by Nancy Mehl
Sam got out of his truck and came over to my car. He took Snickle out of the backseat and grabbed my suitcase while I got the extra tote bag full of Snickle’s “supplies.” I giggled when I realized that his “box” would most probably end up on the back porch. Maybe the next time Sweetie got upset, her bout of bad temper would be cut even shorter. Even though I cleaned his box out every day, a litter box doesn’t always remind one of springtime flowers.
As we walked through the snow up to the front porch, Sweetie waited to greet us. She grabbed me before I crossed over the threshold.
“I knowed you two would get everything sorted out,” she whispered in my ear.
I gave her a quick hug. “Thanks for talking to me about his situation,” I said softly. “It really helped.”
She glanced toward Sam, who was already to the kitchen door. “Let’s keep our little discussion between us, okay? I’m not sure how he’d take my comin’ to you like that.”
I didn’t answer her, but I felt uncomfortable keeping secrets from Sam. At some point, I’d have to find a way to tell him about Sweetie’s visit. But for now, it was enough for us to be back together. That little bit of information could wait for a while.
As Sweetie closed the door behind us and I followed Sam to the kitchen, I wondered if Sweetie’s ecstasy at finding out Sam and I were back on track had caused her some kind of temporary blindness. She hadn’t said a thing about Snickle. When we all reached the kitchen, though, her vision cleared.
“You brought that cat over here?” she shrieked. “Why can’t that thing stay in Gracie’s house? Put out some food and water. He’ll be fine.”
Sam leaned up against the table, Snickle’s carrier at his feet. “And if the electricity goes out? Cats may be adaptive, but they’re not part of the polar bear family. Wouldn’t you feel bad if we’d left him there and Gracie went home to find a frozen Snickle?”
He said it tongue in cheek, but Sweetie didn’t find it very funny. “Sounds like some kinda dessert,” she mumbled. “Frozen Snickle.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
Sam shot his aunt an amused look. “Why don’t you go unpack?” he said to me. “I want to check the weather report and see if there’s an update.”
“Does it matter which bedroom I take?” I directed my question to Sweetie, who grinned like the cat who ate the canary, the Snickle controversy seemingly behind her.
“Well, let’s see. I could set up a cot in the basement. ‘Course it gets a little cold down there.” She rubbed her chin like she was thinking. “I don’t know.”
“You’re very funny,” I said, smiling at her antics. “Think I’ll take the purple room.” Sweetie knew how much I loved it. I grabbed my suitcase and hurried up the stairs to the most gorgeous room I’d ever slept in. Purple violets on the wallpaper accented a beautiful lavender and gold oriental rug. Intricately carved oak furniture with a Victorian design completed the room perfectly. It was cozy, spacious, and absolutely stunning.
When I swung the door open, I found a fire burning in the fireplace and an extra quilt lying at the foot of the four-poster bed. I pulled it out and ran my hand over it. Sweetie’s Christmas quilt. She’d shown it to me once when I was here for dinner. Her mother had made it for her when Sweetie was a young girl. Unfortunately, Sweetie’s mother died before she could give it to her. In fact, the Christmas after her mother’s death, Sweetie’s father had given her the quilt. It was almost as if her mother had reached down from heaven and given her daughter a special Christmas gift. The beautiful reds and greens were so bright, the quilt looked like it had been made yesterday. In the middle was a Christmas wreath. It was the most beautiful quilt I’d ever seen.
I folded it back up. Putting the quilt on the bed was Sweetie’s way of telling me she’d planned for me to stay in this room all along. I took my clothes out of the suitcase and placed them in the drawers of the huge dresser that sat against one wall. Then I unpacked my toiletries in the bathroom down the hall. I spent a few minutes enjoying the room before I headed back downstairs.
I could hear the TV in the den, so I knew Sam was watching the weather. I started to join him, but the cold outside seemed to have seeped into my bones. A hot cup of raspberry tea called my name. I’d just reached the door of the kitchen when I saw Sweetie bent over, talking to herself. I started to say something when I realized she wasn’t alone. At her feet lay the much-hated Snicklefritz. He was on his back, purring to beat the band while Sweetie stroked his stomach and talked baby talk to him. I almost laughed out loud, but I held it in. No sense in embarrassing Sweetie and setting this love fest back several months.
I crept down the hall and then turned back toward the kitchen, this time stepping loudly and even emitting a couple of coughs. By the time I reached the doorway, Sweetie stood near the stove. Snickle sat nearby, staring at her with an expression that clearly demonstrated his displeasure at being suddenly deserted.
“Hope Snickle isn’t bothering you,” I said. “I guess Sam let him out of his carrier.”
Sweetie shrugged. “Is that mangy cat in here? Had no idea it was already loose.” She waved a large spoon at me. “You’d best keep that big rat catcher outta my hair. That’s all I gotta say.” With that she went back to stirring whatever she had on the stove.
“Okay, I’ll try. Any chance for a cup of tea?”
“Sure. You want raspberry?”
“Sounds wonderful. I’m going to check on Sam, and I’ll be back in a few minutes. Do you want me to take Snickle with me?”
“Nah, that’s okay. Silly cat would probably just run back in here. He loves to irritate me.”
“Okay. Thanks, Sweetie. I’m really sorry to cause so much trouble.”
She turned to look at me, and her expression softened. “Shoot, Gracie. You ain’t no trouble a’tall. I’m glad you’re here.” She gave Snickle a dirty look. “Me and this cat will find a way to get used to each other. Some way. Don’t you worry none about it.”
I gave her a smile and went to find Sam. Sure enough, he had parked himself in front of the TV in the home’s large study. Wooden bookshelves lined the walls, and a beautifully carved fireplace mantel held the only pictures I’d ever seen from Sam’s childhood. Several of Hannah’s paintings hung on the walls. Although this room was decorated in a heavier style than the other rooms in the house, it was still one of my favorites. Sam sat behind a huge mahogany desk, watching a flat-screen TV mounted on a nearby wall. I barely got out “What’s going on?” before he shushed me.
The forecaster was pointing right at Kansas. “This system is likely to dump another ten to twelve inches on an area already reeling from a recent storm. And it could get even worse, folks. Should the system stall over northeast Kansas, some areas could see record amounts of snowfall. Unfortunately, it isn’t just the amount of snow that’s a concern with this storm. It’s the strong winds and the possible subzero temperatures. Blizzard conditions could exist over a large part of the state. To call this storm dangerous is an understatement.”
Sam picked up the remote control and turned the sound down. “Good thing you’re here. This is starting to look pretty bad.” His taut expression told me he was worried.
“Sam, that forecaster said something about temperatures below zero. Could that affect your trees?”
“When they’re dormant, they can stand pretty cold temps, but if we hit several days below zero, we could be in trouble.”
“Isn’t there anything you can do?”
He nodded slowly. “We can put out smudge pots and light our burn barrels, but I don’t know if it will do any good. I can only raise the ground temperature a few degrees. Hopefully it will be enough to protect the roots of the trees.”
“And if you can’t get it warm enough?” I was suddenly hit with a wave of apprehension. The tone in his voice was one I hadn’t heard before.
“It means we lose our trees, and we’ll have no crop next year.”
The idea of someth
ing like that happening had never occurred to me. “Well, I’m going to pray that God will protect your trees. Psalm 91 says, ‘He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.’ “ I smiled at Sam. “I believe that.”
He stared down at the floor for a moment before raising his head to return my smile. “Guess I need to put my faith to work, huh? I have to admit that owning a farm can make a person start thinking everything depends on however the weather decides to turn. Thanks for reminding me who is really in charge.”
“You’re welcome.” The grim weather forecast made me think of Ida, all alone in her old house. “Sam, what about Ida? We should have checked on her before we came here.”
He clicked the TV off. “You’re right. I didn’t realize it was going to be quite this bad. I’m going to head over there now before the storm hits.”
“I’ll go with you.”
He shook his head. “I’d rather you stay here. If she decides she’d like to come with me, I’ll need room in the front seat for her and her things.”
“But you could put her stuff in the truck bed.”
“Can’t you feel that wind? It’s already blowing pretty good out there. I don’t want to take the time to tie anything down, and I doubt lightweight items would stay in the truck very long.”
Sure enough, a blast of air shook the house. The storm was moving in quickly. “All right. But don’t take too long. I swear, if you’re not back in thirty minutes, I’m coming after you.”
Sam rose from his chair. “That little Slug Bug of yours wouldn’t last a minute in a big wind. You’d be blown away just like Dorothy and her house.” He pointed his finger at me. “You stay put. And I mean it.”
I followed him to the coat closet in the hall. He quickly kissed me and left.
“Where in blazes is that boy goin’?” Sweetie asked as she came out of the kitchen. “Don’t he know how bad it’s fixin’ to get out there?”
I explained our concerns about Ida.
“Oh my. I shoulda thought about her myself, but I thought Sam just stopped by there yesterday.”
“Well, he did, but now it looks like the storm may be worse than we originally thought. He’s going to try to bring her here.”
She nodded. “That’s a good idea. This house is built to last. Not so sure about her little place, although Sam has done a good job of keepin’ things tight and weatherproof.” She wiped her hands on the apron she wore on top of her overalls. “Your tea is ready. Why don’t you come in and keep me company? I’m makin’ a roasted chicken for dinner.”
I’d just sat down at the kitchen table with my cup of tea when the phone rang. Sweetie was cutting potatoes, so I grabbed it for her.
Before I could say hello, a frantic male voice blasted through the receiver. “Sweetie? Sweetie, is that you?”
“No, this is Gracie. Sweetie’s busy. What—”
“Gracie. Gracie, this is John Keystone. I need your help.”
“John, I thought your phone might be out.”
“It was. It’s only been up a few minutes, and I’m not sure how long the connection will hold. Gracie, I need to talk to Sam. Right now.”
“John, he’s gone to check on Ida. He’s not here. What’s wrong?”
There were several seconds of silence on his end of the phone. I could hear his heavy breathing. Finally, when he spoke, his voice was shaky with emotion. “Look, Gracie, I know about what happened between Gabe and Sarah.”
“We tried to call you right away, John, but—”
“That’s not important now,” he said, cutting me off. “Gabe is at my place. Sarah’s missing.”
I felt my body turn cold. “What do you mean, missing?”
“She and Gabe had an argument, and Sarah took off in the buggy. Gabe thought she might have come here and had a neighbor drive him over. Gracie, we need help looking for Sarah. Sam was the first person I called.”
“Oh, John. The storm’s moving in really fast. If Sarah is caught in it…”
“I know,” he said, his voice tinged with desperation. “That’s why we don’t have a moment to lose.”
I thought for a moment. “Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”
“No. Gabe thinks she could be on her way to your place or to town. I’m hopeful we’ll find her on the road. But if not…”
“I’ll call Sam and tell him to hurry home. He should be back by the time you get here.”
“Could you also call some other people and ask for help? The more folks looking for her the better.”
“Of course. I’ll start calling as soon as we hang up.”
“Okay, Gracie. Thanks, and—”
As a major gust of wind hit the house, I lost the phone connection. I called John’s name several times, but the line was dead. I clicked the receiver, hoping the problem was on John’s end. No such luck. I put the receiver down and explained the situation to Sweetie.
“Oh my lands,” she said. “That little girl don’t stand a chance in one of them rickety buggies. Not in this wind. And when the snow starts…” As if on cue, the scene outside the kitchen windows turned white. The snow was so thick and the wind so strong that it created an instant whiteout.
I began to feel panic rise inside me. “Sweetie, what are we going to do? I can’t contact anyone else for help, and I can’t call Sam.”
She popped her chicken in the oven, took off her old apron, and came over to the table. “Well, I may not be the spiritual one in this family, but I believe we should pray, don’t you?”
“I think that’s a great idea.” Sweetie being the one to initiate prayer was something new, but I was grateful. We certainly needed God’s protection working for Sarah. We joined hands and thanked Him that His angels had charge over her. We also asked that she would be found quickly. When we finished, I felt a calm assurance drift over me.
After our prayer, I got up and went to the front door. At this point, I had two choices. Either I could wait for Sam to come back, or I could get in my car and go after him. But when I opened the door and looked outside, I knew my car didn’t stand a chance. This wasn’t a snowstorm; this was a bona fide blizzard. I watched the snow shriek and swoop past the house, carried by wild winds. I couldn’t even see the road. Visibility was almost nothing. I’d put my trust in God to deliver Sarah, but thinking about her out there, alone in this storm, brought tears to my eyes.
I’d just decided to go back into the kitchen when I heard the sound of a motor. Through the blanket of blowing snow, Sam’s truck became visible. He pulled up as close as he could to the house. His door opened and he got out, fighting against the wind, almost falling down twice, until he reached the porch. It took the both of us to get the outer door open and then hold it so the wind wouldn’t break it off its hinges.
“Where’s Ida?” I asked as soon as he got inside and closed the door behind us.
“Snug as a bug in a rug,” he said. “She doesn’t want to leave.
She’s nice and warm, has plenty of food, and wants to be near Zebediah.”
“What about Zeb? Will he be all right?”
Sam nodded and started to take off his coat. “I closed him inside the stable and started a small fire in the stove. As soon as things die down some, I’ll go back and check on both of them again.”
I grabbed him before he could completely remove his coat. “Better leave it on. Something awful has happened.” I quickly filled him in on John’s frantic call. As I talked, Sam’s expression grew more ominous.
“It’s awful out there, Grace. Sarah is in real danger. We need more people than just Gabe, John, and me out there searching for her. Have you checked the phone again? Maybe it’s working.”
Sweetie walked out into the hallway. “It’s still deader than a doornail, son. Sorry.”
Sam stared at both of us for a minute. I could almost hear the gears grinding in his head. “You said John and Gabe are on their way over here?”
&n
bsp; “Yes. Knowing Sarah is in danger seemed to pull them together. John sounded so frightened. And I’m sure Gabe is beside himself.”
Sam sighed deeply and shook his head. “All I can do is wait for them and hope they find her on the road coming here. If they do…”
The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway stopped Sam from finishing his thought. He flung the door open. John’s SUV had pulled up next to Sam’s truck. The driver’s side door opened and John got out. He shut the door behind him with great difficulty and made his way to the front porch. Sam held the door open and struggled to close it once John was inside.
“Did you get anyone else to help us?” were the first words out of his mouth.
“The phone lines are down,” Sam said. “There’s just me. I take it you didn’t find her on your way over here.”
John’s look of panic made my insides churn. “No. No sign of her.” He stared wide-eyed at Sam. “What are we going to do?”
Sam buttoned up his coat and hurried to the closet to find his wool hat. He pulled it down over his ears. “We’re going to go look for her. Let’s take your car. It’s much sturdier than my truck. We’ll figure out which way to go when we get in the car.”
I pushed my way past him and opened the closet door. “I’m coming with you.”
“No,” Sam said forcefully. “I want you to stay here. The phone might come back on. You can start calling for help.”
I finished pulling on my coat and put the hood up. “Sweetie knows how to use the phone. You have no idea what you’re going to find out there or how much help you’ll need. I’m strong.”