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.