A Time to Surrender (20 page)

Lord, I need some direction here.
He’d prayed for Skylar as he did for Jenna, that God would give her faith to see Himself.
It’s backfiring. The more I pray for her, the more she’s on my mind. And that’s a bit too much even for me to see You do.

He should go home, surf, clear his mind.

But the thought of being near Skylar was doing a number on him. Could be there weren’t enough waves to clear his mind of her—or to get a handle on his feelings.

Thirty-seven

T
he courtyard was midnight quiet. Low-to-the-ground solar lamps lit stone pathways and threw the fountain into a tall shadow. When guests slept at the hacienda, the gentle flow trickled throughout the night. Not this night, though. This night was for family and for remembering. For remembering and letting go of the old.

Skylar sat in a wicker chair near the fountain, wrapped in Indio’s quilt. She hugged herself, rocking back and forth without benefit of rockers. She twisted a long strand of hair around and around, aware that she was neither guest nor family.

Kansas was growing complicated.

“Skylar.” Danny’s voice startled her. He came into view, moving up one of the side paths to her. “Sorry.”

“I thought you left.”

He sat in another chair and propped his feet on the fountain’s edge. “Jenna might wake up and think she can head to the hospital to see Amber. I don’t want her driving in the middle of the night. I don’t want her—” He abruptly stopped talking.

“Don’t want her what?”

Leaning back, he tilted his chin toward the starlit sky. “Nothing.” He paused. “There was a guy with her at the hospital this morning. I don’t want her depending on him for help.”

She set her bare feet on the chair and hugged her knees. “You are quite the brother.”

“Granted, I’m a brother. What does ‘quite’ mean?”

“Cleaver-like.” She laid her forehead against her knees, blocking the view of his shadowy face, too spent to keep up her facade.

Not a good situation.

“Skylar, when you refer to us as the Cleavers, I wonder if you’re poking fun. Those sitcoms were about clueless dorks.”

“True, but the great thing was they all hung together through thick and thin.”

“So you think we’re jerks who have loyalty down pat.”

She turned her head sideways and gazed at his profile. “No. I think you’re the most amazing family on the face of the earth. ‘Quite the brother’ means you watch over your Lexi and Jenna like a guardian angel. You probably do Erik too. I wish I had been born a Beaumont.”

The starlight caught a flash of white. He was smiling. “Thank goodness you weren’t. I couldn’t have handled another sister.”

Skylar buried her face again.

Jenna might very well sleep through the rest of the night until noon tomorrow. Her body was in dire need of restoration. And yet there Danny sat, available. Like he’d been for Lexi earlier that afternoon on the hike. She and Nathan had emerged from the mine, laughing and talking nonstop. Danny had appeared several moments later, uncharacteristically subdued. Skylar understood that he had entered Lexi’s nightmare and taken it on as his own. He would always be there for her.

The guy had guardian angel written all over him.

He said, “Why are you still awake?”

She sighed to herself and looked again at his profile. “Let me put it this way. If I drank, smoked, or did drugs, I’d be asleep.”

He swung around to face her.

As she knew he would. “Gotcha. You figured I did drugs, didn’t you? Because of the unconventional way I dress and talk. Because of my gypsy roaming.”

“Guilty, I confess.”

“You really should do something about those preconceptions of yours, you know? The world is not a black-and-white place.”

“Has my mom been talking to you?”

“She doesn’t have to point out the obvious. I mean, you protest the war. Lexi is all about protecting wildlife and the environment. Which puts the three of us in agreement on several points. But there’s a huge difference. You two happen to look like a goody-goody TV family while I resemble a 1960s Haight-Ashbury leftover.”

“I apologize, Skylar. It’s been my experience—oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Okay, okay. I had a couple of really close friends. When we went off to college, they totally embraced the anti-everything lifestyle, complete with drugs and the hippie look. The point is, I thought I’d met your type before, because of the resemblance. In all honesty, though, I’ve never met anyone like you. I’m sorry for prejudging.”

“Apology accepted.”

“So I guess we’re both awake. Anything in particular you want to talk about?”

Pick a topic.

She probably knew the identity of the bomber.

She’d packed her bag.

She could never go home.

She could not stop thinking about Danny holding her.

Which was the only thing that kept her from bolting.

Not exactly subjects to discuss with him.

It was time to calm down and slip on the facade again. Her foray into being real hadn’t chased him off, but if she kept going down that road, decisions would be made for her. Decisions she didn’t want to face in the middle of the night with Danny Beaumont, who had just said in a tone of
admiration
that he’d never met anyone like her.

Now,
there
was topic for discussion, but she said, “No. Anything you want to talk about?”

“Nah. We could just sit here, watch the stars, and not talk.”

“Did you actually say you’d sit still and shut up?”

He laughed softly.

Silence settled between them. Comfort as deep and warm as the quilt enveloped her heart and, for the moment, pushed aside all the complications Kansas could serve up.

B
ells and smells.” Danny nodded sagely at his mother. “Skylar is going to be impressed.”

“Oh, hush.” Claire frowned. “Why are you still here anyway? It’s Sunday morning.”

“People keep asking me that.” He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Skylar sipped luscious coffee and watched the two of them fuss back and forth. It was interesting how Danny unraveled Claire unlike her other children could.

His mom, at the kitchen island, shook a finger very near his chin. “Let’s get one thing straight. Just because you’re here does not give you permission to pester Skylar.”

Skylar snickered.

Claire turned toward her, eyebrows raised.

Skylar said, “It’s okay, Claire. He’s not pestering.”

“See, Mom?” His eyes danced. “Sky and I got it all worked out last night. She basically told me I’m judgmental, and I apologized. Profusely.”

Skylar said, “Huh-uh. Not profusely, but enough to remove the pester moniker.”

He smiled.

Claire swiveled her gaze between them.

Skylar grinned. “He does get to you, Claire.”

She sighed. “As I was saying, our church is liturgical, but not overly formal. You don’t have to feel that you must go through all the motions. Danny doesn’t. Everyone is friendly but they’re focused on God. They don’t care who’s kneeling or not.”

“It sounds similar enough to the church I went to as a kid. I’ll be fine. No worries.”

Claire nodded. “I have to check on Jenna before we go.” With that she left the kitchen.

Danny said, “If you’re not fine during the service, we can leave.”

“Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“Well, why is it you decided to go today? Mom said you didn’t seem interested in going before now.”

She hid her face, taking another drink of coffee, and thought of her packed bag inside her room. She was so torn.

Inadvertently she’d inflicted damage on the Beaumonts. She had brought evil into Kansas. It was time to go. But then they all showered her with unconditional love. And last night Danny had accepted her. When they parted ways at 2 a.m. he whispered, “I hope you don’t leave.” As if he knew . . .

He knew somehow, more than he had words for, but he knew. He saw beneath the surface of things. His ability frightened and comforted her at the same time.

Danny took a step nearer her, but stopped an arm’s length away. “Can I take a guess why you want to go to church today?”

She lowered the cup. His dark eyes no longer danced. They’d softened to a velvety concern. She shrugged.

“You want to go for the same reason most of us do: because none of us are fine. We hope to get fine by being part of this age-old tradition of corporate worship where we’re reminded that God dispenses forgiveness.”

Lowering her chin, she gave him a sarcastic look. “It’s that simple?”

“It’s that simple.”

D
anny thought getting fine at church was simple. Twenty minutes into the service Skylar wondered if losing the ability to breathe was part of the guy’s “simple” process.

The old church was straight out of some Zorro-era movie with all the wood, stained glass, candles, and crosses. She sat in a pew, Danny on one side of her, Claire the other. Max, Indio, Ben, Lexi, and Tuyen filled in the remainder of the row.

The Beaumont row. Nice and cozy. Homey.

She couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t so much the nearness of half this clan that claimed her as family. Nor was it candles or perfumes that robbed her lungs of needed oxygen. The windows were open. It wasn’t even her inexplicable warming toward Danny.

No, the problem was the air itself.

The air was alive, a living, breathing entity that she could not escape. It felt thick, layers and layers thick. It felt as if it propped her up, keeping her body rigid. It pressed against her, scrabbling for a way inside.

Danny turned and waggled his brows, asking in that gesture if she was okay.

She whispered, “I can’t breathe.”

He leaned in, his ear close to her lips as if he hadn’t heard.

“I can’t breathe.” Her voice came like spurts from a tire pump. “The air is too thick.”

He angled his head and made eye contact with her. A smile started at one corner of his mouth and spread slowly until the lines at his eyes crinkled. Then he put his lips to her ear. “It’s not thick. It’s thin. You’re in a thin space, Sky.”

A thin space? Not air so thick it enveloped her like a suit of armor?
Thin?

Danny put his hand over the one she had splayed on the wooden seat between them. His touch sparked a shock wave, a current racing up her arm and throughout her body. In a flash she understood.

What felt like air thick enough to touch her was exactly that: a touch . . . an embrace from the unseen . . . able to reach her because in that space of corporate worship, the separation between the visible and the invisible had thinned to
nothing
.

If not for the belief that if she stood she would fall, Skylar would have torn down the aisle and never looked back.

Thirty-eight

D
anny.” Claire grabbed her son’s arm. “Let her go.”

They stood in the hacienda’s courtyard, watching Skylar scurry off like a deer at the first bang of a shotgun.

Claire felt Danny’s resistant strain against her hold, but he didn’t break away. “She’ll work it out, hon.”

Skylar reached the far end and turned the corner toward her room.

At last Danny relaxed. “I thought we were making progress.” Frustration laced his tone.

Claire let go of his arm. “We can’t push these things. It was clear that church moved her in some way. But that’s between her and God. She doesn’t need lunch with us to help Him.” A memory flashed and she chuckled. “I can’t tell you how I used to loathe coming here for lunch after church with Nana and Papa. I carried around so much guilt and hurt that their talk about what went on in the service only made it worse, no matter how good their intentions.”

“I never knew that.”

“It was before you were born. Later I got fairly adept at faking it.” She smiled. “You probably can’t relate. You were born with Tigger’s bounce and St. Paul’s faith. Why would anyone not accept what Jesus taught? Why wouldn’t they want to hang out with the likes of you and Nana and wax eloquent about His life-changing truths?”

“Well.” He shrugged. “Why not?”

“Because she’s not ready just like I wasn’t ready. The Spirit has to work in her. I suspect that like with me, there’s a lot of heavy baggage in there that’s been piling up.”

“I could at least take lunch to her.”

“Danny, are you not listening? Give her a break.”

“But—”

“No buts. Besides, Jenna’s ready to leave. I’ll pack you a lunch and you can take her home. Then maybe you could take yourself home.”

“Mom.” He protested, a pinched expression on his face.

She felt a Danny collision in the making. What was going on with him? In the faith department he’d been light-years ahead of her his entire life. He knew more Scripture than she would ever even have time to read. As a toddler he’d pray about everything—Lexi’s lost paintbrush, rain, a parking spot for his mom, limping seagulls. Why would he lose sight over an obviously hurting young woman?

Unless . . .

Claire studied his profile. He gazed toward where Skylar had been, his eyes half-shut. A jaw muscle twitched. His hands on his hips expressed a sense of determination, as if he’d hound her until she was his.

Danny was falling in love with Skylar?

Okay.
That would take some adjustment on her part.

Danny was her traditional, most-like-Max child. He focused on his two businesses and spent downtime with friends from his church. His church—where all the young women were traditional, focused on their careers, and spent their downtime with friends from church. Couples kept forming within that circle of friends. Danny seemed destined to hook up with one of them sooner or later, whenever he got around to realizing that sharing life with a special woman beat rooming with Hawk.

Or was that a mother thinking with her heart?

Skylar was a free spirit who did not have an interest in career. She resembled Danny’s dearest childhood friend after she had abandoned the traditional route and broke his heart.

Skylar carried a whole lot of baggage. Absent parents. Poverty.

Much like Claire had herself when she had met Max.