Irene Hannon - Child of Grace

In the end, though, God had sent Carlos into his life. A young man whose heart burned with love for the Lord. Who had reminded him that in the midst of trauma and tragedy, good survived. Hope endured. Dreams flourished. Working with him day after day, watching him give tirelessly with a compassion that put the Good Samaritan to shame, had reinvigorated Luke’s own faith.

Even as he lay dying, the young medic had been a source of inspiration. His eyes had been filled with the kind of peace that only comes from knowing you’ve done your best to follow the precepts of the Lord and are ready to meet Him face-to-face. His one regret, he’d told Luke, was that his dream to help young people back home would never be realized.

As he’d held the young man’s hand, watching his life slip away while artillery shells burst around them, Luke had choked out a promise that his dream wouldn’t die.

Gratitude had smoothed the lines of pain from Carlos’s face, and he’d summoned up the last of his strength to speak. When Luke leaned close, he’d whispered, “Thank you.”

And then the medic had tightened his grip and uttered two short sentences Luke would never forget.

“Let not your heart be troubled, my friend. God will bring good from this.”

Moments later, Carlos’s hand had grown slack in his.

The outline of the soaring cross blurred, and Luke blinked to clear his vision. His faith wasn’t as strong as Carlos’s. Especially after ten brutal years of treating battlefield injuries. But he intended to make certain at least one good thing came from the young man’s death.

And as he unlocked his car and slid behind the wheel, he renewed the vow he’d made that day in Afghanistan. Before he left Michigan in six weeks, the youth center Carlos had dreamed of would be well on its way to becoming a reality.

Whatever it took.

The bell over the front door of the shop jingled behind her, and Kelsey checked her watch as she typed the final figures into the spreadsheet on the computer. Ten o’clock. On the dot. It had to be the army doctor her pastor had called about yesterday. He’d said the man would stop by around ten. And the military was nothing if not regimented.

“Give me one sec.” She threw the comment over her shoulder as she hit Save. She wasn’t thrilled about dusting off her PR skills or opening the door to her old life, but it was hard to say no to a godly man like Reverend Howard. And the youth center project did sound worthwhile. Besides, it wouldn’t kill her to consult with the doctor for an hour, considering the amount of time he was investing.

Summoning up a smile, she swung around in her chair. “I’m sorry to keep you wai—”

The breath whooshed out of her lungs.

Her new neighbor stood six feet away. The one with the broad shoulders and impressive biceps.

Not that his biceps were on display today. Instead of a chest-hugging T-shirt and shorts, he was wearing a sport coat with a subtle herringbone pattern, tan slacks and spit-and-polished dress shoes. He looked professional. Reputable. Honorable.

And as stunned as she was.

“Kelsey Anderson?”

She opened her mouth to respond.

Nothing came out.

No surprise there. It was hard enough to breathe, let alone speak, with the man towering over her. Making her feel small. Vulnerable. Powerless.

“Well…good morning! We don’t often have gentlemen venture into our establishments.”

At Dorothy’s cheerful welcome, the man turned. Giving Kelsey a chance to catch her breath.

Thank You, Lord!

Her shop mate was still hidden from Kelsey’s view by the man’s tall form, but her words registered loud and clear. “Dorothy Martin. I own Tea for Two.” A hand shot out to gesture toward the other side of the shop. “You must be the army captain Kelsey told me about. I was just making a tea and scones delivery to my lovely neighbor. She must be in the back. I’ll be happy to get her…”

Kelsey gripped the arms of her chair and struggled to her feet. At the squeak of her chair, Dorothy peeked around the visitor.

“Oh. There you are, my dear. Did I interrupt a conversation?”

“No. I just arrived. And I’m afraid I startled Ms. Anderson.” The army doctor moved toward her and extended his hand. “Luke Turner.”

Kelsey inched closer, wiping her palm on her slacks before she placed her fingers in his. As their hands connected, he flicked a quick glance down.

“The burn seems to be healing well.”

Dorothy tipped her head and set the tea and scones on the counter. “You two have met before?”

Kelsey tugged her hand free and took a step back. “Yes. Captain—Doctor—Turner is the new neighbor I mentioned to you.” She tried to keep her inflection neutral, but Dorothy’s sharp look told her the other woman had picked up her nervousness.

The slight narrowing of Luke Turner’s eyes told her he had, too.

“My goodness!” Dorothy’s hand fluttered to her chest. “What an odd coincidence!” She motioned toward the snack she’d delivered and raised an eyebrow at Kelsey. “If you’d like to talk in the tearoom, I could bring a pot out for you to share.”

Kelsey thanked her with her eyes. The closer she was to her dear friend, the safer she’d feel.

“That would be lovely. Thank you, Dorothy.” She inclined her head toward the other half of the shop and addressed Luke. “It will be more comfortable to have our discussion over there.”

As she grabbed a pen and notebook off her desk, he surveyed the sturdy chairs around the table in the corner where she held classes. In truth, they would better suit his tall frame. He’d be more comfortable here. But much to her relief, he followed her to the other side without comment.

“You two go right ahead with your business while I put on a pot of tea.” Dorothy deposited Kelsey’s scones and china cup on a table for two, brushed a miniscule speck off the pristine white cloth, and hurried toward the kitchen.

Pulling out one of the dainty chairs, Luke held it while Kelsey sat. Then he took the one on the opposite side of the table. The furniture seemed undersized to his large frame, and Kelsey felt foolish for insisting they move their discussion to this side of the shop.

Best to dive in so he could be on his way as quickly as possible.

“Reverend Howard was very enthusiastic about your project when he called.” She tried for a conversational tone, but her voice came out sounding stiff.

Luke regarded her across the snowy expanse of linen, the expression in his dark brown eyes unreadable. “Before we get to that, may I ask you a question?”

A caution bell rang in her mind. “About what?”

“About why I make you nervous.”

She swallowed. “You don’t make me nervous.”

Arching his eyebrows, he inspected the plate in front of her.

She looked down. A pile of crumbs was all that was left of the scone she’d pulverized.

Warmth rose to her cheeks, and she clasped her hands in her lap. It was silly to deny the obvious. But neither was she about to explain her reaction to this stranger.

When the silence between them lengthened, Luke rested his elbows on the table, steepled his fingers and frowned. “Have we ever met before that day on the beach, Ms. Anderson?”

“No.”

“Then I must have done something to offend—or alarm—you during our short acquaintance.”

“No. You haven’t.” She took a deep breath. “This isn’t a personal issue, Captain—Doctor—which do you prefer?”

“I prefer Luke.” He pinned her with an intent gaze and let a few beats of silence tick by. “Let me be honest. This youth center is too important to fall victim to a personality…quirk—for want of a better term. We need someone with your skills to help us build public awareness, but if you don’t think we can work together, tell me now and I’ll ask the board to suggest someone else.”