What Lies Within (24 page)

“Yes sir, right away.”

He leaned back in his chair and waited.

Mason Rawlins knew he’d had a worse day, but he couldn’t remember when. First there were problems at every site he visited. Problems and frustrated clients. And while he prided himself on his ability to work through issues with people, by the time he returned to his office, he felt utterly chewed up.

And then there was Kyla.

They were supposed to go out for dinner tonight, and he’d been trying to call her all morning. He’d left several messages, but she hadn’t called him back.

He was just reaching for the phone to try her again when it rang. This had to be Kyla.

Mason lifted the receiver, her name on his lips, but a glance at the caller ID stopped him. Sam Ballat.

Shifting gears so fast he stripped them, he fell into professional mode. “Mr. Ballat. Good to hear from you again.”

“Mr. Wright. I’m calling about that project I mentioned to you the other night.”

“Yes?”

“I know I said I wanted you to oversee the whole thing, but there’s a small problem.”

Mason picked up a pen, drawing lines on the pad of paper in front of him. “Oh?”

“Yes, you see, the people who still own the building won’t accept they’ve run out of time. And now I understand they’re bringing Justice Construction in on the project.”

Mason’s pen froze. “Excuse me?”

“Really, Mr. Wright, I’d think you’d be worried about someone so important to you being in that neighborhood. Did you know there’s a gang down there determined to keep the youth center out? Taking that project on certainly doesn’t sound like a wise move to me.”

Mason pressed his lips together. “Or to me.”
What
was Kyla thinking?

“Exactly. Which is why I thought I should let you know. That property should just be razed. And when it is, you and I will have some serious business to discuss.”

“We will?”

“The owners have already agreed to sell me that property.”

“But I thought you said the owners had contacted Justice Construction.”

A pause. Mason frowned. Sam Ballat was seldom at a loss for words.

“The current owners, yes. But that will change soon. It’s a bit … complicated. At any rate, you can trust me on this, Wright. This isn’t a safe project for your Miss Justice. You’d do her—and yourself—a true service to use whatever influence you have to sway her away from the job. That is, assuming you do have influence?”

Mason bristled. “One usually does with his fiancée.”

“Fine.” He could hear the smug smile in Ballat’s tone. “Well then, I’ll leave this with you. I know you’ll do what’s right.”

Mason hung up the phone. So Ballat knew he’d do what was right. If only he were as certain what, exactly, that was.

TWENTY-SIX   

K
yla couldn’t wait to see Mason.

She’d called him that afternoon to make sure they were still on for dinner.

“Kyla! Thank heaven.”

She frowned at the relief in his voice. “Mason, is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course. I’m just … I’m happy to hear from you!”

Such an effusive reaction to her call just wasn’t Mason. “If you’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

They finalized their plans for dinner, but before they hung up, she told Mason she had something exciting to tell him.

“I’ll look forward to hearing it.”

The words were right, but the tone was suddenly dry. Almost sarcastic. She let it go, though she couldn’t help a tinge of frustration. Were all men confusing and frustrating?

By the time her doorbell rang that evening, she’d all but forgotten her question. She opened the door and ushered Mason inside.

He pointed to his watch. “Our reservations are in a half hour.”

“I know.” She tugged him toward the couch. “This won’t take long. I just want to tell you what God’s done.”

His brows lifted as he sat on the couch. “God has done something?”

“Oh yes!” She perched on the chair next to the sofa, letting her excitement spill over as she filled him in on the project Fredrik had brought to her. She’d expected him to share in her enthusiasm, to be happy for her, but the more she talked, the more agitated he seemed. When she asked him what he thought, his brow was positively thunderous.

“Isn’t that an area where gangs are active?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Kyla, why would you put yourself—and our future together—at risk like this?”

“It’s not a question of my putting anything at risk. It’s a question of obedience.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’d rather take on this lost cause than marry me?”

Kyla stared at him. Was the man totally nuts? “No, that’s not it at all.”

He stood and paced the room, jittery energy barely contained. “Then what is it? Please, help me understand why you insist on staying involved in this business. Especially for a project that’s doomed from the beginning.”

She rose and went to take his hands in hers. “Mason, don’t you see? This is what’s been missing in my life. A project that
means
something.” She released his hands, and this time it was she who paced. “I’m so tired of building things that look great, make lots of money, but don’t help anyone. With this project, people will benefit.
Children
will benefit.” She stilled and faced him. “How can I walk away from that? From the certainty inside that Fredrik isn’t asking me to do this.” She held his gaze. “God is.”

They stood in silence for a moment, and she watched for emotions on his features. But his expression was neutral. Almost … concealed.

The troubling thought dissipated when he came toward her. Putting his hands on her arms, he drew her close. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Of course you should do this if you feel God calling you to it. But Kyla, I’d like you to consider something.”

She leaned back, looking up into his face. If only she could read what he was feeling. “What?”

“Go ahead and take on the project. But if you can’t get it done in the allotted time, no matter what the reason, will you at least consider selling your construction business and marrying me?”

Apprehension tripped across her nerves. “Mason, you know how much can go wrong—”

“Are you saying you don’t think you can do it? Meet the deadline?”

Was that what she was saying?

“Kyla, if you don’t think you can do what Fredrik and the church need you to do—”

“No. That’s not it.” She stepped away from him. She needed to think. Was he right? Was it time to consider a change? Was this a way to determine whether or not she should walk away from JuCo?

Was she ready to risk everything for this project?

Risk it? What kind of way is that to talk about marriage?

Kyla closed her eyes. She was so tired of doubting herself, her motivations, her feelings.

“Kyl—”

“Yes.” She opened her eyes and found Mason staring down at her, serious eyes wide. She nodded. “Yes, Mason. Yes. If I can’t get this job done on time, I’ll know it’s time. Time to think seriously about selling you JuCo. Time to marry and focus on being a wife.”

“If you can’t do it, no matter the cause?”

The words were as unsettling now as when he’d first said them, but Kyla pushed her feelings aside. She shouldn’t be worried about this at all. If, indeed, God wanted her to take this job—to stay in the business and to focus on projects more like this one—then He would make sure they succeeded. He would see to it that the youth center was completed. On time.

And if she truly believed He was calling her to this, then fear had no place in her heart—or decisions.

Kyla lifted her chin. “No matter what.”

He nodded, sealing the deal. “Well, then, what say we go to dinner?”

She nodded, letting him take her arm and lead her to the door. Wondering, as she did so, if she was following him as well to a future she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted.

TWENTY-SEVEN   

T
he phone rang at 8 a.m. on the dot. Fredrik didn’t mind. He’d been up for hours, seeking God’s guidance. When he heard Kyla’s voice on the other end of the line, he knew he’d received it.

She got right to the point. “I’ll take the job.”

He wanted to accept her right away. But he had to make sure she understood. “You realize the deadline is less than two months away now.”

“Yes.”

“And that we’re desperately short on funds.”

“Not a problem.”

“And that you may well have to deal with the Blood Brotherhood?”

Her answer came out sure and strong. “I understand.”

“And Rafe. On an almost daily basis.”

Wry laughter tinged her voice. “I already told you I’m going to be good, Fredrik. I even promised, remember?”

More foolish than that, a promise didn’t get. But he didn’t tell her so.

“You’ve been up-front with me, Fredrik. I know what I’m getting myself and JuCo into. And so does God.”

It’s beautiful, Father. To see a true calling
. “Wonderful. I’ll set up a meeting with the elders at once.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Fredrik set the phone in its cradle and lowered himself to his knees. “Thank You, Father. Now be with us … as we go into battle.”

Kyla wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she met the elders. But it certainly wasn’t this group of sweet-faced, grandfatherly gentlemen sitting around a table, staring at her.

Fredrik introduced each of them, and Kyla noted the mixture of hope and doubt in their eyes. She couldn’t help wondering if that was because of all the opposition they’d experienced—or because their new contractor was a woman.