With his heart pounding heavily, David realized that Samantha had come to mean more to him than he had planned. All along, he had figured that he couldn't develop an attachment for her, since he could not remain in Clam Creek. Now he realized that he felt something stronger for her than he had ever felt before with any woman, including his ex-wife. And if anything happened to Samantha...
He gulped and fought down the sense of panic that threatened him. He rubbed his hand across his face remembering that he hadn't had time to apologize to her. And what could he have said anyway? I'm sorry for being such a jerk? Excuse me for acting like an idiot? Words just didn't seem sufficient.
How could he have questioned her motives after all she had done for him and James? How could he have doubted her? Like a ray of sunshine, she had touched him and warmed his cynical heart. She had enveloped him in her own goodness, and he had begun to notice that the world still had a lot of sweetness in it.
...the fruit of the Spirit...
No. He set his mouth grimly. He could not attribute her disposition to any special gifts from above. She was simply Samantha. Because of her attitude, he had come to see that every day had something wonderful about it--even rainy days, even steamy summer nights. No matter how desperate his situation, every day held some special magic. Picking, and eating, blueberries fresh from the bush. Kissing Samantha's soft and yielding lips.
He cleared his throat and swallowed with difficulty. His son had bloomed like a wildflower full of hope and promise with Samantha's guidance. Once nervous and timid, James now looked healthy and he even seemed happy most of the time. He studied his son's face in the uncertain light of the truck cab.
The boy's features bore signs of strain. Not for the first time, David wondered how James would fare after they left Clam Creek, and Samantha, far behind them. David closed his eyes and pictured Samantha with her golden hair trailing down her back and her serene gray gaze staring into his soul. A vise clamped around his heart.
David opened his eyes as he and James were pitched viciously against the door when the truck stopped abruptly, a cedar sapling in its path. Fish shifted the gears and stamped on the accelerator. The truck slammed against the sapling and it snapped like a matchstick.
"We're close to the bridge," Fish announced. The grim set to his mouth, shadowed by the bizarre glow in the sky, lent him a fearsome look.
David knew that Fish would do anything to help Samantha, but what could anyone do if the field station went up in flames? That field station meant everything to her. He had begun to realize that much of her joy came from the fact that she loved her work. Without it, what would be left of her? Would she survive the shock? Would her God get her through that trauma?
How deep did her faith go? And what would he and James do if Samantha...."
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