by Heather Gray
Sam chuckled. “Isn’t it ordinarily the men who struggle with words? I hated writing papers because I could say in two paragraphs what the prof wanted me to take five pages to explain.”
“I could have condensed your two paragraphs down to two sentences without breaking a sweat.”
“Do you like the business stuff? How can you be a CEO but still have time to help here?”
“What? You don’t want me around?”
Laugh lines accented his eyes as he raised his hands in front of him. “I’m not running you off. I’m just curious.”
Skye picked at a flawlessly manicured nail. “It’s easy to run a company part-time when the company runs well without me and when I don’t have any interest in running it myself.”
“You don’t enjoy the work? Or is it this specific company you don’t want to run?”
Gideon ambled into the office then, but stood back as Skye answered the question.
“I don’t have any passion for it. I would have gotten an accounting degree if I’d been allowed. My grandfather insisted on an MBA, though. After college, he could have put me to work in the company’s accounting department. I would have loved it there where I was happily ignorant of what it took to run the place. My grandfather didn’t give me a choice, though. I don’t like being in charge of a company when I know every decision I make affects hundreds of employees and their families. It’s more pressure than I want in my life.”
“Then why don’t you sell?”
“I don’t know. I should. I just… Every offer I’ve gotten would end up in at least half the employees losing jobs. I can’t do that. Even if I hate what I do, which I don’t. I’m apathetic, I guess. But even if I hated it, these are good people. Their futures are in my hands, and I don’t want to make the wrong choice.”
“You’ve got yourself a conundrum.”
Gideon cleared his throat. “You ever think about turning it over to the employees?”
Skye frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
He gave his head a quick shake. “Some companies are employee-owned. The company shares are all owned by employees, and the employees are the stockholders who make all the decisions. I might be fuzzy on the structure, but it’s an employee-owned business, and all the profits are split between the employees.”
She drummed her nails on the desktop. “Why haven’t I heard of this before?”
Gideon gave a half shrug. “You just didn’t ask the right person…?”
Skye shut down the computer one-handed as she reached for her purse. “I’ll bake you a cake if this works out, Gideon.”
“Whoa!” Gideon backed away from the counter. “You’ve already warned all us about your cooking skills. No need to threaten me with cake.”
She pulled her phone from her purse and gave a mock salute with it in her hand. “How about this? If this doesn’t work out, I’ll bake you a cake…”
CHAPTER 24
August
Sam was a man of action. He had a straightforward approach to life. See a problem, fix the problem.
People were harder to fix, though. Military service had taught him that. Working at Samaritan’s Reach drove the point home further.
Even harder than people?
Politics.
Some problems just needed to be doused in gasoline and set ablaze.
Not that he was condoning — or suggesting — arson.
The thought had at least a little appeal, though.
“Boss, you wanted to see me?” Franco stood in the doorway.
Sam rose from his desk and picked up the cordless phone and his keys. “Come with me.”
Franco kept pace as they walked the perimeter of the property. “What’s up, Boss?”
“I wish you guys would stop calling me that.”
“Then stop acting like one.”
Sam shook his head. He’d almost said he couldn’t change how he acted. Wasn’t that exactly what he was asking them to do, though? And wasn’t that a part of the hope they all had in Christ? That He could make them new? That He could get inside and change them from the inside out?
Franco must have taken his silence as acquiescence. “You were born to be a boss, and you’re a good one, so we follow you.”
Sam stopped walking and looked over at Franco. “I didn’t mean to gripe. I get the name, and I’m honored by it. So tell me. How are your classes going?”
“All A’s except for that one B in algebra. I still don’t know what I’ll do with a degree in criminal justice, but…”
“I thought you wanted to work on becoming a parole officer.”
“Yeah, but I got to thinking. Who’d hire a former homeless dude to keep track of parolees?”
Sam chuckled. “A smart person, that’s who. You know what it’s like to be in a bad place. That gives you compassion. Unless it’s just a job. Then never mind. If it’s more than a job, though, if you actually want to have a positive influence on people’s lives, I think you picked the right field.”
Franco rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk, Boss. Always a pleasure.”
Sam gave the resident a light punch in the arm before pointing to some underbrush. “What do you see?”
Franco studied the shrubs. “We need rain, and someone’s been here. They’re all trampled.”
Sam nodded. “Pull together some men from the leadership program and start doing random night patrols.”
The big man beside him let out a whistle. “You think someone’s casing the joint? It ain’t like we got much.”
“I don’t care if they steal something. I care about providing a safe place for these men. For some of you, this is the first safe place you’ve laid down your head in a lot of years. I won’t give that up without a fight.”
Franco followed the trail of trampled underbrush. “They didn’t come from the street.”
“No.”
“Inside job?”
Sam chose his words with care. “Maybe. I’m not sure. Whoever was here came from the courtyard, but that’s all I know for sure. The real question is why. What were they doing?”
“Too bad we can’t use Alan yet. Between me, Gideon, and Alonzo, though, we should be able to coordinate night patrols.”
“I’m putting you in charge of it. I want a printed schedule, and I want a report each morning from whoever did the patrols.”
“Do you want one man per night or rotate in shifts so everyone gets at least some sleep?”
Sam clapped Franco on the shoulder. “It’s all you, man. Just get me the schedule before tonight so I won’t be surprised if I leave my room after lights-out and stumble across someone.”
Franco slogged off without a goodbye, but it was fine. Sam’s list of things to worry about was growing by the minute. Delegating something to his leadership team relieved some pressure, and it would be a good lesson for them.
“The accounting’s up-to-date, and now I’d like to learn more about the scope of your operation here.”
Sam, who was helping Harry unload his barber equipment, gave Skye a quick look. “Hold on.”
Once they got the wash sink and everything else into place, Gideon headed off to knock on each door to tell everyone the haircut van had arrived.
Skye’s phone chirped, and she took it out of her pocket.
Sam used her distraction to take in her appearance. She’d been coming regularly to the mission for over two months now, and he couldn’t imagine the place without her. One of these days, he was going to have a serious spiritual discussion with her. That was sort of his job, seeing to the spiritual, emotional, and physical wellbeing of his residents, staff, and volunteers. Not that he’d say that to Skye. She’d already put him in his place about his attempts to help her. He hadn’t stopped, though. Instead, he’d gotten subtler about it.
She stuffed her phone into her back pocket and caught his eye. “Ready?”
“Sure. Mind if we walk while we talk?”
“Um…okay. I was going to take no
tes, though.”
“Don’t worry about writing anything down. It’s not that complicated, but if you need me to repeat something later, I can.”
“All right then. Lead the way.”
Sam headed toward the corner of the motel where the picnic table resided. Might as well walk the perimeter while he talked to Skye. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything, but let’s start with where you find the men who come here.”
“I used to go out and visit all the homeless camps and tell them about Samaritan’s Reach, leave information behind, that sort of thing. Anyone who qualified and wanted to come back with me, I’d bring back in the van and process them in. Eventually word of mouth started working in our favor. Most of our current residents found us on their own or through someone they met in or around Rainbow Falls.”
“Do you ever go back to the homeless camps?”
Sam rounded the corner by the street and began crossing the front of the motel’s property. “Whenever I have time, and when it gets cold. As winter starts to set in, I’ll make two or three trips out to each camp. I tell people about us and put up signs. Stapled to a tree or whatever’s handy.”
Skye stalled him with a hand to his arm. “Slow down. My legs aren’t as long as yours.”
He was usually more aware than that. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to leave you behind.”
“So, after you process someone in? Then what?”
“One of the first things we do is make sure they’re registered with Veterans Affairs. There are a lot of services these men can gain access to through the VA that they haven’t taken advantage of because they’ve been transient or because they didn’t know. They don’t all qualify for everything. Some services will vary depending on how long a person served. Regardless, we work to get them covered by the programs they quality for.”
“Such as?”
“Everyone gets a physical and sees the eye doctor and dentist. Those are things we can take care of outpatient at the clinic in Peterman Falls. The VA also offers services to homeless vets if the men want to take advantage of those. That’s a little more complicated, though, and our guys don’t always go for it.”
“What’s next? After they’ve had their medical checkups?”
“Each man here is required to attend the daily Bible study and two exercise classes each week.”
“Yoga and… What was the other one?”
“Aikido. My version of it, anyway.”
“I haven’t seen any yoga poses in quite a while. Let alone martial arts. What happened?”
The men might not thank him for explaining. “We used to exercise in the courtyard during the summer months. When you started volunteering, though, the men balked at doing yoga in the courtyard where you could see them. We’re not an entirely graceful bunch. So we moved it indoors. We shuffled furniture in one of the empty rooms. It’s a little tight, but we manage.”
“And you meet at the picnic table for Bible study. What do you do when it gets cold? You only have so many empty rooms, and winter’s not too far off.”
“We use the Learning Center for Bible study. Since every man is required to attend, the room’s available, and the seating is more comfortable. We also have mandatory group counseling sessions, with one-on-one sessions offered as needed. The initial group sessions are mostly for us to figure out where each man is emotionally and psychologically so we can treat him accordingly and get him whatever help he needs. Some residents are suited to a PTSD group. Others aren’t. It varies. We try to assess each man and get him into the sort of counseling best suited to his situation.”
“Do you lead the group counseling?”
“I do the private sessions when needed. A couple of community volunteers come in and run the group sessions. I fill in if one of them can’t make it, but they’re an exceptional team. They rarely call out.”
“Volunteers? Do you let just anyone lead counseling?”
“Uh… No. That wouldn’t be advisable. Our volunteer counselors are all licensed professionals. They have different specialties. Our family counselor doesn’t lead the PTSD group, and our PTSD guy doesn’t lead our survivor’s guilt group.”
By this time, they’d circled back around to the picnic table, and Sam sat down on top of it. For a man who was used to asking the questions, being on the end of so many of them had him a little off-kilter. It was time to turn the tables. “You told me what first brought you to Rainbow Falls, but you never told me what pulled you away.”
Color drained from Skye’s face as she looked anywhere but at him. “I’d rather talk about Samaritan’s Reach.”
“I’m talked out. It’s your turn.”
“Fine.” Her lips thinned. “My grandparents offered to pay for college if I lived with them, so I went.”
“It must have been hard to leave your mom. Were you close?”
“In a way.”
The walls were coming up, but they weren’t all the way up yet. She could handle one more question. “How did your mom take it when you left?”
“I never saw her again. She OD’d a month later.”
CHAPTER 25
Skye slid into the booth. “How are you ladies doing?”
Ruby and Rose smiled in unison. “Couldn’t be better. You?”
Their ability to speak as one was uncanny. When Skye had first met them, she’d thought they were robots. That was the only way two people could be so in sync, after all. Never mind that they were distinctly different. One was outgoing, the other shy. One liked kids, the other didn’t. One was analytical, the other creative. They often joked that together they made one complete and well-rounded person.
Tawny approached the booth and gave Skye a gentle shove. “Make room. The birthday girl has arrived.”
Leave it to Tawny. Skye didn’t like people to notice her birthday. Tawny, on the other hand, wanted the whole town to cater to her every want and whim for the day.
Before long, Jette and Sunny joined them. Then Fern.
It wasn’t unusual for one or more of the Rainbow Girls to be caught up elsewhere on a Friday night. They’d tried getting together monthly, but too many of them had missed the meal on a regular basis, which prompted them to meet weekly so everyone could make it at least once a month.
They placed their orders, and all eyes turned to the birthday girl.
She gave them that frightening Cheshire grin of hers that said they were all in for trouble. “My birthday wish this year is for each of you to help Samaritan’s Reach.”
Skye’s breath caught. They’d talked about the shelter around Friday night dinner several times, but nobody had ever made any specific commitments. She’d always thought that if she could convince the girls to visit the place, they’d be as committed as she’d become. She didn’t have Tawny’s pushiness, though, to pull it off.
Tawny pointed to Sunny. “You run the largest second-hand store in Rainbow Falls.”
Sunny’s eyebrows lifted. “It’s the only second-hand store in town.”
Tawny shrugged. “You make a respectable living doing it, too. You can help. Provide vouchers for men to receive a free outfit for interviews or something like that. Or hire some of the guys from Samaritan’s Reach when you need extra muscle for one of those estate sales you’re always going to.”
“How many men are we talking about?” Skepticism laced Sunny’s voice.
When Tawny prodded her with a well-timed stare, Skye answered. “Usually ten to fifteen. Sometimes a little more, sometimes less. They can house up to twenty-two at a time, more if they put two to a room.”
Sunny nodded and pulled a business card from her purse. She slid it across the table to Skye. “Have your guy give me a call. If it’s a number like that, I think I can help. I can’t afford to give away my entire inventory, but I’m sure we can work something out that will benefit the men at the shelter and please the birthday girl.”
Skye took the card and tucked it into her purse. Sunny would benefit, too. She just di
dn’t realize it yet.
Next, Tawny pointed to Ruby and Rose. “You two run the best employment agency in town. Think you might be able to place some vets in decent jobs?”
The twins regarded each other for an entire millisecond before Ruby answered. “I handle the temp agency. Rose takes care of long-term placements. Between the two of us, we can help place some of the men.” She shifted her attention to Skye. “They have to look the part, though. Some of the jobs are manual labor. Some are office. We do random drug testing, too. The men need to be…”
Skye understood what Ruby didn’t want to say. “Clean inside and out, right?”
Ruby gave a half-shrug. “Yeah, basically. They also can’t have… Um… I can’t send out anyone if there’s a chance they’ll go off on one of our clients.”
Rose slid two business cards across the table to Skye. “Have him call us. We’d need a face-to-face with him to make sure we understand each other. Will he get angry if we’re not politically correct?”
Tawny snorted. “Sweetheart, he’s the furthest thing from a metrosexual you’ll find.”
Skye reached for the cards. “The first day I officially volunteered there, he told me he wanted me to be honest with him. He didn’t have to like what I said as long as he could trust it. I don’t think PC’s a big deal to him.”
The twins exchanged another glance before Ruby spoke for them. “We might only be able to offer a small help. We don’t know how receptive our clients will be. We’ll do what we can, though.”
Tawny crossed her arms and stared at Fern. “You and your daddy run a fine garage.”
“I thought Forrest worked at the garage.” Had Skye missed something? Forrest, Fern’s older brother, had graduated high school with Skye. He’d had grease under his nails the entire time she’d known him.
Fern crossed her arms and glared daggers at Tawny. “That’s not funny.”
Skye was obviously missing the subtext here. “Somebody needs to clue me in.”
Jette took pity on her. “Fern’s daddy doesn’t think girls should work on cars. He lets Fern run the office. He won’t let her in the back, which is where she’d rather be.”