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  Kiara and Amy scooped them into hugs, and shared a happy laugh as the foursome tumbled into a bit of a heap on the floor. From the corner of her eye, while Amber and Alyssa trounced and giggled, Kiara caught sight of Ken who hefted several large chunks of busted up drywall and dumped them into a nearby wheelbarrow. He looked keenly into her eyes, and then the corners of his mouth lifted, forming into a smile that heated her body—and her soul.

  A short time later Kiara returned outside, seeking a private spot where she could release some small portion of the emotions that roiled through her system. At the edge of the backyard, she found what she sought—peace and sanctuary. She leaned against the thick trunk of a ripe-leafed maple tree and tears fell unheeded down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun, letting its warmth bathe her dampened cheeks, her neck and arms.

  From behind, a tender touch slid along the length of Kiara’s shoulder. This time she didn’t even flinch. She didn’t even open her eyes. Dang it. Why did the man always happen upon her when she was most exposed? In general, she didn’t cry—now it seemed that crying was a way of life. She willed herself to remain lax. Ken stepped close and stroked an errant tear onto his fingertip. “Amy was getting ready to send out a search party. She was pretty emotional, too.”

  Kiara’s senses swirled. She couldn’t find her focus or get to a safe, even center. Did she even want to? Kiara looked up, and came upon Ken’s warm, penetrating gaze. With a quirk of his lips, he handed her a handkerchief, which caused her to laugh in a shaky manner and inform, “This makes two. I never returned…”

  “Never mind that,” he interrupted.

  She wiped her eyes and absorbed the vibration of intimacy they shared. “I just need a minute.”

  Silence fell while a breeze set branches chattering. “I saw what happened—what the girls did for you and Amy.” Ken held her shoulders, furthering a connection that pulled her irrevocably forward, yet scared her as well. She wrapped her arms against her midsection, bracing against tremulous and varied emotions—gratitude, humility, and beyond all else, a longing that flowed straight from the core of her to Ken in wave after wave.

  “Stop fighting so hard,” he whispered. “I warned you this trip would stir up changes. That statement wasn’t just directed at the kids.”

  He drew her in and rubbed her back, swaying a bit as he held her close. The tears stopped, but Kiara dissolved on a sigh of pure contentment. Something foreign and completely unexpected broke free inside of her, and then took over. “Those little girls have nothing, but they made gifts. And here’s the thing—they didn’t say they were grateful for things—for their new, improved room, a prettier house, or a better way of life. They never once even mentioned those things. They made these bracelets because they were grateful to us for making their mom smile again. They did it for what we’ve done for Casey, not what we’re doing for them. Destitute as they are, that’s where their heart is. That selflessness did something to me, Ken. It makes me feel so ashamed for all the times I’ve been me-centered, or greedy.”

  The words poured out of her; emotions worked free and untangled into a fluid, silky sensation of connection between her, and the man who held her steady—and strong.

  “Kiara?” he murmured gently, after a stilling, calm silence moved past.

  “Yes?” She happily savored the beat of his heart beneath her cheek. Reluctantly she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. The peace, the all-encompassing love that defined his nature was all right there, in a sea of rich brown that penetrated, and aroused. Her pulse started to race.

  “Welcome to God’s mission on Earth, angel.”

  They separated, just as footfalls could be heard from the left. Maggie called out rather stridently, “Ken, you’re needed inside…”

  Kiara couldn’t stifle a sigh, nor avoid the pin-pricks of her own self-doubt.

  Hearts Surrender: Woodland Series

  10

  That night, after dinner, the kids settled in their cabins, hooked into handheld games, iPods and portable DVD players. Ken, meanwhile, embraced the idea of giving them a few hours of independence and opted for a peaceful, nighttime walk along the shores of Red Ridge Lake.

  He had a lot to think about.

  Granted, he had asked God for a way into Kiara’s heart, but what he’d neglected to consider were the ramifications of what he’d do if ever allowed to inhabit that space.

  Ken breathed deep of cool air laced by wood smoke from a blooming campfire. He soothed himself by closing his eyes, and turning his world to black. Instantly, an image of Kiara came to life—vivid green eyes, gorgeous, sexy and charismatic; a devastating smile, willowy stature softened by gentle curves…

  And an enormous heart in the process of a God-inspired transformation.

  Two very intriguing and appealing sides to a coin. But questions plagued him. Could she be satisfied with him in the long term? Could the woman who inspired offers of jet-set trips to Europe, who enjoyed a glittery lifestyle and active social circle, be content with a minister? A missionary with a quiet, modest life? Kiara was a woman accustomed to successful men of means. His own success was notable, to be sure, but not on an intrinsic level, or in ways modern culture would embrace.

  Demons of doubt had crept into his soul without Ken fully realizing it until now.

  The encroaching night dimmed his world as he resumed walking. A half-moon became more vivid with the passing minutes, lending milky light to the surroundings. Lost in thought, he moved along the edge of the shoreline, continuing to ponder. Muffled voices from the fire pit echoed through the quiet atmosphere. Trees stood in inky silhouette. Meanwhile, his heart thudded, a deflated feeling taking charge of his mind while he studied the angles of building a long-term relationship with Kiara.

  His pace picked up in response to the disquiet that surged, leading him to…

  A sensual shockwave.

  Nearing a dock, he came upon Kiara, and his footsteps literally stuttered until he stood at its edge, frozen still, studying her dimly-illuminated outline. She sat at the end of the structure, unguarded and unaware, dipping her feet into the water. She braced on her hands, leaning back to study the star-dusted bowl of a sky.

  Ken stepped onto the back end of the dock and moved toward her. The creak of a wooden board beneath his feet alerted her to his approach and she turned. Her smile of welcome eased any hesitance he would have felt at interrupting her solitude. In fact, the power of it slid warm through his turbulent, yearning heart.

  “This feels good,” she remarked.

  “I can imagine.” He paused about mid-way down the dock. “You probably don’t want me to interrupt.”

  “Please do. No worries.”

  He hesitated, part out of shyness, part out of an honest desire to simply leave her to her thoughts, and the peace of the night. So he fell back onto a touch of humor. “OK, but I might be tempted to continue my recruitment efforts on behalf of Woodland.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, wondering why the compulsion to reach out to her hit him with such conquering force.

  “I’m up to the challenge.” She moved over a tad—just enough to make room for him at the end of the dock.

  And God help him through complicated emotions, he literally ached to join her. Ken’s steps forward were tentative, but his heart most definitely was not.

  “If you’re sure…”

  “Ken, I’m positive.”

  Ken. Not Pastor Ken. Formalities between them eased day by day, and that fact pleased and assured him.

  So he settled next to her, shoulder to shoulder. Her skin was warm, and soft. He looked down at her as she watched the rippling waters of the lake and the silvery moonbeams that sparkled on its surface, reflecting back on her features with an ethereal glow. He slipped off his sandals and set them on the dock, dipping his feet into the lake as well.

  “So.”

  Kiara laughed. “So.”

  He sidled her a mischievous look. “So I s
lid a sleeping pill into Maggie’s coffee tonight. Hopefully that’ll put her out for a couple of hours…”

  She spun toward him, obviously shocked. Then she started to laugh, hard. “I can’t believe you just said that!”

  “I’ve known and worked with her for well over a decade. I’m allowed. I honestly adore the woman, but…”

  The dangling sentence spurred her on. “But she’s protective,” Kiara observed, a gentle kindness in her tone.

  “Yes she is. Seeing the way you and I interact obviously has her radar working overtime. It’s not you; it’s the situation. Nonetheless, I’m not going to apologize to anyone for taking the time to be with you.”

  Kiara tilted her head, watching, and despite the darkness, Ken could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. Whether his words comforted or disquieted, he couldn’t quite tell.

  “I’m flattered, by the way,” she finally said.

  The statement came at him out of nowhere, so he drew back from a world of black cashmere and focused instead on reality.

  “What?”

  She looked his way. “I want you to know I’m flattered by the idea that you think I’m capable of working in the youth ministry.”

  Ken looked after her, wishing he had a clearer read on her facial features at the moment. “From where I sit, it’s obvious. And this wouldn’t be working. It would be leading.” She attempted to laugh that comment aside, but he didn’t let her. “Remember when we first toured the camp, and saw the bathroom facilities? You aced that tricky situation like a champ. And don’t even get me started on the way you’ve helped unite our group to hard physical labor.” He paused. “That said, I’ll now officially let the topic rest.”

  “Promise?” She teased, arching a brow. In the half-light of the moon, her eyes sparkled.

  Ken busted her chops right back. “I promise. Except…”

  “Except?”

  “Except that watching you and Amy makes me think of what you must have been like at her age. Popular and sparkling—the belle of the ball.”

  That stilled their sense of levity. Kiara kept smiling, but something in the air between them went taut. Ken wasn’t sure what to make of it until Kiara replied quietly. “Nope. Not even close.”

  “Would you care to elaborate?”

  She hesitated for a moment or two, and then shrugged. “Actually, I was the high school wall flower.”

  Truly surprised, he shook his head. “Sorry. Not buying that one at all.”

  “It's true. I was a total plain-Jane.”

  “I can’t even imagine.”

  Kiara nodded. “I lived in Grosse Pointe but what most people don't realize when they hear the words Grosse Pointe is that there's a layer of people who don't live the so called luxury, high-end Grosse Pointe lifestyle. There are thousands of families who want the address, the school system, but aren’t wealthy, or at all upwardly mobile. That’s my story.”

  He watched her, silent and enthralled.

  “My mom and dad moved there for my benefit, and my younger brother's benefit, but we had a modest home. Actually, we had a slightly below modest home, to be honest. The school system opened up opportunities, but as I'm sure you've seen in working with kids, there's a clique culture when it comes to adolescence, and there are perceptions that escalate out of all proportion.”

  “You weren’t the cheerleader? The girl voted most likely to…”

  Kiara interrupted with haste. “No. Not in the least. I buried myself in academics. I fought, scraped and bled for any scholarship I could find and ended up at Michigan State. With Daveny. I couldn't afford designer labels, or drive an expensive car like a lot of my classmates. I was beneath notice, so I became invisible. High school was a lonely experience, but that loneliness paid off. It gave me the motivation to get good grades, and get a college education.”

  “Still—forgive me, Kiara, but—I can’t even picture it,” he said. “You're certainly not invisible anymore. What changed?”

  Water flowed around his feet and calves, silky and softly enticing. An inner heat pushed outward to do battle with the chill of soft breezes and cooling night air.

  The woman to whom he attributed the bloom of warmth continued. “Going to college helped open me up. It leveled the playing field, you know? I met all kinds of interesting people, but by the same token, I have to admit to going a little shallow in the process.”

  They swished their feet and let them float. Occasional fish-jumps in the water beyond added noise to a near perfect silence. Kiara continued. “I started taking my looks more seriously. I worked every second I could to earn enough money to be able to—well I'm ashamed to admit this, especially to you—”

  Her words caused him to interrupt. “Why not me, especially?”

  She looked Ken straight in the eye. Even in the deepening black, he could feel her earnestness, her hesitance. “Because I don’t want you to think any the less of me.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that, Kiara. I promise.”

  She waited a moment before speaking. “Well, I wanted to know what it felt like to fit in. To be a part of the 'A' crowd. I didn't mind working myself into exhaustion if at the end of the rainbow I might be able to pay for the perfect haircut and color—or maybe a bar night with my sorority sisters, or a manicure and pedicure. I studied, I learned, I copied whatever ‘hot’ styles I could, until ultimately I transformed.”

  “And people noticed,” Ken concluded unnecessarily. After all, how could they not? This woman was exquisite.

  Kiara gave him a quick glance then looked away. “I suppose so, yes. But the capper happened when some girlfriends and I, on a total lark, and probably after a couple too many beers at PT O'Malley's, decided to take a flirting class. I found my calling.” She laughed; it was the bubbly, appealing laugh that resonated with beauty and all things genuine. “Don't take that completely the wrong way. I wasn’t trying to be a diva, but I found the experience to be a way to open up. Lo and behold, I found out I had a personality. After being part of the woodwork for so long, I discovered friends, and socializing. I found if I took care of myself, I wasn't the ghost I had always felt like while I grew up. Thing is, the changes I experienced kind of took hold. I started to appreciate fine things, and fine men, more than I probably should have.”

  “It’s only human to want to be affirmed, Kiara, and—”

  “It's a double edged sword.” She shook her head. Silvery light shimmered off her smooth, glossy hair, causing Ken to lose focus for a moment. “Once I made a conscious effort to fit in, to mix with people, my life changed—in some ways for the better, but in many ways I lost sight of the things that bring meaning to life. I turned into that stereotypical person who gives more credence to instant gratification and easy, convenient relationships than things that are more substantial.” Her sadness caused him to snap-to.

  As a pastor, and friend, Ken was compelled to speak up on her behalf. “That’s precisely why you’re here. Now you’re working yourself to exhaustion not for notoriety, or labels and haircuts, but for the betterment of a family that had lost hope. That says just as much about you as anything from your past. OK?”

  She went still, and when she looked into his eyes, searching, he felt swept away.

  “I went without affirmation for so long that I get sucked in by the attention I’m given. It feels good to be liked by women…desired by men. It’s flattering to a hungry spirit like mine. Just like Meg in Little Women.”

  He moved as close as propriety would allow, wanting only to give her as much support and connected-warmth as possible.

  Kiara continued, her voice husky and low. “I realize, probably too late, that I’ve given away parts of myself that I wish I hadn’t. I had no idea how precious the waiting, and the finding, can be. I didn’t have faith. I didn’t believe I’d ever find a relationship that was strong, and right.”

  Like this? Ken longed to ask. Like I feel whenever I’m near you? He swallowed and grasped just enough of his
role as a pastor to say, “I believe we’re the composition of all the things we experience in the life God gives us.”

  “But I’ve been tempted to do things that aren’t right, Ken. You’ve seen that first hand, unfortunately. I’ve made some stupid choices.”

  “Welcome to humanity, Kiara Jordan,” he teased lightly, giving her a nudge. “And remember, you’ve grown from what you’ve experienced. Remember, too, that being tempted is worlds away from surrender. If you don’t believe me, check out that part in the Bible where Jesus is alone in the desert with the Devil himself.”

  They shared a smile at that.

  “What I’m getting at,” he continued, “is that the person you are is the result of everything you experience—the good and the bad. Life is about what you do with what you learn and the circumstances God gives you. Have you grown? Have you learned and evolved? As far as I can see, the answer to all those questions is yes.” He touched her cheek. “Stop carrying the weight and accept the forgiveness you’re given, Kiara. Then, ask yourself this: What would you allow yourself to write on a completely clean slate?”

  Her steady gaze stayed with his. Ken tucked an arm around her waist to both build a connection and lend her warmth and support.

  Comfort and ease settled between them for a time, until Kiara said quietly, “OK. Your turn.”

  “My turn?”

  “Yep. I want to know how you’ve managed to keep your life, your church, and your heart together after losing Barb. I think that’s an amazing accomplishment.”

  Ken could only shake his head. “That’s a God thing.” She waited on him in silence. The quiet wasn’t disconcerting, though. Instead, it soothed, and gave him a chance to evaluate, analyze. “Don’t doubt for a moment that the loneliness stings.”

  “I’m sure. Besides, you’re preaching to the choir, Pastor.” She gazed toward the heavens and he felt her shrug beneath the hold of his arm. “But look at it this way: At least you’ve known a deep, abiding love. I’m starting to wonder if I ever will. Maybe I’m just not wired to—”