It was a hot July morning. July the 4th. Even though it was only 8 in the morning, it was already hot. Texas summers were the worst. Marty Sanford had volunteered to get the baseball fields ready for their tournament today. He had less than an hour before people would begin to show up. He felt rushed for time.

The YMCA, along with the members of Marty’s fire department, had put together a remarkable group of teams that would play a series of games back to back and at the end the winning teams would receive a couple of trophies provided by the Texas City Fire Department. The teams were made up of seven to ten year olds.

Every weekend Marty devoted his time to mentoring young boys. He had no children of his own, and, in a sad sort of way, his life felt empty and meaningless. Marty had been volunteering for the YMCA for over five years. He had never really like children, or ever thought having a child of his own. But over three years ago, his life had changed irrevocably.

Daniel Quillan had been his best friend. Only a few years younger, Dan was a true friend. He was honest, dependable, and man who knew how to work hard and steady. Dan had been assigned to the Texas City Fire Department just a little over four years ago. He’d come from another fire department in Austin so he had few friends and knew only a hand full of people.

Marty felt sorry for the young guy and one night had asked Dan to join him for dinner. Marty hadn't held any expectations about the evening, nor had he anticipated anything dramatic to happen. But it had.

Dan had been filled with may enlightening stories about his life and his experiences with his old fire department. But even though Dan was friendly, open, and outgoing, deep down was a sadness that marred his face. In his eyes were shadows of a hidden grief, remorse so candid that it tore at Marty’s heart.

At the end of the evening, Dan had revealed that he had just lost his wife and daughter in a fire that had broken out in a small department store just outside of Austin. Somehow the fire had caused an electrical shortage causing problem to escalate. All the doors to the department stored closed and locked, shutting the people inside. To make matters worse, the water sprinkler system failed to turn on.

The fire had spread quickly causing smoke to fill the store and smothering most of the occupants inside. A few minutes later the fire consumed them. It was later discovered that the store had not passed its last fire code inspection and had been warned to fix the electrical problem. Until the problem was fixed, the business was to be closed temporarily. The owner of the building was operating against regulations. He had not even been in the store when the fire broke out.

The owner had been arrested and put on trial and found guilty of over thirty counts of murder. This brought some satisfaction to Dan, but it would never bring his family back to him. He missed them deeply. So deeply that he uprooted himself and moved halfway across the state of Texas to get away from the memories.

But no matter where he went, the memories remained indelibly etched in his memory.

Marty remembered looking at Dan, the tears filling his eyes, and from the point on, a friendship had developed. The two men bonded as Marty had never bonded together with anyone.

Marty grew into a better person because of Dan. Over the course of the following year, Dan had opened up to Marty, sharing his faith in God, and teaching him how he, too, could come to know Christ as his savior.

At first Marty was hesitant to speak of God and Christ, and even the church. It was as foreign to him as anything else was. Marty had never thought he needed a savior, that he could do all things on his own. He was stubborn, arrogant, and prideful. He didn’t need anyone or anything.

Dan taught him how wrong he was. And just a week before Dan’s death, Marty had accept Christ as his savior for life. Marty owed everything to Dan. Dan had changed his life, for ever.

Tears welled up in Marty’s eyes and he had to wipe them away.

Three years ago, Dan had been called out to a fire with other firefighters. It was Marty’s vacation that week or he would have been there with him. But an old warehouse had caught fire. Inside the warehouse were high explosive chemicals that ignited and caused half the building to be totally destroyed. Dan had been inside when the explosion occurred. He’d been killed instantly.

For a moment Marty couldn’t move. He sat down on the ground where he stood and burying his face against his drawn up knees. He was wracked by the memories that flooded him and his shoulders shook with the strain of his tears.

He hadn’t thought of Dan in a while. In the beginning, Marty had thought about him every minute of his long, lonely days. Dan had been instrumental in giving Marty a whole new life. Because of Dan, Marty was now involved with the YMCA, going to church, and dedicating his life to God.

And because of Dan, Marty’s priorities had changed. His outlook on life was no longer the same. He desired to have a family at last. Marty no longer wanted to be alone. He wanted someone who he could love, honor, cherish and worship all the days of his life. He wanted to know what it was like to love someone with the ultimate gift of his soul, his heart, and his mind.

Over the last three years, since Dan’s death, Marty had been lonelier than he ever remembered being. But he missed his friend more and more.

He kept his picture in his locker, along with the news article of the fire that had raged through the warehouse. For a long time Marty had held himself responsible for the fire that killed his best friend. He felt guilty for not being there on that fateful day. If only he had been, maybe his friend would have lived.

It had taken him almost a year of dedicated praying, before Marty realized that things had worked out just as God had wanted them too. In a way, Marty was happy for Dan. Because now Dan was with his wife and daughter. They were a family again.

It was that thought that kept Marty motivated. He focused his attention on the good and not the back. He tried not to thing of the times now that he ate dinner alone, or jokes that he missed, or the wild stories. He tried not to think of the friendship and encouragement that Dan had given him through that one year.

Instead, he tried to think of the person he had become since then. Marty now considered himself to be a man of maturity. He had reached a healthy level of growth inside that he was now ready to pursue a life with someone.

He had not thought about it much, but Marty had finally realized that he could never have been a good husband nor a father, until he had become the person he was today. He had been selfish and self-absorbed. Everything had centered around him, his needs, his wants and desires. He hadn’t had time to think about someone else, much less their needs and wants.

Marty cried another few minutes then he wiped his tears away on the sleeve of his shirt. Just as he was about to come to his feet, a small, dark shadow fell across him.

He turned his head slowly, squinting his eyes. He could see a small figure of a woman. Her long brown hair was blowing against the soft, subtle breeze. Behind her was the sun, shinning down on her casting her in bright light.

He lunged to his feet immediately. He towered over her about a foot to a foot and a half. She was thin and petite but beautiful. He had to look down at her when he spoke.

Her head was flung back as she stared up at him. Her appearance was clean and wholesome. She had not a trace of make up. Her skin was a soft shade of ivory. She had wide smiling brown eyes.

He was mesmerized by her beauty. He could barely breath. His chest felt tight, his lungs restricted. A dizziness swept over him and for a moment he thought he would fall.

The woman just silently stared at him with a blunt curiosity. Her forehead furrowed and when she spoke, her voice was like velvet.

"Sir, are you all right? "

Marty didn’t know what to say or even to think. He was clearly embarrassed and a blotch of red crept up his neck and face. "I’m fine," he said, looking away shyly, staring at something on the other side of the baseball field.

"I thought you might need some help. I thought you were, uh, well . . ." she hesitated, not sure what to say. "Well, I thought you were crying."

Marty’s shoulders slumped. He looked down at the ground where his feet here planted firmly, hoping that they would not disappoint him. He finally glanced up and met her dazzling brown eyes. "I’m sorry," he apologized. "I was just remembering an old friend. He died in a fire a few years ago."

The woman didn’t know what to say. She stood there speechless, her throat constricting with sudden memories of her own. She was prevented from saying anything else with a young boy skittered up to her, giving her a great big hug, and calling her name over again. "Mommy, mommy," he exclaimed. "You won’t ever believe this."

She laughed and patted him gently on the head. "What is it Brandon?"

His eyes grew large and animated. He was a spitting image of his mother in male form. He had the same dark hair, same brown eyes, he wore a Texas Rangers baseball cap over his head, and a baseball mitt on his left hand.

"I hear they have a swimming pool inside that building over there. And I hear they have summer camp outs and all kinds of things kids can do. Isn’t that great?"

The kid was wildly excited. His mom looked at him with a genuine smile on her face. "Yes, love, that is great."

"Did you get to talk to the man, yet? Huh? Huh?"

This time her laugh was hearty and vibrant, and full of life. The sound of it rang through the air and hit Marty in the center of his heart.

"No, young man, I haven’t. If you will give me a few minutes, I will. Now scat and let us talk."

She nudged the seat of his pants, sending him on his way. Reluctantly he left with his head and shoulders dropped a notch. The woman watched the small boy for a moment then turned her attention back to Marty.

At first she was taken away by his handsome face. The strong chin, broad cheeks, the color of his bright blue eyes. His hair was a sandy color, almost like the beach. His arms were muscled, his chest broad. She could tell he was a man that was devoted to keeping in shape. She was stunned at how tall he was. But more so at his vulnerability. She had walked up on his at a very private moment, yet, he didn’t seem to let that bother him.

"I’m sorry," she said sweetly. She held out her hand. "My name is Erica. Erica Rhinehold."

Marty grasped her hand tenderly. It felt warm and delicate against his strong fingers. He held her hand lightly so as not to hurt her. In all his life he had never felt the need to be gentle with any woman. But for some reason, this woman brought out the man in him. She made him feel strong and masculine. This feeling made him very aware of her own femininity. He felt himself choking on the realization.

Then he quickly turned off his emotions. Obviously the woman was married. She had a child after all. A son. A handsome young boy.

"My name is Marty Sanford. I am a volunteer for the YMCA. I direct the activities for the boys seven to ten."

"Oh, yes, I’ve heard a lot about you." Her eyes were twinkling in the sun. A small waft of air lifted her hair off her shoulders. It settled against her back.

This bit of news made Marty uncomfortable. Erica grinned.

"Don’t worry, it’s all been good stuff." She watched Marty’s expression, then she went on. "I hear you are with the fire department, that you are great with kids, and that . . ."

"I wouldn’t say great," Marty interrupted. "Good maybe, but certainly not great."

Erica’s eyes opened wide and bright. Her grin grew even bigger than before. She stepped forward, leaning her head just an in toward Marty, In a whisper she said, "I hear from my son, that you are like superman, that you can leap over tall buildings and that you can fly." She cleared her throat then stepped back. Her eyes grew serious. "But all joking aside. I have heard good things about you."

Marty just kept looking at her, how pretty she was standing with the sunshine streaming down on her.

Erica kept waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t seem intent on doing anything but watching her. She felt uneasy under his scrutiny. She was breathless and scared. Marty did something to her. He opened up her heart. Made her feel things she hadn’t felt in a long time. When she looked at him, she saw a man, not just a person. He was a beautiful specimen. Strong, handsome, alluring. Her blood began to boil.

At last Marty reached down and grabbed a large bag of bats and balls. He slung it effortless over his shoulders. The two of them started moving off to the side of the field. Other people were beginning to show up and were milling about on the sidelines at the other side of the field.

"I love working with the children," Marty admitted. "A few years ago, I couldn’t have said that. But today, it is true."

"What brought about the change?" Erica asked. She held her breath anticipating his answer.

"My friend. The one I talked about a moment ago."

For a second Erica turned her head away as if hiding something from Marty. Then quickly she turned back to look at him again. She found it hard to take her eyes off of him for very long.

"Tell me about the programs you have here, at the Y."

Marty was in his element. He set the bag down at his feet. He laced his fingers with Erica’s as he assisted her to climb the bleachers until they were seated near the top. He started out across the field to where others had gathered. Young boys and girls chased each other. People were spreading out lawn chairs and blankets. Some had ice chests, others duffel bags and other containers of food and clothes.

"The YMCA promotes a healthy family environment. We like parents to be involved with their children’s activities. We offer swimming, camping, baseball, soccer. In August we have a camping trip lined up for all the boys on the baseball teams."

"How much is the registration fee?"

Marty leaned back on his elbows and stretched out his legs in front of him. Erica couldn’t help but eye him from head to toe.

"It is $25.00 per child. The child will then need to purchase a t-shirt for $10.00 that will match his teammates."

Erica glanced away momentarily. Things were tight with her and Brandon. financially. She worked as a nurse part-time in the emergency room at the Methodist Hospital. Though the pay was good, it was still difficult to meet all of her financial needs. But it was a sacrifice she was willing to be made. With her hours at the hospital, she was home with Brandon when he got out of school. She had his dinner ready for him when he got off the bus, and she had much more time to spend with him in the evenings helping him with home work, special chores, and playing games.

After a moment of strained silence, Marty met Erica’s gaze. He didn’t speak immediately. He assessed her emotions. Her eyes had darkened as if shame or regret was smoldering in their depths. At once a feeling washed over him, bathing him with some unknown emotion.

He wanted to speak, to ask what was the matter, but words failed him. He noticed the time was slipping away from him. The first game was due to start in just a few minutes. Marty straightened from his position, then came to his hands. He grasped at Erica’s hand and tugged her to her feet. He used more force than he had anticipated. Erica came at him in a blur, falling against his chest. Her hands, palms flat, spread against his chest in an effort to balance herself.

Marty slipped his arms around her waist to steady her. Their eyes met awkwardly. Erica stepped back from the warmth of his body that suddenly overwhelmed her. She smelt the slight scent of his cologne which was aromatic and masculine.

She felt the need to flee from his closeness. But she couldn’t force herself to move. She swallowed hard, then stepped down.

"I will have to think about this a few days. My budget may not can afford the small dent. But I’ll see what I can do."

Marty followed after her watching the dejection in her step, the slump of her shoulders. "Erica?"

Her name was like a plea from his lips. She turned to him slowly, looking up into his eyes with shyness. "Yes."

"If it isn’t any insult to you," Marty stammered with uncertainty, "I wouldn’t mind paying the registration fee for your son, if you think you can pay for the t-shirt."

Her eyes seemed to brighten at his suggestion. She smiled at him with a gentle grace that was all her own. She lifted her shoulders in a subtle shrug. "I’ll think about it. I usually don’t accept charity from strangers." She hesitated a moment before continued. "Not from anyone really."

Marty grinned. "I know," is all he would say. "I hope you’ll at least stay for the games. I think your son will enjoy them." Then he was off, sauntering to the other side of the field where a group of baseball players had gathered for pre-game warm ups. He had a kick to his step and a smile in his heart. Joy swept through his whole body wrapping him in a solitary peace. He felt Erica’s eyes on him. He glanced over his shoulders to find her watching his gait. He gave her a slight wave of the hand, then turned back the other way.

Erica stood watching Marty as he half skipped to the other side of the field. She felt drawn to him in a way she hadn’t been drawn to anyone in quite some time. Well in seven years, since her husband had died.

Since then she had avoided any type of relationships and commitments to men. Yes, she dated occasionally, but she never allowed her feelings to grow beyond friendship. But with Marty, there was something different about him.

He seemed different in some magical way. He wasn’t arrogant as she had originally thought he would be. She had formed all of these preconceived notions about him. But they were all turning out to be false.

She was glad about that. But where would all this lead? She wasn’t sure. All she knew is, she hoped to see him again some day.

Chapter 3 Coming Soon