His Promise

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.” He couldn’t help it; he grinned like a fool. “I aim to pay a visit to your father and ask for his blessing, Grace. I aim to marry you.”

  “Are you going to ask me?”

  “Of course. I’m going to do it right, though. At the right time, and at the right place.”

  “Now seems like a good time and this is a beautiful room.”

  “It’s a good time but not the right one.”

  She knew he was right, but she was anxious, too. “Do you think you’ll know when the right time is?”

  “Oh, for sure. We’ll be safe, all this trouble will be simply a memory, and nothing will be on our minds but planning our future. That will be the right time.”

  “I hope such a time and day exists.”

  “It will. I can promise you that.”

  “You can make that promise?” asked Grace.

  “Absolutely,” he said in that confident way of his. “We’ve waited too long for it to be otherwise.”

  “It’s getting late. We should probably go to bed soon,” Grace said.

  “How about you check on Dorma and I’ll walk around and make sure everything is locked up tight?”

  “The sheriff didn’t exaggerate did he?” asked Grace.

  “About the danger you’ve been in? Nee.”

  “I hope I’m not making a terrible mistake by insisting on staying here.”

  “We don’t know what Samuel and Benjamin are going to do. The sheriff doesn’t know, either. We just have to trust that the sheriff and his deputies are doing their jobs, just like I’ll do mine when I go back on duty.”

  She nodded as she walked up the stairs.

  Everything felt so out of order and off-kilter. She never imagined that she’d be so bold. Or that John Michael would talk about marriage like it was a certainty . . . but then just as confidently relay that the timing wasn’t right.

  She also never would have thought that they would declare their love for each other, talk about marriage . . . and not even kiss again!

  She was still dwelling on it all while she walked down the hall to Dorma’s room.

  Once again, her door was open. A dim ray of light was streaming into the hallway.

  Thinking that Dorma had forgotten to turn off her flashlight, she walked in the room.

  And found Dorma sitting on her bed, the precious box and the wealth of letters surrounding her.

  “Dorma, I didn’t realize you were still awake.”

  “I wanted to read my letters.”

  Grace sat on the side of the bed. “It’s a blessing that you have them still. Rereading them must make you feel close to Mr. Schultz.”

  She picked up one, fingered some of the writing, then rested it on her lap. “I suppose it does. Sometimes it just makes me sad, though.”

  “You loved him and miss him.”

  “I do miss him.” Gazing at Grace, she said, “Nothing is the same. I miss how things used to be.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “I am thankful to you for bringing me here.”

  “I meant what I said, I’m glad you are with me. I like your company. But you do know this isn’t my house, right? One day we are going to have to move out of here.”

  “What will happen to me then?”

  “You will go wherever I go.”

  Something in Dorma’s eyes settled. Clarity returned and it was so sharp, it fairly took Grace’s breath away. “You won’t leave me? You won’t abandon me?”

  Grace didn’t know what was going to happen next, but she did know that she wasn’t about to forsake Dorma again. “I won’t abandon you. As long as you want to live with me, you will. This I can promise you.”

  She blinked rapidly. “You’re a kind woman, Grace.”

  “I’m only saying what’s in my heart. That’s all.” She stood up. “Now, let’s clean up these letters and put them away so you can get some sleep.”

  “I am tired all of the sudden.”

  After they gathered everything up and Dorma placed the letters back in the wooden box, Grace picked it up. “Where do you want this?”

  She pointed to a spot on the floor next to the legs of the headboard. “There.”

  “Down on the floor? Truly?”

  “I can get to it easily, and no one would ever think of me keeping something so special on the floor next to the wall.”

  “I guess they wouldn’t at that.”

  After the box was safely put away, Grace turned off the flashlight and placed it on the bedside table. “Good night, Dorma. Sleep well. Remember . . . before we know it, it will be Christmas.”

  “And so it is.”

  Grace walked to her room down the hall, thinking of the beautiful conversation . . . and how her heart felt full to bursting.

  No matter what happened in the future, she’d had this evening, and that counted for a lot.

  Chapter 37

  As John Michael restlessly checked and double-checked his gear while Hank drove the ladder truck down the highway, he felt like all the training, all the sore muscles, the hardships, and the hours of the late-night studying had come down to this night.

  Less than eight minutes earlier, the bells had rung through the station house. He’d run down the stairs to his bunker gear, and Captain Butler had placed a hand on his shoulder and calmly told him the terrible news. His house was on fire.

  His hands had been shaking as he’d picked up his helmet and pulled on the hood. His head was in a frantic mess as he’d pulled on the straps of his SCBA gear and got into the jump seat.

  And now, when he usually took time to pray, his mind was blank.

  “Miller, are you going to be able to do this?” Captain Butler called out to him from the passenger seat. “Are you going to be able to stay focused on your job?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Hank drove through an intersection, blowing his horn at two vehicles, the captain turned to face him again. “You sure about that? Because we’re going to need a hundred percent from you.”

  “You’ll have that.” If it was the last thing he did, he was going to give everything he had to fight this fire.

  He just hoped they’d get there in time.

  What if they didn’t? What if his parents were trapped? What if they couldn’t get them out?

  What if they were already injured?

  What if they were already dead?

  “I know what you’re thinking, Miller,” Hank said, almost laconically as he raced down the highway. “But don’t do it.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve. I know my parents are home. And they’re older now. Anything could happen.”

  “Ha!” Hank exclaimed. “Did you hear yourself?”

  “Hear me say what?”

  “That anything can happen.” After he mumbled something and blared the horn again, he continued. “Anything can happen. Sounds like the Lord helping us out on Christmas, don’t you think?”

  John Michael felt a little affronted. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Of course not. I’m saying we have to think positive. We have to believe in ourselves.”

  “John, you need to grasp ahold of your faith and hold on tight,” the captain added.

  “I can’t seem to find it right now,” he admitted.

  “Then you better start praying,” Hank said.

  “I’ve been trying. My mind is blank.”

  “How about the Lord’s prayer, then? I can help you say it.” Without giving John Michael a moment to think, he boomed, “Our Father. Who art in heaven . . .”

  To John’s shock, the captain prayed into the microphone, as did Sean and Anderson, who were following behind them in the pumper truck. “Hallowed be Thy name.”

  Looking out the window, John Michael saw his house, saw bright orange flames shooting into the sky from the back of it.

  His house was on fire—and even from this distance, he knew it was going to be difficult to save much of the place he’d alwa
ys called home.

  But instead of feeling despair and fear, he finally felt the Lord’s will deep within him. A sense of peace surged through him as he at last joined in the familiar prayer. “Thy kingdom come,” he said, loud and clear. “Thy will be done.”

  The group of them continued together, their voices melding and calling up to heaven as one. John Michael had never felt the power of prayer more. Just as Hank pulled to a stop, John Michael said, “Amen.”

  The first sight of his house close-up nearly took his breath away. Almost half of it was wrapped in flames, and the heat that it was producing felt intense, even from his position inside the truck.

  But then, off to the side, he saw both of his parents. They’d gotten out. His mother was even holding one of the barn cats.

  “You see them, Miller?” the captain said gruffly as the three of them jumped out of the truck and started pulling line.

  “I do,” he said, thankful.

  “Then, do your job.”

  John Michael didn’t need any more incentive. He zoned everything out except for Hank’s directives, stayed by his side as they fought the fire with all they had for the next hour. Another truck and crew joined them and worked on saving the barn and the other outlying buildings.

  As the flames died down and the majority of the danger had lessened, John Michael was aware that an ambulance had arrived and some EMTs were guiding his parents toward the vehicle, warm blankets already wrapped around them.

  Thirty minutes after that, the captain gave the signal for them to shut down the hoses. Feeling both mentally and physically exhausted but also incredibly blessed, John detached his regulator and lifted his face mask. The cold night air felt like a soothing balm on his skin.

  They’d done it. He felt a burst of pride as he realized that they’d done their jobs well. The fire was out, and they’d saved the barn—and all the animals in it.

  Most of all, his parents were all right, too. He hadn’t lost them.

  At once, the knowledge of all he could have lost hit him hard. A lump formed in his throat. He closed his eyes and breathed through it. Said a fierce prayer of thanks.

  “John Michael.”

  He turned, realizing that Captain Butler was standing by his side. “Sorry, Cap. I didn’t mean to zone out. I’m fine.” He held up the hose. “I’ll finish folding—”

  The captain shook his head, cutting him off. “It ain’t that, son. It’s . . . well, we just got the call. There’s another robbery in progress.”

  “Boy, on Christmas Eve, too. Those guys have no shame, do they?”

  “It’s at the house closest to this one, John,” he said slowly. “The sheriff is right now on the way to the Lees’ house.”

  The ramifications of what the captain was saying hit him like a back draft, nearly forcing him to his knees.

  Grace and Dorma were completely alone.

  “Captain, I’m sorry,” he said in a rush. “I know you need me here, but I can’t let them face this by themselves. Could you let my parents know I’ll be back?”

  “Of course.” Captain Butler pointed to Chief Nolan who was waiting by his red SUV. “The chief is going to take you over there. Go. We’ve got this.”

  “Thanks,” he said as he started running over to him.

  He hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

  Chapter 38

  Snooze was howling. It was squeaky, loud, and sounded a bit like he was getting his paw chopped off.

  Awakening with a start, Grace sat up in bed, peering around the room. She’d taken to opening the blinds slightly when she went to bed. She enjoyed seeing both the moonlight and the first rays of sunshine in the early morning.

  Because of that, she didn’t need to see the digital clock by the bedside. She knew it was right before dawn on Christmas Day. She also knew something was very wrong, because by this time of the early morning, Snooze was fast asleep next to her in bed. For him to still be downstairs by himself was unusual.

  For him to be barking and carrying on? It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

  Just as she rubbed sleep from her eyes, she heard a clank, as if something had just fallen off a table downstairs. When Snooze started barking frantically, Grace scrambled out of bed. The chill in the air kissed her skin, raising goose bumps. As quickly as she could, she slipped into the thick robe her mother had given her as an early Christmas present.

  It was soft and cozy. Perfect to snuggle in on cold evenings. But terribly insufficient when it came to middle-of-the-night investigating. She wished she could take the time to get fully dressed. She was already feeling vulnerable. Investigating a disturbance in her nightclothes only made things worse.

  Pulse racing, she opened her bedroom door and peered down the long, narrow hallway. But it was all too dark; she couldn’t see anything. Usually, she would have used a flashlight or simply turned on the overhead lights.

  But something inside stopped her. Something was telling her that would be the wrong thing to do.

  Especially since Snooze was growling now. Mighty loudly, too.

  She took a hesitant step. She needed to help the dog, needed to see what was wrong . . . but was afraid of what she would find. If only John Michael wasn’t working.

  “What is going on?”

  Grace squeaked and practically jumped a foot in the air. “Oh, Dorma,” she gasped as she placed a hand on her chest and attempted to gather her breath. “You nearly scared the life out of me.”

  Dorma padded over in her thick robe and slippers. “You scared me, too. Snooze is barking.”

  “I heard him, too.” As if on cue, Snooze erupted in another frantic round of yips, followed by a tiny, fierce howl.

  Looking concerned, Dorma walked toward the steps.

  Grace grabbed her arm, pulling her back into the shadows of the hallway. “Nee, Dorma. Wait.”

  “But Snooze wants us.”

  “Jah, but we need to wait,” she said as quietly as she could.

  “Why?”

  Grace thought she knew why. Actually, it was pretty obvious. At last, after all the signs and all the warnings, they were getting robbed. “Bad men might be downstairs,” she said at last. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Though the hallway was dark, Grace’s eyes had adjusted enough for her to see Dorma shake her head.

  “We should get John Michael,” Dorma whispered.

  She heard a loud clatter, followed by someone talking. Chill bumps raced up her spine as well as a deep, dark reminder that they shouldn’t have been here in the first place. She could hardly count the number of people who’d told her to leave. But she’d been too stubborn and sure of herself to pay attention.

  “Grace, we must get John Michael,” Dorma repeated.

  “We can’t. He’s working tonight.” Suddenly, the obvious choice of what to do sank in. “Come on,” she said, taking her hand. “There’s a telephone in my bedroom.”

  When they heard Snooze bark and howl again, Grace thought Dorma was going to refuse, but she at last nodded and let Grace take her back down the hall. Once inside the room, Grace closed the door as softly as possible and dialed 911, explaining their situation to the dispatcher.

  The woman on the phone promised help would be there soon, but warned them to stay upstairs and wait quietly until the sheriff arrived.

  As soon as she hung up, Grace turned to Dorma. “Help is on the way,” she said, wishing she felt as confident as she was trying to sound. “All we have to do it stay put for a little while longer.”

  Through the closed door, they heard poor Snooze bark again shrilly before crying out in pain. Grace’s heart began to pound. Poor Snooze! He’d been hurt! He was probably so scared, too.

  Dorma walked over to the door. “Snooze is downstairs alone, Grace!” she said as if just hearing him for the first time.

  Grace hated that she was letting him down, but knew she had no choice. Keeping her voice firm, she said, “I know. He’s doing a good job defending th
e house. But we canna go downstairs.”

  Dorma wouldn’t listen. She turned the doorknob.

  “Miss Dorma, nee!” Grace rushed to her side and stopped her. “You must listen to me. I know what you want to do, same as me. We want to run downstairs and help Snooze. But we can’t. It’s just me and you here. The robbers could have a gun. We could get hurt.”

  Dorma pulled on her arm but didn’t try to open the door farther. When they heard a cabinet open, followed by the rustling of movement, she hung her head. Never had she felt so hopeless. Robbers were looting the Lees’ beautiful house. Sweet little Snooze was in danger and probably wondering why no one was coming when he was trying so hard to get their attention.

  This was all her fault, too. She should have left. She shouldn’t have acted so brave and invincible. She should have listened to everyone instead of being so stubborn. Now everything she had hoped she could stop was happening. Leaving them all in danger.

  “Miss Dorma, I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Everything.”

  As they heard more heavy footsteps and Snooze crying out again, the tears that had formed in her eyes began to fall.

  “Are you crying?”

  “Jah.”

  After studying her for a moment, Dorma touched her arm. “Faith, Grace,” she said softly, sounding more lucid than ever.

  She hated to admit it, but she wasn’t feeling much faith at all. All she had was a horrible sense of failure mixed with fear. “Dorma, if we hear the men come upstairs, I want you to go hide in the bathroom.”

  “Got will help us. You shouldn’t worry.”

  Dorma was right, the Lord had helped her time and again. But even though Grace’s faith was strong, she felt herself begin to have doubts. Bad things happened to even the most fervent of believers. After all, He didn’t promise any of them an easy life—only one filled with the promise of heaven.

  “Is it Christmas now?”

  The question caught her so much by surprise, she almost laughed. “Oh my stars, Miss Dorma. You are exactly right. It is Christmas.”