Running from the Storm (A Christian Romance)

Chapter Two

Chandra awoke on the first day of school to a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. The excitement she expected; she'd felt this way at the onset of a new school year since childhood. She attributed the nervousness to the strangeness of her environment.
After washing up at the basin in her room, she stepped across to her clothing box. She was startled by the silver lizard napping on top of the new blouse she'd lain out the night before. Her first reaction was to scream, but the thought of the Marquez family's amusement at her discomfort stifled the sound before it had time to form on her lips.
Instead she gingerly tried to grab the thing by its tail to remove it, ignoring the ick factor best she could. To her horror the frightened creature unexpectedly dropped the tail, leaving it dangling between her fingers as it took off like a shot across the room and disappeared into the oilcloth curtains hanging over the window. She started involuntarily, summoning the household with her cry.
Her host family was gracious; they didn't poke fun at her foolishness. Mr. Marquez quickly removed the little guy and placed him out in the garden. Mrs. Marquez reassured her that there was nothing to worry about, and distracted her with light conversation as she fixed her breakfast; a smoothie made from fruit and grains that seemed a little strange to her Americanized tastebuds but which was surprisingly filling. While she drank her smoothie and followed it up with a strong cup of coffee, the boys entertained her by playing with the lizard tail that they had retrieved from the floor where she'd dropped it in shock.
Her wounded pride mended, she finished her simple toilet and headed out to the school building. She was instantly surrounded by a gaggle of children all eager to see this new teacher, "pelirroja" as they affectionately called her, referring to her fiery locks. Despite being disarmed by their shy inquisitive natures, she finally managed to get control over her students and settled them down for learning.
Midway through the morning, the class was disturbed by a commotion emanating from the building across the school yard. Great - now what? The noise from the construction is bad enough, but this yelling has got to stop.
Leaving one of the older girls in charge of the class, Chandra stepped outside to identify the source of the commotion. Can't be. Chandra didn't trust her eyes. The gruff, unkempt American wore a construction hard hat, but she was sure this was the same man whose motorcycle had driven her cab from the road; the one who had been more concerned about the welfare of his bike than of the cab's only passenger. I can't believe it! He's a jerk wherever he is, isn't he?!
She was too far away to hear the quiet replies of a Mexican man who appeared to be in charge of the other construction workers. She had no problem, however, making out the obscenities behind shouted by the American. These peppered a tirade about problems with the roof, screamed mostly in English with the occasionally poorly spoken Spanish word thrown in for good measure.
She drew nearer, curious as to the cause of this outburst. The Mexican man's posture told her that he was not fully understanding what the problem was. Before she knew it, she was between them. She turned to the Hispanic gentleman, whom she guessed to be the job foreman, and began translating the American's complaints into Spanish, leaving his more colorful adjectives out of the translation. "¿Lo que está sucediendo con el techo? Se supone que fijar las vigas."
The man brightened and nodded enthusiastically, explaining what had been done and what had yet to be done on the roof. Chandra turned to the American and translated. ¨He says some of the fasteners had been overtightened and were stripped. They had to drill many of them out and it took longer than they had planned to remove the sheathing. They expect to correct the spacing in the joints by the end of the day.¨
# # #
Andrew wasn't sure what to make of this newcomer. His angry words had died on his lips at her unexpected appearance. He studied her as she spoke to the foreman. She was petite and soft-spoken, but she still came across as a powerhouse. I wouldn't want to cross her. And that shock of red hair! She reminds me of...
Andrew snapped himself away from his thoughts. It seemed like a response was needed to the foreman, so he nodded his assent. He mumbled a thanks to the newcomer, fumbling for the right thing to say.
# # #
Chandra stuck out a hand to the American, swallowing her distaste for him in favor of a less judgmental attitude. "Hi, I'm Chandra Fenimore. I am working at the school for the summer."
"Andrew Gunderson" was his sparse reply, but he extended his hand and shook hers firmly. His long hair was stringy and his clothes dirty and wrinkled, but Chandra reminded herself that he worked in dirty conditions all day, so perhaps this wasn't the best first impression by which to judge him. She smiled at him. "So, what brings you down here to work on the mission?"
His response was terse. "I'm not on any mission. This is a job and nothing more. Look-  it was nice meeting you and I appreciate your assistance, but I have things to do if I am going to get this job back on schedule." With that he turned his back on her and walked away without another word.
Chandra stood for a second looking after him. The feelings of distaste rose inside her again. What is going on inside his that makes him so abrupt? He certainly could use a lesson in good manners. She shook her head as she returned to the classroom.
# # #
Andrew found it impossible to stop thinking Chandra. Beyond the shock of red hair that he desperately wished he could forget, her sudden appearance and assistance was unlike any encounter he'd had before. Where did this fireball come from? And how is it possible she could look so much like Beth? Andrew flinched at the thought of Beth. His heart ached for her. He determined to put the thought from his mind.
Andrew remained busy the rest of the day, and directed his thoughts to other tasks. Back in his room that evening, Andrews's thoughts returned to the flash of Chandra's eyes when she translated for Alejando. He envisioned her sweeping away the red locks that had tossed across her face in the breeze. It was hopeless. Andrew could not erase the impression she'd left with him.
What does it matter anyway. She won't last long down here in this God-forsaken part of the world. Women like that need electricity and indoor plumbing. It's likely she's only here a short time. She'll be gone in a  couple weeks anyway.
Andrew groaned, burying his face in his hands. In a couple weeks I won't have to be tormented by her face and hair – by these memories  – any longer.