“Jake,” Marc said, “you have three minutes to wrap up.”
“Thank you, Marc. I’m going to turn the microphone over to Sam Waters, Connie’s son, and the inspiration for this project.”
Mia hadn’t noticed before, but Sam was in his formal ROTC uniform. He traded places with Jake and Pirate, cleared his throat, and thanked Jake for allowing him to speak. Now seated in the front row with Pirate, Jake answered with a silent nod, and Sam began.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here tonight to persuade you to support a cause that honors my mother by helping the sons of fallen heroes—like her. When you’re a teenager, losing a parent is about the worst thing that can happen. Your entire world spins out of control, and the person who knows you inside and out is gone.
“I wouldn’t be wrapping up a college degree and wearing this uniform if it weren’t for Jake. In short, he taught me how to be a man. Those lessons changed my life, and I want other kids to have that opportunity. Thank you.”
Lucy clapped so hard her chair shook. Mia clapped just as hard, but her thoughts were with Jake.
After a nod from the moderator, Bill Hatcher, his face etched with rage, leaned over the microphone. “That’s all very nice. I appreciate our young soldier. I think we all do. But look at him!” He jabbed a finger at Sam. “Do you think he’s typical of the messed-up kids Tanner wants to bring up here? I don’t.
“I have one goal, folks. I don’t want anyone—and that includes Jake Tanner and his family—to be the victim of a crime, especially one that could have been prevented. Especially a crime as horrific as arson. If we open our town to this camp, we will all be in danger.
“Trust me, folks. That risk is not worth taking. If Jake knew how it felt to see his home burn to the ground, he’d agree with me. Thank you all for coming tonight. I trust you’ll join me at the County Commissioners’ meeting on October tenth. Together we can put a stop to this nonsense.”
The crowd on Hatcher’s side erupted in a cacophony of clapping, shouting, stomping, and chanting.
“Stop. The. Camp.”
“Stop. The. Camp.”
The noise slapped at Mia’s ears. She could only imagine what it sounded like to Jake. Finally, when Hatcher left the podium, the outburst faded to a roaring conversation.
Mia slipped out of her empty row, hugged Sam, said hello to Frank, then moved toward Jake to offer congratulations on a job well done. Before she reached him, a small crowd hemmed him in. A couple of men slapped him on the back; a few others shook his hand. Mia waited with Lucy, who looked adorable in a new pink maternity top.
Jake glanced in her direction a couple of times, but she couldn’t read his expression. Did he appreciate her support, or was he worried because she had publicly taken his side? Either way, she wasn’t the least bit sorry she had moved up to the front.
When Lucy joined Sam, Mia glanced again at Jake and saw him talking to Kelsey and a woman she guessed to be Kelsey’s mother. Knowing how Kelsey felt about Jake, Mia stayed where she was, close enough to hear without being involved.
“You were great!” Kelsey said to him.
Jake shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and focused on Kelsey’s face, maybe to read her lips. “Thanks. I appreciate your support.”
“Of course!” Kelsey laid her hand on his arm, her face full of concern. “I can’t believe the awful things Hatcher said.”
Jake eased back from Kelsey’s touch, glanced at Mia, and called for her to join them. She didn’t want to get caught in something personal, but she couldn’t leave without speaking to him.
She greeted Kelsey’s mom first, told her what a great job her daughter did, then turned to Jake. “You and Sam were terrific. I think you even changed a few minds.”
Jake’s mouth pulled into a frown. “Maybe. But I’m starting to hate the color orange.”
“Me too!” Kelsey stepped closer to his side, as if she belonged there.
Jake eased back again, subtly but with enough intent that Mia wondered how Kelsey could miss his signals. On the other hand, what signals had Mia missed with Brad? When it came to romance, she no longer trusted her instincts.
“Hey, everyone.” Jake raised his voice to include Frank, Sam, and Lucy. “How about coffee? I’m buying.”
“Sure.” Kelsey smiled up at him, her cheeks glowing pink. “We can plot out what to do next.”
Mia heard the we and felt sorry for them both, but not sorry enough to get in the middle.
Ignoring Kelsey, Jake turned to Frank. “How about it, Dad? You can take Mom a white chocolate brownie.”
Frank shook his head. “I need to get home. You can bring it for her. In fact, get a dozen. I’ll hide them for later.”
Sam looped an arm around Lucy’s expanding waist. “Count me out. I have to pack for LDAC, and Lucy and the baby need their sleep.”
Mia wasn’t about to be a fifth wheel. “Sorry. I need to work on my Mission Medical interview.” A lame excuse. Kelsey and Jake both knew she was fully prepared.
“Are you sure?” Kelsey asked, obviously not meaning it.
“Positive.” Mia looked up at Jake, saw the tight line of his mouth, and knew how badly he wanted to discourage Kelsey without hurting her feelings.
Their group headed for the exit. Frank, Sam, and Lucy made it out the door, but a woman stopped Jake with a question. A small crowd of supporters gathered, blocking his path. Kelsey stayed at his side, but Mia slipped away.
As she turned to wave good-bye, Kelsey mouthed, “Thank you!”
Mia drove home feeling both lonely and relieved. Coffee still sounded good, so she made a cup of decaf, took it to the couch, and dropped down in front of the cold fireplace and a mantel lined with photographs, including a new one of Lucy and Sam taken at the wedding.
What had the chaplain said about marriage? Something about imperfect human beings and God’s love being boundless, battle-tested, and bold. Mia sipped her decaf, pondering the lonely beat of her own heart. As a little girl, she had felt loved by God and trusted Him easily. God never let her down, but people did. They disappeared from her life the way her father had, suddenly and without a good-bye. Or like her mother, who had said good-bye a hundred times before she slipped away.
And what about the good-byes that cut like a knife? The college fiancé who had cheated on her. And Brad, who left her because she wasn’t enough. Not young enough. Not fun enough. Not pretty enough. And maybe because she hadn’t been willing to sleep with him before the wedding.
If she had, would they still be together? Maybe, but it didn’t matter. Mia was proud of her choices, but sitting alone on her sagging couch, staring at a cold fireplace and Lucy’s wedding picture, she couldn’t help but wonder what she was missing and might miss the rest of her life.
Sighing, she curled her feet under her thighs. She might never have a husband, but her faith was strong enough to take her on a new adventure. Her partner in life was God. How could she complain about that?
The King of kings was on her side.
The Prince of Peace would fight for her.
Drawing strength from her faith, she used her phone to visit the Mission Medical website. Clicking through the links to their various programs, she imagined herself organizing vaccinations in Ghana and caring for orphans in Bangladesh.
She was reading an inspiring blog by Dr. John Benton, the plastic surgeon who operated on kids with cleft palates, when a text message alert popped onto the screen. She saw Kelsey’s ID and read, Thanks for ditching tonight. Coffee was nice.
Mia read the message twice, couldn’t think of a thing to say, and decided to deal with Kelsey and her crush in the morning. Two seconds later, her phone hummed again, this time with a message from Jake. Thanks for coming tonight. Just hope you don’t pay for it.
A warm glow lit her up on the inside. She shot back a reply. I’ll be fine. You’re doing something good. Proud to know you!
He replied immediately. Likewise. She thought he was done, but a s
econd text popped up on the screen. Missed you at coffee.
“I missed being there,” she said to no one. Then she sent back Ha! I’m not getting in Kelsey’s way!
Just a few seconds passed before Jake answered. I wish you would.
Mia’s fingers froze on the phone. “I wish I could, but—” Instead she texted, She likes you a lot. Too much, huh?
No kidding. There was a pause, then a second word bubble appeared. Sleep well, detective.
Somehow the nickname felt like a kiss. Was she crazy for not exploring the delicate feelings fighting their way to the surface? What was the harm in testing the waters with a real date? She didn’t have the answer to that question, except that she was either crazy or a coward.
Crazy? No. She was too careful to act foolishly.
A coward? No. She was wise to be cautious.
Another word struck, and it resonated down to her marrow. Committed. The word fit her to a T. She had made a commitment to serve God through Mission Medical, and if they offered her the job, she would keep that promise. How could she not? God had cracked open the door with the job in Echo Falls, and He had opened it even wider when she made the cut for panel interviews.
For better or worse, Mia was determined to honor God. Human beings might let her down, but her heavenly Father never would. “It’s you and me, Lord,” she said out loud. “I won’t let you down either.”
Chapter
12
Jake hated politics, but he cared about Camp Connie enough to walk up and down Main Street with an armload of flyers and Pirate at his side as a goodwill ambassador. He intended to drop in on stores ranging from the dry cleaners to the lumberyard and to ask to leave a stack of flyers for customers to pick up if they wanted.
No ugly orange posters.
No drama.
The flyers were Kelsey’s idea, and she had pulled them together with pictures from Jake’s phone. Instead of a burning house, the flyer displayed pictures of Sam and his friends. Underneath were five bullet points that promoted the benefits of the camp to local businesses.
Jake appreciated Kelsey’s help, but he wished she’d give up on him. Mia wasn’t helping either. That coffee invitation had been for her, a bridge between her reluctance and a real date with just the two of them. As much as he wanted to ask her out, it wouldn’t happen until she indicated she might say yes. And that wouldn’t happen tonight, because Jake was driving Sam into the Springs to catch a flight to Louisville for LDAC training at Fort Knox.
He had just three hours to hand out his flyers, so he picked up his pace.
The owner of the hardware store was neutral on the camp but glad to help Jake out.
Alice at the Brownie Emporium told him to pin them to the bulletin board. She liked the idea of more business, but she didn’t want the mess made by teenagers.
The real estate office was his next stop. Without exception, the four realtors loved the idea. They wanted to sell and rent houses, so the more people who knew about Echo Falls, the better.
Jake headed to Blackstone Apothecary next. Charles Blackstone, a pharmacist for forty years, was on Hatcher’s side, but he was also a fair man. Jake rounded the corner into the parking lot and saw a pile of shattered glass below a gaping display window. Charles, dressed in a white coat that matched his hair and trim moustache, wielded a broom with enough force to send particles of glass into the air.
From what Jake could see, the window had been broken from the outside, with most of the glass falling inward. He approached Charles but stayed several feet back to protect Pirate’s paws.
“Looks like a break-in,” Jake said.
The pharmacist stopped sweeping but kept one hand on the broom, holding it like a flag planted in sand. “It happened last night.”
“That stinks.”
“You bet it does.” Charles aimed his chin at the broken window. “Good thing I put in that silent alarm. Deputy Ross roared up and caught them red-handed.”
“Who?” Jake asked, not wanting to hear what he already suspected.
“A couple of teenage boys up here for the weekend.” Charles raised a brow at him. “They came in yesterday with one of their moms to pick up suntan lotion. They seemed like nice kids.”
Hint, hint. Jake ignored the inference. “That’s a tough break. Crime happens everywhere. Even here.”
A snort huffed through the pharmacist’s nose. “Sure it does. But we don’t have to invite more of it. That’s why I’m siding with Bill. You need to read the Letters to the Editor in tomorrow’s Echo Falls Gazette. We filled four pages.”
Just what Echo Falls didn’t need. More vitriol. More fear. The scathing comments rankled Jake down to his boots. He itched to fight for his cause, but not with Charles. The pharmacist was a family friend.
Jake indicated the broom. “Want some help sweeping up?”
Blackstone shook his head. “No, thanks. But, Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“I went to high school with your dad, and I’ve known your mom since they moved up here as newlyweds. Her illness is tragic. So is what happened to you. You’re a good man.”
Jake waited for the but.
“But I don’t want a bunch of kids coming and going in this town. You can talk all you want about supervision and moral duty and making a difference, but all it takes is one bad apple, and you have a tragedy like what happened to Bill. I know the logic, the big talk, the Christian thing to do. I also know that a couple of idiot kids busted my window because they wanted to steal cash or drugs, or just make trouble. They succeeded too. I have a mess on my hands and an insurance claim to file. Those two brats just gave me a month of headaches.”
There wasn’t much Jake could say, especially with the shards of glass sparkling in the sun.
“So do us all a favor. Rethink this camp of yours.”
If only he could. . . . Jake wanted peace of mind, not more trouble. Somehow the camp meant to honor his partner and friend was destroying his hometown. Connie would have been deeply troubled by the fighting, maybe enough to back down. But how could pulling the plug on Camp Connie be the right thing to do? If Jake didn’t fight for kids in need of leadership, who would?
“I can’t do that,” he said to Charles.
“You could. You just don’t want to.”
He met the older man’s gaze with a firm one of his own. “You have a point. But I’m committed to this project. I have good reasons.”
“Yes, you do. I just hope the town doesn’t blow apart.”
“So do I.”
The pharmacist went back to sweeping glass. Jake turned to leave, but Pirate nosed him and he turned back, catching Charles’s voice.
“Jake? One more thing.”
He waited.
“If your home or business had been vandalized, I bet you’d think twice about starting this camp.”
“That’s a valid point.” Jake didn’t add that his whole life had been vandalized by the bombing suspect. “But I have an equally valid point. If you knew what his mother’s death did to Sam, you might change your mind too.”
Charles merely grunted, then went back to sweeping.
Jake walked away with Pirate at his side and the flyers in hand. He felt sorry for Charles. Bill Hatcher too. But to honor Connie, Jake would fight for the camp until the final vote by the Board of County Commissioners.
But at what cost? With Mia’s voice in his ear, he went back to distributing flyers.
“I wish I didn’t have to go,” Sam said to Lucy as he slung his empty duffel bag onto the bed.
“Me too.” A month without Sam? She didn’t know how she’d survive.
They were in their room in the back of the Tanner house, savoring a few minutes alone before Jake drove Sam to the airport. I will not cry, she told herself, at least not until after we say good-bye. If she was going to be the wife of an Army officer, she needed to be strong for both Sam and the baby.
Sam lifted a stack of white T-shirts out of the dresser and began
to refold them. Lucy did their laundry, but she couldn’t make creases the way Sam did.
He glanced at her tummy while he worked. “How’s Beanie Baby today?”
At sixteen weeks, the lima bean was now the size of an apple. Unfortunately, Lucy was still spotting and still on pelvic rest. Sam was great about it, but Lucy felt terrible. It was awfully hard to feel like a good wife when you couldn’t make love to your husband.
Aside from the spotting, Lucy was in what Mia called the sweet spot of pregnancy, those middle weeks between morning sickness and feeling like a whale. When Sam returned, they would go together for the standard twenty-week ultrasound, an anatomy scan that would tell them the baby’s gender and give an update on the placement of the placenta.
She laid her hand on the baby bump. “He’s doing great. I just wish he’d kick so you could feel it too.”
“I’ll feel it when I get back. By then he—”
“Or she.”
“—will be kicking like a soccer player.”
Lucy tried to pull off a smile, but her lips squished into a trembling line. Turning away, she pushed off the bed and pulled Sam’s socks out of his drawer. He folded them into neat little balls.
“You’re good at that,” she said with a sigh.
“It’s just practice.”
“I don’t think so.” Some people cut straight lines with scissors, and others, like Lucy, just couldn’t do it. “I could practice all day, and you’d still end up with sock-puppet zombies.”
Sam flashed a smile, the one that made her melt. “I happen to like sock-puppet zombies.” He picked up one of the messy pairs and pretended to stalk her with it.
Giggling, she grabbed a pair out of the drawer and battled back. Somehow the socks ended up on the floor, and she ended up in her husband’s arms, kissing him as if he were leaving for a year rather than a month.
The kiss both shattered her resolve and strengthened it. Easing back, she dared to look into his eyes. “I want to be a good wife.”
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