Pete hit his own brakes, then pumped them as his truck started sliding as well.
The little car suddenly spun around, then again, and slid backward into the ditch sending up a spray of snow.
Pete slowed down, came to a halt, and then backed up his truck to where the car sat, half-buried in the snow-filled ditch, and got out.
Sam zipped up his coat and followed Pete, pulling his gloves on, preparing for the cold that still surprised him.
“That idiot sure buried themselves in the rhubarb,” Pete said as he walked toward the car, pulling thin, leather gloves out of his pocket. He had his coat open, and the flaps of his hat bounced as he walked.
Obviously more acclimatized to the cold, Sam thought, shivering.
Pete waded right into the deep snow in the ditch and rapped on the driver’s window. When it rolled down, Sam recognized the driver as Lisa Grienke, the school secretary. Her dark hair, worn loose today, made her face look especially pale.
She looked about as cheerful as she usually did. Which wasn’t very.
But as he looked closer, Sam saw that Miss Grienke wasn’t angry. She had her hand on her chest as she breathed in and out, in and out, like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Her thin, plucked eyebrows framed blue eyes opened wide and staring at Pete.
“So, I’m guessing you want me to pull you out?” Pete said, a grin teasing the corner of his mouth.
Miss Grienke didn’t say anything, just kept staring at Pete.
“Are you okay?” Pete asked
“I think so.” She took another breath and pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I think I am.”
Pete stepped back, surveying the situation, squinting against the glare of the sun off the snow. “You well and truly buried this car,” he said, a note of glee entering his voice.
“Can you get it out?”
Pete waved off her concern with a flap of his gloved hands. “Piece of cake. Old Lazarus has pulled out bigger cars than this in his day.”
“Lazarus?”
“Uncle Pete’s truck,” Sam put in.
“So what should I do?”
“Have you ever been towed out of a ditch before?”
Miss Grienke shook her head. “I’ve never been in this situation. I just came from Mrs. Mitchell’s place to see her about a bed she had advertised in the paper.”
“At 8:30 in the morning?” Sam asked.
“It was the only time I could see her.”
“Sam, you’ll have to drive this car out,” Pete said as he waded through the snow back to where Sam stood. “I’ll bring the truck closer and hook up. Before you get in, see if there’s a place I can hook a towrope onto the car. You might have to push some snow away from the front end.”
Before he could protest, Pete was off.
Sam sighed, zipped up his coat, and trudged through the snow to the car. He’d never driven a car out of the ditch before.
Miss Grienke tried to push open the driver’s door, but the snow was piled up against it, so Sam kicked the snow away.
As she opened her door, she hesitated. Sam looked down and saw why. She was wearing high-heeled shoes.
“Oh dear, I hadn’t counted on this.” She bit her lip, chewing off her red lipstick as she looked with dismay at the snow, which was over Sam’s knees. “How am I going to get out?”
If you had worn the right boots, you’d be able to walk out, Sam thought.
Grandma and Grandpa’s constant admonitions to wear boots, regardless of how warm the weather might seem when he left the house, suddenly made sense.
How many times hadn’t Grandpa stopped him as he left the house in tennis shoes and made him put on boots, slip on a stocking cap, and make sure he had gloves along?
Now he knew why.
“I can’t walk through that snow,” Miss Grienke repeated, shaking her head.
Sam couldn’t help her and she wasn’t moving, so he pushed to the front of the car and started digging snow out with his hands and feet.
Pete came back with the truck, Miss Grienke was still sitting inside her car looking with distaste at the pile of snow beside it.
“What are you doing?” Pete asked her, unrolling a long heavy cord with a hook attached to each end. “You driving it out?”
“Of course not. But I can’t walk through this snow in my heels,” Miss Grienke said. “I hadn’t counted on walking through two feet of snow.”
“You wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t hit the ditch,” Pete returned as he tossed the rope aside. He walked around the car’s door, looked from Miss Grienke to the snow, then, to Sam’s surprise, bent over and lifted Miss Grienke right out of the car.
“What are you doing?” Miss Grienke said, pushing at Pete’s shoulders.
“Keep that up and we’ll both end up in the snow,” Pete replied, trying to regain his balance. He gently set Miss Grienke on a flat section of the road. “Shut the car door and get that rope hooked to the frame of the car,” Pete told Sam.
Sam did as Pete told him to, then crouched down in front of the car in the snow, feeling its chill through his pants. He squatted down, trying to figure out where to hook up the rope.
“Got it figured out?” Pete said, dropping onto the snow beside Sam.
“Not really.”
“Just make sure you don’t put it on the bumper. These cheap cars, you’ll rip it right off.” Completely disregarding the snow, Pete lay down and dug out some more snow. “Here we go. Tow hooks.” He hooked up the rope, then jumped to his feet. “You gonna drive?”
“I have no idea what to do.”
“Put the car in gear, wait for the rope to get tight, then hit the gas and don’t let off until you’re on the road.” Pete clapped him on the shoulder and grinned, his cheeks red with the cold, his eyes sparkling with his usual sense of fun. “You can do this, city boy.”
“I sure hope so.” Sam wished he had Pete’s confidence.
“Don’t hope. Do,” Pete said, growing suddenly serious. “Once I start pulling, you can’t wimp out on me. You have to keep your foot down and don’t back off.” Pete held Sam’s eyes, as if underlining the seriousness of the situation.
Then he turned and waded through the snow up to the road.
Sam got into the tiny car, adjusted the seat for his height, and pulled the door closed. Here goes nothing, he thought as he started the car and put it in gear. He felt a stab of nerves as he realized how new the car was and what could potentially happen if the hook came loose or if he wrecked something.
It would be all over school, he thought with a flush of dismay. People would talk. He would look like an idiot. Dumb city boy who doesn’t know anything about pulling cars out of the ditch.
He wanted to get out and walk away but he knew Uncle Pete, once he started something, wouldn’t quit until he succeeded.
The rope tightened, Sam put his foot halfway down on the accelerator, and nothing happened. Pete backed up, the rope went slack, and Sam thought he was giving up.
But no. Pete turned back and made a rolling motion with his hands, as if telling Sam to speed things up.
The truck pulled ahead again and Sam assumed he was to repeat the procedure. This time he did exactly what Pete told him to, punching the accelerator and then, miraculously, the car slowly moved ahead, tires wailing, snow flying in all directions.
Sam heard the whine of the tires of Pete’s truck as they spun on the snow-covered road, the racing of the car engine he was driving.
Please don’t let me wreck anything, he thought. Please let this car come out in one piece.
Slowly, slowly the car inched out and then, suddenly, it jumped onto the road, its own tires finally grabbing purchase on the snow. Sam slammed on the brakes; the car slid and came to a stop within a few feet of the bumper of Pete’s truck.
With a sigh of relief, Sam sat back against the seat, his heart still pounding. He did it. He helped Uncle Pete pull this car out. As far as he knew, nothing was wrecked.
&nb
sp; He got out of the car, relief making his knees weak, but at the same time, he felt a sense of elation.
“Good job, Sam,” Pete called out as he unhooked the rope from his truck. Sam followed his uncle’s lead and released the hook from the car, handing the end of the rope to Pete.
Miss Grienke hurried over to her car, checking it over.
“You’ll want to bring it to the tire shop or a mechanic to get the snow out of the tires and rims,” Pete was telling her. “They’ll probably be out of balance so you’ll want to drive slow.”
“Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” She unzipped her purse. “How much do I owe you?”
Pete frowned. “Owe?”
“For pulling me out,” Miss Grienke said, taking out her wallet.
“On the house, ma’am,” Pete said with an exaggerated salute.
“No, seriously.”
“Yes. Seriously. I don’t want your money.” Pete held up his hand to negate her offer. “It’s what we do out in the country.”
His actions surprised Sam. Uncle Pete was always trying to make the farm more efficient so that it could make more money. He and Grandpa often had discussions about this. And here he was turning down cash for helping someone out.
“Thank you so much.” Miss Grienke’s smile made Sam want to roll his eyes. Not even Miss Simons looked at Uncle Pete like that, and they were supposed to be going out. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”
“He helped too,” Pete said, pointing at Sam.
Miss Grienke turned to Sam. “You’re Charlotte Stevenson’s grandson, aren’t you? Emily and Christopher’s brother?”
Sam nodded, surprised she remembered him and even more surprised at her big smile—like she wanted something from him. From what he heard, Miss Grienke didn’t smile much.
“You’re getting a new student in your grade for a while. My brother. Adam.”
Ah. That was the point of the smile. And he figured Miss Grienke wanted him to be Adam’s new best friend.
“I was hoping you could help make him feel at home.”
Big surprise.
Sam shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”
“He’s starting today.”
“Okay. I’ll look out for him.”
Miss Grienke turned to Uncle Pete, her smile getting even bigger. “And thank you once again. For pulling me out of the ditch and … the rescue from the snow.”
To Sam’s surprise, Uncle Pete actually looked like he was blushing.
“We should get going,” Sam said. “I’m going to be really late if we don’t.”
“So you know that lady?” Pete asked, tugging down one earflap of his hat as Miss Grienke pulled past them and drove away.
“Yeah. That’s Miss Grienke, the school secretary.” Sam walked to the truck, hoping Uncle Pete would get the hint.
“She’s kinda cute, isn’t she?” Pete said as he got in the truck as well.
“If you say so.” Sam sighed. While it was fun pulling Miss Grienke out of the ditch, thanks to helping her out she had cornered him into being “friends” with her brother. And if her brother was anything like Miss Grienke, he would be running the other way.
“So you did good, Sam,” Pete said. “Thanks for the help.”
“Why didn’t you take her money?” Sam asked.
“Not neighborly. Out here in the country you help when you can because you never know when you’re going to need someone else’s help. There isn’t a tow truck service out here, and by the time one came from Bedford, she could have been freezing cold.”
“I can’t see Miss Grienke pulling you out of the ditch to pay you back.”
“Probably not, but it’s kind of like that pay-it-forward thing people were talking about awhile ago. You just do what you can.”
“Grandma would say it’s our Christian duty.”
“Grandma would say a lot of things” was Pete’s terse reply.
Sam wondered what he meant but then shrugged it off. He didn’t have time to figure out his Uncle Pete. What he had to figure out was how he could avoid this new complication in his life named Adam.
He was just starting to click with the guys in his own class; he couldn’t afford to alienate them in any way.
Chapter Four
I packed all their play clothes in one suitcase, their dress clothes in another. Madison sounded like she had a cough coming on so I packed cough syrup in her cosmetic bag.”
Anna tapped her manicured fingernails against the sleeve of her gray tailored suit as she surveyed the suitcases in the porch. “Just to be on the safe side, I packed enough for Jennifer as well. Best keep the girls away from the farm animals as well. Toby is okay, but they shouldn’t pet her, or that cat of Christopher’s.”
Charlotte stood in the doorway of the porch, trying to keep track of the instructions. Jennifer and Madison were already inside and, Charlotte suspected, playing with Christopher’s cat. She said nothing.
Bill shouldered the porch door open and stepped inside. He was pulling another medium-sized suitcase and two small bags, which he held out to Charlotte. “Where do you want these, Mother?” Bill asked.
“What are they?” Charlotte was about to take them from her son when Anna intercepted them.
“Their cosmetic bags.” Anna unzipped the one, checked the contents, passed it on to Charlotte, and then did the same with the next one. “I would prefer if you could keep them in your bathroom away from—” She fluttered her hands, her red fingernails flashing. “I mean … you know. The girls should be able to get into them whenever they want.”
“Of course.” Charlotte understood the underlying message of Anna’s words. She didn’t want Emily or Christopher or Sam getting at the girls’ personal toiletries. Because, goodness knows, they might drink all the cough syrup.
Charlotte pushed aside the unkind thought. “I’ll make sure they stay in our bathroom downstairs.”
Anna’s bright red lips widened in a smile. “Thank you, Mother. That would be wonderful.”
Anna held her hand out for the other suitcase and handed it to Charlotte. “Now this is very important. The girls’ schoolwork, like I told you. Their teachers have given me all the work they’ll be missing. It’s imperative that they do their work every day in order to keep up with the schedule. Please verify whatever you’ve done each day.” Anna’s diamond ring flashed in the overhead light as she wagged her finger to underline her orders.
Imperative. Schedule. Verify. Charlotte felt a shiver of apprehension as she lifted the suspiciously heavy suitcase and set it just inside the kitchen. She had imagined playing games and doing crafts with the girls, not schoolwork.
“You also need to know that Madison has been struggling in school, so it’s very important to maintain continuity.”
Charlotte suppressed a sigh.
Anna turned to Bill. “So, I think we’ve gotten everything together. We should probably leave as soon as possible.”
“Are you sure you don’t have time for a cup of coffee?” Charlotte asked. “Bob should be home in a half an hour or so. I’m sure he’d love to see you before you leave.”
Anna shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we have to get going. Bill?” Anna arched her eyebrows toward her husband. He nodded his agreement as he buttoned up his overcoat.
“We don’t want to miss our plane,” Bill said as he gave Charlotte an apologetic smile.
“I’ll go get the children then.”
Just as she suspected, she found them in Christopher’s room.
A few books lay scattered over Christopher’s bed, along with a couple of Bob’s farming periodicals. She wondered what that was about and made a note to ask Christopher later.
Jennifer and Christopher were lying on the rug, dragging a string with a button across the floor for Lightning the cat. The silk ribbon that previously held Jennifer’s curls back lay on the floor, and her white shirt had a streak of dust along the calf.
Madison
sat primly on the bed, hands folded in her lap, watching. Her pink ruffled shirt was still neatly tucked in her white pants, her bow still perfectly tied.
“Your mom and dad are ready to go,” Charlotte told the girls.
“Okay,” Jennifer said, her attention focused on slowly dragging the button across the floor in front of the bed. Charlotte saw one white paw bat at it from beneath the bed and had to smile. She was sure Jennifer had hundreds of dollars’ worth of toys at home, and yet she got as much pleasure out of a simple string and a five-cent button.
“I think you should come and say good-bye,” Charlotte said gently. “You won’t see them for a few days.”
Madison dutifully got off the bed. “Come on, Jennifer. That cat isn’t going to come out.”
“He will. I just have to be patient, like Christopher said.”
“Mom and Dad are waiting,” Madison announced, her arms folded over her chest. Any minute Charlotte expected her to stamp her foot.
Jennifer sighed, pushed herself to her feet, and trudged along behind Madison. They met Emily coming out of her room. She held a notebook, her pencil stuck between her teeth.
“You shouldn’t put that in your mouth. You’ll get sick,” Madison said helpfully.
Emily lifted her eyebrows in an exaggerated expression and started chewing on the pencil.
“Eww. Now you’re really going to get sick.”
“Probably.” Emily took the pencil out of her mouth and inspected it. “Maybe I’ll die from lead poisoning.” She pressed her hand to her chest as she stumbled sideways. “Oh no. Maybe I’m dying now.”
“Emily,” Charlotte chided her oldest granddaughter, but she couldn’t help the note of humor that entered her voice.
Emily liked to tease her young cousins and really knew how to get Madison going.
“Let’s go, girls. Your mom and dad are waiting.”
“They’re still here?” Emily asked. “I thought they were long gone.” She sighed and headed back to her bedroom.
An Abundance of Blessings Page 3