Through the Fire

by Christine Lynxwiler

  “Uh-oh. I’m afraid to ask.” He could feel his ears grow hot, but he grinned.

  “No, nothing bad.” She chuckled. “Even though I called your mom and told her how much I appreciated the things she sent, I know I didn’t really thank you like I should have. . .for all the help you gave me, both during the fire and after. I was hoping I’d get a chance to tell you that.”

  “No problem. As a matter of fact, here’s your chance to pay me back.”

  “Really?” She drew her eyebrows together. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m starving. I was hoping you might take pity on me.”

  “Sure.” The twinkle was back in her eyes. “I’ve got some peanut butter and jelly in the back. I’ll be glad to fix you a sandwich.”

  He resisted the urge to agree just to see her shock. “I was actually hoping you’d eat at Skinny’s with me.”

  In her clear green eyes, he could see the emotions flicker as she considered his request. The mental tally must have ended in his favor, because she nodded. “Let me grab my purse.”

  “I don’t suppose it would do any good to tell you I wanted lunch to be my treat.”

  “Nope, I don’t suppose it would,” she replied, looking rather smug.

  “I’ll settle for what I can get,” he muttered under his breath as she left the room again.

  Seven

  Jessa’s hands shook as she retrieved her purse from the tiny shelf in the back room. “I was just thinking about you”? What kind of thing was that to say? She had been thinking about him, of course, and she’d been so surprised and happy to see him that the words had popped out.

  She pressed her hands against her warm cheeks. If she wasn’t more mindful of her words, he’d get the impression that she was interested in him as more than a friend. And since he had “protector” stamped all over him, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

  Still, a girl had to eat.

  With that reassurance, she hurried out to meet her lunch partner.

  As they stepped into the sunny day, Clint motioned toward the Jeep with a questioning expression on his face.

  “Let’s walk.” Jessa tilted her face to the blue sky, admiring the clouds that wafted by like dandelion seeds blown by a wishing child. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Yes, gorgeous.”

  She looked at him sharply. He offered her a crooked grin, but she still couldn’t tell if he was referring to her or simply agreeing with her assessment of the day.

  They strolled in comfortable silence to the little eatery on the corner. Clint held the door and, once at the table, pulled a chair out for her. If he was trying to impress her, it was working.

  The waitress brought the menus, hand lettered and fancifully colored with crayons. “The special of the day is a pecan chicken salad sandwich with fresh sliced tomatoes and a garden salad.” She pulled out her pad and poised her pen as if at the starting line of the Indy 500. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Sweet tea,” they chorused.

  “Alrighty then.” The waitress, whose name tag proclaimed her to be Darlene, smiled. “You all must have been together a long time.”

  “About ten minutes,” Clint quipped and grinned.

  Jessa smiled at his easy manner.

  Without missing a beat, Darlene slapped Clint playfully on the shoulder. “Do y’all know what you want to eat? Or should I come back with your drinks?”

  Jessa nodded. “I’ll have the special.”

  “Make that two.”

  “Dressing?” The waitress arched one eyebrow.

  “Ranch,” they said simultaneously.

  Jessa braced herself for Darlene to make some further comment, but the waitress apparently remembered belatedly that she might want a tip when the meal was over. She left without another word.

  “She must have remembered her tip,” Clint said with a wry grin.

  Jessa put her hand to her mouth. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Oh, no.” Clint looked furtively around the room. He held up his napkin-wrapped silverware like a microphone and lowered his voice. “Little did the beautiful florist realize on that ‘gorgeous’ August day, when she wandered into Skinny’s Eatery that she was entering another dimension. . .one where you couldn’t have an original thought. Because Skinny’s was a secret portal to. . .‘The Twilight Zone.’ ”

  Jessa burst out laughing. “You just disproved your own theory. I never would have thought of that in a million years.”

  “Yeah, but it still wasn’t an original thought.” He hummed a few bars of the theme song to The Twilight Zone and grinned.

  “You’ve got a point.” Jessa chuckled again. “One of my favorite authors has a saying on her books, ‘Expect the Unexpected.’ Maybe I should make that my motto concerning you.” She hoped he couldn’t hear her heart slamming against her ribs. He’d definitely called her beautiful that time.

  “I’ve had worse said about me.” Clint sat back as Darlene returned with the tall glasses of tea and placed them on the table.

  “Thanks,” Clint said, smiling at the waitress. “Do you have any straws?”

  Darlene pulled one out of her brown apron pocket, then looked at Jessa, who blushed but nodded. “I’ll take one, too, please.”

  “Umm-hum.” The waitress handed Jessa a straw, pursed her lips, and hurried back to the kitchen.

  “So how do you like camping out?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Jessa drawled. “The stars aren’t quite as bright as they were when I was young.”

  “Sore back, huh?”

  She grimaced and unwrapped her straw. “Killing me. If I don’t get a bed soon, I’ll have to find a chiropractor who offers a frequent-visitor plan.”

  “I know you think I’m going to remind you that there’s a perfectly good bed at Mom and Dad’s.” Clint took a sip of his tea.

  “Even if I was thinking that, I’d never admit it out loud.” She brought her finger to her lip in a shh motion and nodded toward Darlene, who was filling coffee cups two tables over.

  “Well, you’d be wrong anyway. I was just going to say that you can get an inflatable mattress or even a foam mat to go under your sleeping bag.”

  She nodded. “I think the blow-up kind would take up too much room. The other might work, though. Good idea.”

  “Even though I’m not sold on it making a good home for you, I like what you’ve done with The Flower Basket. With Mom’s obsession with flowers, I’ve been in there several times over the years. It was always a nice shop, but you’ve given it flair.”

  “Thank you,” Jessa murmured, but the pleasure she felt was immeasurable.

  “Have you always wanted to be a florist?”

  “No, not really.” She chuckled. “When I was little, my burning ambition was to be a roller-skating carhop, but then as I grew older, I realized how much pleasure flowers bring to people. So, I sacrificed my dream job for a lifetime of arranging flowers.”

  “So, in other words, that bouncy ponytail is all that remains of your childhood dream.”

  “Well, yeah, that and the roller skates tucked in my—” She drew in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling as if she’d been sucker punched. She didn’t even have a cedar chest anymore, much less her treasured roller skates.

  Understanding shone in Clint’s blue eyes, and he took her hand across the table. “There’s nothing wrong with grieving some material things, Jessa.”

  She ducked her head as hot tears splashed down her cheeks. How could he know how guilty she felt for crying over an old pair of skates?

  “People mean well when they say, ‘It’s just stuff,’ but they’ve never been through a fire.” The tenderness in his voice soaked into her weary heart like a soothing balm. “I know those skates held memories that weren’t captured anywhere but in the cracked leather and tied together laces.” He rubbed her finger softly with his thumb. “Anywhere but your heart, that is. It may be harder to remember without the tangible item, but you can do it if
you try.”

  “Thanks.” Her voice came out husky, and she cleared her throat. His words had been exactly what she’d needed to hear.

  “Two pecan chicken salad sandwiches with garden salads on the side.” Darlene placed their lunches on the table with a flourish and slapped the empty tray against her thigh. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  They shared a cautious look and shook their heads.

  “I was afraid to even think of asking for anything else,” Jessa said after Darlene had disappeared into the kitchen. “Just in case you were about to ask for the same thing.”

  “Do you like tomatoes?” Clint asked suddenly.

  “Love them.”

  “We’ve broken free of The Twilight Zone then. I can’t stand them. As a matter of fact, you can have mine.”

  “Whew. I’m glad we’re out of there. It was making me nervous.”

  “Really? I thought it was kind of fun, agreeing on everything.”

  “Well, it didn’t make me nervous enough to take away my appetite.” She cleared her throat and grinned. “I’d love to have your tomatoes.”

  He carefully transferred the red slices to her plate.

  Jessa hesitated, but when Clint didn’t make a move to say the blessing for the food, she bowed her head and silently thanked God for the delicious-looking meal. She had no idea if he prayed or not, but she noticed he didn’t pick up his own fork until she looked up. They ate in silence for a few minutes.

  “This is delicious,” Jessa exclaimed. She looked around at the crowded tables. “No wonder this place is packed.”

  “Skinny is a legend around here,” Clint said. “And he’s famous for his desserts.”

  “Dessert?” Jessa asked. “How can anyone eat dessert after filling up on this mouthwatering food?”

  Clint shrugged. “We’ll have to drop by some Saturday afternoon and just have dessert.”

  “Our ‘just’ desserts?” Jessa quipped, but the meaning of his words sent her pulse racing. That sounded suspiciously like plans for a date.

  ❧

  When Clint got back to the apartment, the dog scratched at his leg, anxious to go out. Jessa would owe him one when she got back a completely housebroken puppy.

  The thought of Jessa brought a smile to his face as he walked along the water’s edge with the dog. He’d never met a woman like her. Her sense of humor and interests meshed with his so completely.

  The yellow pup stretched out at the edge of the water. Clint yanked on the leash, and the puppy yelped.

  “Sorry, you little rapscallion. You were about to fall in.”

  He was no better than the dog, he thought ruefully, fascinated by something he had no business pursuing.

  Jessa needed a strong man who could protect her and take care of her, not a man who’d lost his faith and his courage all in one fell swoop.

  Eight

  Jessa carried the mat in and shut the door behind her. It had been three days since Clint’s suggestion, and even though she hadn’t heard from him anymore, she’d decided to take his advice. After Seth left with his final delivery for the evening, Jessa ran down to the dollar store and bought a rolled up rectangle of bright red foam that proclaimed Kindergartener in proud yellow letters.

  As she unrolled it and slid it carefully under her sleeping bag, she resisted the urge to try it out. She needed to wash her hair and clean up the best she could. She’d always heard of girls who stayed home on Friday nights to wash their hair, and now she was about to join their ranks. It would be a change. Usually she stayed home on Friday nights to read a book.

  With a towel around her shoulders, Jessa bent over the deep sink and turned the faucet on to test the temperature. With no warning, water spurted from the faucet in every direction. She screamed and reached for the knobs, but no matter how she turned them, water continued to squirt out willy-nilly, until she was completely soaked and standing in a puddle of water. Finally, she pushed down and gave the knobs one more hard twist. The deluge stopped as suddenly as it had started. She sputtered and swiped at her eyes. A loud knock sounded on the back door.

  She hadn’t heard from him since Tuesday, but with his penchant for showing up unexpectedly, it could only be Clint McFadden. Heedless of the water running off her, she squished through the back room and yanked open the door.

  Elaine McFadden smiled at her uncertainly. “Are you okay? I thought I heard you scream.”

  Speechless, Jessa nodded, then stood back and let Clint’s mother in, closing the door behind her. She could feel the rivulets of water still streaming down her face.

  “What happened?”

  “The faucet attacked me, and I couldn’t get it to stop.”

  Elaine took the towel from Jessa’s shoulders and dabbed her face. “Should I call the police?” From anyone else, the motherly gesture would have irritated Jessa, but coupled with Elaine’s pseudo-serious question, instead it struck her as funny.

  Both women burst out laughing.

  “If the police are coming, I’d better make myself more presentable.” Jessa flipped her head over and deftly wrapped the wet towel around her dripping hair in a turban.

  Elaine looked around at the small room, and Jessa followed her gaze. The tiny round table with the three books and Bible lying atop it. The rickety shelf holding the folded clothes. And the pillow and sleeping bag in the corner with the red mat peeking out precociously.

  Elaine waved a hand around the room in an exaggerated gesture. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

  They giggled again.

  “Thank you, dahling. It was just something I threw together.” Jessa leveled her gaze on Elaine. “With the help of a very sweet woman.”

  “Pshaw. You do go on.” Elaine flopped one hand in the air.

  “No fair. I’ve never actually heard anyone say ‘Pshaw,’ ” Jessa protested.

  “Me either.” Elaine’s blue eyes, so much like Clint’s, sparkled. “But you started it with ‘dahling.’ ”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  “You and the water faucet, too. Maybe I should call the police.” Elaine grinned. “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here.”

  “No. Telling you on the phone wasn’t enough. I’m glad to get a chance to talk to you in person,” Jessa said. “To let you know again how much I appreciated the wonderful things you sent.” She grabbed another towel from the bathroom and padded back in to where Elaine had begun to mop water from the floor with a paper towel.

  “It was fun getting the things together.” Elaine stood and helped Jessa drape the extra towel around her shoulders. “But not as much fun as it would be if you’d come stay with us until you find a place.”

  Jessa knew in an instant that Elaine was sincere. She really would enjoy having Jessa around, and Jessa would enjoy it as well. She looked at the sleeping bag in the corner, and her hand instinctively went to her sore back. Then she touched the turban-twisted towel around her still dirty hair. If she stayed with the McFaddens for a few days, she could at least get a warm shower and sleep in a real bed.

  Elaine showed no signs of wanting to take over her life. Jessa felt her stubborn streak slinking away to the corner.

  “The allure of clean hair and a soft bed is more than I can resist.” She smiled at Elaine. “But I promise I won’t impose for more than a few days.”

  “Let’s get you moved for now.”

  For the next ten minutes, they loaded everything back into the black garbage bag. Still wearing the towel on her head, Jessa carried the bag to her car, and Elaine deposited the sleeping bag, rolled mat, and pillow into the backseat.

  “Follow me,” she called happily, as she climbed into her SUV.

  “Gladly,” Jessa said under her breath, as she slid into her car.

  ❧

  “Something smells delicious.” Clint walked into the kitchen. His mom looked up from where she was slicing tomatoes and smiled. His dad carefully extracted a pan of rolls from the oven and w
aved them teasingly under Clint’s nose.

  Clint grinned. It still startled him a little to see Jeb McFadden working in the kitchen. For the first thirty-five years of their marriage, he hadn’t exactly been a chauvinist, but deep down he’d definitely considered kitchen duty women’s work. Since Jeb’s retirement, though, Clint’s mom had opened up his eyes to the joy of cooking, as well as many other things.

  His mom just had a way about her. Which would explain Jessa’s car in the driveway.

  “Are we having company?”

  Elaine shook her head. “No, just us and our houseguest.”

  Clint stole a dill pickle slice off her perfectly arranged plate. “You’re feeling proud of yourself, aren’t you?” He popped it into his mouth and when he’d finished, reached for another. His mom was too fast for him and slapped his hand with the salad spoon. “Ow!”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m feeling pretty proud of Jessa. Sometimes it takes a bigger person to accept help than to refuse.”

  The festive mood in the kitchen grew serious for a second. His mother was the queen of unspoken references. “Uh-oh, now that you’ve got Jessa settled in, you’re back to me.” He hugged her. “I promise I’ll accept help if I find any for what ails me, Mom.”

  “You know where to find it. You’ve just quit looking to the right place.” She sprinkled cheddar cheese on the green lettuce.

  His dad nodded, but Clint could see sympathy in his face. Jeb understood what it felt like to be caught in Elaine’s crosshairs, especially when she was dead right.

  Clint shifted uncomfortably. He knew his bitter anger toward God bothered his parents. But the turmoil inside him was too great to pretend otherwise. He attended church services largely because he hated to see the worry on his parents’ faces. Everything he’d counted on his whole life had shifted the day Ryan died in the fire.

  “Knock, knock.” Jessa’s voice broke the silence in the room.

  Clint stared at her as she walked in. What had happened to the cute little freckle-faced redhead with wild hair and upturned nose?