A Sheltering Heart. Terri Reed

Derek murmured.

      Gwen squeezed his hand before abruptly letting go. A warmth spread through him. Oh, boy, he would be in trouble if her approval started to mean something to him.

      No way was he letting himself go down that treacherous path. Approval was one step away from commitment. He never wanted to be in a position where he could disappoint anyone.

      From now on, keeping his distance from the pretty redhead was priority number one.

      Derek decided to walk off the sudden buzz of energy making his muscles ache. He needed another hard run. He wasn’t looking forward to being cooped up on a second long flight.

      “Mind if I walk with you?” Craig asked as he fell into step with Derek.

      “Not at all.” They walked at a steady pace down the concourse. “How many trips have you been on now?”

      “This is my first with Hands of Healing. I spent the summer between high school and college in Mexico building houses with another organization.”

      “Then you and I will both get to see what this is all about.”

      Craig nodded. “I was looking forward to learning from your father.”

      “Yeah, me, too.” Disappointment was a bitter pill he’d long ago learned to swallow when it came to his father.

      “But Joyce says Gwen’s great and will have everything running smoothly.”

      “No doubt.” He glanced back toward where Gwen and the others were seated.

      Gwen struck him as super-detailed and organized. More than just her hair was braided tight. But he liked that she didn’t need gobs of makeup or flashy jewelry to draw attention to herself. She had a natural beauty that the touch of lip gloss she wore complimented rather than distracted from, as it seemed to on other women.

      Craig stopped to admire a flashy BMW coupe on display in the middle of the terminal. He whistled through his teeth as he inspected the sticker on the window. “These things are steep.”

      Derek nodded, thinking about his own little sports car at home sitting securely in his garage. He’d bought the car with the money from his first endorsement check. He’d been so anxious to show it off to his father.

      Dad had admired the car and congratulated him, but had declined a spin in the fancy ride because, as always, he had to get back to the clinic.

      Always the clinic.

      Derek had spent his whole life competing against the clinic for his dad’s attention. Maturity had taught him he would never win that race. Now, as CEO of Hands of Healing International, Derek hoped to share a common bond with his dad.

      An overhead speaker announced that their flight would soon be boarding. They rejoined their group, boarded the plane and soon were taxiing down the runway. Derek settled back in his first-class seat, mentally preparing himself for the long journey ahead and for dealing with Gwen’s distracting presence.

      The plane touched down without a hitch on the tarmac of Entebbe airport in Uganda. The darkness of night kept Derek from seeing much outside the windows of the plane as he stood, his muscles waking up from the long period of inactivity, and moved toward the staircase.

      This would be his first time on the continent of Africa. He’d traveled most of Europe, the Caribbean, North and South America, and parts of Asia. He looked forward to this experience.

      The minute he stepped out on the landing a chill swept through him. He remembered someone saying the nights were cold and the days hot. At the moment he’d have welcomed the sun.

      Walking down the portable stairs he tried to adjust to the strange scent of Africa: diesel, dirt and something unfamiliar. The heaviness in the air put pressure on his lungs. Drawing in a complete breath proved difficult. He could only hope that once away from the city the air would be fresh, less constricting.

      He stepped onto the tarmac and moved aside to wait for the others. They trickled off the plane, looking tired and moving slowly.

      Only Gwen seemed to have any energy. “We all here?”

      Wondering where she stored such perkiness, Derek nodded. “What now?”

      “This way.”

      She glided across the tarmac, the others trailing along behind her, toward the building Derek assumed was the terminal. He ruefully shook his head. Looked as if Gwen was taking charge now. Just as long as she didn’t try to take charge of him.

      The end of the building that faced the tarmac had a huge roll-up door that stood open to reveal the stark tile-and-concrete interior. Before entering the building they had to stop at the tall tables manned by uniformed airport personnel.

      After presenting their paperwork and having their passports stamped, they were permitted to enter. Derek noticed several armed military men patrolling the perimeter of the building. He wasn’t sure if he felt secure or threatened by the show of force.

      Up ahead, Gwen conversed with an African man roughly her own height, dressed in a bright yellow shirt and tan slacks. His smooth skin betrayed no hint of age. However, the concern on his face mirrored the expressions on Joyce’s, Ned’s and Craig’s faces.

      “I’m not worried about that,” Gwen said, though her brow furrowed slightly.

      “I want to make sure you are aware of the situation,” the African responded, his accented voice flowing evenly.

      “Guys?” Gwen’s question included them all.

      “What did I miss?” Derek asked.

      Gwen turned to him. “This is Moses, our contact with Family in Crisis. Moses, this is Derek Harper.”

      Derek held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

      Moses’s grip was strong. “Welcome. We are sad to hear that your father hurt himself.”

      “He was explaining that the Kony Rebels have moved into the province of Moswani. They want to liberate it from the Ugandan government,” Gwen explained.

      That didn’t sound good. “Which means…?”

      “It means we have to be careful and stick close to the clinic. War is a part of life in Africa. So, I say we go on with our mission and trust that God will protect us.”

      “I don’t plan on getting on another plane for two weeks,” Joyce commented with a bit of defiance in her tone.

      “We stay. We’re needed,” came Ned’s reply.

      Craig shrugged. “I’m game.”

      Derek didn’t know how this new development would affect his agenda, but if the others were staying… “I’m in.”

      Gwen gave a short nod. “All right, then.”

      “Come, we gather your bags.” Moses led the way to the baggage claim area where they met up with another African.

      “Hey, Ethan.” Ned shook the newcomer’s hand.

      “Glad to see you back in my country.” Ethan’s deep baritone voice reverberated through the group.

      Derek was introduced and immediately liked Ethan. There was something soothing about the man’s demeanor. Though not as tall as Moses, Ethan had a commanding presence.

      His dark hands were crisscrossed with small scars and one jagged scar slashed over his neck and disappeared into the collar of his shirt. Derek couldn’t begin to imagine how different these men’s lives were from his own.

      They all helped to load the bags of supplies they’d shipped into the back of a dusty white minivan before piling inside. It was a tight fit and not everyone had a seat belt.

      Derek squeezed by the window in the back with Craig and Ned beside him. Gwen sat directly in front of him. Her long braid hung over the back of