So, thank You again for this opportunity to help. To make a difference, even if it is for just one person.
Immediately her thoughts went to Juan. She’d wondered what color his eyes were. When he’d opened them, she’d been stunned. His eyes were a blue-gray that seemed to see right into her very soul. They seemed so familiar, as if she should remember seeing those eyes somewhere before. Finally, she decided that it wasn’t necessarily the color of his eyes, but the man behind them.
Stubborn as a mule, he continued to insist that he was strong enough to try to get up. Each time she told him no. Each time, he insisted on trying. So, lips tight, she would sponge the sweat from his face and glare at him as he worked to get up. Although, lately, she had to admit that the last couple of times he’d gotten up, he’d actually stayed up awhile. Definitely an improvement.
A knock sounded on her door. “Come on in.”
Anna stuck her head in. “Good morning.”
Pulling her hair up into her functional ponytail, she mumbled around the rubber band she’d stuck in her mouth, “Morning. What brings you here so bright and early?”
“We had a new kid show up on our doorstep this morning.”
Sadness shifted through her. She pulled the band from her mouth and wrapped it around the mass she held. “Oh. What happened this time?”
“I’m not sure.” Anna planted herself on the bed. “He’s not saying a whole lot. Just that his father died a couple of years ago and he has no other family. His name is Jonathas and he’s seventeen years old. He’s asking for a place to stay until he can find some work. I told him the rules, and he agreed to abide by them.”
“Does he like construction? We could use some more workers to help with our new wing.” Amy realized with a start she was using words such as we and our in conjunction with the orphanage. In such a short time, she already felt she belonged.
Anna’s eye’s brightened. “That’s true. I’ll ask him. Thanks for thinking of it.”
“Not a problem.”
Anna wiggled her eyebrows. “I have another reason for being here. He came looking for you.”
“Who?” Amy asked, tongue in cheek. She knew exactly who he was.
“You know who.”
“I’ll be sure to find him shortly,” she promised, turning away to hide the blush creeping up her neck. But still, tenderness filled Amy. Over the last few weeks, she’d come to care for the quiet, sometimes angry man—in spite of the fact that he drove her crazy with his stubborn independence.
“I told him you would be looking forward to having lunch with him.”
“Anna!” Amy was fiery red at this point. She tossed the towel at her friend, smacking her in the face with it. Then the two women burst out laughing. It felt good. Thank you, Lord, for laughter and friends in unexpected places.
Juan gripped the twenty-pound weight in his left arm, the weaker of the two, and hefted. Sweat dripped, his elbow dug into the thigh muscle right above his knee and he groaned. But he curled his arm up for a final count of twenty-five. He huffed, letting his arm drop. The weight clanked to the mat.
“Good job, there.”
Juan looked up to see Lucas watching him with a concerned expression. “Hey,” he grunted.
“You’re pushing it a bit, aren’t you?” Lucas asked.
Juan sucked in a deep breath. “Yep. Have to.” In the weight room, off the now-empty gymnasium, he gave it his all, determined to regain his strength—again. The room had only been finished a week before the illness had started. The window stood open behind him, pulling out the smell of fresh wood and paint, replacing it with the muggy, humid air of the jungle. With his right hand, he massaged his quivering left bicep. “I can’t let a little virus set me back on all the progress I’ve made.”
“If you’re not careful, you’re going to pull or rupture something and undo all my hard work.” Lucas’s tone was dry, sarcastic.
Juan felt his laughter spurt in spite of himself. “Your hard work?”
Lucas strolled over to sit beside him on the bench. “Yeah, man. I didn’t save your hide just to let you kill yourself, you know.”
Juan felt the smile pulling the corner of his mouth. During the past year, the only thing that had kept him sane had been Lucas’s dry sense of humor and sarcastic wit. He grabbed a scratchy towel and dried his face. “You know, I’ve never asked, and you’ve never said, but why did you fight so hard to save me? Anna told me how you sacrificed, gave up sleep, sometimes food, to spend hours trying to wake me up. Doing what needed to be done with my joints and muscles, to keep them from atrophying.” Juan dropped the towel and looked his friend in the eye. “Why?”
Lucas shrugged, looked away. “Because.”
“Because?”
“You were fighting too hard to live. How could I let you die?”
Juan had a feeling there was more to the story. “You know, Lucas, you’re a real private person, and I respect that, but can’t you give me a little more?”
Lucas sighed. “Chalk it up to a personal tragedy I didn’t want to see happen again. My brother died in a fire—and I was too late to save him.”
“Is that why you’re so angry at God?”
“Partly.”
“Do you believe in Him?”
Pursing his lips, Lucas nodded. “Yeah, I believe in Him.”
That was all Juan was going to get from the man, he could tell. He changed the subject. “What do you think about the new nurse, Amy?”
Lucas cut his eyes to Juan, and Juan felt a flush start up his cheeks. To hide it, he leaned over to pick up the weight he’d just recently dropped. This time, he used his right hand.
“Why? You like her?”
Juan heard the smile in the doctor’s question and couldn’t help the snicker that escaped. “Do I like her?”
Lucas laughed. “I could set you up, you know.”
“I don’t want to be set up,” Juan protested. “I just wondered what you thought about her.”
“She’s pretty,” Lucas admitted.
“I can see that,” Juan muttered, easily picturing her straight, perfectly cut blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes. The dimples in each cheek made his insides curl every time she flashed him a genuine smile. “I mean, what do think of her? Her personality? Her character? Would she be interested in someone who’ll have…who can’t…” He trailed off, embarrassed to express his thoughts even to his best friend.
Lucas became serious. “Someone who’ll have scars the rest of his life and can’t remember who he is?” Lucas finished the sentence for him.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, focusing on curling the weight so he didn’t have to look at Lucas.
“Well, I’ve only been around her for a few weeks, but I would say that she’s the real deal. She’s genuine, compassionate, great with kids…and she’s hurting—maybe, healing. Sometimes her eyes are sad. But, she doesn’t let it interfere with what she wants to get accomplished.” Lucas punched him in the arm lightly. “I also think she’s probably as stubborn as you are. She doesn’t take no for an answer, or have you already noticed that?”
Juan snorted. “I’ve noticed.”
“I figured you had. I’m also pretty sure she’s a Christian.”
“Why do you say that?” Juan looked up, startled. His friend never discussed religion. Avoided the topic as if it would contaminate him to