Refuge of the Heart, page 12
“Like the widow who shared the coins from her need, rather than the rich man who shared from his excess.”
She nodded, familiar with the Bible passage. “Not all was like that, mind you. Before the troubles, there was not as much sacrifice. We had our fill and more. But so much was destroyed that...” She lifted her shoulders in a light move. “When there is no way to keep food cold in summer or warm things in winter, it is difficult to provide, yes?”
“It would be.” He angled his look to Anna who was thoroughly engrossed in the food before her. “Was Anna too young to remember Chechnya?”
Before Lena could reply, the younger girl spouted, “I remember the cave.”
“The cave?” Mitch leaned over and wiped a bit of broth from her chin. “What cave, Minx?”
“There was no cave.” Lena’s retort brought his head around quickly.
“No?”
“No.”
“But, Lena...” Anna thinned her lips, then scrunched her brow. “I remember being squashed in the back of a cave. You whispered stories to me. Stories of princesses who rode away in a golden chariot.”
Lena lifted a spoonful of soup, but paused, “The story is right. I told it often. But there was no cave, my darling one.”
The older sister’s words did nothing to erase the younger one’s frown. “I remember it,” she insisted.
“Perhaps a dream?” Mitch suggested.
Now the child faltered. Looked unsure. “Maybe.”
“Sometimes they are very real,” agreed Mitch, but his curiosity was piqued. Was there a cave? Possibly. Lena had discounted it too quickly for his liking, but then he’d never had to live in a war-torn country surrounded by potential enemies. “How is your soup?”
“It is fine soup,” she commended him. “I will help myself.” Smiling, she reached for the ladle and scooped more into her bowl. “Anna, would you like more?”
“May I have more bread?”
“Of course.” Mitch scraped butter across another slice of bread. “You enjoyed your first piece?”
“Very much. You are a good baker, Mr. Mitch.”
Lena turned his way. “You made this?” She held her piece of bread aloft and looked at him.
“Umm... No. It’s from a bakery nearby. I’m glad you like it, though.”
“It is most delicious to melt in my mouth.” She smiled at him, then laid her hand upon his arm. “Thank you so much, Mitch. You have made this day special for us.”
Special.
Snowmen and soup. Warm bread. Damp boots lining the hearth’s edge of a toasty, wood-burning stove. Boots that were too big for her, even with man-sized socks. But she thought it extraordinary. He gave her a gentle smile and covered her hand with his. “I’m glad, Lena.”
Once again their gazes locked. Hers appreciative but tentative. His affectionate and inviting. She dropped her eyes as warmth effused her cheeks. Mitch deepened his smile. He slid his glance to her bowl. “You’re slowing down.”
“I have eaten much,” she laughed, passing a thoughtful hand over her stomach. “I may not move.”
He laughed at her twisted expression, then asked, “Speaking of food: What are you girls planning for Thanksgiving?”
“We thought, perhaps, to eat turkey?” Lena sent a look of amusement his way at the obvious answer.
“Uh huh. Where were you thinking of eating this turkey?” Before she could answer he went on, “Would you like to come to my parents’ house with me? Meet my family and share our dinner?”
Anna rose right out of her seat. “Oh, yes, Mr. Mitch. That would be fun!”
“Except we are busy that day,” interjected Lena with a stern look to Anna. “Our church hosts a dinner for people who have no place to go. We help with that.”
“What time?”
Lena turned a puzzled glance back to Mitch. “What time?”
He nodded, indicating his watch. “What time does the church do dinner?”
“It is served at one pm.”
“And when are you finished helping?”
She knit her brow as though wondering how to get around this. “Three-thirty or so.”
“Perfect,” he exclaimed. “My mother is planning dinner for six.” He didn’t flinch at the fib. No doubt his mother would plan a later dinner once he’d spoken with her. “I can pick you up and take you there when you’ve finished at the church hall.”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Mitch. That would work!” Anna grinned at his ingenuity, her curls bouncing in excitement.
“Is that all right with you, Lena?” He asked the question innocently, knowing he’d railroaded her.
She scolded Anna with a look, then made a face, undecided. “While we are honored to be asked, I must think on this.”
Anna’s face clouded instantly, sensing a negative response. Seeing his mistake, Mitch jumped in to smooth things over. “A sensible reply. And I’ll wait for your answer, Lena.”
His words relieved her, and he kicked himself for asking in front of Anna. He didn’t want Lena to feel trapped into saying yes. But he didn’t want her to say no, either. He rose. “Shall we clean up the table and pop in a movie?”
“Oh, yes. Can I pick the movie?” Anna tugged Mitch’s sleeve in excitement.
“May I pick the movie,” instructed Lena. Then she directed a gaze to Mitch’s shirtsleeve. “Is that how we gain one’s attention?”
Chastised, Anna calmed, although her feet still danced. “Mr. Mitch, may I pick out the movie, please?”
He nodded. “Much better, Minx. And yes, whatever you want from the bottom shelf next to the DVD player. A fun kids’ movie might relax your sister.”
“I am relaxed.” Lena nodded up to him, smiling.
Sure you are, he thought, watching as she carried dishes to the counter with utmost care. Except when memories sweep the light from your eyes, the smile from your lips. When your hands tremble and you think no one will see. You’re a real laid-back kind of girl, all right. And my feelings for you are growing stronger every day. Which means I better lay some groundwork. And the place to start? With my parents.
He called his mother after taking Lena and Anna back to her car.
“Mitchell! I’m glad you called, I was just thinking about Thanksgiving and wondering if I should invite Sari Mehta to join us. She’s in town alone, her parents are touring some wretched third world country and have left the poor girl stranded for the holidays. Can you imagine? Would that be all right with you?”
He was about to mess with her less-than-subtle plans to re-introduce him to the thirty-two-year-old Ivy League graduate, but he’d make it seem discreet. “The more the merrier. I know we rarely change dinner time on Thanksgiving, but I was hoping to bring a guest. Two guests, actually.”
“Two guests?” Surprise layered Marilee Sanderson’s voice.
“Yes.”
“Well, of course. These are friends?”
“Yes, again, but there’s a timing conflict. They’ve already committed to serving an early dinner at their church, so we’d have to move dinner back to accommodate that. I know we generally don’t change things—”
“Not change? That’s ridiculous, of course, the timing isn’t one bit important and if it messes up your father’s second football game of the day, he’ll just have to adjust. You said two friends, correct?”
The pressure in her voice said forced restraint held back her urge to demand more details. “Yes. My friend Lena has a little sister, Anna. I’d like to bring them both for dinner.”
“Mitch.” She paused, then sighed, happy. “Of course it’s fine, it’s wonderful. You haven’t brought anyone home since—”
Mitch picked up the obvious thread when she paused. “Since Shannon died. And I haven’t wanted to. Now I do.”
“Now you do.” A happy hum came through the phone. Mitch envisioned his mother, mentally preparing to greet Lena. Should he warn her that Lena was different?
How about first you convince Lena to come? That might be the better option.
“I’ll let Consuelo know.”
“Perfect. And tell her I’m looking forward to her hot cider. Nobody does it better.”
“I’ll pass it along.”
She wouldn’t, he knew. She’d always been jealous of his close relationship with their long-time cook and housekeeper, but he’d tell Consuelo in person on Thursday. And she’d prepare it the way she always did for him, with or without the request. Because she loved him.
Chapter Ten
Lena studied the shabby apartment that seemed more threadbare after seeing Mitch’s beautiful home. Expansive rooms, soft lights, the sturdy grace of logged walls, thick carpets, and jewel-toned rugs. Why was he befriending her? He was a rich, good-looking American who could be with anyone. Doubt swamped her.
“Lena, may we go to Mr. Mitch’s home again? I love it there so much!”
“Perhaps,” she answered in a tone that warned no begging. “Our days are quite full, I have much work, and we must count our blessings and never assume more.”
“But isn’t it right to love something so beautiful as his home, all warm and toasty?” Anna entreated. “And to wish to go there again?”
Regret churned inside Lena. This time with Mitch, so sweet and special, might set Anna up for grief. A child knew nothing of the ways of the world, romance gone amok. She should guard against further inroads to protect Anna’s fragile heart. Less risk, less loss. “It is right, Anna, but we must not let appreciation turn to greed.”
“Not ask for too much,” Anna observed.
“Exactly.”
“Then I will wish for us to go there again but I won’t be greedy when I wish it!”
Lena had no speedy comeback, no better caution. The light in Anna’s eyes said she’d become enchanted with Mitch’s good nature. Her fault, not that of the child. “That is fine, then.”
Anna’s expression said she was wishing at that very moment, while Lena struggled with how to break away from Mitch’s warm and chronic invitations. But like her sister, she was entrenched in the magic of the moment, the surging happiness of being with Mitch.
A happiness undeserved.
Was it? How could it be when it felt so right?
With joy you shall draw water from the streams of salvation...
The ancient psalm offered reassurance and hope, but surely it was written for pristine souls, unblemished by grave sin. Such words weren’t meant for her, a woman who’d done so many things, but oh— how she wished those words were hers.
Mitch called a short while later. Her heart leapt when she heard his voice. Her throat tightened. Her hands tingled. Normal romantic reactions she’d never experienced before. Now she did, and wasn’t sure if she should move forward, or go into hiding. “Mitch. It is nice to hear from you.”
He laughed. “Same here. Hey, I was wondering about Thanksgiving.”
“Yes?”
“My mother is delighted that you and Anna can join us.”
“Mitch, I—”
“And instead of getting you after the church serves dinner, I’d love to come by Thanksgiving morning and pick you and Anna up. I can take you to the church and serve with you.”
“You wish to help?”
“Helping you will be far more enjoyable than sitting around, waiting until I can see you.”
His reasoning reflected hers, but that only made things more difficult. She should be pulling back, not stepping forward, and yet moving forward was exactly what she longed to do. Still— she understood the reasons they couldn’t and shouldn’t be together. Mitch did not. “I believe there is a football game of great import on this day, isn’t there? Some of my patients at the Webster Center speak of it.”
“Football or you?” His voice brightened with humor. “Lena, that’s a no-brainer. I pick you. What time shall I pick you up, dear?”
Lena’s heart melted at the endearment.
Her papa had called her dear. “Dear one,” he would say in their native tongue, “Come and help an old man, ay?” And she would laugh and run to his side, caroling, “You’re not old, Papa.”
Then he was gone, in the prime of his life, leaving his wife and children to forage alone. Tomas Serida had been swept away by a mop-up patrol and killed while imprisoned, his body dumped into a shallow ditch not far from their village. One by one, the boys had followed suit. Taken, tortured, killed. In the end it had been just she and her mother, alone and struggling, looking for food and fuel.
Until the Russian commander took a liking to her mother. Nadia Serida’s blond good looks had drawn the man’s evil attention. His lust. He’d enslaved her in his commandeered home while his battalion occupied their small village outside of Grozny. Lena blinked hard, then physically tried to push the recollections aside.
Thoughts swamped her. Memories of captivity. Degradation. Being sold to faceless soldiers continuously. All to keep her mother alive.
And she had. Long enough to deliver Anna, at least. She leaned back against the wall, clutching the phone. How many memories came charging in simply because a man called her “dear”?
“Lena? Are you there?”
She straightened with a start, her eyes taking in the current surroundings, her mind slow to relinquish those long gone. “Yes. I am sorry, Mitch.”
Think, Lena. Think hard. What should you do? Move toward this man or run swiftly? Think. Aloud she heard herself say, “I am sure Father Dominic would appreciate the help. Sister Mariel as well. The church mission is in Ridgedale, part of The Blessed Trinity church.”
“That’s quite a drive for you,” Mitch remarked. “Ridgedale’s not close.”
“It is far, but they were kind enough to sponsor my immigration,” she told him. “It is good to take care of them, yes?”
“Definitely yes. This will give me a chance to thank them personally. May I pick you up? Take you there?”
She hesitated. This was hard, so hard. To let him in, inch by inch. She understood the danger of the situation, the irony that a man like Mitch wanted to spend time with a woman like her.
But that was only because he had no idea what she was. Who she was. She should stop this, stop it now, before things went any further. There was nothing for them, nothing that could be. She took a deep breath and found herself saying, “It would be nice to travel in your car, Mitch. We need to be there before noon. The older women are gathering earlier, but that would be hard on Anna.”
“It would,” he agreed. “This way she gets to see the Macy’s Parade.”
“It is lovely, this parade?” Lena smiled at the thought of American parades she’d seen on TV. “I hear much from others. But our television has not worked in some time. We spend our evenings with books and make believe.”
“Both of which are way better than television, Lena,” Mitch declared. “May I stop by tomorrow evening after work?”
“Tomorrow?” Lena played with the word, thinking. Every time she gave an inch, he pressed for more. “Why do you need to do this?”
“To see you.” The simple honesty of his words brought heat to her cheeks. Where was her strength, her fortitude when it came to this man? Always before she was able to avoid men who showed interest.
But she had no desire to avoid Mitch, even seeing the dangers within. Why was that? Because he was kind and strong? Handsome and warm? Because he looked at her in wonder, as if she were precious and fine?
She was none of those things, but he didn’t know that. She drew a deep breath and offered, “Then I will give you supper. You have fed us often. I would like a turn, I think.”
Mitch’s voice lightened. She could sense his smile. “What time shall I come and what shall I bring?”
“Is seven a good time? I must first get home from the Webster Center and help Anna accomplish her homework.”
“Seven’s perfect. I’ll bring dessert.”
Lena smiled and held the phone a little tighter. “Tomorrow, then.”
“Yes.”
Mitch cradled the receiver, satisfied. Eyeing his calendar, he decided that if he was actually taking some time off for the holiday, he’d better get some work done at home. With several tough, spotlight-grabbing cases coming up, he was hungry for convictions. He set to work, trying to block the sound of Lena’s voice and push the feel of her hair out of his consciousness.
It almost worked. He only pictured her face a hundred times. Imagined her laugh, envisioned her eyes, smelled her skin, soap and water clean. None of the expensive, sweet-smelling lotions others wore excessively. Just her and soap. Both sweet, both pure.
The next evening he arrived toting his extra flat-screen TV and a chocolate cream cake.
“What is this?” Lena laughed in dismay and delight as she let him in.
“A loaner. And dessert. If you can grab the dessert, I’ll handle the TV.”
“Mitchell.” Her voice was a blend of excitement and chastisement.
He moved up the stairs with care, the width of the television causing trouble on the narrow incline. He angled it through the door and over to a mid-sized dresser. Lena followed with the cake, her eyes on the set. “Mitchell, you should not have brought such an expensive thing.”
“Not expensive at all,” he corrected, picking his words with care. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was buying her affection. “It was in a spare room of my home and never gets used. I figured it would come in handy over here until you have one of your own. But only when your sister says you may,” he instructed Anna. She nodded, eyes wide, then darted a glance to her sister.
“Now, Lena?”
“It might be good to show our gratitude first.” Lena reminded her.
Anna drew a breath. “Thank you so much, Mr. Mitch.” She reached up for a hug that he returned. “May I help you?”
He nodded. “Sure. I’ll hand you the paperwork and you can give it to your sister.”
Anna nodded. “Oh, yes. I will.” With eager hands she reached for the owner’s manual he proffered.
