Swiftly she turned, planning to disappear before he even realized she’d entered the room. But then, as if alerted by some sort of signal, he looked up and his leonine eyes locked with hers.
Immediately, he smiled. “Anya. I’m glad I caught you. I thought you’d already left.” And, just like that, he began walking toward her, acting like they were old friends. When he was standing right in front of her he cocked his head to one side. “Do you have a minute?” he asked. “Can we talk?”
As she gazed up at him alarm bells went off in Anya’s head. Tell him no, they warned. That’s the last thing you want to do. Stay away from this man. But the pounding of her heart was drowning out the bells and as she opened her mouth she knew she was going to say yes.
But then she blinked and that was what brought her back to her senses. “Um, no,” she said, her voice low so no-one else could hear. “We have nothing to talk about.”
And before he could stop her she turned on her heels and hurried out the door.
***
That afternoon when Rafe walked into the apartment he’d rented he slammed the door shut behind him. Was this how it was going to be? He’d traveled all the way to Germany, committed himself to a three-month stint working in an area he knew nothing about, just for a chance to be close to Anya again…only to have her slam that door right in his face. He was the biggest fool in the world, that was for sure. He should never have listened to Ridge and his harebrained schemes. He could just imagine his brother’s reaction when he told him how things had worked out. Ridge would laugh him from here to kingdom come. Sympathy had never been one of his strong points.
Feeling deflated, Rafe didn’t even bother to get his frozen dinner from the refrigerator. Food was the farthest thing from his mind. Right then what he needed was distraction. He flung himself down onto the sofa, reached for the remote control device and clicked on the television.
He’d been flipping channels for all of seven minutes before he groaned, ready to give up. Over a hundred channels and not a damn thing to watch. A lot of the channels were in German and he just wasn’t in the mood to follow fast-talking native German speakers just then. Other channels were in French, Spanish and Italian and the few English channels he could find were boring as heck. So much for finding his distraction on T.V.
He was just about ready to give up when he switched to a station that was clearly a religious one. The group of young people sitting on a grassy hill were singing a hymn that was known worldwide. “Amazing Grace,” they sang. “How sweet the sound.”
Although it wasn’t his usual cup of tea it sounded pretty good, kind of soothing to his restless spirit, and Rafe settled back in the seat to enjoy the song. As soon as they were done he reached for the remote, ready to move on to something with a bit more excitement, but just as he was about to press the button something on the screen caught his eye and he frowned. No, not something. Someone.
Eyes narrowed, he stared at the youngster seated in the back row, his round face beaming as he sang. Rafe frowned. He knew that face. For the life of him, he couldn’t say from where, but he just knew that he knew him.
And then the kid got up from the grassy bank and walked to the front then turned to face the group. “Thank you, everyone,” he said in a voice that was surprisingly big and bold. “That was wonderful singing, a great start to our meeting.”
It was when he heard the voice that Rafe realized who it was. The kid. Carlos. The one who had joined in the pillow fight and almost murdered him with pillow pounding. Carlos, who had come to Germany to set up a church, was now featured on one of the local religious channels. The kid hadn’t been lying, after all.
His interest in the program renewed, Rafe settled back to watch and that was how he learned about all the work that Carlos and his group were doing in the tiny town of Rothenberg. They’d set up a soup kitchen which did daily food distribution to the less fortunate in their community. They’d helped to build two homes after acquiring donations of two plots of land. Now they were trying to raise funds to acquire a third. Last on their list, they wanted to build a church.
“This is not an easy task,” Carlos told them. “I know it is easy to get discouraged, especially when the need is so great and our resources are so small. Still, we have to keep going. We cannot stop trying, not when there are people in dire need. I implore you, never give up.”
That drew some nods and a few claps but Rafe could see the looks of concern on many of the faces. Carlos, though, did not seem deterred. His message was about hope and faith and by the end of the sermon there was a visible change in the group. Their faces brighter now, the people nodded with each new point that Carlos made.
“I believe in miracles,” he declared. “Miracles come from unexpected places. We may have dreams, dreams to be an uplifting force and those dreams may be challenged. But we should never despair, not when the Lord is on our side.”
Rafe would never have guessed it, not when he’d met the unassuming kid in the hostel room, but Carlos was a great motivational speaker. He could see that now. When he’d wrapped up his message and the group began to sing again there was not one face on the T.V. screen that didn’t have a wide smile.
Rafe continued watching until the credits began floating up the screen. Hope United. That was what the group was called. And they were only a few hundred miles away. He knew exactly where to look if he wanted to find Carlos.
And Rafe decided he would do just that. He’d been down in the dumps, feeling dejected at the thought of a girl who wouldn’t even give him the time of day, but then his consciousness had been jarred by a humble fellow who had dedicated his life to helping others. Carlos had spoken about his lofty goals to do a whole lot more in the community. He’d also made it clear that they were far from achieving the financial goals that would help them realize that dream. Still, he admonished his team not to get discouraged because, as he put it, he believed in miracles.
“Well, Carlos,” Rafe muttered to himself, smiling as he scribbled down the name of the church, “say hello to your next miracle.” His smile widening into a self-satisfied grin, he got up and went to pick up his phone off the kitchen counter where he’d dropped it. He dialed the number to his office.
“Sarah,” he said as soon as his director of diversity and donations answered her phone, “I have the perfect project for you. It’s a bit outside of our usual focus but I think it’s worth adding to our list.”