The Wonder of You (19 page)

He turned to the group. “She set up her camera at the Trocadéro just before sunset with her f-stop on the lowest setting for the widest aperture. Then she adjusted the bulb function for the longest shutter speed and set the camera on a tripod and timer for the steadiest shot. The tower at night displays a glorious spectacle of light, and after a few tries, she caught the most incredible shot of the lights blurring against the velvet background of the sky. Ingenious.”

He hadn’t meant to wax on, but the memory seemed to snapshot in his mind. Now he faced her. “Please say you’ll enter the contest.”

She swallowed, glanced past him, and he hadn’t realized how he’d put her on the spot. He looked at her mother, searching for reinforcement.

Ingrid wore a soft, enigmatic smile as she met his gaze.

“Yes, she’ll enter,” Grace said from her perch on the picnic table. “I agree, Roark. She’s a rare talent. And who knows but she might win.”

Amelia made a face. “I don’t know.”

“It’s five thousand dollars toward your dream. You don’t have to spend it today, but give yourself the opportunity to choose,” her mother said. “I agree with Grace. Enter. And I cast my vote for letting Roark and Amelia take the Boy Scouts into the wild. It’s only a day trip
 
—what could go wrong? Amelia’s paddled that lake with her brothers dozens of times. Besides, they’ll have their leader with them.”

Her smile was warm as it fell on Roark. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to merit the sudden favor of Ingrid Christiansen, but he returned it.

“It’s usually the den leaders who are the most trouble,” Darek said. “But, okay. Please promise you’ll bring everyone back in one piece.”

“Scout’s honor,” Roark said.

“Very good,” Ingrid said. “Now, Roark, have you ever, in all your travels, eaten a s’more?”

A
GIRL SURROUNDED
by her family, spilling over into a second church pew, the sun gleaming through the sanctuary windows as if in divine approval as the praise band rousted any sleepers with the Celtic version of “Be Thou My Vision,” shouldn’t have this much turmoil in her heart.

Especially after the way her family seemed to relax their guard around Roark the moment he spoke to Yulia. She couldn’t believe Darek would really let him
 
—them
 
—take out a group of tourists.

She had to admire the sheer courage it had taken for him to show up at Friday night’s campfire. She should have put up a bigger fight for him at the beginning.

It brought back the words he’d spoken at the coffee shop that first day. Extreme
doesn’t begin to describe what I’d do to win you back.

And when he’d told the story of that night under the Eiffel Tower
 
—how they’d
together
captured the perfect shot
 
—he had no idea that she would have never been in that place, never had the courage to venture out, if he hadn’t pushed her.

Apparently, however, he was also serious about not kissing her until she knew he meant it because when she walked him out to his car, he hadn’t leaned in, hadn’t pulled her to himself. He’d pressed a gentlemanly kiss to her hand that left her heating from the inside and wanting him to stay. To watch the stars together, wrapped in an embrace at the end of the dock.

But right then she vowed not to kiss either of them
 
—Seth or Roark
 
—until she knew in her heart what she wanted.

“‘Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart; naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.’”

Next to Amelia, Max raised his voice with the rest of her family
 
—Casper down the row and Darek in front of her with his growing tribe, Tiger standing next to him, singing his seven-year-old lungs out. Her father stood next to them, his arm casually around her mother, and the sound of their tenors raised together stirred a longing in her she couldn’t name.

Or maybe she could. . . .
I do know that I want a man who loves God.
Her words to her mother, on the deck, rose inside her. Somehow the cry of her heart had faded in the heady mix of attention from Roark and Seth.

But if she stayed quiet, she could still hear it, a whisper inside. She did want a man who wanted to love God, serve God. Be His man.

“‘Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word; I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord.’”

She felt a hand on her arm and looked over to see Vivie, in a
pretty yellow sundress, her lips painted red, looking like a throwback from the sixties. “Scoot in,” she said.

Amelia bumped Max, who moved into the row, leaving a space for at least half of Vivie.

“Can’t you ever be on time?” Amelia said.

“This is on time, darling,” she said before raising her voice into the song.

“‘Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.’”

“How’s it going with Roark?” Vivie said under the start of the next verse. “I saw him yesterday in the coffee shop. He had a lineup of admirers.”

“Thanks for that. And fine. He came to our campfire on Friday night.”

Vivie’s eyes widened.

Max nudged Amelia with his elbow and she wanted to nudge him back, something sharp right in his gut. Because yes, she’d seen Grace sneak out of their room again last night. It felt a little hypocritical for him to be singing about “Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,” when he and Grace had so much compromise going on.

“‘High King of heaven, my treasure Thou art,’” Amelia sang and glanced at him.

He frowned at her.

But movement on the far side of the sanctuary snagged her attention. Seth and his parents, sneaking into the only available room on the far end of the front row. He’d cleaned up for worship, wearing a pair of dark jeans, a white oxford with sleeves rolled to the elbows, his glorious blond hair held back with a rubber band. He towered over his mother but put his arm around her as he began to sing.

Oh, that’s right. Mother’s Day. With the resort full, Max and Grace had baked cinnamon rolls for each guest, filling the house with the redolence of Christmas. Amelia didn’t look forward to the days ahead of turning over the cabins for the coming week’s fishing groups, but seeing her parents
 
—and especially Darek
 
—overjoyed with the turnout tempered the drudgery to come.

And then she had Saturday’s outing with Roark waiting for her like a reward.

“‘Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.’”

The song ended and Pastor Dan offered greetings before they took their seats, Vivie scooting tight next to her. She breathed into Amelia’s ear, “I see Seth.”

Amelia put a finger over her lips.

Vivie rolled her eyes.

Pastor Dan continued with announcements as Amelia’s eyes drifted to Seth again
 
—old habits, hard to break. She’d probably loved him even before he started flirting with her in seventh grade, before he began to taunt her on the playground in fourth grade, all the way back to when they fought over the rocking horse in the nursery. She didn’t know a life without Seth teasing her, then later, turning his hundred-watt attention on her.

Of course they belonged together. Everyone knew it, and he seemed to sense her eyes on him because he looked over his mother’s shoulder and met her gaze. A slight smile pulled at his lips.

She couldn’t help but return it.

“Today we have special guests. Barb and David Gunderson, our missionaries to Uganda, are visiting us, bearing a report from their work at Hope Children’s Village.”

Amelia checked her program, found pictures of the missionaries
dressed in traditional African garb. Onstage, they looked all-American, David with dusty-gray hair, about the age of her father, Barb with short black hair, wearing a jean skirt and T-shirt. As a slide show played pictures of whitewashed buildings and adorable, dark-skinned children in pretty pink-and-yellow dresses or oversize Chicago Bulls T-shirts, her mind began to wander.

What if she married Seth? She might one day have her own row
 
—or two
 
—of children, carrying on the legacy of two families whose ancestors built Deep Haven. And Seth
 
—yes, he could be rough-hewn, but he had a tenderness that had made her crazy about him in high school. So when did that change?

Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe she’d simply been sidetracked by the exotic allure of Roark, the sense of adventure. But a girl couldn’t build a life on adventure, right?

What if Roark stayed in Deep Haven? The thought churned through her brain, trying to fit him into her world. What exactly would that life look like?

The slide show ended, and David gave a recap of the year’s activities.

Seth’s words began to burrow inside Amelia.
He’ll leave once he breaks your heart again.

But what if she went with him?

David introduced his wife, and Barb took the mic. Amelia shifted in her seat. Checked her watch.

“‘Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart.’ We sing it, but do we want it? Do we believe it?” Barb stepped out from behind the pulpit. “I used to sing it loud and proud, but I didn’t really want it. Sometimes I still don’t want it. God’s vision sounds terrifying. What if He sends us somewhere we don’t want to go?”

Amelia glanced again at Seth.

“We’re satisfied to get a glimpse of His vision, and then we seek out the places where we can accomplish it on our own. And frankly, that’s why we live empty, frustrated lives. Pursuing God’s vision requires faith in
God
to work it out. It means turning our hearts to Him fully, undivided, focused on loving Jesus with every part of ourselves. I can’t do that on my own. Truth is, I don’t even want to. Loving God like that takes courage and the surety that He won’t fail us.”

She looked at the audience, the first pew. “Sometimes it feels like God fails us. Many of you prayed for us when we lost our middle son. A freak moment we couldn’t have stopped
 
—he stepped on a black mamba and died in my arms, sixteen years old, his entire life ahead of him. In that moment, I believed God failed.

“But did He? God didn’t promise safety for me or my children. He didn’t promise me riches or a home. He promised me Himself. He promised me eternity. He promised me hope. That is the vision. It’s only when I lose that vision that I begin to call God a failure. I’ve lost my focus.

“I don’t know what call God has put on your life, but if you have tried to answer it on your own, you will find yourself wandering. Lost. Overwhelmed. Afraid.”

She stepped back, reached for her husband’s hand. “‘Heart of my own heart, whatever befall, still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.’ The answer is in the song.”

Next to Amelia, Max shifted, sighed, and on the other side, Vivie tapped her phone against her lap.

The congregation stood for another hymn, then the offering, and Pastor Dan dug into a sermon on the book of Mark.

I don’t know what call God has put on your life, but if you have
tried to answer it on your own, you will find yourself wandering. Lost. Overwhelmed. Afraid.

The service ended with a hymn about trusting Jesus; then Amelia found herself being towed by Vivie out to the lobby and into the bathroom.

“Okay, dish. Are you back together with Roark?” Vivie planted a hip against the sink, folded her arms.

“I don’t know. Not really. Roark and Seth had a fight, and I told them I would date them both.”

Vivie’s reaction, eyes wide, mouth open, betrayed a little of how Amelia felt, overwhelmed and foolish.

“But maybe I shouldn’t date either of them?”

“Now that’s stupid. Two swoon-worthy men vying for your heart? I wish I had that kind of attention.”

Someone pushed into the bathroom, and Vivie turned to the sink, fixing her lipstick.

“Hello, Mrs. Draper,” Amelia said and headed back to the lobby.

God’s vision sounds terrifying. What if He sends us somewhere we don’t want to go?

She spied the missionary couple surrounded by a small welcome committee in the vestibule and went to join them. Their oldest daughter looked about her age, and she stood holding hands with a young man who sported a fresh haircut. Amelia introduced herself.

“Esther,” the young woman said in return. “This is my fiancé, Mark. We’re meeting with your pastor after the service to talk about marrying us in a couple weeks.”

“Are you heading back to Uganda with your parents?”

Esther shook her head. “God called them to overseas missions.
He has different plans for us. Mark just got a job as a history teacher in Blue Earth.”

“I have a buddy I met at Vermillion from Blue Earth.” Seth’s voice cascaded over Amelia’s shoulder. He reached past her, hooked Mark’s hand. “Played football for the Buccaneers.”

Mark said something about the Blue Earth team, but Amelia missed it, caught by the way Seth seemed almost jovial. And when he turned to her, he wore the smile that could always leave her a little weak.

He drew her away from the group, pocketed her in an alcove, one hand braced on the wall. “You look pretty today.”

She did? An unexpected blush rose in her cheeks. “You look nice too.” She straightened his tie, smoothed it against his chest.

“How about later I come around and take you out for a picnic? You know, a real date.”

He smiled again, a hint of tease in his eyes, but they landed on her with such affection that he seemed a different man from the one she’d seen Thursday night on the beach.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there around five.” He winked and walked away.

Amelia looked around for her parents. Instead her gaze landed on Seb Brewster and the man he was introducing to Pastor Dan.

What was Roark doing in church? Yes, they’d visited Notre-Dame and a number of cathedrals around Europe, and he’d professed a belief in God, but other than the time she’d found him sitting alone in the middle of a monastery garden in Prague, lost in thought
 
—or maybe prayer
 
—she hadn’t seen him attend church.

He had grown up as a missionary, however.

She headed toward him, her heart thumping.

Tiger ran up to her, holding a treat in a napkin. “Want a cookie, Aunt Amelia?”

“Thanks, Tiger.” She took the cookie and looked back toward Roark, but he had just stepped outside, moving toward his car.

Pursuing God’s vision requires faith in
God
to work it out.

What if she left it up to God to decide? Because the harder she looked, the more her vision seemed to cloud over.

“I’ll take you to Europe if you want, Ames. I mean, I like castles and history. I’d go for seeing Normandy beach.” Seth sat up on the picnic blanket and threw a rock into the lake. It startled the loon feeding just offshore, and the bird disappeared under the water.

“Seth!” Amelia lowered her camera, searching the dappled lake for the loon’s black head.

“Sorry,” he said. “You can take a picture of me.” He grinned as she turned the camera on him, the sun catching his golden locks, his warm brown eyes. He wore a black T-shirt that outlined his powerful torso, those burly shoulders, thick biceps. Her lumberjack. And he did photograph well.