Behind her Derek stiffened on a hissed intake of breath. Gwen closed her eyes tight and wished her hands were free to cover her face. Just saying the words aloud brought shame flushing through her. Maybe the blow to the head had knocked a screw loose?
“I…I don’t know what to say,” he said softly, his voice full of concern, which she appreciated way too much.
“There’s not much for you to say. You asked why I don’t like to be touched. That’s why.”
“What…I mean, how did it happen?”
She opened her eyes and stared at the dark shadows so like the ones lurking in her soul. She didn’t allow herself to go to that place.
She’d broken down once and told Claire, half-afraid she’d throw her out, but Claire had cried with her and told her that God had cried, too.
That had begun the healing process for Gwen and had softened her heart toward God to the point that she finally allowed Him into her heart and started to live for Him.
Before then, she’d felt dead inside.
She hadn’t expected to ever reveal her past to Derek, but he had such a defensive barrier up that somehow she knew that the only way he’d let it come down was if she let hers down first.
A scary and difficult thing to do. She only hoped that it would do some good.
The sentiment from a contemporary Christian song ran through her mind. Something about not truly loving until you give your love away. The same could be said of trust.
As hard as it was going to be, she had to give of herself in order for Derek to give of himself, in order to heal him. Trust was earned. She prepared herself for the pain she knew would be inevitable as she relived that awful night.
“My parents died when I was ten. A drunken driver crossed the center line and hit them head-on.”
She could still remember the police officer’s expression as he came to the house to tell her. His dark face held such compassion and grief. Her babysitter, Mrs. Morse, had cried uncontrollably. Gwen wished she had been able to cry, but her whole being had gone into a numbed shock.
“I’m so sorry,” Derek said and he gave her fingers a squeeze.
“I didn’t want to believe they were gone. Even after I went to live with my aunt and uncle and their son, I kept expecting my parents to show up and take me home.”
The desolate and deep pain of loss still clung to her, coloring her words with sadness.
“At least you had somewhere to go,” he said softly.
She closed her eyes as bitter hate gathered at the corners of her mind. Take it away, Lord. Please take it away.
“That’s what everyone said. I should be grateful to my father’s sister for inviting me to live with them. But they took me in because it was the right thing to do, not because they had any affection for me. They were strict and fair for the most part except when it came to their son. Lloyd could do no wrong. On the honor roll, a star athlete. The Golden Boy.”
His voice held a dark, raw note of anger. “How old was your cousin?”
“Five years older. For two years, he teased and tormented me. My aunt would tell me not to be a crybaby and to stay out of Lloyd’s way. Never once did she or my uncle take my side even when it was obvious he’d done something nasty, like spilling his drink all over my homework or taking the garbage can and dumping it in my closet. Just stupid mean things.” Rage clenched a steely fist around her insides.
“What happened when you were twelve?” he rasped.
She swallowed back the bile that rose. Her heart started beating faster. “The week before I turned twelve, Lloyd cornered me in the upstairs hall and tried to kiss me. I told Aunt Bernice and she slapped me.” The sound of her aunt’s hand hitting her cheek had rung in her ears for weeks.
“What a witch!”
“Yeah, well. You asked how I learned to punch, well I learned quickly how to keep Lloyd at bay. He would laugh and taunt me that I couldn’t hurt him. So I practiced, lifting my uncle’s weights when no one would notice. I started to hurt him.
“He tried to hit me back once, but his father had stepped out of his study in time to see him with his fist raised. Uncle Jarrod had raised a brow at Lloyd but that was all. Luckily it was enough to keep Lloyd from hitting me.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“Who was I going to tell? And who’d believe me?” She sighed as she forced herself to swallow back the acid that churned in her stomach. “Later that summer they all went away for a week to their cabin house and left me home alone.”
Derek made a disgusted noise. “That’s neglect.”
“I didn’t mind. When they were gone I was safe. I was self-sufficient enough to cook mac and cheese and hot dogs. And I didn’t have to be on guard all the time. But then one night a bad storm hit and Lloyd came home. He’d said his parents wanted him to check on me.”
“Oh, man,” he ground out, dread lacing those two words.
She figured he guessed where she was headed, but she had come this far—she couldn’t stop now. The need to tell him rose, oppressive in its intensity. “I was in my room when I heard the front door open. I thought they were all back so I wasn’t real worried until Lloyd opened my bedroom door.”
She shuddered at the memory of his wild-eyed look. “He reeked of alcohol. I ordered him to leave. He just laughed. This crazy sound that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. He came at me with this leering grin and even at that young age, I knew what he wanted to take from me. I fought him, threatened to tell his parents, to tell the police. He jeered at me, saying who’d believe the poor little orphan girl.”
Hot tears ran down her cheeks, but she could only let them fall as her words tumbled out into the dark night. “After he left, I managed to clean myself up and then I grabbed everything I could carry, stole my aunt’s cookie jar money and ran because I knew he’d come back and do that to me again. And there was no one who could protect me.”
“Ah, baby, I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
The thick emotion in Derek’s voice brought fresh tears streaming down her face.
“Where did you go?”
She sniffed and took a deep breath, forcing herself to continue even as the shame tightened and bound her like the ropes holding her hostage. “I became one of the nameless, faceless teens living on the streets. I begged, borrowed, stole. I ate out of garbage cans or in soup kitchens. I bartered my body and my soul. I did what I had to in order to survive. To forget. Then one day two angels rescued me.”
“Angels rescued you?” he said skeptically.
The sun was beginning to rise, spreading light with gentle strokes that painted the morning sky in vibrant pinks and oranges. Gwen watched the sky awaken and remembered.
“They weren’t really angels, not the winged, haloed variety, anyway. I was pretty drugged out. This was before meth became so popular. Cocaine was my drug of choice. I had settled in a doorway in downtown Portland to ride a high when the door opened behind me. I fell back and smacked my head. In my state of mind, I thought I died or something when I looked up and saw these two beautiful women staring at me.
“That was the day I began to live again. The women, Claire and her aunt Denise, took me to live with them. No questions, no conditions. Just love. I was such a mess and such a royal pain in the beginning. But they were patient and kind. Then Aunt Denise got sick. I think Claire needed me as much as I needed her then. When Denise died, Claire and I became each other’s family.”
“Amazing.”
“Very amazing. Claire and Aunt Denise showed me God’s love through their love. Jesus said to love your neighbor as yourself. I think if everyone on earth practiced that there’d be less heartache in the world.”
“Amen to that,” Derek said.
“Claire runs a shelter for teen runaways. I was her first. I helped her with the others as I got older. It was gratifying to see these kids growing and changing. And some reconciled with their parents.”
“How did you get into medicine?”
Feeling less vulnerable now, she said, “I’d always done well in school and wanted some way to help others. I thought about becoming a full-fledged doctor but decided Physician’s Assistant worked because its less of the business part and more doctoring.”
“But with what you went through and the way you’ve not wanted to be touched, isn’t working with people difficult?”
She gave a little laugh. “Well, the things is, I’m in control of the touching. That I can handle.”
She could feel him nodding. “That makes sense. I—”
A rustling in the bushes echoed in the stillness. Suddenly a dozen or so men emerged from the dense foliage, the same men who’d taken them prisoner. All of them held automatic machine guns.
The big man who’d struck Derek stepped close and squatted down. His dark eyes hard and probing. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you, we took a wrong turn. We’re not here to cause any problems.”
“You are a problem. People will come looking for you.” The man stood.
The taste of fear was bitter in Derek’s mouth. “Hey, if you just let us go, we won’t tell anyone we even saw you.”
“Bring them,” the man ordered before once again disappearing through the bushes.
The command sent men scrambling over to where they sat. With rough movements, the men unbound them from each other and forced them to stand. The prolonged inactivity in the position of being bent at the knees made Derek’s legs wobble.
Two men had to half drag him forward. Derek craned his neck to see Gwen. She, too, seemed to be struggling to stand on her own. He could see the distress in her sweet face and the tears on her cheeks as the men pulled her along.
He knew how much this was hurting her. He couldn’t imagine the horror she was reliving. His heart ached from the pain of her story and he wanted to lash out. But some instinct kept him from recklessly acting on the impulse.
They moved through the undergrowth, branches scraping the bare skin of Derek’s legs and arms. For several yards they continued on until they broke through to a clearing. Derek stared at the sight of the large blockade erected in the middle of the river. Water lapped at the wood-and-stone structure on one side while the sun baked the dusty earth on the other. What horrible irony that their captors had brought them to the place they’d set out to find.
It wasn’t the government who’d deprived the villagers from the precious water source. But why would the rebels do this to their own people?
He and Gwen were unceremoniously deposited in a heap by the wet side of the riverbed. Derek met Gwen’s terror-filled gaze as one man fondled her long braid.
“Leave her alone!” Derek yelled, his heart slamming into his throat.
The man’s grin was cruel as he pulled Gwen to him, her bound hands the only defense she had against his larger body. The other men gathered about to see the show.
“No!” Derek thrashed against his own restraints. Pain exploded in his shoulder as another man hit him with the butt of his weapon. It would take more than the butt of a gun to stop him from trying to protect her. But the restraints held no matter how much he fought them.
The man tried to press his mouth to hers. She resisted, her head thrashing side to side. Her legs gave out, though Derek wasn’t sure if by design or fate, forcing the man to let her go. She crumpled in a heap on the ground and swiftly scuttled away from the captor above her. There were jeers and laughter at the man for being bested by the Muzungu woman.
“No, you don’t,” the man barked as he made a grab for her braid.
“Enough!”
The shouted command stilled everyone. Derek turned to see the leader approaching, his tall, lean body menacing and in control.
Gwen scooted as close to Derek as possible. Her body trembled against him. Softly she began to sing a praise song. Her normally clear voice was reedy and high. The leader frowned at her before marching past. The men followed him with suspicious glances at Gwen and gathered in a circle several feet away.
Gwen’s voice grew stronger, her gaze bright and wild. Derek was sure she was cracking up. The stress of their capture and the mauling had been too much. Guilt ate at him like acid. He moved to position himself so she could lean on him. She did so as she sang, the words washing over him in a cascade of soothing sound.
He was so impressed and proud of her for the way she’d overcome her traumatic and painful childhood to become the fascinating woman he’d grown to care for.
And he did care for her in ways he’d never cared for anyone else. She was strong yet so vulnerable. Intelligent and loving. She challenged him, made him want to be more than he ever dreamed he could be.
He prayed that he’d get a chance to be that man.
Listening to the song of worship brought peace to his soul and he joined his voice to hers. Awareness of the stares directed their way made him sing that much louder. The group of men returned their attention to their leader, then dispersed.
The leader and four men, one of whom was the man who’d grabbed Gwen, disappeared upstream while several others vanished into the thick stand of trees. Two men stayed behind, presumably as guards.
Derek kept his eyes on the two men as they conversed. The taller of the two men lit a cigarette and leaned against the thick support pole of the dam. His dark pants and dark shirt hung loosely on his thin frame.
The other man wore his mean-looking weapon strapped over his body. He had on green army fatigues and a matching vest over a white T-shirt.
The men were too far away for Derek to hear their conversation, which in turn meant they wouldn’t be able to hear him and Gwen. He stopped singing. “Gwen. Gwen.”
The song she was singing faded.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned by the pallor of her skin and the dazed look in her eyes.
She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I guess. I’m scared.”
“Me, too. But I’m choosing to believe what you told me earlier.”
She blinked and raised an eyebrow.
“God’s in control.” Just saying those words released some of the tension in his chest, despite the gravity of the situation.
She nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes against the raw affection and tenderness slicing through the protective covering that surrounded his heart. She’d bared her soul to him, trusted him with her story and now had given him the greatest gift by allowing herself to find comfort in his closeness.
He was moved to pray as he’d never prayed before. As they sat there for the longest time, her head resting on his shoulder, their sides pressed together offering mutual support, he prayed. Silently at first, then under his breath, the words tumbling out as he raised his voice.
He asked God for forgiveness for his disbelief, for his resentment. He prayed for protection over Gwen and himself, for Cam and Tito and Al. For all the people at the clinic and the village. He prayed for the souls of the men who’d taken them captive. He asked for forgiveness on their behalf, for mercy to fall on them.
Gwen, too, began to pray aloud, their words mingling.
“Shut up!”
Derek’s eyes jerked open. Gwen grew quiet, her body going rigid beside him. The short man loomed over them, his obsidian gaze angry, his face in a feral grimace.
In defiance, Derek spoke directly to the man. “May God forgive you and help you to find compassion in your soul.”
The man jerked his weapon from around his body and raised the end up over Derek. “You’ll see God soon enough.”
The man swung the weapon and connected with the side of Derek’s head. The world imploded in a shower of painful sparks. He heard Gwen scream. Derek’s head hung forward and he forced himself to raise his chin to stare defiantly at the guard. “My God’s stronger than you are.”
The man’s face twisted with rage. He raised his weapon again, his intent clear as he pointed the barrel at Derek’s head.
“Stop!”
The shouted command came from a few yards away. The two guards aimed their weapons toward Cam’s grandfather, James, Moses and Ethan as they came into view.
Derek groaned. Now more people were in danger because of his impulsiveness.
Would this nightmare ever stop?
James held up his hands and walked forward. He spoke in Swahili as he approached the men. Confusion crossed the guards’ faces. Amazingly they lowered their weapons and stepped back. Moses and Ethan rushed forward.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Derek stated. “How did you know where to find us?”
Moses untied the ropes wound around Derek’s wrists and pulled him to his feet. “I heard you and Miss Gwen arguing before you left. When you didn’t return, we set out to find you.”
Ethan helped Gwen to her feet.
“Thank you, Ethan,” she said and wobbled.
Derek slid an arm around her waist and supported her even though his own legs felt rubbery. James kept speaking as Moses and Ethan led Derek and Gwen down the dry riverbed to where a dark green jeep waited. At the wheel of the jeep was Tito.
They all climbed in and within a few moments James joined them. Derek sat in the back with his arm protectively around Gwen. She snuggled close. Soon they were speeding down the dry riverbed and onto the dirt road taking them back to the clinic.
“What did you say to them?” Derek asked James.
He grinned. “I tell them you saved my grandson’s life.”
“Why would that matter?”
“In Africa when one does a good deed it is rewarded by all. We have a saying here, Harambee. It is a Swahili word meaning ‘pulling together.’ We must all do our part. I explained that you are with the clinic that is giving care to our people and you are needed.”
“Wow, that’s awesome.” If only that concept worked in America. “I can’t begin to tell you how thankful we are you all showed up,” he said with heartfelt sincerity. His heart swelled with gratitude to God for the timely rescue.
He glanced at Gwen and saw that her eyes were closed and her breathing even. She’d fallen asleep with her head resting against his chest. He bent to place a light kiss on her hair.
An anxious ripple rolled through him. He didn’t know what the future held for them, but a bond had formed between them and it was more frightening than staring down the barrel of a gun.
Gwen awoke as the jeep pulled to a stop. She became aware of the rhythmic sound of Derek’s heart beating beneath her cheek. Suddenly shy and awkward, she sat up. He removed his arm, leaving her feeling vulnerable and out of sorts.
She hadn’t prepared herself for the aftermath of revealing her past to him. Nor had she been prepared for the way she’d turned to him for comfort.
It had felt so good to have him beside her when she’d been so afraid. His touch was safe and that was amazing to her.
Now as they disembarked from the jeep and were engulfed by the people waiting for them, she only had a fleeting moment to wonder how she and Derek would relate now that they were back, before Joyce and Mya were crying with relief and hugging her tight.
The rest of the afternoon went by in a haze of emotion as they told the story of their ordeal and relived the harrowing moments. Derek stayed far from her, his gaze once or twice touching on her before moving away. She didn’t understand the subtle distance she felt emanating from him. Had she been wrong to confide in him?
No, she decided. She wouldn’t begrudge telling him. Even if he didn’t reciprocate her trust, she’d made a huge leap in letting herself talk about the past.
The sense of freedom she felt was worth the price of risking her heart.
She nearly groaned aloud at that thought. It figured. She’d finally allow herself to care and the man would be even more closed off and guarded than she was. What a sad state of affairs.
But at least they were alive and she was sure his faith had grown. She was pretty sure her promise to Dr. Harper had been fulfilled. And really, what more could she ask for?
Tired and sore, she finally broke away to go lie down. Tomorrow would be soon enough to get her life back on track. As she drifted off to sleep, she heard Derek’s soothing voice whispering, “Good night, Gwennie.”
She knew then what else she could ask for: to heal his wounded heart.