His Promise

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “I enjoyed talking with her, but I can’t say I felt too good about my visit when I left. I felt the same way you did.”

  “Captain Butler is going to talk to Sheriff Brewer. Someone over at the sheriff’s department is going to do some searching to see if she has any family in the area. But I thought maybe, in the meantime, the two of us could look in on her as often as possible, at least through Christmas.”

  “I’d be happy to do that. Thank you for asking me to help out,” said Grace.

  “Only you would say asking to look on an elderly person in need of care was doing you a favor.”

  “Maybe not. I’d like to think that most people are simply waiting to be asked to do something for somebody else.”

  “I’ve never thought of it that way, but you might be right.” He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but paused. “You seem quiet. Are you upset about how we left things off the other day?”

  After debating for a moment, Grace decided to share what was weighing on her so deeply. “Maybe, but it has more to do with a phone call I received earlier today. It was my mother.”

  Concern etched his features. “Have your grandparents’ health gotten worse?”

  “I don’t believe so. It had to do with something else.” Musing, she continued, “I love my family and I love being with them. I miss them, too. But I recently came to the conclusion that everything about me is not tied up into them.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m not surprised. I am still trying to come to terms with it. But, well, what I’m trying to say is that I guess I’ve realized that it’s possible for me to make decisions that don’t have anything to do with my parents’ wishes. Or even my sisters’ wishes or advice. I’ve become my own person.”

  He nodded slowly. “That happened to me a few years back. It . . . well, it was a revelation.”

  She loved that he wasn’t making light of her statement. Appreciated that John Michael was feeling some of the very same things that she was. It made her feel not so alone.

  It also brought forth a question. “What did you do after you realized that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did it change you? Or, did it change the way you related to the rest of your family?”

  He paused. “You know . . . nee.”

  “Really?” She wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or if it was disappointing. Part of her felt like such a monumental change in her life should have repercussions in every other part of her life, too.

  He shrugged. “I’m no expert, Grace. All I know is how I reacted. And, to be honest, I never spent a lot of time considering how my realization would affect the rest of my life. But . . . if I had to say, I think it made me more patient with my parents.”

  “More patient?” That was a surprise.

  “I felt more settled inside, you know? I kind of felt like I wasn’t relying on someone else to tell me how I should act or feel. I wasn’t looking for approval anymore. I had found a new sense of peace within myself.”

  Grace realized that his words made a lot of sense, and that this new change of heart wasn’t going to be easy . . . but that maybe it wasn’t going to be so hard, either. “I’m glad I told you what I was feeling.”

  “Are you? I don’t feel like I helped.”

  Lifting her chin slightly, she smiled. “My new, improved self would say that I didn’t necessarily tell you so that you would help me. I told you because you asked.”

  The smile that had been playing on his lips grew. “Whew! I can tell that this new Grace is gonna be a force to be reckoned with.”

  She chuckled. “Don’t forget. You’ve been forewarned.”

  “Would you like to bundle up and go for a walk? Maybe make plans to visit Miss Schultz soon?”

  “I would. It’s cold out but not terrible. It will be nice to get outside for a while.”

  While she went to gather her mittens and a scarf, he walked over to unplug the cord behind the tree. When several needles rained down on the carpet, he frowned. “When was the last time you watered the tree, Grace?”

  “The tree was cut down, silly. I haven’t watered it.”

  He didn’t laugh at her comment. Instead, he knelt down and pointed to the metal container that the tree was fastened into. “Do you see this, Grace? You’re supposed to keep it filled with water so the trunk can absorb it. The water will keep the needles from falling and lessen the chance of fire.”

  Getting up, he crossed to the kitchen. “Help me look for a water pitcher. We’ll go take care of it now.”

  After opening a couple of cabinets, she located a plastic pitcher and filled it about halfway with water. John Michael took it from her and crouched by the tree to fill the container. “Don’t forget to check this every day.”

  “I won’t.”

  She took the pitcher from him and felt some of the lightness she’d been feeling between them dissipate.

  Thinking about how he always seemed to want to take care of her instead of be with her, she said, “I’m really not as scatterbrained as you seem to think I am.”

  “I don’t think of you as scatterbrained at all.”

  “Are you sure?” Thinking of all the warnings he’d given her, she said, “I feel like you don’t think I can do anything right.”

  “That’s not true.” He walked closer to her. Close enough that she could spy the sincerity in his expression. “All I’m trying to do is keep you safe, Grace. I . . .” He swallowed. “Well, I would be devastated if something happened to you. I don’t know if I could bear it.”

  Suddenly, all of her worries about him thinking of her as childish and immature faded. She saw the same concern for her that she felt for him reflected in his expression. “I feel the same way about you when you go to work,” she admitted.

  He reached out and quietly ran a finger down her cheek. The light touch should have been barely noticeable, but she felt it down to her toes. “I guess we’ll have to do our best to keep each other safe, then, Grace.”

  Before she could reply, he strode toward the door.

  Leaving her to pick up Snooze and follow.

  Chapter 19

  “Hope you ate your Wheaties last night, Miller,” Captain Butler said as they entered the firehouse together at seven o’clock the next morning.

  “I don’t know what that means,” John Michael said. “I’m thinking it has something to do with you working us hard today?” He could only imagine the training exercises the captain had up his sleeve.

  “Yep. You’re on the right track. But it’s not me that’s going to be working us hard. It’s the season. Yesterday’s crew got called out for two vehicular accidents and one kitchen fire.”

  Though he knew Captain Butler expected a lighthearted response, John Michael couldn’t summon a joke. “I’ll be prepared to do my best.”

  After a beat, the captain clapped him on the back. “You’re right, rookie. The best is all we can do.”

  As always, the first thing they did after putting their personal items in the lockers was start a load of laundry since the last thing each member of the previous crew did before leaving was strip their sheets. It was then up to the next team to wash the sheets and make their beds.

  And because John Michael was the most junior member of his team, the bulk of the laundry duty usually fell on his shoulders. It was something that never failed to strike him as funny. He’d grown up thinking that doing laundry was strictly women’s work.

  But he quickly learned that carrying around linens and towels from four men and four beds wasn’t all that light. Thinking of how his mamm had always washed the clothes in the basement of their home before carrying it upstairs to the clothesline outside, he felt ashamed. He should have never taken that for granted. Or, at the very least, he should have offered to carry up the wicker basket of wet laundry for her.

  He had only time to start the first load of laundry when their captain called them together. Sitting around the
kitchen table, he listened intently as Captain Butler read notes from the company log.

  It described the vehicular accidents and the kitchen fire in greater detail, as well as the number of community and home visits the team had gone on.

  Looking up from his notes, Captain Butler turned to him. “In regards to Dorma Schultz, Deputy Beck said he was going to put her on his rotation. So far, he hasn’t been able to get ahold of any of her next of kin.”

  “I spoke with a friend of mine who is going to join me on paying Miss Dorma visits, too,” John Michael said. “She’ll be looked after.”

  “Glad to hear that.” After assigning jobs for the morning, the captain pulled out his phone. “So, I wanted to give you an update on the suspicious fires,” he began, his voice turning more serious. “I received a memo late last night from the fire inspector and Sheriff Brewer.” He sighed. “The news is, there is no news. No other county in the state is experiencing an outbreak of this sort. And, beyond the usual holiday spike in robberies, the sheriff doesn’t have anything conclusive to report.”

  Hank crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s it?”

  John Michael thought Hank’s incredulous tone spoke for all of them. There had to be some way to stop the trend.

  “Unfortunately, yes. The sheriff’s department is going to try to up their patrols, but y’all know as well as I do that’s going to be hard to do. This is a busy time for all of us, what with the weather and the increase in vehicular accidents.”

  Pausing for a moment, he shoved his phone in the pocket of his jacket. “Is there anything else that we need to discuss? Anyone have anything to add?”

  “Nothing besides that I heard it was supposed to start sleeting this afternoon,” Sean said.

  “I’ll put extra blankets in each truck,” Hank said, then grinned, breaking the tension in the room. “And remind everyone that it’s Anderson’s turn to cook tonight.”

  “Best news I’ve heard all week,” the captain said, looking pleased. John Michael knew why, too. Anderson was the best cook in their firehouse.

  “What are you making?” he asked.

  “Chicken Kiev, rice, and steamed vegetables.”

  Hank grunted. “Sounds kind of healthy.”

  “It is,” Anderson replied. “We’re firefighters, idiot.”

  While the other men chuckled, the captain shook his head in mock annoyance. “Now that our dinner plans are taken care of, it’s time to get to work. Check your inventories, check your equipment, and help wash down the garage. It’s going to be a busy day.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Before an hour had passed, the bells were ringing and John Michael was putting on his turnout gear.

  “Miller, go with the pumper truck,” the captain ordered. “We’ve got a fire that erupted during another robbery.”

  His SCBA already on, John Michael jumped in the passenger seat of the pumper as it pulled out, following the flashing lights and sirens of the ladder truck down the street.

  Fourteen hours later, he was lounging in one of the recliners in the dayroom and nursing a couple of burns and a nasty cut on his left arm. He’d gotten both from their last call—an elderly couple’s home on the outskirts of town. The space heater they’d been using had faulty wiring and had sparked a fire.

  That spark—combined with the couple’s panic and the fact that it looked as if they hadn’t thrown anything out in the last thirty years—had created a good-sized blaze by the time their team had arrived on the scene.

  Praise God that the couple had survived, though all of them had gotten a scare when they saw just how close the couple was standing to the fire.

  Captain Butler had eventually learned that while the couple got right out to safety, their cat wasn’t as eager to run through the smoke. Presumably, it had hid. Both the husband and wife were standing at the doorway of their burning house and calling for it.

  And that sight had John Michael both shaking his head in frustration and in pity. Of course no one wanted to see a pet perish in a fire, but the couple very nearly lost their lives being so close to the burning timbers.

  Barely five minutes after he and Hank pulled the couple away, the porch came tumbling down. If the man and woman had still been standing there, they would’ve been crushed by the debris.

  After they were guided to safety, John manned the pumper truck, monitoring it and keeping in contact with the chief in case they needed to call for another unit.

  Luckily, it wasn’t needed. Within the next half-hour, the flames were extinguished and the couple was taken away in an ambulance.

  Only when the team returned to the firehouse and started cleaning up had John realized he sustained a couple of minor injuries. Sean spied the cuts and carefully treated them.

  Captain Butler had even questioned him, wanting to make sure that John hadn’t made a mistake in protocol or safety.

  Now, after eating a helping of Anderson’s chicken Kiev, followed by some chicken-and-rice casserole that volunteers had kindly brought by, all of them were trying to rest up.

  “As bad as this makes me sound, I kind of hate December,” Sean said. “We get so many calls like that last one. People using faulty heaters.”

  “That doesn’t happen just in December,” the captain murmured, his eyes on the muted basketball game playing on the television. “Y’all know we’re going to get these calls for the next three months.”

  “I know. But it just seems worse when there’s Christmas lights up.”

  “Can’t fault you there,” Hank said. “At least we haven’t had a Christmas tree fire today. I hate when we see the kids crying and saying that Santa isn’t going to know where to find them.”

  Sean glanced John Michael’s way. “What do you hate about this season?”

  John tried to come up with something that would make him sound like he was one of the gang, but he didn’t want to lie. “Not any of that,” he replied, feeling that he was about to sound a bit too positive or hopeful. “I guess I canna help but feel grateful that we’re here. If not for us, all those people could be even worse off.”

  Sean sat up. “Really?” he asked incredulously. “That’s all you can say?”

  John Michael felt his cheeks flush, but he didn’t back down. “My family used to live even farther out in the country. One day some brush my father was burning got out of hand. We lost a horse.”

  He took a deep breath, attempting to remove the memory of that awful day. “We didn’t have a phone, of course. And we lived so far out that it took awhile for anyone who did have a phone to call about it.”

  “Wow. I never knew you went through that,” the captain said. “That must have been terrible.”

  “It was. Losing that poor horse, and the barn, then worrying that we were going to lose our haus—and seeing my parents able to do nothing but stand hopelessly by as we hoped and prayed for help?—that was a difficult day, for sure.” Clearing his throat to push away the sudden lump that had formed there, he continued quietly. “I canna help but be grateful that we’re here helping people.”

  “Good point.” The captain clapped him on the shoulder. “Okay, men, I’m going to try to get some rest. I suggest you do the same. I’d be real surprised if we don’t get another call before dawn.”

  Sean stood up. “I’ll hit the sack, too.”

  John Michael felt his eyes get heavy, though he wasn’t sure if he would be able to rest or not. Now that he’d brought back up those memories, he knew all that would happen if he tried to lie down and sleep were nightmares of that fateful day.

  He decided to sit there a little longer. He never minded the silence and he could simply stare blindly at the game.

  Anderson stood up when another set of commercials came on. “Hey, John Michael?”

  “Jah?” he asked, realizing how far his mind had drifted since he’d forgotten to speak English.

  Sean stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What you said earlier . . . well, I’m just glad you did. Thanks.”


  Though John Michael was about to say it wasn’t anything, he elected to simply nod instead. He’d felt as if the Lord had given him those words.

  As if God had known that he needed to remember his value.

  Five minutes later, still in his chair, he fell asleep.

  And four hours later, he was startled awake by the bells chiming . . . and was rushing downstairs yet again.

  Chapter 20

  Grace had meant to leave Dorma’s house an hour ago, but there was so much to do she kept pushing back her departure. She’d made Dorma a chicken-and-broccoli casserole and some pumpkin scones. She’d also changed her sheets and did a load of laundry. For once, she was thankful that it was winter, with a clothesline for laundry in the basement. She could hang the sheets and towels there. And even if Dorma didn’t remember to go downstairs until Grace returned, the linens would dry and not be forgotten outside.

  Now they were sitting at Dorma’s freshly polished kitchen table and putting together a simple jigsaw puzzle that she’d brought with her.

  It had a cute Christmas scene. A snowman, lots of green trees, snow, blue sky, and some brown hares. It was a rather easy one—only a hundred pieces. At first, Grace was worried that even this was too much for Dorma.

  But after a shaky start, she seemed to enjoy the activity. Once she got another pair of pieces together, she looked up at Grace with a pleased smile. “Another match!”

  “Gut for you!” Grace said. “Before you know it, we’ll have half of it done.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes,” she said encouragingly. “But even if we don’t get much further today, it’s okay. I’m having fun working on it.”