng of travelers for Dr. Ross Harper’s distinctive white hair and towering frame.

“Probably stuck in traffic,” offered Gwen’s colleague, Joyce Kincaid.

The tall, athletic woman stood guard over her duffel bag and leaned against the wall of windows separating the foot traffic and the gift shop of SeaTac Airport. Joyce’s short brown hair stuck out in tufts from beneath the brim of a khaki-green hat. She held a medical journal on childhood diseases.

Gwen admired Joyce’s dedication in keeping abreast of changes in her field of pediatrics. Though Joyce had ten years on Gwen, they shared a bond of determination to be the best they could be in each of their chosen fields.

Ned Leeds, another colleague, nodded his balding head. “Monday morning. Slow commute.”

His distinct abrupt way of communicating never failed to astound Gwen, even though his estimate was more than accurate for the Seattle traffic. The short, forty-something surgeon had made it clear in the beginning of her tenure at Harper Clinic that he didn’t waste his breath on trivial conversation. In the three years since Gwen had joined their clinic’s staff as a physician’s assistant, she had yet to hear the man say more than a four-word sentence.

Gwen turned her gaze back toward the ticket area. Dr. Harper would have allowed time for traffic. Something wasn’t right. She toyed with the boarding pass in her hand. “Hey, Craig, do you have your cell on you?”

The fourth member of their team sat on the floor with his back against the wall. Craig Samuels, a twenty-five-year-old intern at Harper Clinic, reached into the outside pouch of the backpack sitting beside him and pulled out a small black flip phone. “Hit number three to auto-dial the doc’s cell.”

As Gwen flipped the phone open, the gate agent announced their flight to London would board soon. Her stomach contracted with anxiety. Where was Dr. Harper? Usually, her boss was prompt and expected others to follow suit.

She listened to the phone ringing. He was probably late because of his son, Derek, the unexpected add-on to this trip.

Gwen didn’t agree with her boss that the new CEO of Dr. Harper’s brainchild, Hands of Healing International, should join the team on this particular mission. Son of the founder notwithstanding, the man hadn’t even been in his position for more than six months and had failed to show up on time to the training classes to boot.

Gwen had received the disturbing impression that Derek was only biding his time, trying to please his father, until something bigger and better came along.

Gwen’s limited dealings with Derek, Dr. Harper’s only child, had left an indelible impression. There was a recklessness to him that was disturbing, and she didn’t like his intense way of looking at her as if she were some unexplainable virus strain that needed to be studied.

Not to mention the undercurrent of competition that charged the air whenever he was present. She had no clue what prize he wanted, but she’d decided not long after he’d come aboard that minimal contact was the best option.

“Harper.”

The deep male voice rattled Gwen from her thoughts.

Derek.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Just pulling up. There was an accident on I-5.”

Thankful Dr. Harper and his son weren’t the ones in the accident, she let out a relieved breath. “We’re waiting at the security checkpoint.”

“See you in a few.” The phone went dead.

Gwen snapped the small handheld phone closed and handed it back to Craig. “They’re on their way.”

Joyce pushed off from the wall and snagged her duffel bag by the strap. “Let’s get in line.”

The rest of the group picked up their bags and moved to the end of the long line of people waiting to enter the roped-off area for the security check.

Craig tried to reassure Gwen. “No need to worry. They’ll make it.”

Gwen nodded and followed the others to the line, her own backpack gripped in one hand. Their carry-on luggage held their personal items while the baggage they’d all checked would transport the medical supplies they’d need in Africa.

Her anxiety eased a bit as she stood at the end of the security line. She knew what to expect on her third trip as part of Hands of Healing International.

On the long flight to London she planned to rest, listen to a variety of music on her iPod and sleep with the help of an eye mask and a squishy pillow she’d tucked into her backpack.

After a twenty-hour layover in London they’d board another plane, then land in Kampala, Uganda, and from there they’d take a transport to the small province of Moswani, located at the southwestern corner of Uganda, bordering Rwanda.

This trip would be unusual in several ways, most importantly because Derek Harper was coming to shadow his father and learn firsthand the administrative needs of the ministry his father had started sixteen years earlier.

She looked forward to proving to Dr. Harper that she was ready to lead her own team on a Hands of Healing mission as they’d discussed several times over the last few months. Dr. Harper had indicated that this trip would be Gwen’s time to be in charge of the medical personnel while Dr. Harper showed his son the meaningfulness of the work.

Gwen was grateful her dealings with Derek would be minimal. He made her uncomfortable, not in a sleazy way, but in a strange, unfamiliar way that left her feeling vulnerable and self-conscious. She didn’t like the feelings at all.

“Harper.”

Ned’s low warning in Gwen’s right ear invaded her space and made her quickly step back. For a breathless moment she rocked off balance onto the heels of her tennis shoes.

But then a big, strong hand grasped her elbow, pushed her slightly forward, back on to firm footing, holding her until her world steadied. She quickly extracted her elbow from the strong grip.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she turned her gaze to her rescuer and met vivid green eyes.

Tall, blond and amused, Derek Harper cocked a tawny brow at her. “Too much coffee?”

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth for half a second before she regained her composure. “I don’t drink coffee.”

“Ah. Maybe you should.” He turned his attention to the others. “Good morning all. I guess we’re really going to do this.”

Joyce smiled. “So glad to have you along, Derek.”

Gwen stared at the slightly interested gleam in Joyce’s blue gaze. Surely Joyce wasn’t falling victim to Derek’s surfer, beach-bum good looks.

Gwen gave a mental shrug. She certainly didn’t care if Joyce set her sights on Derek. Romantic relationships were the last thing on Gwen’s mind. They were too unpredictable and too easy to lose control of.

As Derek shook hands with Craig and then Ned, Gwen asked, “Where’s your father?”

“He and Mother are coming.”

Gwen raised her brows. “Your mother’s coming on the trip?” That was also new and unusual.

From what Gwen had gathered over the years, Sally Harper didn’t travel—something about a fear of flying—even though she supported her husband’s vision of spreading God’s word through providing medical services to those in need.

Derek’s gaze bored into her. The quick negative shake of his head left her bewildered. In the past, Mrs. Harper said her goodbyes at home.

Gwen rationalized that since both son and father were traveling on this trip that Mrs. Harper had decided to see them off. Not so unusual in the grand scheme of things, she supposed. Gwen really liked her boss’s unassuming and soft-spoken wife.

A small gasp from Joyce alerted Gwen’s sense of unease. The little hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

“Here they are,” Derek said and moved aside so they could be joined by Dr. and Mrs. Harper.

Gwen echoed Joyce’s gasp and shock skipped up her spine to settle in a pounding beat behind her eyes. She blinked. But what she saw in front of her didn’t change.

Dr. Harper sat in a wheelchair. The left pant leg of his dark cotton slacks had been cut away from the knee to the toes, exposing a hard white cast. His wife, looking tired, pushed the wheelchair. She was dressed in a comfortable knit two-piece suit in a demure green that brought out the color in her green eyes. Her blond hair was pulled back in a cropped ponytail.

“What…what happened?” Gwen ducked under the rope and moved to Dr. Harper’s side.

Dr. Harper gave a rueful laugh. “Tripped over the dog in the middle of the night and fell down the stairs.”

“Nearly gave us a heart attack,” Sally piped up, placing her hand on his shoulder in a gesture of affection.

“Did you break a bone? Is it serious?”

“A hairline fraction of the tibia. I’m fine. It’ll heal in no time.”

“So you’re okay to travel, right?” Gwen asked, her gaze searching Ross Harper’s lined face.

He shook his head. Regret shone bright in his eyes. “No. Which is why I needed to talk with you all before you leave.”

Gwen’s gut clenched. The situation was spinning out of control. She detested not being prepared for change. She liked life to be predictable and orderly. Though medicine was a practice, procedures and step-by-step instructions kept the unexpected in check. “We should postpone the trip.”

Dr. Harper took Gwen’s hand, the warmth and assurance in his touch calming. “You all still need to go. Family in Crisis is expecting you.”

Their partner organization in Africa had spent money, time and effort in bringing medical personnel to the undeveloped region of Moswani. Hands of Healing had made a commitment. Gwen understood that they had to keep that commitment. She returned to her place in line.

Her mind whirled with the implications of Dr. Harper not joining them. Would she be in charge? Would she be expected to take on the role of administrator, as well? Did Dr. Harper have that much faith in her?

She sent up a silent prayer of thanks to God for the opportunity He’d presented her. She’d make sure not to disappoint Dr. Harper’s trust.

Dr. Harper quickly talked to the group, telling them they would be fine without him because they’d all been on similar missions before and he had no doubts that they’d do splendidly. They could expect a great deal of help from Family in Crisis. He appointed Gwen lead medical personnel.

Even though Gwen knew it was more out of necessity than confidence in her ability—she didn’t have a specialty the way Joyce or Ned did and Craig was too inexperienced—she was pleased.

“So, Derek, this should be an adventure for you,” Craig stated with a wide grin.

Gwen’s gaze jumped to Derek’s. For a fraction of a second she could have sworn she saw hesitation in his eyes before he nodded.

“Yes, and any help you can give me will be appreciated.”

“You stick close, I’ll show you the ropes,” Joyce practically purred.

Gwen frowned. What role would Mister CEO play if his father wasn’t coming to keep him occupied?

They moved collectively forward, inching closer to the no-return zone. Gwen’s palms began to sweat. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Dr. Harper should be leading the way.

“Can we say a prayer?” she asked, needing strength and clarity.

Dr. Harper gave her a pleased smile. Across the security ropes the team members joined hands. Gwen held her hand out to Derek. With a slight frown and quick glance around, he slipped his hand around hers. Dr. Harper intoned a prayer for a safe and successful journey.

“Uh, hmm.” The security attendance cleared his throat, signaling they were next to pass through. Dropping hands, they each showed their IDs and tickets.

“Here we go. See you, Doc,” Ned said as he stepped up to the security post, deposited his bag on the conveyor belt for screening. He stepped through the metal detector and went to collect his bag. Craig and Joyce followed Ned. They cleared security and headed for the gate.

“Bye, Doc,” Joyce said with a wave. “See you in two weeks.”

Gwen stood by, allowing others to go through, as Derek hugged his parents. Derek hefted his big black satchel over his shoulder and slipped under the rope. “Coming, Gwen?”

Dr. Harper waved off his son. “You go ahead. I need a word with her first.”

“Okay.” To Gwen, he said, “See you on the other side.”

“Gwen, I need a huge favor,” Dr. Harper said as soon as his son was through the metal detector and fading into the crowd.

“Anything.”

There were very few people in her life she respected or trusted as much as her boss. Under his tutelage she was learning about medicine as well as life. He was a man who lived his faith.

“I need…we need…” He paused and took his wife’s hand. “We need you to show Derek what the true purpose of Hands of Healing is—that we heal more than just bodies on these trips. Through Jesus’s love, we heal hearts, as well.”

Wishing she could sit down, Gwen shifted her feet as the weight of Dr. Harper’s request pressed on her shoulders. “Wow. That’s a big order, Doc.”

“I know and I’m sorry for that.” His lined face showed his concern. “This isn’t the way I envisioned Derek’s first trip.”

“Sometimes God’s plan is better,” Sally stated softly.

A sinking feeling descended in Gwen’s stomach. Looked as if she was going to be spending a lot more time with Derek than she’d first thought. “I can only promise that I’ll try.”

Dr. Harper squeezed her hand. “That’s all we can ask.”

With a wan smile, she said goodbye and went to join her team.

Derek Harper stood and stretched his legs, thankful he’d paid to upgrade his coach ticket to first class. He couldn’t imagine cramming his six-foot-two-inch frame in a coach seat for an eight-hour transatlantic flight.

Walking down the aisle into the coach section, he noted that the others didn’t seem to mind the less comfortable accommodations of coach. Whatever.

Craig was reclined against the bulkhead with headphones on and his lips moving to the music of his portable CD player. Joyce was farther back on an aisle seat with her nose buried in the book he’d seen her reading earlier. And Ned sat in the far back and looked to be flirting with the flight attendant who was busy getting the refreshments ready.

He thought it curious they didn’t sit by each other. But then again, knowing they’d all be living closely together for the next two weeks, a little space on the flight probably was a good idea.

Not that he would be staying at the camp for the full two weeks. He had a marathon to win.

He was disappointed his father wouldn’t be there to greet him at the finish line as they’d talked about. Part of his father’s argument for Derek coming on this mission trip was that Derek could enter the elite African marathon scheduled for next week and his dad would be there to see it. Having his father watching and cheering him on always boosted his drive to win.

Without his father’s presence in the camp, though, he’d be able to slip away to train more often than he’d anticipated, which could increase his odds of winning.

Providing the redhead his father had put in charge didn’t have a problem with Derek taking off, that is. Though he doubted she would. He was only going to be in the way, considering he had no idea what to expect or how he’d be able to help. He was a businessman, not a doctor, after all. This was supposed to be an opportunity to stand back and observe—learn what he’d be administrating.

But playing along and doing what he could would go a long way to cementing the bond with his father.

Derek stopped at the aisle where Gwen reclined against the window, her head resting on a bright yellow pillow and her long red braid dangling over her shoulder. Her pale, freckled face was relaxed and her dark lashes rested alluringly against her cheek.

He wasn’t sure what to make of the woman. The few times he’d encountered her at the clinic she’d been all business.

Suddenly she opened her eyes and focused her unblinking amber gaze on him. He had the feeling she didn’t let down her guard even in sleep. He smiled. She didn’t.

Time to retreat, because he didn’t want to upset the balance of things just yet. He had a strong suspicion that his plans for finagling extra training time were going to take all his charm to keep the boss lady from interfering.

Gwen disembarked from the plane at Heathrow Airport in England with the other weary passengers. As accommodating as the airline was, she welcomed the relief of standing and walking. Her mouth felt as if she’d swallowed cotton. Long flights always depleted the moisture from her body. The flight, thankfully, had been uneventful and surprisingly restful. She’d managed to sleep for part of the way.

The only unsettling event had been when she’d found Derek standing in the aisle watching her sleep. He’d just smiled before returning to his own seat in first class. She didn’t know what to think about him or his strange behavior.

She’d been a bit miffed at first when he’d stated he didn’t “do” coach. But after thinking the situation through she realized the coach seating would be uncomfortable for someone so tall.

Plus she knew from various overheard snatches of conversations of the staff—hard to not overhear in such a small, contained atmosphere—that Derek was a successful world-class runner.

She shuffled out of the Jetway and spotted her team waiting by a large pillar.

Her team. She liked the sound of that.

She didn’t feel she’d proven herself to Dr. Harper well enough yet, but he must have some confidence that she could handle the mission, which really felt good.

As she approached the group she heard Joyce say, “I’m so glad we have this layover. Usually, we have to rush from one flight to another.”

“Hey, Gwen, where are we staying tonight?” asked Craig. He looked rumpled and in need of a shave.

“We’re booked at The Lodge hostel near Paddington Station. It’s a short Tube ride.”

“Oh, goody. The tube,” Ned said dryly.

Gwen knew the surgeon wasn’t fond of the London subway any more than he was of the New York one. He’d grown up in a borough of New York City but had moved to the Pacific Northwest to get away from the urban life.

Derek frowned. “You mean we’re staying at a hotel, right?”

Gwen adjusted the strap on her shoulder. “No. A hostel.”

He arched a brow. “Aren’t hostels like boarding houses?”

“Yes,” Gwen replied as she started walking down the concourse. The others fell into step with her.

“Believe me, the hostel we’re staying at is a palace compared to the accommodations we’ll have in Moswani,” Joyce commented.

Gwen noticed the brief hesitation in Derek’s eyes.

“Where do we stay?” he asked.

“If you’d made the meetings you’d know we’re staying in an abandoned hospital,” Gwen said over her shoulder.

“Point taken.”

She slowed and glanced at him to see if her censure had offended him.

He shrugged, clearly not offended. “This will be an adventure I’m sure to remember.”

For some reason his dismissive attitude grated on Gwen’s nerves. She reminded herself of his father’s wish for Derek to see the part of their mission that went beyond just the obvious. “This isn’t a vacation. We’ll be doing a great deal of good for the people of Moswani. They are the ones to remember.”

Derek gave her a “what’s your problem” look. “Good to know.”

“Don’t mind her. She’s all work and no play,” Joyce said with a teasing lilt to her voice.

A good dose of irritation shot through Gwen’s veins. Just because she took life seriously didn’t mean she didn’t know how to relax and have fun. She’d enjoyed swimming in the ocean the few times she had gone to the coast along the Oregon and Washington border.

She liked to go to concerts and hear jazz or Christian artists. She’d gone to every one of her friend Tyler’s basketball games. Though she had to have the game explained to her. But still, she’d had fun.

Only, looking into Derek’s amused eyes, she realized their concept of relaxing fun would be vastly different. He’d be off running himself to the max. Or out partying. She’d heard from the nurses that he did the nightclub scene in Seattle.

So what did it matter if they didn’t share mutual downtime pursuits? What mattered was the work they’d be doing in Africa. Not filling his adventure scrapbook.

One more hurdle to cross to fulfilling her promise.

Chapter Two

Gwen picked up her pace, wanting a breather from her companions. The concourse seemed a mile long and lined with more shops that any airport she’d ever been in. The typical tourist-type stores with hats and T-shirts blazing with the red, white and blue flag of Britain. Stores selling designer clothes, which no doubt cost more than Gwen made in a year.

Coming into the main terminal, she headed for the Tube station, since their baggage was checked all the way through to Uganda and would be there when they arrived. Unlike the subway of New York, the station was shiny silver with the longest escalator she’d ever seen.

They boarded the Tube. The eclectic assortment of passengers showed little interest in the Americans boarding.

Joyce, Craig and Ned took a row of seats beside a sullen teenage boy dressed in black. Gwen chose to stand and Derek halted next to her, his big hand wrapping around the overhead bar just millimeters from her own.

The Tube shot forward. Gwen braced her feet apart to keep her balance. Outside the window the dimly lit walls of the tunnels whooshed by in a blur. Gwen turned her gaze away because she’d learned the last time she rode on the Tube that watching out the window made her motion sickness kick in.

Derek captured her gaze and smiled. “So is that true?”

“What?” Gwen tried not to let his nearness and the killer smile have an effect on her. She told herself it was the excitement of the trip that sent her pulse pounding.

“That you’re all work and no play?”

She lifted a corner of her mouth in a self-effacing smile. Now that she’d calmed down after Joyce’s announcement, she decided she’d rather be a hard worker than a flake. “I suppose.”

“What do you like to do for fun?” he asked, his green eyes alight with interest.

She shrugged. “Stuff.”

“Like what?”

She thought about the question for a moment. “I like to walk on the beach. I read. I bike. Normal stuff.”

“That’s good. Are you a road bike or mountain bike person?”

She thought of the shiny blue metallic bike that Claire and Nick had given her when she’d moved to Seattle. “I have a road bike. To be honest, I haven’t ridden in a long time. I tried to bike to work but it didn’t work out. You know Seattle. Too many hills.”

“Very true. What kind of books?”

“For fun?”

He nodded.

“I’m fascinated with historical fiction.”

“I’m an action-adventure reader myself.”

She laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”

The Tube slowed. A voice over the loudspeaker announced their arrival at Paddington Station.

“This is us,” Gwen said.

Craig, Ned and Joyce rose from the bench and crowded toward the door. Gwen turned her back to Derek just as the car came to a jerking stop. The force of the train’s abrupt halt caused several people to stumble. Someone bumped into Gwen, knocking her off balance. Derek’s arm coiled around her, steadying her.

Her already parched mouth went impossibly drier at the contact. She gathered her bearings and stepped away from him with a slight shiver. “Thank you, again.”

He grinned and winked. “Anytime.”

The doors opened and they stepped out into the brisk evening air. The tree-lined streets bustled with activity. There were black cabs, double-decker red buses and cars going by with nobody in the driver’s seat.

The facades of the buildings retained their time-gone-by feel that made Gwen smile. She loved the grand feel of London and the history represented in the architecture. The arched doorways and colorful doors of the tall slim houses that were built together as if sharing the walls, called to her. Someday she’d like to live in London.

Their hostel was two blocks down on the right. The two-story yellow brick building sat in the middle of the block. An archway over a red door welcomed them. Arched windows with wrought iron balconies gave the building charm.

The proprietor, who introduced himself as Damon, greeted them warmly and showed them to their accommodations. They passed a room with comfy-looking couches that served as the common area, then up a narrow staircase with an ornately carved banister.

The wood floors of the hallway were covered with worn blue runners. Gwen was thankful they each had separate rooms with a single bathroom just down the hall.

The rooms weren’t fancy, but they were clean and functional with a single bed, scratched-up dresser and small closet with empty hangers. Gwen’s room shared a wall with Joyce’s while the men’s rooms were across the way.

Derek and the others were making plans for a late dinner. Gwen listened for a moment before stepping into her room and closing the door. Her plan was to relax and prepare for the rest of the journey; the long flight in the morning from the UK to Africa, then the drive from Entebbe Airport to the Moswani province.

To that end, she grabbed a few toiletries and stepped back into the hall which was thankfully empty. She wasn’t big on small talk.

Between the long flight and the eight-hour time difference, she felt ready to grab a bite to eat at the little pub next door and then sleep. Refreshed, she opened the bathroom door and found Derek leaning against the wall.

She blinked. “Uh, it’s all yours.”

“Is there any hot water left?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “I think so. I wasn’t in there that long.”

His mouth quirked. “I’m teasing.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know him well enough to recognize when he was teasing or not. “I hope you’re not too uncomfortable with the accommodations here.”

He waved off her concern. “I lived in a dorm in college.”

“Well, Joyce wasn’t kidding when she said this is luxurious compared to where we’ll be staying next.”

He lightly tweaked her braid. “Don’t worry about me. I’m adaptable.”

She stepped away from him. “That’s good. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Hey, wait,” he said. “We’re all going to dinner in an hour. You’re coming, too.”

She cocked her head, not liking the way he told her what she was doing. “I don’t think so.”

“You have to eat. And from what the others were telling me, this might be the last normal meal we’ll get until we’re back here.”

“I don’t want to stay out late.”

The excuse was lame. She had no real reason not to join them other than she just wasn’t good in casual settings. She didn’t do the chitchatty, surface deal that Joyce was so good at. She hadn’t learned the fine art of conversation. Living on the street, it wasn’t a priority—wondering where the next meal was coming from was. She gave another prayer of thanks for Claire and the teen shelter she’d created, which helped get her off the street.

“I promise I won’t keep you out long.” He stepped into the bathroom. “I’ll come get you in an hour.” With that he shut the door.

Gwen frowned. He was awfully pushy, but she couldn’t deny that eating alone as usual wasn’t appealing. Maybe it was time to step out of her comfort zone and try to have a casual dinner out with the team.

Her team.

She had to keep reminding herself that she was in charge and responsible for the success of the mission and the safety of the people. A heavy load, but one she willingly bore.

An hour later, there was a knock on the door to her room. Her heart leaped and she forced herself to stay calm. This wasn’t a date. She wouldn’t be alone with Derek. Still she smoothed a hand over the skirt she’d brought to wear to church in the village.

She opened the door expecting to see Derek and found only Craig and Joyce standing in the hall.

Disappointment spiraled through Gwen and she forced the silly emotion down. She had no business caring one way or another about Derek’s whereabouts.

Still the anxious flutter of nerves warned her that she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she wanted to be. Not good. Not good at all.

Gwen forced a smile and stepped into the hall. “Hi, guys. Where are the other two?”

“Ned and Derek went on ahead to secure a table,” Joyce explained as they headed down the stairs.

“Boy, I’m starved.” Craig held open the door for the ladies. Gwen smiled at him as she left the hostel, liking his gentlemanly manners.

Joyce had changed into a pair of linen pants and a bright pink tank top that showed off her creamy complexion. Her dark hair curled in appealing ringlets. Craig had shaved, his young face looking even more boyish. His jeans and polo shirt could have used an iron.

They walked two blocks to a quaint restaurant called Monica’s. The entryway boasted dark mahogany wood and antique furnishings. Waiters with white aprons hustled about. Tantalizing aromas hung in the air and Gwen’s stomach rumbled.

At a white linen-covered table near the back Derek waved them over. He looked good, with his freshly washed hair and clean-shaven face, though there was nothing boyish about Derek. His broad shoulders filled out his silk blue shirt. He looked solid and sturdy. The type who liked to be in control.

Gwen hung back slightly, unsure where to sit.

Derek stood and pulled out a chair for Joyce and then turned to her. “Here you go.” He pulled out the chair next to where he’d been sitting.

“Thanks,” she murmured as she sat. Awareness tingled over her arms. She shivered.

He folded himself back into his chair. “Cold?”

She shook her head and picked up the menu. Traditional British Cuisine the top read. “This is an interesting place. How did you find it?”

Derek picked up his own menu. “Damon suggested it.”

“Get a load of this food,” Craig commented.

The one-page menu didn’t offer a great deal of choice but each dish listed was described in captivating detail, complete with its particular historical background. Gwen put her menu down. She swallowed a lump of dread. Nothing on the menu was traditional for her.

“Ooo. Calf’s liver and beetroot. Yum,” Joyce said with a wince that indicated she thought the dish anything but appealing.

A young woman approached their table. Her short spiked hair was tipped blue and one earring dangled from her right earlobe. “Ready to order?” she asked, her accent making it clear she was a local.

Each member of the team ordered something different from the traditional menu.

Then it was Gwen’s turn. She could feel the attention on her. “Do you have just fish and chips?”

The waitress sighed. “Yes.”

“Oh, come on. Try the Arbroath Smokie with me,” Derek said, his green eyes steady on her. “It’s haddock, smoked over an open fire. You’d like it.”

She frowned at the description. “No, I wouldn’t.”

To the waitress, she stated firmly, “The fish and chips, please.”

Better to go with something she’d had before than risk ordering something that she couldn’t eat and wasting the food.

Once the girl left, the conversation flowed easily enough. First with mundane get-to-know-you type things. Education, home towns and hobbies. Gwen participated a little, giving short evasive answers that made her sound an awful lot like Ned. She almost giggled, but managed to rein her amusement in.

But the small talk was wearing.

Soon the conversation turned to politics and became more animated as they discussed state issues and abuse of natural resources in the Pacific Northwest. Their food arrived and the conversation died down as they all concentrated on their meals.

“Here, try this,” Derek said as he offered her a forkful of his haddock.

She wrinkled her nose. “No. Too fishy.” Using the excuse of the fish, she backed away from the intimacy of his offering her food from his plate.

“How can you say that without tasting it?”

“I can smell it.”

“Be adventurous. Just taste it.”

“I am adventurous. You stop being so pushy.” She glared at him, but found it hard to be mad when his green eyes sparkled with amusement as he ate the bite intended for her.

When they left the restaurant, Joyce said she wanted to see some sights. Craig and Ned said they’d go, as well.

“Count me in,” Derek said. “Gwen?”

She shook her head. “I need to sleep.”

“Thought you said you were adventurous?”

There was challenge in his tone and she chafed against the need to prove to him that she could be adventurous. “We all should rest for the trip.”

“We can rest on the plane,” Derek replied. “We won’t stay out too late. Come on. How often do you get to just play?”

She felt torn between what she thought she should do and what she really wanted to do. She wanted to go, to be a part of the group, and see London at night.

To play.

But wouldn’t the more responsible, practical course be to turn in?

Of course, this could be a perfect opportunity to talk to Derek about how the group provides healing in so many ways beyond just the physical. So much was riding on this mission. She wanted to make Doc Harper proud and fulfill his wishes. She wanted to be a good leader.

“All right. Let’s go.”

The group set out. Ned, Craig and Joyce led the way while Derek walked along with Gwen. She and Derek lagged slightly behind the others. She found herself relaxing and enjoying his lively humor as she took in the sights—the spectacular Tower Bridge spanning the Thames, the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben.

His stories of growing up on Bainbridge Island, where his parents still resided enthralled her. It sounded so Leave it to Beaver-ish. So far removed from her own experiences as a homeless teen.

“Someone in the office said you’re a world-class marathon runner.”

He shrugged. “I’ve had some success.”

She waited, expecting him to expound on his successes. He didn’t. She liked that. She forced herself to remember why she hadn’t returned to the hostel. “The place we are going in Africa is very far removed from the rest of the world. You hear so much about AIDS in Africa, but malaria cases are more rampant worldwide. For many, Hands of Healing is the only hope of medical care they have.”

“You don’t have to sell me on the importance of why we’re going,” he stated softly.

No, she supposed she didn’t. He was his father’s son after all, but then why did Dr. Harper feel it necessary to ask her to promise to try to make Derek see that the healing they brought went beyond the physical? Shouldn’t Derek already know that?

“Tell me more about you,” he said.

“Not much to tell. Born in Portland, Oregon. Went to med school at OSHU in Portland. Pretty boring really,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t push for more details.

She didn’t share the pain of her childhood with anyone, let alone a man who had a perfect upbringing with loving parents. He wouldn’t understand.

The group stopped in front of a large cathedral. The spire rose heavenward and was lit from within. The big stone structure made Gwen feel small and insignificant against the history and power of faith that the building represented.

“We should get back before we all turn into pumpkins,” Joyce announced on a yawn.

Everyone agreed and returned to the hostel. As late as it was, Gwen didn’t feel exhausted or tired. She could have stayed out all night and been fine. The time spent with Derek and the others had been unexpectedly fun.

In the hall to their rooms they said good-night. Craig and Ned disappeared inside their rooms. Joyce lingered a moment then she, too, went inside her room, leaving Gwen and Derek alone in the hall.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Derek teased.

She smiled. “It was nice to ‘play.’ Thanks for talking me into going with you guys.”

He shrugged. “‘All work and no play,’ as they say.”

Remembering Joyce’s earlier comment, Gwen impulsively asked, “Do you find me dull?”

His gaze touched her face and lingered on her lips. “Not all at. I find you fascinating.”

She swallowed the unexpected lump in her throat. “You do?”

He nodded.

Had he moved closer? Against logic, against her ingrained sense of self-preservation, she swayed slightly toward him as if some invisible force was pulling her forward. Her gaze took in his features, memorizing the angle of his nose, the planes of his cheekbones. The fullness of his lips.

He gave her a crooked grin as his head dipped. She steadied herself, waiting, wondering, and fought the need to run, to protect herself.

Her eyes closed and her hands fisted in an effort to stay put. The air felt heavy as he came closer. Her breath hitched as old fears and unwanted memories battered at her consciousness.

His lips gently pressed against her forehead.

Her eyelids jerked open as confusion and then disappointment rushed in, filling her lungs to bursting.

“Good night, Gwen. I’ll see you in the morning,” he said before he turned and went into his own room.

She blinked. She put her hand to her hot cheeks.

What just happened?

For a brief moment she’d wanted him to kiss her. And he had. Only not in the way she’d expected.

Dope! Where would a kiss have led anyway?

Nowhere that she intended to go. That was for sure.

Becoming involved with her boss’s son was not something she was going to let happen.

Period.

End of story.

She fled to the sanctuary of her little room, wondering why she felt so let down.

By him or herself?

Chapter Three

The next morning Gwen awoke groggy from too little deep sleep. She didn’t regret spending the time the night before with the others. The bonding could only be good for the team.

She tried to analyze her feelings for Derek. He confused her and intrigued her. He obviously was ambitious and driven, yet there was a wildness in him that kept her on edge.

She had to keep a tight grip on the magnetic pull he had on her. Yes, he was good-looking. But more than that, something about him called to a restlessness inside her that she refused to unleash.

Best to keep a strictly professional demeanor around him and not form any sort of attachment.

With that settled in her mind, she dressed in black, stretchy yoga pants and a bright pink, long, lace-edged tunic T-shirt, then packed up and went to join the group in the common room where they were munching on scrambled eggs and toast. She immediately noticed Derek’s absence.

“Where’s Derek?”

Craig, sitting on the couch drinking from a water bottle, shrugged. He’d shaved and his dark hair was pulled back into its customary ponytail. His cargo pants and rust-colored Henley shirt made him look as though he was ready to go skateboarding rather than head to Africa.

“Took a run. Now showering,” Ned replied before stuffing his mouth with a bite of toast. He wore Bermuda shorts and a solid orange, short-sleeved button-down shirt. The outfit suggested he was a vacationer ready to go sightseeing, not travel halfway around the globe to help those less fortunate than himself.

Joyce dipped a tea bag in hot water. Her apparel was much more understated—dark jeans and a striped T-shirt. Her dark curls were stuffed under her hat. She’d applied a touch of makeup to accentuate her classical bone structure and wide eyes. “I wish I’d known he was going for a run. I’d have joined him.”

An unfamiliar sensation slid down Gwen’s spine. She frowned and shook it off before pouring some hot water from a silver pot into a flowered china cup. Whatever developed between Joyce and Derek was none of her business. Her only concern was to make sure he understood the work and came away appreciating the importance of what they did.

“I hope he’s ready soon,” she said to no one in particular.

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

Gwen’s whole being went on alert. She slowly pivoted and watched Derek come into the room wearing flat-front khaki shorts and a white, short-sleeved shirt hanging open over a print screen T-shirt of a basketball player making a jump shot. He exuded confidence and health. With his smooth square jaw and freshly blow-dried hair, he could easily be a model for some sports and fitness magazine.

Gwen forced her gaze from his long muscular legs to his eyes which glinted with a knowing amusement. As if he’d sensed her attraction before she had even become aware of it.

“Good,” she said in a decisive tone that hid the pounding of her heart—far from a “professional” reaction to the man.

Derek gave her a short nod as he moved past her to the table where the food had been set out. He put a piece of toast on a plate and then poured himself a cup of coffee.

Gwen drank her tea while the group chatted and finished up their breakfast. After paying for their stay they were off to Heathrow. Though Derek was considerate and charming, Gwen sensed a distance that hadn’t been there the night before. He didn’t tease her or flash his grin at all.

She should be thankful.

Really, she should.

As she settled into a seat in the waiting area at the gate, she wondered if she’d done something to offend him. She silenced a groan. Maybe she’d seemed too forward or willing to be kissed last night and that had repulsed him. Maybe he did find her dull even though he’d claimed the opposite.

She gave a sharp shake of her head as old echoes of worthlessness tried to rise. No. She was a strong independent woman who didn’t need validation from anyone, let alone a man she barely knew.

Over the years, guarding her heart and her space had become as natural as breathing.

If she stayed prepared and in control, she’d never have to be vulnerable again.

Derek leaned against a concrete pillar while the rest of the group sat in the stiff black chairs in the wide waiting area of the airline’s boarding gate. He didn’t see why they’d want to sit now when they’d be sitting for the next eight or so hours in the confining plane cabin.

He longed to get out and run off more of the relentless energy that buzzed through his system. The sprint from the morning had barely assuaged his need to move. He’d been keyed up ever since he’d almost kissed Gwen the night before.

Man, what had he been thinking?

At least he’d had the good sense to divert his mouth to the petal softness of her forehead and not touched the apricot-colored lips she’d offered. That would have been a huge mistake.

He acknowledged he was commitment-phobic. He’d certainly heard it from every female in his life, including his mother. He accepted he was a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy. It worked for him.

Gwen was not a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of woman.

And if he did anything to hurt her, his father would skin him alive. Not what he was going for.

He had to stay focused. Life was an adventure that he fully intended to live.

Without the burden of a relationship.

He prayed, something he didn’t do often, that he’d find the will to keep from acting on the attraction sizzling between them.

Gwen decided not to spend any more time worrying about Derek and his mood. She’d had enough of that growing up, trying to determine when she was safe and when she should hide. She’d vowed never to be at the mercy of someone else again.

Their flight would be taking off soon. Once they reached their destination, she’d fulfill her promise to her mentor and focus her energy on making this mission a success. Though her definition of success wouldn’t match that of world opinion.

Success meant knowing she’d made a difference in the world, demonstrated God’s love in a real and tangible way.

“Hey, guys, let’s pray before we board,” she said to the group.

“Good idea.” Joyce stood. Craig and Ned followed suit. Gwen rose, took Joyce’s hand in her left hand and then waved Derek over with her right hand.

He pushed off the pillar and slowly made his way to join their circle. He frowned as his gaze took in their linked hands. “What’s this?”

Gwen pinned him with her gaze. “We’re going to say a prayer for a safe journey.”

“Can’t we each silently say our own prayer?”

Was Dr. Harper wrong about his son’s faith? He’d said Derek had accepted Christ as his Savior as a teen, but that didn’t necessarily make him a believer.

“‘For where two or three are gathered,’” Gwen quoted Matthew 18:20 softly, then narrowed her gaze. “What’s the problem?”

Derek glanced around. “I just don’t think we need to advertise.”

“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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