A Brush of Wings Read online

  He looked at her then and spoke the first words he’d said since she turned him down. “You know something, Mary Catherine?”

  She waited.

  “I don’t believe you.” He leaned in and slowly kissed her cheek.

  “Marcus, I—”

  “I don’t.” He caught her tear with his thumb. “Your eyes say something else.” Tears gathered in his eyes, too. He smiled and stepped back, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Be safe.” A few steps farther and he mouthed one last word. “Goodbye.”

  She raised her hand. “Bye.”

  And then, like she’d done too many times already, she watched Marcus turn around and walk past the ticketing counter through the double doors and outside. She had no idea where he was going. He still had a few hours before his flight back to Arizona.

  Her tears came harder then, and sobs overcame her. Marcus . . . I didn’t mean it. You were right. Mary Catherine wanted to run after him more than she wanted her next breath. She waited to see if he’d turn around and come back, if he’d beg her to be honest and tell him why she wouldn’t love him.

  But this time he didn’t come for her. The beautiful unthinkable moment was over.

  Mary Catherine dried her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater, took hold of her carry-on bag, and headed for security. Every step put distance between them. This time Marcus was truly a part of her past. Running after him would do neither of them any good. She had a plan, and she needed to work it. Africa would be her swan song, her final adventure, her last prayer.

  But her final act of love was a sacrifice only she would understand.

  Letting go of Marcus Dillinger.

  THE EVIL PRESENCE around the airport was palpable. Beck could feel it. The whirring of leathery wings and dark shadowy figures. He waited at the airport, watching Marcus cross the street and step into a cab. The man was clearly devastated.

  His sunglasses did nothing to hide the fact.

  Beck felt the weight of the loss. Today had been a disaster. The entire mission was in jeopardy. Dressed as the businessman again, Beck stayed close to Mary Catherine, seated at the same gate, praying for her health, her heart, her trip. Prayer was his strongest weapon now. It always would be.

  Especially when the task ahead appeared impossible. Getting Mary Catherine back to Los Angeles.

  He watched Mary Catherine as she boarded the plane, one of the last ones on. She kept to herself, talking only when necessary. Clearly she missed Marcus the way he missed her. Beck felt the pain of human heartache. So much pain.

  When the plane was boarded and the gate shut, Beck remained. Praying. Begging God for a next move. Some way to keep the mission on track.

  Suddenly, he felt a brush of wings.

  “The plane.” It was Jag, beside him. “It’s in danger.”

  Beck felt the urgency. “Let’s go.”

  A minute later they were dressed as mechanics, complete with heavy headphones. They headed for Mary Catherine’s plane. Beck began to jog. “Hurry.”

  The jet’s engines were running, and the pilot was about to back up. Jag and Beck began running toward the guy, waving their arms. The noise was louder than anything Beck had heard on Earth.

  Jag pointed to the plane and held up credentials showing he was a lead engineer. Beck did the same. The man signaled to the pilots and like that one of them killed the engines.

  Jag moved quickly, long strides, stern face. The tarmac was still loud, so Jag yelled his orders. “Get the other mechanics over here.”

  “Yes, sir,” the man shouted in response. He looked confused. “What is it?”

  “Something’s wrong with the engine.” Jag pointed to the plane’s right side. “We just reviewed the inspection report.” He yelled again. “Damaged fuel line.”

  Beck felt sick to his stomach. The 747 would’ve gotten partway over the Atlantic and run out of fuel.

  The groundsman listened to his radio. “They’re on the way. Any minute.” His face was a grayish white. “Thank you. This . . . this wouldn’t have been good.”

  Beck felt chills run down his arms and legs. The work of the enemy. No wonder he’d felt a sense of evil around the airport. The dark one planned to take down Mary Catherine’s plane. And if that had happened, the mission would be over.

  Failed for this generation and generations to come.

  Again he felt a brush of wings.

  Beck looked up and his soul flooded with relief. Not one angel, but an army of angels. Strong and capable. The airport was being surrounded. Beck exchanged a look with Jag. Mary Catherine’s flight would be safe. Darkness would not have the final word.

  Not today.

  Not ever.

  9

  MARY CATHERINE HAD BEEN gone forty-four days. Marcus had counted every lonely one of them, but today he made a decision. He had to let her go. After she didn’t respond to his first email, he kept hoping. But now . . . well, now he had to be honest with himself. If she didn’t want him, then he wouldn’t email her.

  What was the point?

  Marcus pulled into the parking lot of Hotel Bel-Air and left his car with the valet attendant. He was back in Los Angeles, the season under way. Today was the middle of a three-day break, so several of his teammates and their wives were meeting for dinner.

  Tyler wouldn’t be here tonight. Marcus smiled to himself as he slipped his wallet in his front pocket and headed inside. Monday was the big ask. Sami had no idea, at least that was Tyler’s hope. His plan was perfect. Last night the two of them had hung out late, talking on Marcus’s back porch. Tyler had shared his exact plans.

  Marcus had listened to every word of his friend’s excitement. But he wasn’t perfectly focused. Not with his feet on the deck where he and Mary Catherine had danced that long-ago night. Every glimpse of the stars made him think of her. Maybe it always would.

  The Hotel Bel-Air was well known for many reasons, but particularly because of the Wolfgang Puck restaurant, tucked away off the main lobby. The place was a favorite for celebrities and athletes looking for a more private dinner.

  He checked in with the hostess and she led him to the table. Halfway there, at the back, Marcus spotted Dayne Matthews, an actor and director well known in Hollywood. Dayne was a Dodgers fan, and he and his wife, Katy, had come to the first home game a month ago.

  They had joined Marcus and Tyler and several other players for devotions before the game. Marcus had a feeling he and Dayne would be good friends in time. He walked to their table and patted Dayne on the shoulder. “Hey!”

  “Marcus.” Dayne grinned and rose to his feet. The two shook hands as Katy stood and joined them. “We were just talking about how much fun we had at that game.”

  “Come to another one.” Marcus hugged Katy. “You two are always welcome.”

  “I’ll check the schedule.” Dayne put his arm around his wife. “I think I told you we’re here doing prep for a film. Shooting it in Indiana, but still a few more weeks of work here.”

  “I always wanted to be in a movie.” Marcus chuckled. “I’ll have to audition one of these days.”

  “Listen.” Dayne laughed. “Consider yourself in. I’ll find a place for you.”

  They chatted for another minute before Marcus bid his new friends farewell. “Text me. Let’s get together soon! We have home games the end of next week.”

  “I’ll do it.” Dayne waved, and his wife did the same.

  Such nice people, Marcus thought. Mary Catherine would love them. It took him another ten seconds before he corrected himself. Mary Catherine would never meet them. Because Marcus would never see her again—at least if Mary Catherine had her way.

  He reached the small back room where the Dodgers group was gathered. Four players and their wives. And one of the wives had brought a friend. A single girl about the same age as Marcus. His teammate had hinted this might happen. It was fine.

  Marcus would play the part for a night.

  The evening was great. Good fr
iends, interesting small talk. The single girl sat across from Marcus and asked a dozen questions about his life, his past, his love of baseball, his love of Los Angeles.

  A couple of times Marcus had to remind himself he wasn’t on the field or in the clubhouse being interviewed. At the end of the night he shook the woman’s hand and thanked everyone for inviting him. He needed to get home. Things to do.

  Which wasn’t quite honest.

  Sure, he had laundry and an episode of Storm Chasers to watch. He would probably read the last email he sent to Mary Catherine one more time—looking for reasons why she would’ve avoided answering him. Again. But the truth was, he couldn’t handle another ten minutes with the single girl. She was nice and witty, friendly, and connected to his world.

  But she wasn’t Mary Catherine.

  She never would be.

  SAMI HOPED TO MAKE IT to each of the Dodgers home games this year. There were eighty-one of them, so she might miss a few. But the best part was that Tyler could sit with her—unless he was needed in the bullpen, overseeing warm-ups for a pitching change.

  Otherwise, he did his work with the pitchers during the week, and on game days he and Sami had the best seats in the house. From there he would study his athletes, making notes on future coaching decisions and adjustments.

  Sami loved baseball.

  But probably not enough to travel to away games, something Tyler completely understood. She used those nights to work on projects for the Youth Center. Sometimes she hung out during open gym or took a few of the teen girls to dinner.

  This week, though, the Youth Center was quiet and her apartment even quieter. She missed Mary Catherine so much, she practically hated going home. So when Tyler invited her to fly up to San Francisco for the two-game stand against the Giants, Sami was thrilled.

  Tyler had to get there early for a team practice. Now it was four o’clock and she was just stepping off the plane at the San Francisco International Airport. She spotted him as soon as she reached baggage claim. He looked like the boy she’d fallen in love with back in high school. Tall and blond, tan and athletic.

  And he was holding a bouquet of red roses.

  She hurried to him, drawn by his familiar smile and the love in his eyes. When the Dodgers had back-to-back road trips, they might go a few weeks without seeing each other. But recently, they’d spent more time together. Biking on Santa Monica Beach, having picnics on the grassy knoll in front of Pepperdine University.

  Sami couldn’t imagine her life without him.

  They hugged and Tyler handed her the flowers. “You look beautiful.”

  “Mmm, thanks.” She smelled the roses. “You spoil me.”

  His eyes held hers. “You make it easy.”

  Once Sami had her bag they headed for the ball field. It was supposed to be chilly tonight, so she grabbed her jacket but left the flowers and bag in his rental car. An hour later, after warm-ups, Tyler joined her to watch the game. Marcus was pitching today and from the first inning it was an easy win for the Dodgers. Tyler was only called down to the field once in the fourth inning to help Marcus with an adjustment. After that he put his arm around her. “I have a feeling this is going to be a good night.”

  Sami loved being with Tyler. It was easy to forget they’d ever been apart. She smiled up at him. “It already is.” The early evening breeze was cool off the bay. Sami was glad for her jacket. “I’m with you . . . and we’re winning!”

  “By six runs.” Tyler laughed. “I’ll take it.” He lowered his arm and took hold of her hand instead. “What do you hear from Mary Catherine?”

  “Not a lot.” Sami thought about her friend’s last email, almost a week ago now. “She’s working all day, every day with the kids. There’re a few new full-time volunteers—so that helps.” Sami paused. “She loves it, she keeps saying that. But she never talks about herself, whether she’s lonely or anxious. It’s not like talking to her in person.”

  “She’s not one to complain, whatever’s happening.” Tyler kept his eyes on the pitching mound. “Marcus is on fire tonight.”

  “Like always.” Sami studied their friend. “Does he talk about her?”

  “Not as much.” Tyler sighed. “The shutdown when he flew to Nashville to see her was the last straw. You can’t force someone to care for you. That’s what he says when Mary Catherine’s name comes up.”

  “So sad.” Sami leaned forward, her eyes still on Marcus. “I know she cares. He does, too.”

  “Yeah.” Tyler paused. “He talked about her again Friday night. Some of the guys tried to set him up, nothing serious. When he came home he said the girl was great. She just wasn’t Mary Catherine.”

  Sami let that settle in her heart for a minute. “I keep thinking when she comes back from Uganda . . . maybe the two of them . . .” She sat up straight and looked at Tyler again. “I don’t know.”

  “Marcus is afraid she might stay in Africa.” He shook his head. “She literally gave him no hope.”

  “Poor guy. The whole thing doesn’t make sense.” In her last three emails to her friend, Sami had asked about Mary Catherine’s heart and her health. It was the one question she never answered. Another reason Sami was starting to feel concerned.

  Marcus struck out the side as they headed into the top of the eighth inning. The Dodgers’ lead hadn’t changed. Her conversation with Tyler drifted to the Youth Center and the success of Sami’s teen mentor program.

  Sami felt the familiar joy when it came to the girls. “These kids are really opening up. They’re asking about God and what it looks like to live for Him.” She thought about the changes in the girls. “God’s blessing it beyond my imagination.” She hesitated. “All except Lexy.”

  “Still?” Tyler looked disappointed. Lexy was important to him, too. “I’ve been praying for her.”

  “She needs it. One of the girls said she saw Lexy hanging out with the new gang leader.” Sami looked at Tyler. “I think she’d come to the group if Mary Catherine were there. But the rest of us . . . she doesn’t feel connected. Not to anyone but the gang.”

  “Her story isn’t over yet.” Tyler pulled Sami close, slipping his arm around her shoulders again.

  “True. God loves that girl . . . I know that much. He loves them all.” Sami snuggled in close to Tyler. Being in his arms made the rest of the world’s troubles fall away.

  After the Dodgers won, Sami expected a group of them might go to dinner. She still hadn’t checked into her hotel room, but that could come later. Instead, after they congratulated Marcus and the team, Tyler pulled her aside.

  “You ready?” His eyes sparkled in the stadium lights.

  “For dinner?” Sami wasn’t sure what he meant. He almost looked nervous, the way he had when they first got back together a year ago.

  “For whatever comes next.” He grinned and pulled her into a hug. As he eased back he looked intently at her. “Are you ready, Sami?”

  Chills ran down her arms. What was he talking about? Why the mystery? She gave him the answer that filled her heart. “If I’m with you, I’m ready. Whatever it is.”

  “Come on.” He took her hand. “I have a feeling we’ll remember this night forever.”

  She grinned. “Am I supposed to guess?”

  He laughed. “Just trust me.”

  Sami had no idea what was ahead, but as they walked to his rental car she could feel Tyler’s excitement, which only added to hers.

  Nights like this Sami could hardly believe the miracle God had worked to bring them together again. Not just in Tyler’s life, but in hers. She remembered a few years ago when she wished she was more like Mary Catherine. Finding adventure in every day, seizing life, and creating reasons to laugh. Now she had it. That’s how Tyler made her feel.

  Whatever tonight held, Sami could hardly wait.

  10

  MARY CATHERINE WAS HAVING the time of her life—especially today.

  Mondays were the one day each week when Mary Catherine introduced
the children at the orphanage to new music. It was her favorite day, not because she was particularly gifted at singing or teaching songs. But because she loved watching the children’s faces light up.

  Music spoke to their young souls the way it spoke to Mary Catherine. Whatever trouble she faced, praising God through song lifted the darkness. Hope and joy could breathe again when they sang to the Lord.

  Twenty-two little faces stared up at her from their desks. “Are we ready for a new song?”

  The kids clapped their hands, their eyes bright with excitement. “Yes!” They spoke all at once. “Please, Miss Kat.”

  Mary Catherine laughed. The children ranged in age from two to twelve. Her name was difficult for some of the younger kids, so she’d found something that worked for all of them—Miss Kat. She loved how it sounded with their beautiful accents. English was an official language of the people in Uganda. Still, with their lilt Mary Catherine sometimes had to work to understand them.

  “Okay, today it’s a song with letters. Does anyone know how to spell the word ‘Bible’?” She pulled a stool up to the front of the room. Sitting while teaching was one way she could conserve energy.

  A thin, long-legged girl in the back row raised her hand. She was a smart child, maybe ten years old, one of the first admitted to the orphanage. Her parents had both died of AIDS and she was losing a battle with starvation when she was brought in. Now she was making progress toward health.

  “Bacia, go ahead.” Mary Catherine smiled at the girl. “Spell Bible for us.”

  Bacia stood, her head high, shoulders back. “B-i-b-l-e. Bible.” She smiled, proud and confident. “That is how it is spelled, Miss Kat.”

  Where the child had learned to spell, Mary Catherine had no idea. She clapped and motioned for the rest of the kids to join in. “That’s wonderful, Bacia. Very good.” Some of the kids cheered, others stood and danced around their desks, clapping their approval.