Crafting journeys that warm the heart . . .

"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart as working for the Lord, not for men." Colossians3:23.

Donna L. Rich

     Charlie smiled . . . again. "May I carry these things up for you?"

     She extended the handle on the suitcase and loaded her carry-on and laptop on top of it. "Thank you, but I have it."

     Charlie leaned against the shuttle van and folded his arms across his chest. "I'll pick you up here a week from Sunday around Three o'clock. I believe your plane leaves at six thirty."

     "Thank you, Mr. Parish. I'll see you Sunday then." Emily stuffed his card into the side pocket of her laptop. For a woman who had trained herself to control unwanted emotion, She felt totally spent from her brief encounter with Charlie Parish.

     Cal took in a breath. "It's him, isn't it?" 

     "It's not anyone," said Marzie. "It's me. Trust me, I want to be right here with you, but I need time."

     Cal pointed toward the marsh. "Then, let's not waste precious time. Tomorrow's Sunday, and I'll be gone."

     "I guess I'm finally ready. I hope you two aren't starving."
     After she closed the lanai door behind her, she inserted the key into the door. Before she could turn the lock into place, Kevin walked over and took the key from her. "I'll get this."
     In the process, his hand brushed against hers. While she wasn't sure those chills should have gone through her skin at his touch, she felt somehow connected to him because of the contact.
     While embarrassed to admit a spark flickered gently within her, she also wondered if she could fan the spark into flame.