“Bye, Doc,” Joyce said with a wave. “See you in two weeks.”
Gwen stood by, allowing others to go through, as Derek hugged his parents. Derek hefted his big black satchel over his shoulder and slipped under the rope. “Coming, Gwen?”
Dr. Harper waved off his son. “You go ahead. I need a word with her first.”
“Okay.” To Gwen, he said, “See you on the other side.”
“Gwen, I need a huge favor,” Dr. Harper said as soon as his son was through the metal detector and fading into the crowd.
“Anything.”
There were very few people in her life she respected or trusted as much as her boss. Under his tutelage she was learning about medicine as well as life. He was a man who lived his faith.
“I need…we need…” He paused and took his wife’s hand. “We need you to show Derek what the true purpose of Hands of Healing is—that we heal more than just bodies on these trips. Through Jesus’s love, we heal hearts, as well.”
Wishing she could sit down, Gwen shifted her feet as the weight of Dr. Harper’s request pressed on her shoulders. “Wow. That’s a big order, Doc.”
“I know and I’m sorry for that.” His lined face showed his concern. “This isn’t the way I envisioned Derek’s first trip.”
“Sometimes God’s plan is better,” Sally stated softly.
A sinking feeling descended in Gwen’s stomach. Looked as if she was going to be spending a lot more time with Derek than she’d first thought. “I can only promise that I’ll try.”
Dr. Harper squeezed her hand. “That’s all we can ask.”
With a wan smile, she said goodbye and went to join her team.
Derek Harper stood and stretched his legs, thankful he’d paid to upgrade his coach ticket to first class. He couldn’t imagine cramming his six-foot-two-inch frame in a coach seat for an eight-hour transatlantic flight.
Walking down the aisle into the coach section, he noted that the others didn’t seem to mind the less comfortable accommodations of coach. Whatever.
Craig was reclined against the bulkhead with headphones on and his lips moving to the music of his portable CD player. Joyce was farther back on an aisle seat with her nose buried in the book he’d seen her reading earlier. And Ned sat in the far back and looked to be flirting with the flight attendant who was busy getting the refreshments ready.
He thought it curious they didn’t sit by each other. But then again, knowing they’d all be living closely together for the next two weeks, a little space on the flight probably was a good idea.
Not that he would be staying at the camp for the full two weeks. He had a marathon to win.
He was disappointed his father wouldn’t be there to greet him at the finish line as they’d talked about. Part of his father’s argument for Derek coming on this mission trip was that Derek could enter the elite African marathon scheduled for next week and his dad would be there to see it. Having his father watching and cheering him on always boosted his drive to win.
Without his father’s presence in the camp, though, he’d be able to slip away to train more often than he’d anticipated, which could increase his odds of winning.
Providing the redhead his father had put in charge didn’t have a problem with Derek taking off, that is. Though he doubted she would. He was only going to be in the way, considering he had no idea what to expect or how he’d be able to help. He was a businessman, not a doctor, after all. This was supposed to be an opportunity to stand back and observe—learn what he’d be administrating.
But playing along and doing what he could would go a long way to cementing the bond with his father.
Derek stopped at the aisle where Gwen reclined against the window, her head resting on a bright yellow pillow and her long red braid dangling over her shoulder. Her pale, freckled face was relaxed and her dark lashes rested alluringly against her cheek.
He wasn’t sure what to make of the woman. The few times he’d encountered her at the clinic she’d been all business.
Suddenly she opened her eyes and focused her unblinking amber gaze on him. He had the feeling she didn’t let down her guard even in sleep. He smiled. She didn’t.
Time to retreat, because he didn’t want to upset the balance of things just yet. He had a strong suspicion that his plans for finagling extra training time were going to take all his charm to keep the boss lady from interfering.
Gwen disembarked from the plane at Heathrow Airport in England with the other weary passengers. As accommodating as the airline was, she welcomed the relief of standing and walking. Her mouth felt as if she’d swallowed cotton. Long flights always depleted the moisture from her body. The flight, thankfully, had been uneventful and surprisingly restful. She’d managed to sleep for part of the way.
The only unsettling event had been when she’d found Derek standing in the aisle watching her sleep. He’d just smiled before returning to his own seat in first class. She didn’t know what to think about him or his strange behavior.
She’d been a bit miffed at first when he’d stated he didn’t “do” coach. But after thinking the situation through she realized the coach seating would be uncomfortable for someone so tall.
Plus she knew from various overheard snatches of conversations of the staff—hard to not overhear in such a small, contained atmosphere—that Derek was a successful world-class runner.
She shuffled out of the Jetway and spotted her team waiting by a large pillar.
Her team. She liked the sound of that.
She didn’t feel she’d proven herself to Dr. Harper well enough yet, but he must have some confidence that she could handle the mission, which really felt good.
As she approached the group she heard Joyce say, “I’m so glad we have this layover. Usually, we have to rush from one flight to another.”
“Hey, Gwen, where are we staying tonight?” asked Craig. He looked rumpled and in need of a shave.
“We’re booked at The Lodge hostel near Paddington Station. It’s a short Tube ride.”
“Oh, goody. The tube,” Ned said dryly.
Gwen knew the surgeon wasn’t fond of the London subway any more than he was of the New York one. He’d grown up in a borough of New York City but had moved to the Pacific Northwest to get away from the urban life.
Derek frowned. “You mean we’re staying at a hotel, right?”
Gwen adjusted the strap on her shoulder. “No. A hostel.”
He arched a brow. “Aren’t hostels like boarding houses?”
“Yes,” Gwen replied as she started walking down the concourse. The others fell into step with her.
“Believe me, the hostel we’re staying at is a palace compared to the accommodations we’ll have in Moswani,” Joyce commented.
Gwen noticed the brief hesitation in Derek’s eyes.
“Where do we stay?” he asked.
“If you’d made the meetings you’d know we’re staying in an abandoned hospital,” Gwen said over her shoulder.
“Point taken.”
She slowed and glanced at him to see if her censure had offended him.
He shrugged, clearly not offended. “This will be an adventure I’m sure to remember.”
For