Chapter 35
“Are you sure we didn’t forget anything?” Abigail opened her purse as Simeon pulled out of the driveway, though she couldn’t have said what she was looking for.
“Hmm?” Simeon pulled onto the street, and Abigail frowned. He’d seemed distracted the last few days, and he hadn’t even packed until yesterday. She’d tried to tell herself he was just preoccupied by all the things he had to arrange at work to be able to take almost two weeks off, but a not-so-tiny part of her wondered if he was having second thoughts about the trip.
“We can cancel the trip if you have too much work to do,” she offered, just in case.
“What?” Simeon’s head jerked toward her. “We’re going.” He linked his fingers into hers. “And yes, I’m sure we didn’t forget anything. Anyway, all I need is you, and I’ll be content.”
Abigail relaxed a little into her seat. That sounded more like the Simeon she’d grown used to. “Well, you might want your passport too; otherwise, you won’t be coming with me.”
“My passport.” Simeon braked hard enough that Abigail braced herself against the dashboard.
“Relax.” She readjusted in her seat so she could grip his hand better. “I packed it.”
“You’re wonderful, did you know that?” Simeon’s smile erased the lines of worry that had furrowed his brow for the past few days. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
The words seemed to carry more weight than the lighthearted conversation warranted, but Abigail soaked them up. This man really did love her, there was no question about that. And she was starting to think she might—
“Zeb came to talk the other day, did I tell you that?”
“No.” Abigail turned to him. “How’s he doing?”
Simeon sighed. “He’s not sleeping. Having a hard time focusing. All the usual symptoms of grief.”
They spent the rest of the drive to the airport talking about Zeb and his grief, about Benjamin and Summer—whom the young Calvano still refused to talk about—about Joseph and Ava and Asher and Ireland and their babies, about Lydia and Liam’s wedding, which would be only a week after they returned.
The farther they got from River Falls, the more Simeon seemed to relax.
At the airport, Abigail let him take the lead, since she had no recollection of how getting on a flight worked. It wasn’t until they’d boarded the plane and settled into their seats that the turbo-powered butterflies kicked in.
“Am I afraid to fly?” she asked Simeon.
He looked at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know. Are you?”
She gave a shaky laugh. “I think I might be.”
Just then, the plane started to move, and Abigail grabbed Simeon’s arm. “Is it too late to get off?”
He chuckled but slid as close to her as he could with the armrest between them. “It’s okay. I’m right here with you.”
Abigail knew there was nothing he could do to keep the plane in the air, any more than she could. But still, she somehow felt better, just knowing he was with her.
The plane started its descent, and Simeon turned off the book he’d been listening to. He and Abigail had spent the first few hours of the flight talking. Then they’d watched a movie, and she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder somewhere in the middle of it.
Simeon glanced at her now, reveling in the chance to just be with her—without the distractions and problems of home. He told himself for the hundredth time that he wasn’t running away from his issues with Wendy. He was just giving them some distance—giving Wendy some time and space to find a new counselor.
He pressed a fist to his lips, wishing he could forget that he’d ever felt her lips there. He’d called Everlee almost immediately after it had happened, both so there’d be a record of it and to ask her to take over Wendy’s counseling.
You have to tell Abigail. The thought hadn’t left him alone for the past four days. But he thrust it aside. There was no way he was going to ruin their trip by telling Abigail something like that. Besides, it was a work problem—one he’d already dealt with. He had full confidence that by the time he and Abigail returned to River Falls, the separation, along with Everlee’s capable counseling, would help Wendy move past her feelings for him.
The plane gave a sharp jolt, and Abigail’s eyes sprang open. “What’s happening?”
“Just some turbulence.” Simeon brushed her hair off her cheek as she sat upright. “We’re landing now.”
Abigail’s eyes widened. “We’re here? How long did I sleep?”
Simeon chuckled. “A few hours at least.”
“I’m so sorry. Were you bored?”
“Nope,” Simeon answered honestly. “I had my book to listen to. Plus, I like watching you sleep.”
The plane gave another jump, and Abigail clutched his arm.
“It’s completely normal,” he assured her. “Look out the window. We’re coming in to Quito.”
Abigail turned toward the window, and Simeon leaned closer to look over her shoulder, letting himself soak in the flowery scent of her hair.
“I didn’t realize there would be so many mountains. How are we going to land this thing?”
Simeon chuckled and dropped a kiss onto her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We don’t have to land it. We just have to sit here and enjoy the view.”
“If you say so.” But Abigail leaned back into him, and Simeon nuzzled his face into her hair.
“This is amazing,” Abigail breathed as they passed over the crinkled hills and canyons. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. I mean—” She sat up, but Simeon pulled her back to him.
“It’s okay. I know what you mean. And I’m a little jealous of you, getting to experience all of this for the first time again.”
They watched the ground draw closer, and then the plane bumped to a relatively smooth landing. They disembarked and managed to locate their luggage through the jostling crowds. Then Simeon led Abigail through the airport to the shuttle that would carry them south to Ba?os, a small city nestled in a valley of the Andes, at the edge of the Amazon rainforest.
For the next three hours, Simeon savored every delighted expression from Abigail as she took in the volcanic peaks surrounding them with rough rock formations and lush greenery.
“It’s like a different world,” she marveled as they passed through the thick mists of the cloud forest north of Ba?os.
Simeon pulled her in closer. “It changed my world.”
He could only thank God for knowing exactly what—exactly who—he needed when he’d brought Abigail into his life.
The sun soon fell, but still Abigail watched the scenery go by, seeming eager to soak it all in. When the driver announced that they had arrived in Ba?os, Simeon was almost disappointed. He could have sat snuggled here with her all night.
“Ba?os?” Abigail turned to Simeon with a wrinkled nose. “I thought that meant bathroom.”
From up front, the driver broke into loud chortles. “Ba?os de Agua Santa,” Simeon clarified. “Baths of Sacred Water. It’s named for its hot springs.”
“Ah. That sounds much nicer.”
The driver wound through the streets lined by brightly painted storefronts and apartments, past a large church and countless signs for llapingachos, the fried potato patties he and Abigail had devoured the first time they were here. At last, he pulled up to the address Simeon had given him.
Pastor Mateo’s house was as welcoming as Simeon remembered. Warm light spilled from the small building, highlighting the cheerful yellow paint.
The driver got out to unload their luggage, and Simeon opened the door and stepped outside. Cool, damp air embraced him, and the last of his worries seemed to fall away. He turned to help Abigail out of the van.
“Oh. I thought it would be hot.” She wrapped her arms around herself.
Simeon pulled her into his arms, running his hands up and down her soft skin to warm her. “It’s winter here right now. Still warmer than winter at home though. It gets into the sixties during the day.” He turned to tip the driver, then picked up their bags. “Come on. We’d better get inside. I’m sure Pastor Mateo and his wife can’t wait another minute to see you.”
“Me?” Abigail looked startled.
“Oh yes.” Simeon grinned. “You were always their favorite.”
As if to prove his point, the front door burst open, and a couple in their mid-sixties rushed out. Simeon barely had time to say, “They’re going to hug you,” before Pastor Mateo’s wife Linda had thrown her arms around Abigail.
“It’s so good to see you, cari?a,” the woman with the long white braid whispered as she stroked Abigail’s back.
“You too,” Abigail whispered back, though she didn’t know why. Something about the woman’s fragrance—a mix of flowers and cooking scents—gave her that déjà vu feeling she’d gotten a few times since the accident. She tried to ignore it. After the debacle with the book she had thought was real, she’d learned not to trust the feeling.
The woman loosened her hold and held Abigail back at arm’s length, seeming to inspect her. “How are you? You’re good?” She spoke with a faint accent, barely enough for Abigail to pick up.
“I’m— Yes, I’m good.” Abigail looked to Simeon, who met her gaze with a wide grin.
“I probably should have warned you about Linda sooner,” he said with a laugh.
“What? Warned her?” Linda let go of Abigail and swatted playfully at Simeon. “I’ve never harmed a fly.”
“No.” Simeon’s grin grew. “But you sure could hug one to death.”
The man Abigail assumed must be Pastor Mateo guffawed.
“Oh, you.” Linda pulled Simeon into an equally fierce hug.
“See what I mean?” Simeon said over her head. But the way he returned the hug, Abigail could tell there was genuine affection there.
“Forgive our exuberant greeting.” Pastor Mateo’s accent was thicker than his wife’s, giving his voice a musical quality. “We’re just so happy to see you that we got carried away.” He held out a hand. “I’m Pastor Mateo. And that’s my wife Linda.”
“Abigail,” she said as she shook his hand—and then realized he already knew that. Just because she had forgotten them didn’t mean they’d forgotten her.
“Come on.” Linda’s colorful skirt swirled around her ankles as she spun toward the house. “Let’s get you settled. And then I made locro de papa.”
She swished in front of them, and Abigail turned to Simeon. “Something potato, right?”
He grinned. “Yep. Potato soup.” He gestured for her to follow Linda, and she heard him and Pastor Mateo fall into step behind them.
Linda ushered her through the door, and Abigail stepped into the small but welcoming space.
“The bedrooms are upstairs.” Linda gestured to a narrow stairway to the right of the door.
Abigail nodded, relieved the woman had said bedrooms. As in, more than one. She’d been wondering what the sleeping arrangements for their trip would be.
“Go on up,” Linda urged. “Your bedroom is the first one on the left.”
Abigail nodded, admiring the photos that hung on the stairway wall as she climbed. At the top, she turned to the room on the left. It was simple—just a bed and a small dresser—but painted a soothing shade of blue.
“There’s an air mattress in the closet.” Linda bustled into the room, followed by Simeon with their luggage. “I’m sorry we don’t have another room to offer you, but our granddaughter is coming in a few days to be here for vacation Bible school next week.”
“It’s no problem,” Simeon assured Linda, even while shooting Abigail a questioning look.
“Oh.” Realization hit Abigail. The air mattress was for Simeon. They were going to share a room.
She swallowed but nodded. She should probably say they didn’t need to get the air mattress out—that she and Simeon could share the bed. They were married, after all. And it would save Linda a lot of work.
But something held her back.
“Here it is,” Linda puffed as she pulled a rolled up bundle out of the closet. “We’ll set it up later. But first—” She hurried to Abigail and took her arm. “Let’s get you some soup. You must be starving.”
“Famished,” Abigail admitted as Linda led her to the stairs.
Halfway down, a picture caught her eye, and she stopped, squinting at it. A group of children posed in front of a small, squat building, all of them grinning widely. On one side of the group stood Pastor Mateo and Linda. And on the other side—
“Is that us?” She raised a hand, letting it hover over the glass.
“Yes, it is.” Linda grinned. “I love that picture.”
“Who are all the kids?”
“Students from vacation Bible school. You wouldn’t believe it, but Marco is in high school now. Hard to believe he was that little when he was in VBS.” She pointed to one of the boys.
Simeon came up behind Abigail and rested a hand on her shoulder. “He had such a crush on you. I think he was pretty devastated when you chose me over him.”
They all laughed and continued down the stairs, where Linda plied them with heaping bowls of a rich, creamy-looking soup that smelled incredible. They bowed their heads, and Pastor Mateo gave thanks for the meal before they dug in. It tasted even better than it smelled, and Abigail was content to eat and let the conversation swirl around her. But she couldn’t get that picture out of her head.
“So we helped with VBS?” she asked during a lull in the conversation.
“Oh, yes.” Linda passed her more bread. “You were wonderful with the children. I told Mateo it was perfect timing that you were coming during VBS this year, but he reminded me you’re here on vacation, not to work. And he’s right, of course.”
“Oh, we should help.” Abigail didn’t know why the idea appealed to her so much, but it did.
“Really?” Simeon paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth, sending her a look she couldn’t quite define.
“Oh. Um— I mean, unless you made other plans.” She should have asked him before volunteering their vacation away.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean, if VBS is next week, we can do all the touristy things this week and then help next week. If you’re sure you want to.”
She nodded. “It sounds fun.”
Simeon’s smile swept all the way through her before he turned to Linda and Mateo. “Sign us up.”
“Consider yourselves hired.” Pastor Mateo smiled gratefully. “One of our regular volunteers couldn’t help this year—and she usually does the work of at least two people. So you are an answer to our prayers.”
Abigail warmed at the words. She hadn’t been trying to answer anyone’s prayer—but somehow God had used her to do that anyway.
They spent the rest of the meal discussing the needs for VBS, deciding that Simeon would help with the Bible stories and games, and Abigail would help with songs and snacks.
She tried to cover her yawns as the conversation continued, but the long day of traveling was catching up with her, and she finally excused herself to go to bed.
“I’d better set up the air mattress.” Simeon got up too, resting a hand on her back as they climbed the stairs.
In their room, he unrolled the air mattress and got the pump set up while Abigail got ready for bed in the bathroom. By the time she returned to the bedroom, the air mattress was full, and Simeon was rummaging through his luggage. “I’m going to get ready for bed.” He closed the distance between them. “In case you’re asleep by the time I get back, goodnight.” He caught her lips in a long, lingering kiss.
Tired as she was, Abigail would be willing to keep kissing him all night. When he finally pulled away, he led her to the bed and pulled the covers down, tucking them around her and then bending to kiss her forehead. “Goodnight.”
“Simeon?”
He paused, halfway between standing and bending over her. “Yeah?”
It would be easy. Just tell him that he didn’t have to sleep on the uncomfortable-looking air mattress. They could share the bed.
“I’m glad we came,” she said instead.
Simeon smiled and turned out the light. “Me too.”