Mack’s breathing was deep and regular. Jake stood counting his father’s respirations as he slept in the big leather chair.
“He refused to nap in the bed,” Bitsy said, her hands on her hips as she stared at Mack.
“Like father, like son,” Jake said. “Two hardheads.”
“Oh, I think you have him beat.”
Jake raised a brow at her words.
“Care for some butternut-squash soup? Your dad’s favorite and I made a big batch. Though I will admit that it took me thirty minutes to figure out your newfangled stove.”
“Not really hungry,” Jake said. “But thank you for the offer.”
“When did you eat last?”
“Can’t remember.”
“Have a seat, and I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”
He sucked in a breath and sat down at the table.
Bitsy placed a mat, a cloth napkin, silverware and a glass of milk in front of him. “Here you go.” A bowl of steaming soup and a basket of fresh bread teased his nostrils. His stomach growled in anticipation.
“Butter?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
Jake bowed his head and prayed silently. He reached for a spoon and began to eat.
“Delicious. Did you make the bread?”
“I did.”
Head down, avoiding her gaze, he continued eating, hoping that Bitsy would wander into the next room.
No such luck.
“Do you feel better?” she asked minutes later when his spoon hit the bottom of the bowl.
He relaxed his shoulders. “I do. Thank you.”
“Glad to hear it, because you’re going to need your strength when you start thinking and finally realize that all of this was your fault.”
Stunned, Jake raised his head and blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I said—”
“I heard you,” he growled.
“The way I figure it, you’re about to do some soul-searching and you’ll come to the conclusion that not only are you at fault for not realizing your father doesn’t have a clue that dryer vents need to be emptied more often than once a year, but...”
Jake opened his mouth, but Bitsy whipped her palm up into the air faster than he could come up with a sharp retort.
“But you are also going to blame yourself for Maggie’s injuries. After that, I dare say you’ll decide you do a lousy job of protecting those you love and retreat into that fire helmet of yours forever.”
“Is that so?” He bit out the words.
She crossed her arms. “Yes. Pretty close I imagine.”
Anger flared within him, and he fought for control. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Prove me wrong, helmet head. I dare you.”
He jerked back at the words. “What did you just call me?”
“You heard me.”
Jake was speechless, though he searched high and low for an appropriate comeback. The woman didn’t mince words and he had no response for her little reverse psychology game, because deep down inside he waged the battle of a lifetime, trying to discern whether he really was at fault.
“Romans 8:1. ‘Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.’”
“Now you’re going to preach to me?”
“I’m almost seventy years old. Not a lot of time to waste being nicety-nice. So I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get you to realize that it’s time to get on with your life. Because until you get on with your life, Mack can’t and won’t.” She huffed. “And frankly, the two of us are running out of time.”
“A little self-serving, aren’t you?”
“Maybe, but that’s not all I see. I see a man with lots to offer and a bright future, who refuses to allow God to take care of those he loves, who instead, somehow thinks that it’s his responsibility.”
She pointed a long finger at him. “Setting yourself up for a big fall there, Jake.”
Jake closed his eyes and looked away.
“Pride. Pure pride when you think you can do God’s job better than He can.”
He felt her hand on his shoulder. “I know this will be difficult for you to believe, but I’ve come to care a good deal about you, Jake. You’re a good man. You deserve the best. Think about what I’ve said, would you?”
Jake nodded.
“Now I have to head over to the hospital. The Paradise Ladies Auxiliary is giving Maggie a hero’s welcome home. I’ve got pies cooling on the porch.”
“When is she being discharged?”
Bitsy glanced at her watch. “Anytime now. I’ll come back for Mack later and he can hang out with us at Maggie’s. Keep an eye on him for me until then, will you?”
“Yeah. Of course. I’m staying home until he’s feeling better.”
“Good and I left you a pie on the counter.”
She gave him a nod and headed out the door.
“Jacob?” his father called out.
“Dad, you’re awake? How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Just a little sore.”
Jake walked into the living room. “I’ll tell Maggie to drag slower next time.”
Mack chuckled. “You do that, would you, please?”
Jake grinned, relieved his father was going to be okay.
“How do you suppose a tiny thing like Maggie managed to drag me out the door? I’m gobsmacked every time I think about that.”
“Adrenaline and prayer are a pretty potent combination.”
“I guess so.” Mack looked up at Jake. “Bitsy’s right you know, son.”
“Yeah, I know, Bitsy’s always right, but we’re not going to tell her that, are we?”
Mack laughed. “I do occasionally. It keeps me in pies.”
“That’s not my strategy. I will admit she is right. Today. I’m still going to need a little time to figure out what I’m going to do about it.”
“Pray, Jacob. That’s what you do when you can’t figure out what’s next. You pray. Call His name and He’s there for you.”
“I’ll do that, Mack.”
“Oh, and I find it helps to get a little padding on the floor before you get down on your knees and repent. But that’s just me.”
This time Jake laughed. “Good idea. You’re pretty smart, Dad. Pretty smart.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Mother, she’s here,” her cousin Susan called out. Susan carefully assisted Maggie from the car to the porch, where Aunt Betty held the screen door open.
“Finally home again. Thank You, Lord.” Her aunt stopped to examine Maggie in the shaft of sunlight that streamed into the small foyer. “Oh, my, look at you.”
“Lovely purple shade, isn’t it?” Maggie laughed.
“I called your folks to let them know what happened, but I had to leave a message,” Susan said.
“I think they’re on a cruise until school starts,” Maggie said.
“I want to give you a big bear hug, Maggie, but I don’t want to hurt you,” Aunt Betty said.
“Really, I’m fine. I just took a tumble.”
“Through a window, as I understand. Rambo style.” Uncle Bob appeared in the hallway.
“Uncle Bob!” She smiled.
“Sorry I haven’t gotten over here sooner, Maggie. Business in the shop is booming. Beck and I can barely keep up.”
Maggie laughed. “That’s good, right?”
“Are you kidding? Absolutely and I owe it all to you. Frankly, I was a little shocked when I had a minute to review the receivables payroll, Maggie. You’ve done more business while I was away than I’ve done so far this year.”
“More good news.”
“Yes, it is. But I would like you to consider helping me part-time again, when you’re up to it.”
“Sure, Uncle Bob.” She turned to her aunt. “It smells wonderful in the house, Aunt Betty. What’s cooking?”
“Right now, stew, but we’ve got anything you want, Maggie.”
“Have any puff
ed cheese balls?”
“Maggie, really? You want puffed cheese balls?”
“Let her have them, Betty,” Uncle Bob said. “She’s a hero. She can eat anything she wants.”
“Thanks, Uncle Bob. You’re my hero for saying that.”
“Mags, you look pale. Let’s get you to your room,” Susan said.
“I’m fine. I look much worse than I feel.”
“Are you in pain?” Aunt Betty asked.
“At the moment, no, not at all. They insisted I take a pain pill for the ride home. It knocked me out. I only hope I didn’t snore.”
“It was pretty loud,” Susan added.
Maggie groaned with mortification.
“Stop that, Susan. She’s kidding, Maggie,” Aunt Betty assured her.
Susan laughed. “So you’re all goofy from the drugs are you, cousin?”
“That’s putting it mildly. I am definitely feeling no pain.” She took a few wobbly steps forward.
“Lean on me,” Susan said, leading her along the hallway.
Maggie nodded and glanced into the kitchen as they moved down the hall. She blinked, then grabbed the doorjamb and stepped back. The pain medication seemed to be causing hallucinations. She was seeing double. And triple.
“Wait.” Inching into the small kitchen she heard a gasp, and realized it was her own. Every bit of counter space was filled with foil-and-plastic-wrap-covered dishes. Homemade pies, cakes and cookies were artfully arranged on platters that covered the table. There wasn’t an inch of table top to be seen.
“Where did all this come from?” Maggie asked, aghast.
Aunt Betty walked over to the delicacies. “Well, let me see. Ah, strawberry-rhubarb pie from the mayor’s wife. Patti Jo’s bakery sent cookies and a box of pastries.” She bent to examine a large carrot cake. “From your friends at the Paradise Gazette.”
“Ah, yes. My new friends at the Paradise Gazette.” She laughed.
“The casseroles are from the good ladies of the auxiliary. Every single one brought a casserole. You’ve got something for every day of the week for a month.”
“One casserole would have done me for a month. Who’s going to eat all that?”
“We’ll help,” Uncle Bob promised, pinching off a piece of pie and popping it into his mouth.
“Yes, there’s that,” Aunt Betty said, slapping at his hand. “I imagine you’ll have a few visitors. What’s left we’ll stick in here.” She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled open the door. “Hmm.” Her voice trailed off with a note of confusion.
Maggie peeked over her aunt’s shoulder. There was no room in the refrigerator. Susan’s double-sized professional stainless steel refrigerator was full. Every shelf had been crammed tight with plastic containers.”
“Oh, goodness,” Maggie exclaimed.
“Don’t you be worrying. Nothing will go to waste. What your guests don’t finish we can freeze.”
“Guests?” Maggie asked, certain her aunt joked. “What guests?”
“You’re a hero, Maggie,” her aunt said with a smile. “People have been calling all day. They want to stop by and pay their respects. Some are friends of Mack, who simply want to thank you for your act of bravery. We told everyone to wait until Friday. Give you some time to rest up.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” Susan said. “I brought you a new outfit from the shop. My thank-you present.”
“Oh, Susan, that wasn’t necessary.”
Behind them Uncle Bob reached out to sneak another corner of crust.
“Bob, just cut yourself a proper piece of that pie and stay out of the way,” Aunt Betty scolded.
She turned to Maggie. “He claims he likes my pie best but he can’t keep his hands off hers.”
Susan and Maggie exchanged a look as Susan helped Maggie down the hall.
“Bedroom?”
“I’d rather sit in the living room. I feel like I’ve been in bed for days.”
They stopped at the couch. “Lie down?” Susan asked.
Maggie kept her feet on the polished wood floor. “The room spins when I do that. I’ll sit here until the medication wears off.” She grabbed her comfortable quilt from the back of the old floral sofa and covered her lap.
As she settled against the cushions, she glanced around the room. Red roses sat in a glass vase on the curio table. Another dozen, this time pink, were in full bloom on the mantel. On the coffee table a lovely arrangement of pink and yellow gerbera daisies took center stage.
“What beautiful flowers. Where did they come from?”
“Let me look for the cards.” Susan took the card from the pink roses and handed them to Maggie.
“The Paradise Volunteer Fire Department. Duffy signed it. How sweet.”
“The red roses are from Mack and Bitsy. Bitsy told me that. No card on those.”
“And the daisies?” Maggie asked.
“I don’t know. They were here when I got here.”
Susan’s phone buzzed. “Oops. Be right back.”
Maggie sank back against the cushions as her aunt came into the room and adjusted the shade.
“Nice view, if it wasn’t raining again. I know we need the water, but my joints are not happy.” She massaged her elbows and stuck her hands in her apron pockets as she surveyed the fat drops hitting the window.
“Oh, I nearly forgot.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her apron. “The Paradise Gazette called twice and left a number. I think they’re worried the Four Forks Daily might scoop them. They want a call back ASAP.”
“Thank you.” Maggie’s fingers played with the edges of the quilt. “No other calls?”
“That would be all,” Aunt Betty said, handing Maggie the paper.
Maggie was unable to contain a sigh of disappointment. Somehow she’d hoped Jake might be here when she got home. Or at least he’d have called. Had she imagined his caring response at the hospital?
“What is it, dear?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on, now. It can’t be nothing if it makes you look so glum.”
“I, um—I don’t suppose Jake called?”
“Jake? Why didn’t you say so? He did, but he didn’t say much. Isn’t that just like a man?”
“I suppose,” Maggie agreed with a false smile. She shifted slightly, her gaze following Aunt Betty around the room as she fussed, rearranging the roses in their vases. “What did he say?” she queried.
“Say?” Her aunt leaned forward to examine the flowers on the mantel. She rearranged the roses and plucked a few limp petals off the blossoms, tucking them in her apron pocket. “You mean Jake? He asked if you were home yet.”
“Oh.”
“Said he’d call back.”
“That’s all?”
Giving the question some thought, her aunt paused and pursed her lips. “That’s all. Now, I imagine you’re hungry.”
“Not really.”
Aunt Betty waved a hand of dismissal. “I’ll bring you a plate. You have to eat if you want that arm to heal.” She started toward the kitchen and turned back. “Margaret?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you, dear.”
“For what?”
“You saved Mack’s life.”
Maggie began to protest. Her aunt held up a hand to silence her. “The good Lord was watching over you and Mack that night.”
Maggie blinked back emotions and nodded.
“Folks are going to want to thank you, Maggie. I know this is very uncomfortable for you, but it will be over in a few days. Smile and nod. That’s all that’s required.”
“Okay, Aunt Betty. I get it. I can do that if it will make everyone happy.”
“It will and in the end, you’ll be happy, too. Trust me.”
“I do.”
“Okay, now rest. I’ll give you thirty minutes before I bring you a plate.”
As her aunt left the room the daisies caught Maggie’s attention again and she leaned forward and sp
otted a small card hidden in the center of the arrangement. She pulled it out.
The daisies were from Jake. Pleasure warmed her as she read the note.
These reminded me of you. Hope you’re feeling better. I’ll see you when the crowd thins. Love, Jake.
Love, Jake?
The words filled her spirit and her heart and eased her pain. Maggie rested her head against the cushions and smiled.
* * *
Outside Jake’s window the rain continued to fall and the unmistakable sound of a kitten crying broke through the night. Chuck barked. He’d heard it, too.
Jake rolled over and retrieved the sheet from the floor. Another restless night. No use trying to sleep. Once the rain eased up he’d go outside and check out the animal he heard.
For now he lay in bed thinking while the rain hit the roof in a rhythmic pattern.
How do you wake up and realize you love someone?
He’d been up since 3:00 a.m. trying to figure that one out.
Boy, had life changed in the last four weeks.
Every single day since the fire seemed to drag.
Now Maggie Jones had become the local heroine.
He longed to stop by but couldn’t, not while the place was crawling with visitors. He wasn’t going to let his heart bleed in front of an audience.
According to Bitsy, Maggie had a running line of well-wishers. And she would know. When Bitsy wasn’t nursing Mack, she was at Maggie’s. According to Sam, Bitsy spent more time out at the cottage than she did at her desk. Not that Sam was complaining.
Trouble was she was also calling Jake left and right. The woman was driving him nuts.
Every single day he got a play-by-play on Maggie along with pointed insinuations about what he ought to be doing.
Yesterday had been the humdinger finale to the week, starting off the moment Bitsy stopped by his house to check on Mack.
“I will be leaving right after I make your father dinner,” she’d informed him as she rolled up the blinds in his living room with as much of a racket as possible.
Jake had nodded as he’d poured his second cup of coffee. He could have advised her that he was perfectly capable of making dinner, except he hadn’t.
His silence led to the loudest harrumph he’d heard in his life. He’d barely sat down to read his mail when she started again.
“Are you taking your father to his follow-up medical appointment with the pulmonologist?” she’d asked.
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