Inside he found that not one room would be suitable to shelter a child. He might as well do what the social worker said and get on the list for help. Jessica wouldn’t want her baby with strangers. Steve wouldn’t want his daughter raised in foster care. The sooner he had help, the sooner he could make a home for Kara.
Chapter 2
T he day after the storms, Pastor Walt Mattson stood before his Wednesday evening congregation with a special plea for help. “Folks in Lakeland have been hit hard. Four people lost their lives in two tornadoes that ripped through the town. Many are without homes while others begin the seemingly impossible task of cleaning up and rebuilding. We’ve prayed for them, but we can’t stop there. Until you see the destruction a tornado leaves, you can’t imagine what these people face.”
He motioned to the ushers in back. “Gentlemen, if you will start the sign-up sheets circulating, I’ll explain a practical, hands-on way we can help.”
Amanda sat with her parents and listened. “Churches and civic organizations are asked to provide volunteer workers to help the citizens of Lakeland and the surrounding area rebuild. Of course they need carpenters and plumbers, but their immediate need is workers who can pick up brush and bricks or wood pieces. I can’t begin to list the debris scattered everywhere. If you are an able-bodied man or woman and have any free time, please consider donating a few hours to this worthy project. I’m hoping to take a crew of at least five or six from our church this Saturday. We’ll be assigned an area and will likely work together.”
Amanda took the sign-up sheet and wrote her name on the list. She understood the hollowness of loss. Her heart ached in sympathy. Their homes gone or damaged within moments. Others had lost even more through death.
Saturday morning, Amanda drove her rental car to Lakeland in a caravan of two other vehicles. Linda Maddox rode in the front with her while an older couple sat in the backseat. Linda’s daughter Sarah was Amanda’s best friend from high school, and Linda had always been a second mother to her.
As they neared Lakeland, signs of damage came into view, but nothing seemed especially devastating until they turned off the highway and drove into the populated area just past the city limits sign.
“Oh, will you look at that?” the woman in the backseat said.
Amanda shuddered at the destruction on either side of the road as she followed the pastor’s dark blue sedan. Thankfully the street had been cleared, but she didn’t need much imagination to see that piles of bricks, shards of glass, and pieces of buildings on either side had, only days ago, covered the pavement where they now drove.
Some houses suffered roof damage, while many more littered the area up to the edge of the street. On one corner, a floor without walls held nothing except a bathtub and toilet. From her car, Amanda saw a roll of toilet paper sitting between the fixtures even as Linda gasped.
“I’ve heard of tornadoes doing things like that, but I’ve never seen it before. How could the wind totally remove an entire house, yet leave something as light as a roll of paper sitting on the floor?”
Amanda shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m amazed there weren’t more deaths here. Only four people died and a few injuries were reported, yet we’ve already driven past at least a dozen totally destroyed houses.”
A group of people worked by the side of the street, sorting through the mess as they loaded pickup trucks with trash to be hauled away. Amanda itched to stop the car and get out to help. There was so much to do and so few working. How would the town ever be cleaned up?
A brief stop at the county courthouse gave them their assigned location. After driving a few miles into the country, they turned onto a gravel road for a short distance before stopping at a house that appeared to be untouched.
Amanda shared a look and a shrug with Linda as they got out of the car. She closed the driver’s door and stood for a moment taking in the peaceful scene. The one-story ranch-style house looked well taken care of. A couple of wooden slat chairs sat on the inviting front porch with a small matching table between them as if waiting for company. The soft green of the house blended harmoniously with the manicured lawn. A flagstone walk curved from the driveway to the front steps.
To the left, several feet back from the house, a cement floor, collapsed walls, and rubble marked the place where a barn once stood. The wind had been selective in its destruction. There, the ground held evidence of its fury.
“Good morning.” Pastor Mattson’s greeting brought Amanda’s attention to the others gathered in a group near the house. “I’m Walt Mattson, pastor of Community Church in Litchfield. This is John Sinclair, Rick Harrison, and Ron Kimbel.”
He continued calling off names, but Amanda stopped listening as her gaze focused on the man who moved among the helpers shaking hands and smiling as the workers were introduced.
Her heart skipped a beat before pounding furiously when she recognized who they would be working for. What had it been? Thirteen years? Fifteen? No, she couldn’t fool herself into believing she didn’t remember. Fourteen years and seven months ago her heart had been broken by the very man who now stood across the yard watching her.
“And Amanda Wilson, who is still leaning against her car. Come on, Amanda, and join us. This young man is Chad Randall. He will be showing us what needs to be done.”
Amanda pushed away from the car and circled the group to stand beside Linda, as far from Chad as she could get. Her heart thundered in her ears until she couldn’t hear what he or the pastor said. She sought the calming effect of nature in the peaceful scene of several cows grazing across the fence. Taking several deep breaths, she questioned what was happening. Lord, why of all the places needing help, did You send us here? What was Chad doing here, anyway? He’d married and moved away. Of course, so had she, but that was different. He should have stayed away.
“We’ll be glad to help you any way we can.” Pastor Mattson’s voice again penetrated Amanda’s befuddled brain. He turned to the women in the group. “Ladies, as you can see, the yard there by the barn has enough broken limbs and lumber to keep us all busy. Chad says a large tree in the backyard fell against the house during the storm. He’s been unable to remove it without help. For today, would you mind working in the yard, picking up usable lumber and firewood while we men concentrate on removing the tree?”
Elva Harrison gasped and covered her mouth before saying, “Oh my, did the tree do a lot of damage?”
Chad sent the hint of a smile toward the older woman. “Not as much as it could’ve. A branch broke through the peak of the roof, but didn’t touch the attic floor.”
His gaze shifted to Amanda as if speaking to her. “My niece’s bedroom is directly under the trunk of the tree. If I have anything to be thankful for in all of this, it’s that the tree stopped when it did. She was in her bed when it fell.”
Amanda couldn’t tear her gaze from his. In that moment, time became irrelevant as their past fell away and her heart ached with his pain. At the mention of his niece, she understood his loss. He’d had only one sibling. Jessica. Had she married her high school sweetheart? Were they the man and woman who had died here? Jessica and Steven. Jessica with her laughing blue eyes and dark brown hair so like Chad’s. At one time she and Amanda expected to be sisters. The work project became personal as she shared Chad’s grief.
A soft smile touched his lips before he looked away, breaking contact with her.
The men began moving toward the backyard. Amanda nodded at a truck in the driveway. “I see a wheelbarrow sticking up in the back of Brother Kimbel’s truck. I’ll get my gloves from my car; then I’ll lift it out. Did you all bring gloves?”
The two older ladies, Mable Kimbel and Elva Harrison, wore long-sleeve shirts tucked into their blue jeans. They each had on wide-brimmed hats to cover their gray hair and shade their faces. Mable wiggled her gloved hands and smiled. “I’m ahead of you, Amanda.”
Elva nodded. “Yes, you two girls get your gloves and let’s get to work.”
Linda, who was the same age as Amanda’s mother, whispered as she and Amanda hurried to the car. “Being with those two sweet ladies makes me feel young again.”
Amanda laughed. “I know, but I have a feeling we’ll be putting out some effort to keep up with them.”
She heard a chain saw revving on the other side of the house. “I didn’t know anyone brought a saw.”
“I don’t think they did. It was probably already here.” Linda pulled her gloves on and headed toward the barn.
Amanda hurried to catch up. A cold chill chased up her back as she thought of Chad trying to cut through a large tree by himself. He could have been hurt. She shouldn’t care. But she wouldn’t want anyone hurt, not even Chad.
Elva and Mable had already started dragging broken tree branches into a pile by the barbed wire fence separating the yard from the pasture. While they did that, Amanda and Linda made piles of usable lumber near the cement floor that had been the barn. Most were useless for anything other than firewood and those pieces went into the wheelbarrow to deposit across the yard.
“I wonder how far away pieces of this barn are scattered?” Amanda asked.
Linda stretched her back as she looked across the now peaceful countryside with grazing cattle and a cloudless blue sky. “Probably not so far, but on the other hand, part of it could have gone for miles before falling back to the ground. It’s hard to tell, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, sort of like some of the mistakes we make in life.” Amanda watched Chad walk around the end of the house. “Mistakes cause damage. Sometimes far-reaching, sometimes not so far.”
Linda followed her line of vision. “Chad Randall. He’s grown into a fine-looking man. Is he one of those mistakes you’re talking about?”
Amanda turned her back to Chad, covered her face with her hands, and then peeked through her fingers at Linda. “You remember.”
Linda laughed. “Of course I remember.” She held her finger and thumb together without touching. “You and Chad were this close to getting married. Next thing I knew, you vamoosed to California and the wedding was off. Before your exit dust settled, you’d married someone else. Sarah never did tell me the particulars. Did she know?”
Amanda shook her head. “No.”
She tossed more wood on the wheelbarrow, working frantically for several minutes. Linda worked alongside her without pressing the issue. Finally she stopped.
“All right. Keep your secrets. I wasn’t asking anyway.” She put her hands on her hips, breathing hard. “Let’s not try to finish the entire yard in the next ten minutes, okay? Maybe you can keep up with our elderly friends, but I can’t.”
Amanda straightened with a broken length of wood in her hand. “I’m sorry, Linda. It’s just seeing him again. I mean I didn’t know he was anywhere within a hundred miles of here and there he stood looking…” She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them a tear hovered on her lashes and she brushed it away. She whispered the one word. “Vulnerable. He looks so sad and I want to cry for him.” She gave a short, harsh laugh. “He broke my heart and I feel sorry for him.”
Linda’s voice was soft, sympathetic. “Can you do this?”
“Work for Chad?” Amanda nodded. “Sure. I’ll keep my distance and we’ll get along fine.”
Linda lifted her eyebrows. “Didn’t the pastor say we are sent to help clear the destruction, but maybe for another purpose, too? Maybe Chad has a need that our church can reach. Maybe you need to reach out and let God heal all these old hurts. Maybe that’s why you’re here at this exact moment.”
Amanda tossed the broken lumber at the wheelbarrow. “Maybe so. Looks like this is full.”
Linda grabbed the wheelbarrow, pushed it to the pile of firewood, and dumped it. Amanda was glad she didn’t press the issue. She was a special lady. Part friend and part mother. As her best friend’s mother, she’d done her share over the years of making sure both Amanda and Sarah behaved. She’d always been ready with a word of advice or encouragement when they needed it. Amanda might pretend to brush her insight and wisdom aside, but she knew she would be thinking about their conversation later when she was alone.
They worked hard through the morning to the tune of the chain saw and the men’s voices calling to each other. With the sun straight overhead, Elva and Mable joined them. “We’ve decided someone needs to tell the men it’s time to eat.”
“Amanda, why don’t you do that while we set out the ice chests? Ask if there’s a table we can use.” Linda turned away with the other two ladies and headed toward the driveway where the vehicles were parked.
Amanda watched them, her hands on her hips, and muttered, “Thanks to you, too. Surely you aren’t trying to push me toward Chad just so I can forgive him and forget some long-ago hurt I scarcely remember anyway.”
She did an about-face and started toward the house with a shrug. She’d show Linda. She wouldn’t remember the night Chad hurt her. With more self-restraint than she knew she had, she forced her mind from the vivid details slithering at the edge of her memory and concentrated on finding her pastor.
The house sat at an angle facing the driveway. She reached the end of the house and stopped short of slamming into Chad as he barreled around the corner.
He caught her by the shoulders and then jerked his hands back as if burned. “I’m sorry.” He blinked and shook his head. “Mandy?”
His pet name for her, a name she allowed no one else to use, sounded natural coming from him.
She didn’t speak. He stepped back. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I want you to know how thankful I am for your help. You and the group from your church. We’ve made good progress. We’ll have the tree cut up into firewood for the fireplace before the day’s over.”
“Oh, is it down already?” She stepped to the side and looked past the corner of the house so he couldn’t see into her eyes. He might read something that wasn’t there. A fog enveloped her brain. Her heart set up a rapid beat.
Beyond a good-sized deck, which covered the closest half of the house, men still worked. Sawdust littered the ground near a huge log that held several large branches. Leaves and broken sticks covered the area, and a large pile of brush leaned against the back fence.
“Yes, it is.”
“What is?” Had she asked a question?
“The tree. It’s down.” His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “You look wonderful, Mandy.”
She swung toward him and searched his face without responding. She froze, memorizing every change, every detail she’d only dreamed of for fourteen years. She should be angry with him. She shouldn’t stand this close to him or even speak to him. But she found no hurt, no bitterness, and no anger in her heart.
Only a response she didn’t want. A response to his presence she couldn’t afford. That and curiosity.
Where was his wife? Did he have children?
A thousand questions begged for release, but she asked only one. “We need a table for lunch if that’s possible? We’ve already started getting food out and need a place to put it.”
He nodded toward the deck. “There’s a table with benches. We can eat out here. I’ll pass the word.” With that he turned away.
She leaned against the end of the house. As she waited, her heart slowed to a normal beat. A fluffy white cloud drifted past, and she concentrated on it. Like a silly schoolgirl, she let an encounter with her past get way out of proportion. So she once loved Chad. That was long ago. She’d married a wonderful man, and they’d had far too short a life together. Jeffrey. Why did his blond hair darken and his face become Chad’s when she tried to bring him to mind? She closed her eyes and gave her head a quick shake to rid it of the troubling thoughts, then pushed away from the house.
She went back to the front yard. Maybe Linda was right. Maybe she shouldn’t stay, but she couldn’t leave without creating a scene. After today she wouldn’t come back.
When she reached the front only Linda waited. Amanda forced a smile. “So
where’s the food?”
Linda smiled as if she knew something. “They took the ice chests through the house to a deck in back. Let’s see what this house looks like. I must admit, I’ve been curious all morning.”
They stepped into the living room. Other than quilts folded on the sofa, the room appeared clean and neat. Amanda assumed Chad slept there the night before. A wide arched doorway opened into the dining room on the back of the house. As they stepped through the arch, they saw where Chad had been trying to clean. Cardboard covered the windows in both the dining room and the kitchen so the rooms were dark and gloomy. She wondered what he wanted them to do, but didn’t pursue the thought as the men picked that moment to come inside for more chairs.
After they set out the food, Pastor Mattson prayed and silence fell while everyone helped themselves to sandwiches, potato salad, casseroles, chips, and an assortment of soft drinks kept cold in ice.
With their hunger satisfied, the men began chatting. Amanda paid only enough attention to their conversation to know they were talking about the tree that had been wedged against the house. Rather than listen, she watched Chad join in and laugh with the other men. His smile sent her pulse racing and that annoyed her. She crossed her arms and turned her back toward them. She didn’t need the complication. She could ask to be assigned to another location. Or maybe she should start looking for a summer job.
“Seems odd the barn was destroyed and the house almost untouched.” Linda’s voice penetrated her musings.
She nodded. “Yes, but tornadoes do strange things. I don’t imagine any two are alike.”
“I heard there were two that night. I wonder if both touched down here.”
“Yes, they did.” Chad leaned against the railing near them.
Amanda’s traitorous heart leapt.
He looked out to where the barn once stood. “The first one damaged the barn. The neighbor said it looked like Steve went out to check the damage. He thought maybe Jess heard about the second tornado on the radio and ran out to tell him. They didn’t make it back to the house before it hit.”
Route 66 Reunions Page 33