A Sheltering Heart. Terri Reed

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      “Derek’s here to learn all the different aspects of the clinic’s mission and duties. I think starting here would be beneficial for him,” Gwen told Mya, the cook, before turning her gaze to Derek, prepared to see anger or disbelief in his expression.

      Instead, amusement danced in his green eyes. Gwen blinked as confusion scattered her train of thought. Giving herself a mental shake, she said, “Each team member takes a turn helping in the kitchen. We feed not only ourselves but the whole village when we are here.”

      “Sounds like a plan,” he said. “So, Mya, how can I help?”

      Gwen watched the intense way Derek listened and asked questions as Mya explained the process of feeding an entire village of people. Pleasure swelled in her chest. He really was interested in what they were doing. That was good. Really good.

      Showing him the importance of the work would be that much easier.

      And keeping a professional attitude toward him that much harder.

      TERRI REED

      grew up in a small town nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. To entertain herself, she created stories in her head and when she put those stories to paper, her teachers in grade school, high school and college encouraged her imagination. Living in Italy as an exchange student whetted her appetite for travel, and modeling in New York, Chicago and San Francisco gave her a love for the big city, as well. From a young age she attended church but it wasn’t until her thirties that she really understood the meaning of a faith-filled life. Now living in Portland, Oregon, with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children, a rambunctious Australian shepherd and an array of other critters, she feels blessed to be able to share her stories and her faith with the world. She loves to hear from readers at P.O. Box 19555, Portland, OR 97280.

      A Sheltering Heart

      Terri Reed

      He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said,

      “From his innermost being shall flow rivers of living water.”

      —John 7:38

      For my children. Thank you for teaching me how to be a mother and for blessing me with unconditional love. Leah and Lissa, as always, you rock!

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Epilogue

      Letter to Reader

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      Gwen Yates checked the brown leather-banded watch on her wrist. Again. “Where are they?”

      Okay, so it had only been all of thirty seconds since the last time she checked but still…where were her boss and his son? The group’s flight would leave in less than twenty minutes and they all still had to get through security.

      Her gaze scanned the crowded, sun-drenched Seattle airport terminal, searching through the throng of travelers for Dr. Ross Harper’s distinctive white hair and towering frame.

      “Probably stuck in traffic,” offered Gwen’s colleague, Joyce Kincaid.

      The tall, athletic woman stood guard over her duffel bag and leaned against the wall of windows separating the foot traffic and the gift shop of SeaTac Airport. Joyce’s short brown hair stuck out in tufts from beneath the brim of a khaki-green hat. She held a medical journal on childhood diseases.

      Gwen admired Joyce’s dedication in keeping abreast of changes in her field of pediatrics. Though Joyce had ten years on Gwen, they shared a bond of determination to be the best they could be in each of their chosen fields.

      Ned Leeds, another colleague, nodded his balding head. “Monday morning. Slow commute.”

      His distinct abrupt way of communicating never failed to astound Gwen, even though his estimate was more than accurate for the Seattle traffic. The short, forty-something surgeon had made it clear in the beginning of her tenure at Harper Clinic that he didn’t waste his breath on trivial conversation. In the three years since Gwen had joined their clinic’s staff as a physician’s assistant, she had yet to hear the man say more than a four-word sentence.

      Gwen turned her gaze back toward the ticket area. Dr. Harper would have allowed time for traffic. Something wasn’t right. She toyed with the boarding pass in her hand. “Hey, Craig, do you have your cell on you?”

      The fourth member of their team sat on the floor with his back against the wall. Craig Samuels, a twenty-five-year-old intern at Harper Clinic, reached into the outside pouch of the backpack sitting beside him and pulled out a small black flip phone. “Hit number three to auto-dial the doc’s cell.”

      As Gwen flipped the phone open, the gate agent announced their flight to London would board soon. Her stomach contracted with anxiety. Where was Dr. Harper? Usually, her boss was prompt and expected others to follow suit.

      She listened to the phone ringing. He was probably late because of his son, Derek, the unexpected add-on to this trip.

      Gwen didn’t agree with her boss that the new CEO of Dr. Harper’s brainchild, Hands of Healing International, should join the team on this particular mission. Son of the founder notwithstanding, the man hadn’t even been in his position for more than six months and had failed to show up on time to the training classes to boot.

      Gwen had received the disturbing impression that Derek was only biding his time, trying to please his father, until something bigger and better came along.

      Gwen’s limited dealings with Derek, Dr. Harper’s only child, had left an indelible impression. There was a recklessness to him that was disturbing, and she didn’t like his intense way of looking at her as if she were some unexplainable virus strain that needed to be studied.

      Not to mention the undercurrent of competition that charged the air whenever he was present. She had no clue what prize he wanted, but she’d decided not long after he’d come aboard that minimal contact was the best option.

      “Harper.”

      The deep male voice rattled Gwen from her thoughts.

      Derek.

      “Where are you?” she asked.

      “Just pulling up. There was an accident on I-5.”

      Thankful Dr. Harper and his son weren’t the ones in the accident, she let out a relieved breath. “We’re waiting at the security checkpoint.”

      “See you in a few.” The phone went dead.

      Gwen snapped the small handheld phone closed and handed it back to Craig. “They’re on their way.”

      Joyce pushed off from the wall and snagged her duffel bag by the strap. “Let’s get in line.”

      The rest of the group picked up their bags and moved to the end of the long line of people waiting to enter the roped-off area for the security check.

      Craig tried to reassure Gwen. “No need to worry. They’ll make it.”