Through the Fire

by Christine Lynxwiler

  Resentment boiled up inside of her. Her dad had always done that. Jessa’s not cooperating, her mom would whisper; then her dad would put on his most cajoling smile and bribe her or offer her the moon.

  Don’t go out with the gang, Jessa. Look, we’ve hired a band and called a caterer so you can stay home with us, where you’ll be safe.

  She stood. “I guess we’re definitely not in “The Twilight Zone” anymore. We do have original thoughts, after all. I’m going to go get ready to climb.”

  He nodded and stared at the ground.

  Jessa walked across the yard and resisted the almost overpowering urge to look back.

  ❧

  Clint looked at the clock by his front door again. Jessa’s car had pulled out of the driveway five hours ago. He’d kept himself busy while she was gone—taken Rapscallion for a run, done a couple of sets of push-ups, and taken a shower.

  But, for the last thirty minutes, as dark spread across the sky, visions of her broken body at the bottom of a cliff had haunted him. Since Ryan’s death, it was all too easy imagining losing someone he cared about.

  The thought hit him with a jolt. Jessa was someone he cared about. But he couldn’t possibly pursue a relationship with a woman who viewed risks as a way to feel alive. Especially not when he wanted to wrap her in cotton and protect her from harm.

  Headlights flashed across the front window, and he peeked out. By the yellow glow of the streetlight, he recognized the blue car turning into the driveway. Relief coursed through him like a raging river. He collapsed into the overstuffed chair by the window.

  He looked heavenward.

  Thank You for keeping her safe.

  Eleven

  Jessa hurried into the shop, her arms full of greenery. She’d bought extra from the delivery man today, in addition to what she’d ordered. There were two funerals tomorrow, one morning, one afternoon. Since both people had died on Sunday, the orders had flooded in this morning. With Doris out sick, Jessa had her work cut out for her.

  She was glad to be occupied. It had been over three weeks since she and Clint had argued about her going rock climbing. She had seen him several times at supper, and he had been cordial, but like her, he’d kept his distance. They hadn’t had one real conversation since that day.

  She knew she should be happy. But her heart had ideas of its own. She missed his sense of humor and their close connection.

  Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she yanked open the glass door of the cooler to place some greenery in it. To her dismay, the normally cool air was barely lower than room temperature. Her heart sank. The coolers were full of flowers.

  Both coolers were the same temperature, which made no sense. They ran on different compressors. For that matter, when was the last time she’d heard either compressor kick on?

  She blushed even though she was alone in the shop. Her mind puzzled on Clint so much these days that she hadn’t paid any attention this morning to the sounds she knew by heart.

  With a sudden feeling of dread, she squatted down and looked behind the coolers at the electrical outlet. Both plugs lay on the floor. Irritation flared up inside her. She hurriedly plugged them in and sat back on her heels as the droning compressors kicked on simultaneously.

  Thank You, God, for letting me find it before the flowers were ruined.

  Sabotage? Had the same person who had dismantled her faucet unplugged her coolers? Suspicions flooded in. Had Doris called in sick today so she didn’t have to share responsibility for not hearing the compressors?

  She forced the unpleasant thoughts from her mind and worked feverishly on the funeral sprays in between walk-in customers. Before she knew it, it was closing time. She’d managed to do all the orders for Seth to deliver to the funeral home.

  When the teenager showed up, she searched his face for any indication of guilt but saw none. If he unplugged the coolers, he needed to take his acting talents to Hollywood.

  “Seth, will you be seeing Ruby tonight?”

  He looked up from where he was arranging the sprays in a carrier. “Probably.”

  “Would you tell her and Evelyn that I’ll be stopping by to see them soon? I’ve been meaning to, but I just haven’t yet.”

  “Sure.”

  After Seth left, Jessa determined that she would make more of an effort to be friendly to Clint. Maybe if she diffused the tension between them, she could get her mind back on her business, where it belonged.

  ❧

  When Clint walked into the kitchen, his mom and Jessa had their heads together chattering like two magpies as they prepared a salad. Instead of ignoring him like she’d been doing for the past three weeks, Jessa beamed at him. His breath caught in his throat. She ought to have a license for that smile.

  “Clint! Your mom has the best news. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, next door, are leaving tomorrow to go to Florida for the winter. They won’t be back until summer.”

  “Is that good news?” He looked at his mom. “I thought we liked the Andersons.”

  Jessa rolled her eyes. “That’s not the good part. The house is fully furnished, and they want to rent it to me until they return, for a fraction of what it would normally cost.”

  Elaine reached out and wiped her hands on a towel that hung from the cabinet handle. “Actually, they would love for her to just house-sit for them, but she insisted on renting it.”

  That figured. Guarding her precious independence. He didn’t know who had done a number on her, but it was definitely a doozy. He realized both women were waiting for his reaction. What could he say? All in all, it would probably be best if he didn’t see her every day. “That’s great.”

  His mom placed a platter of barbecued chicken in his hands, and he dutifully carried it to the table. Just as he reentered the kitchen, the cell phone clipped on his belt rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and his mind spun. It was Ryan’s widow, Becky. He hadn’t talked to her since the funeral.

  Twelve

  “Mom, I have to take this call. Y’all go ahead and start without me.”

  He felt Jessa’s gaze on him as he flipped open the phone and headed toward the back door.

  “Hello?”

  “Clint. How are you?”

  Tears edged his eyes. He hurried off the porch and out toward the water’s edge. He’d never expected to hear from her again. Not after he told her, at her insistence, what happened in the fire that had claimed her husband’s life. “I’m okay. How are you?” Such a silly question, but all he could think of to say around the lump in his throat.

  “I’m doing well. Still missing Ryan every day, but God is getting me through it.”

  Her words stabbed like a knife. She was missing her husband because Clint hadn’t been able to get to him. “Is God getting you through it, Clint?” The tenderness in her voice twisted the blade. “Are you letting Him?”

  “Not really.” He half-sobbed, half-gasped, fighting valiantly at the tears. He’d had enough tears to last a lifetime. “I’m not real happy with Him. And I’m even less happy with myself.” He put the heel of his hand against his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.

  “I wish you could understand. Ryan was ready to go. He basically told you that before he died. He always knew that was a chance he took, being a fireman.” Becky’s voice became thick with tears. “If he knew you lost your faith because he went home to be with God, he’d be devastated. He loved you like a brother.”

  “I loved him, too. I’m sorry, Becky. I tried to get to him.” His sobs were shaking him now. He couldn’t stop them.

  “I know that. But he’s waiting for us. And you can’t live your life if you keep blaming yourself. Everyone knows there was nothing you could have done.”

  “What about God? If He’s so mighty, couldn’t He have done something?”

  “Clint.” Becky sounded disappointed in him, and it was almost more than he could bear. “You know the Bible says that everyone has a time to go. It was Ryan’s time. God’s ways aren’t for us
to understand. But we know they work together for good for those of us who love Him. And no matter what you think right now, I know you do love Him.”

  He broke in. “Beck, I really can’t talk about it right now. I love you, but I just can’t. I’ll call you soon.” He flipped the phone shut and lay back on the grass, gulping air into his lungs, which burned like he’d run ten miles. For a long time he gazed at the starry sky. What was wrong with him that Ryan’s loving widow could go on with her life, but he couldn’t?

  ❧

  Saturday dawned bright and sunny, and Jessa murmured a prayer of thanks. When Doris had offered to take care of the shop today so she could move, Jessa had gratefully taken her up on it.

  She’d opted to load things into her car and drive them around rather than track across the dewy grass. Sadly, she thought, she could get everything in one trip. Her old landlord had insisted that the things Jessa had stored in the shed were fine there indefinitely, and since the Andersons had their own summer things in their shed, Jessa really had no choice.

  Jeb and Elaine had left early to drive to St. Louis for the day. Their youngest son was a pitcher for the Cardinals and had a home game today. Jessa packed her clothes in the two suitcases Elaine had loaned her for that purpose and lugged them out to the car.

  “Hey.” Clint stood at the edge of the driveway with Rapscallion on a leash. “You moving out?”

  “Yep.”

  He looked at the sky. “Nice weather for moving.”

  “Yep.” She cringed. Had she forgotten to wake her vocabulary this morning? “I’m thankful.”

  When she had just finished packing the plastic tub with her toiletries, Clint appeared in the doorway. “Need any help?”

  “You’re a little late now,” she said tartly, then immediately regretted it.

  Without speaking, he lifted the plastic tub, carried it to her car, and loaded it in the trunk. She followed behind him with her pillow and trusty sleeping bag. “I think that’s it.”

  “I’ll walk over and help you unload.”

  “Okay.”

  As she drove the short distance to the next driveway, she mused on the odd turn of events. Maybe they would manage to be friends without wanting more. It would certainly be nice if they could.

  Thirty minutes later Clint carried the last load in. “While you unpack, why don’t I run to the store and get some charcoal and steaks? You deserve a housewarming celebration after all you’ve been through.”

  Jessa nodded. “That sounds fun.”

  After Clint left, Jessa examined the house that would be her home for the next several months. Considerably more modest than the McFaddens but still much larger and newer than the cabin, it was just right for her. It had been really nice of Clint to think of celebrating.

  Just as she finished putting everything away, he knocked on the back door.

  “Just wanted you to know I’ve got the grill going.” His crooked smile once again lit up his normally brooding face. “And I’ve brought a few things to go with the steak.” He handed her a plastic grocery bag.

  “Oh, good.” She peeked in at the salad fixings and frozen cheese toast. “Great! I’ll go get them ready.”

  “Give me a five-minute head start on the steaks.”

  “Will do.” As she hurried into the kitchen, her spirits soared. She had high hopes she would be able to be friends with Clint McFadden without any complications.

  When they sat down to eat, she turned to her guest. “Will you offer thanks for our food?”

  His face turned red, but he nodded. “Dear God, Thank You for this food. Please bless Jessa in her new home. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

  “No, that’s okay.” He fiddled with his fork for a minute, then looked back up. “I’m not on very good terms with God right now. But I’m working on it.”

  She nodded. That explained the brooding eyes. “Thank you for your prayer.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She tasted the steak and closed her eyes. “Mmm. . .you are a wonderful chef.”

  He laughed. “Don’t let my brothers hear you say that. We’ll have more grilled meat than we know what to do with. It’s kind of a competition between us.”

  “Well, you would win.”

  “I’ll make sure you’re a judge next time we all get together.” He grinned. “By the way, I’ve been wondering. Did you ever have any more incidents like your broken faucet? Besides the phone call?”

  She nodded. “Actually, yes. Monday afternoon I discovered that both coolers were unplugged. There’s no way that could have been an accident. Two separate plug-ins.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “No. I know, I know. I probably should.” She poured a liberal dollop of ranch dressing on her salad. “But I just feel silly. Nothing was hurt. I found them in time to save the flowers.”

  “Do you like a little salad with your dressing?”

  “Hey!” She put her arms protectively around her plate. “At my house, we’re not allowed to talk about each other’s eating habits.”

  “At your house, huh? You’re pretty proud, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. And you had the honor of being the first friend I had over.”

  “Sure, sure, but I had to help carry things and cook the meal to get invited. I’m not sure what kind of deal that is.”

  “Well, if I’d have known you were such a complainer, I’d have asked someone else.”

  ❧

  An hour later, Clint picked up the Frisbee and flung it to Jessa. She jumped to catch it, but Rapscallion leaped for the flying disc at the same time, and they went tumbling to the ground together.

  Clint ran to her. “Are you okay?”

  She sat up laughing, then frowned at the worried expression in his eyes. “Yes, I’m fine. You might want to check on your dog though. I think he cushioned my blow.”

  Clint stared at her a moment, then chuckled. “I’ll get you for animal cruelty if you don’t stop throwing your weight around.”

  Rapscallion, seemingly anxious to prove his good health, grabbed the Frisbee and took off across the yard. Jessa jumped up and, taking the challenge, ran after him. But within seconds, he ran behind Clint’s leg and barked at her from his safe haven.

  She pulled up short, right in front of Clint, gasping for air.

  “Whoa, there.” Clint reached out an arm to steady her.

  She leaned against him without thinking. He brought his other arm around her, and she relaxed, the tension of the last few weeks draining from her.

  “I’ve missed you.” His voice was husky with emotion.

  “Same here.” She looked up at him.

  His blue eyes darkened. Just as he lowered his lips to hers, Rapscallion leaped up between them, barking wildly.

  She jumped back. Clint bent down and clipped the dog’s leash on him. When he stood, his penetrating gaze seemed to see into her soul. “I’d better go.”

  “Yeah. Thanks for coming. The steaks were great.”

  He nodded and led the dog across the short expanse of grass that joined the two backyards.

  Her legs trembled as she walked into the house.

  Thirteen

  The next morning, his emotions still in turmoil, Clint seesawed back and forth about going to church. Just as the service began, he slid into the back pew. He turned to murmur an apology for disturbing the person next to him and looked straight into the greenest eyes in the whole county.

  Who ever said God didn’t have a sense of humor?

  She smiled. A knot in his stomach loosened. For the next hour, he put Ryan’s death from his mind and concentrated on the worship.

  As they walked out into the unseasonably warm September day, she tucked her arm in the crook of his elbow. “Do you have somewhere you need to go right now?”

  “No.” He had planned to sit in his apartment and mope all afternoon, but that was nothing that couldn’t be canceled.
>
  “Let’s go home, get changed, and go out for a drive. We need to talk.”

  “Okay.” He kept his answer short so she wouldn’t hear the apprehension in his voice. He’d never heard of a conversation that began with “We need to talk” that ended well.

  Once home, he quickly let Rapscallion out and then changed into jeans and a T-shirt. He walked out to the swing to wait for her, a sudden idea niggling at his mind.

  ❧

  “Fishing?” Jessa laughed. “Sure, why not?”

  She had known this morning when she was sitting on the pew beside Clint that she had to be completely honest with him. She’d never been a game player, and she wasn’t about to start now.

  Out on the lake would be a fine place to tell him. At least that way if he got upset by her decision, he couldn’t run off before they finished talking.

  Thirty minutes later, they sat in Jeb’s small fishing boat in the middle of Lake Millicent.

  “Now what?”

  “Depends.” He raised an eyebrow. “On whether you want to fish first and talk later or talk first and fish later.”

  “We’d better fish first,” she said. “Then maybe we can talk during.”

  “Fine with me.” Clint handed her an artificial lure, and she slid the brightly colored bait onto the hook. “Too bad we didn’t have time to dig some worms.”

  “Yeah.” She shuddered. “Too bad.”

  She followed the careful instructions he gave her and raised the tip of her rod up in the air then slung it forward. The baited hook and sinker slammed into the side of the boat.

  “You forgot to take your thumb off the button as you cast. Here, let me show you.” He stood gingerly in the boat and leaned over her chair, putting both arms around her and placing his hand on hers.

  He smelled of soap, the kind that reminded her of a crisp breeze across the ocean. She shivered. He could surely hear her heartbeat. It sounded like a tribe of angry cannibals banging on the tom-tom drums.