Over the Waters (25 page)

"So...how long are you here for?" She held her breath, certain he would tell her he was flying back tonight.

He didn't answer, but studied Valerie for a minute. "It's really good to see you.
Really
good."

There was something in his smile she didn't dare interpret.

M
ax looked at the ground for a minute before meeting her eyes again. "How would you feel if I told you I'd bought a one-way ticket to Haiti?"

Valerie stared at him. "I don't...understand. What do you mean?" She didn't dare to let her imagination take her where it wanted to.

"Do you have time to walk with me back to Duval's?"

She nodded, hope swelling within her, making her buoyant.

Max shouted for Henri to lock the gate behind them, and they started up the rutted road. They walked in silence for a minute. It felt sweetly familiar to be here with him again, even though the scorching sun told her it was four o'clock in the afternoon, instead of the cool dawn of their early-morning walks.

"I want to tell you about what's happening in my life right now, Valerie. But first, I need to explain that..." He seemed to struggle for the words. "This has nothing to do with you," he finally said. "This is my deal and I don't want you to feel burdened by it."

She turned to him, wrinkling her brow in bewilderment.

He gave her a smile laced with apology. "Let me try to explain. I'll have to go back to Chicago...eventually, because I'm tied there by too many ropes that still need to be severed. But I've felt drawn back here ever since I said goodbye to you that night in Chicago."

He took in her raised eyebrows and held up a hand. "I know, I know...I said it had nothing to do with you. And really, it doesn't. Or maybe it does." He threw up his hands and huffed out a breath of air. "I'm not making any sense at all, am I?"

She strained to smile, unsure how to answer. He
wasn't
making sense. She didn't know what he was trying to say and the wild guesses skittering about her brain confused her more.

"I've been taking stock of my life since I got back, and I don't like what I see. I made a commitment to the Lord, and I've asked Him to guide my life. I truly want that, but somehow my life is still all tied up in money. All the things I thought would bring me freedom and happiness have completely imprisoned me and made me miserable." He turned to look at her, as if to gauge how she was receiving his words.

With effort, she gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

"Valerie, when I came here last January, I had everything a man could possibly want back in Chicago. But my life there felt completely empty. In Brizjanti, I had almost nothing, and I felt full to overflowing."

Their eyes met and she offered a sympathetic smile.

"I make a fortune at what I do," he went on. "But suddenly I not only find no joy in my work, but it seems worse than useless. I look at the children over here who have such incredible needs--Rocky and Samantha's little Birdy. So many of them. I have the skills to help kids like that, Valerie." His voice rose an octave, then plummeted with his next words. "And instead I'm spending my time and my education and my energy making beautiful, vain, selfish women
more
so! It seems--just wrong somehow. And then...oh, then, I think of Josh." He paused, obviously struggling to contain his emotions.

Valerie walked in silence beside him, praying without words, a peculiar excitement growing inside her.

Max turned to meet her gaze. "How could I have been so blind as to think Joshua was the one wasting his talent? I don't know...I do not know." He spat out the words one by one, his shoulders hunched with the effort. "It tears me apart."

"Oh, Max..." She had no other words to offer.

But he didn't seem to notice. "I've lost my chance to ever have a relationship with my son. But...I think I have something to give to the children Josh loved. The kids here--in Brizjanti. I...I don't know if that's a right reason to give up everything I've worked so hard for. I can't truly say that I've heard God's calling to make such a drastic change in my life. All I know is I can't go on as I have been. I can't, Valerie."

She took a deep breath and held it, not willing to pierce the holy silence that surrounded them. Finally she felt released to speak. "Max, have you ever considered that God is speaking, guiding you
through
your dissatisfaction, through your disillusionment with your present circumstances?" She shrugged. "I don't know the secret to knowing God's will. But I think sometimes, all we can do is take the next step and trust that He'll turn us around if it's wrong."

He seemed to consider her words. "I have a long way to go, so much to learn about God, about this faith that has turned my life upside down. I don't want to move too fast, but...I realized something when you called the other night, Valerie. What I lack in so many areas, I make up for in...well, in my bank account." He gave her a sheepish smile.

A rattletrap pickup trundled by and Max stopped and gently pushed her to the edge of the ditch, shielding her until it passed. The Haitian laborers perched on the tailgate hooted and whistled as they went by.

She ignored them and trained her ear on the words Max shouted over the commotion.

"It cost a small fortune to fly over here and bring that equipment--I'm not bragging but--" The noise of the truck drowned out his words, but she could have heard the laughter in his voice over a hurricane.

The splatter of mud and dust the truck had kicked up settled and the road was quiet again.

He gave her that grin she'd dreamed of so often. "Okay, maybe I
am
bragging. But getting that stuff over here was something I could do that not many other people could have. I've wasted a lot of the gifts God gave me. Destroyed some of them..." He swallowed hard. "But God has blessed me financially. Tremendously. Oh, Valerie, I have a whole notebook of ideas and the backing to carry them out. A hospital for Brizjanti, new dormitories for Madame Duval's, a guesthouse between the two orphanages where visiting doctors could stay, a teaching hospital where the children could train to be doctors and nurses..." His words tumbled one over another, but he waved them away as if they were pesky flies. "It's too soon to talk about all that...I have to find out first if this is even where I'm supposed to be. Where God wants me."

Valerie forced herself to take slow, deep breaths. Everything in her wanted to fall into Max's arms and beg him to stay. Beg God for Max's dreams to be His. But she'd done that before. With Will. With her longing for children. This time, she would wait. She'd be praying her heart out the whole time, but she would wait.

They came to Madame Duval's and stood outside the gate. A gentle zephyr blew off the bay and the temperature dropped a few degrees as the sun made its descent.

Max held out a hand as if to catch the breeze. "That feels good," he said.

"It does." She turned her face to the west.

"And you know," he said, grinning, "I don't even care if it smells like a sewer."

She giggled. "That's good. If...if you're going to come here and...do all those things."

"Valerie, what I was trying to say is...I don't want you to think I came here--for you...for us. I won't be that presumptuous. If you never want to see me, I understand. I can stay away from Hope House--" His eyes were trained on her, but they were glazed with frustration and he shook his head.

"Boy...this isn't coming out like I wanted it to."

She thought she understood now. "How about we leave that part in God's hands, too?"

He nodded, relief plain on his face.

She smiled and reached for his hand. "But, hey...let's not be too close-minded about it either."

His laughter sailed on the wind.

Valerie joined in, breathing a silent prayer over their future. And it occurred to her that answers to prayers were even sweeter when you'd been waiting for them your whole life.

Brizjanti, Haiti, April 11

T
he staccato of workmen's hammers punctuated the warm April air. Behind the whitewashed buildings that made up the Hope House compound, a tall iron skeleton rose into the cerulean Haitian sky.
Hopital d'Espoir
. Hope Hospital.

Valerie hurried along the dusty path the workmen had worn between the main road and the construction site. The heavy water jug she carried tugged at her shoulder, cold water sloshing as she navigated the bumpy trail. Her offering would be welcome on this warm afternoon.

Lifting her eyes to the massive crisscross of beams overhead, she caught a glimpse of Max on the scaffolding that scaled the eastern side of the structure. He stood astride on the platform, gesturing and shouting something to the Haitian workers. She couldn't make out his words, but she smiled to herself at the authority he wielded. This was his hospital.

No. Max would have corrected her: This was
God's
hospital. But Max had worked full-time for the past year and a half, wrapping up his interests in Chicago, then overseeing the design, and ordering and shipping materials to Brizjanti for the construction of the medical facility. Madame Phil said she'd never seen anything so big go up so quickly here. Too often, it took months just to get supplies across the Atlantic for such a project.

But money talked. And Max knew how to make it sing. He'd never lorded his wealth over any of them, but he knew what was needed for the facility and he was particular about the quality of the work. Valerie loved that about him.

Max had assembled a crew of twenty Haitian workers, family men from the local church. Their respect for Max shone in their eager eyes and ready smiles as they worked long hours on the hospital construction. The project had put food on many Haitian tables over the past months, and several of the men had promised to stay on as maintenance and grounds workers when Hope Hospital opened next spring.

Already Max had begun recruiting physicians and nurses from his large church back in Chicago to come as volunteers in the facility two weeks out of the year. He'd also been interviewing skilled Haitian nurses and clinicians for the fifty-bed surgical center.

But it wasn't hospital business Valerie was interested in today. She sought Max for a different reason. She quickened her pace, resisting the urge to run. When she reached the base of the scaffold, she stood watching, waiting for him to notice her.

He observed as another section of reinforced cement was set in place. When the foreman signaled that it was secure, Max turned away, a look of satisfaction on his tanned face. He drew a wrinkled blue bandanna from his back pocket and swabbed at his forehead before tucking the cloth back into his pocket.

She knew the minute he spotted her. His eyes lit and a smile spread wide across his face.

She would never tire of seeing that unguarded joy on his face--joy at seeing
her
. She lifted her free hand in a wave. "Thirsty?"

He nodded and clambered down the wobbly scaffolding. Still grinning, he jumped to the ground and strode toward her. "I'd kiss you if I weren't so grimy."

She raised an eyebrow and flashed him a teasing smile. "I brought plenty of water. I can wait while you wash up."

He laughed, and offered cupped hands in invitation. She opened the jug and poured the cold water into his hands. Splashing and sputtering, he scrubbed his face, then tipped back his head and let the water trickle through his hair. He took the jug from her and drank deeply, then set it on the ground. With a gleam in his eye, he wagged his head like a freshly bathed puppy, spraying her with cool crystal droplets.

Valerie squealed and backed away, but he caught her up in his arms and twirled her around. He nuzzled her chin, his mouth seeking hers. She returned his kiss, until she remembered the workmen.

"Max..." She pulled away, shaking her head. "We have an audience."

They both looked up toward the hospital, but the work crew had turned back to their tasks. The gas engine of a cement mixer putted in rhythm with the clank of steel against steel, background music to their interlude.

Max pulled Valerie into a one-armed hug and kissed her soundly, then steered her into the shadow of an abandoned truck parked at the site. He kissed her again, longer this time, making her forget all about the work crew. If the sun hadn't already burnished her skin to copper, he would have seen her blushing madly.

Finally he pulled back a fraction, the impish gleam back in his eyes. "Okay. Now that we got
that
out of the way..."

She giggled.

He motioned toward the jug. "Did you come just to bring me fresh water?"

"
And
for those kisses."

"Well, of course." He cocked his head. "But seriously, you look like you have news."

She patted her pocket. "I do. And you almost made me forget."

He waited, curiosity in his eyes.

"I got a letter from Beth. They've all got tickets to come over the first week in May."

His eyebrows shot up. "So it's on, then?"

"It's on--" she dipped her head "--if you're still willing."

He drew her into his arms again. "Don't be silly, Miss Valerie. You're the one who should be seriously thinking of gettin' out while the gettin' is good."

"No sir, Dr. Jordan. You're not getting off the hook that easily. But if we get married the first Saturday of May--" She gave a little gasp. "That's less than three weeks away!"

"
Now
are you chickening out on me?"

She frowned and looked past him to the framed structure that would soon be Hope Hospital. "No, but will the construction be far enough along that you could take a day off by then?"

"We'll see that it is. But only one day." His expression turned serious. "You're sure you don't mind?"

She wrapped her arms tighter around him. "I don't mind."

He brushed her forehead with his lips. "Here...I'll walk back with you. I need to get some blueprints from the office. Wait just a minute while I let Antoine know."

He ran to the base of the building and spoke briefly to the foreman.

When he returned to her side, he picked up the jug and put one arm around her shoulders, guiding her back to the road. "I've been needing some time with you." He planted a kiss in her hair.

"Oh, you have, have you? And why is that?"

He looked surprised. "You have to ask? Because I'm madly in love with you, that's why."

"Oh." She grinned up at him. "Good reason. I've needed some time with you, too. We have so many plans to make if we're going to get married in three weeks." A butterfly of panic fluttered up inside her.

The day after Max had asked her to marry him, they'd agreed the wedding would be here in Brizjanti, on Haitian soil. After all, this was not only the place they would spend the rest of their lives together, it was the place they'd met.

It was home.

But Max had promised her they wouldn't get married until Dean and Beth and the boys could be there. Valerie had always dreamed of having her sister stand with her as she spoke her vows. And Pastor Phil--if he was well enough--would be Max's best man. Phil Greene had served as a gentle shepherd while Max grew in his newfound faith. It amazed Valerie to compare her fiance to the cynical man she'd first met in the Port-au-Prince airport a little more than two years ago. God had truly worked a miracle in Max Jordan's heart.

But then, he'd worked a miracle in her own heart, as well.

"You're quiet." Max brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead.

"There's just so much to do. We have to decorate the church and plan a menu and--oh, my! What will I wear?"

"I know what I want you to wear."

She stopped in the path. "You do?"

A mischievous twinkle came to his eye. "That skirt...You know...the red checkered-y one...?"

She burst out laughing. "No way! I am not wearing that stupid skirt! But I just might plan a special bonfire ceremony for it during the wedding."

"Aw, come on. I've grown rather fond of that outfit."

She landed a playful punch on his forearm. But teasing with Max this way brought home the fact that she was about to take the most serious step of her life. A month from now, this man would be her husband. She'd be waking up beside him every morning and falling asleep in his arms. She shook her head and mentally rolled her eyes at the image. Maybe she had things a tad over-romanticized.

Max must have sensed something in her thoughts, for he turned to her with a quizzical expression. "What?"

"Nothing...I was just wondering if you were going to work this hard after we're married."

"You know I will, Valerie. We've talked about this and--"

She shushed him with a gentle finger to his mouth. "I know, I know. I'm not trying to pick a fight. I just want to be sure I get my fair share of you."

He wiggled Groucho Marx eyebrows at her. "Oh, don't you worry about that. Besides, you'll have me all to yourself on our honeymoon."

"That's a long way off, buddy."

They wouldn't take their honeymoon trip until winter. The hospital would be nearly completed by then and Max could finally take a break. They would have only about ten days, but he'd promised to show her Europe.

They had ulterior motives for choosing their destination. Pastor and Madame Phil had a son in England and a daughter living in Wales. Valerie and Max hoped to contact them and somehow arrange a surprise visit for the elderly couple.

They walked in easy silence back to Hope House. While visions of wedding gowns danced in her head, Valerie knew Max was beside her calculating work schedules and organizing cement-bucket brigades for his crew.

She sighed. Sometimes she was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of work there was to do before the hospital could open. By the time she and Max got back from their honeymoon, it would be time for him to supervise the installation of the surgical equipment. She was so proud of this man who had taken his wealth and multiplied it with wise investments and good management of his clinics in the States. In this land of deprivation, the funds would go a long way. They were both excited about what they might accomplish here.

As they approached the locked gates in front of Hope House, little Birdy stepped out of the shade of a ceiba tree. He wore only a tattered pair of khaki pants that were three sizes too big. Valerie cringed at the sight of the bony ribs embossing his concave chest. Birdy came almost daily now for whatever meager snack he might be offered. Valerie knew it wouldn't be long before other homeless children caught on and came begging at their gates. Then they would have to make some changes.

Yet God seemed to be opening so many doors here. Her heart thrilled at what the future might hold for children like Birdy because of their obedience--hers and Max's. It still amazed her.

Max had tried several times to get close enough to the little boy to assess the severity of his deformity, but Birdy always took off like a wild deer as soon as Max took two steps in his direction.

They stopped a few feet from where the boy stood. Valerie put up a hand. "Hi, Birdy." Unable to get his real name out of him, she had started calling him Birdy, even to his face. He seemed to like the name--or maybe he just liked the slice of bread or hunk of cheese that usually accompanied it. "Did you get your snack yet?" She made a spooning motion to her mouth.

He patted his tummy and nodded, his face twisting into a grotesque smile.

Samantha must have brought him something from Madame Duvall this morning.

"Good. See you tomorrow, okay?" She gave a little wave.

He didn't respond, but stood eyeing Max warily, poised to take flight. When they started on toward the gate, Birdy lit out, loping across the road and out of sight.

Max spoke under his breath. "We can help that child. I know we can. I have a young surgeon in one of the clinics who has already performed dozens of surgeries on complicated cleft palates. Birdy's condition is the severest I've come across, but I think Sylvia could do it."

"Oh, Max, that would be wonderful."

She leaned her head back in the crook of his shoulder, relishing the sense of belonging that overwhelmed her when she was with him. Sometimes she shuddered to think what her life might be like now if she had carried out her wedding plans with Will Concannon.

She shook off the thought. She didn't want to spoil one minute with Max beside her. Their life wasn't going to be an easy one. She already knew Max was a hard worker and a driven man. Leisurely walks like the one he offered her today might be a rarity in their future. But if that was what being Max Jordan's wife meant, she would take the good with the bad.

A breeze picked up and a bank of gray clouds rolled in. The air grew heavy with imminent rain. Valerie held out a hand, testing for raindrops.

Max turned to study the sky behind them. "We'd better run." He slid his arm from her shoulder and knit his fingers with hers. "Come on...hurry!"

Too late. All at once, the sky opened up and dumped a torrent of rain on them. Within seconds they were soaked to the skin, hair plastered to their scalps, eyelashes dripping, rivulets of rainwater trailing down their faces.

Valerie didn't care. An afternoon rain shower only meant a few more precious minutes together.

Laughing, he pulled her after him and they ran with abandon toward the shelter of Hope House.