Susanna's Dream: The Lost Sisters of Pleasant Valley, Book Two

by Marta Perry

  “Look, there. Someone’s signaling us.” Seth moved the beam, and it picked up a porch, someone on it blinking a feeble flashlight.

  “Okay, got it.” She turned toward the porch, trying to adjust for the current and watch for floating tree limbs. A huge one went past, big enough to capsize their small boat if it hit them dead on.

  Chloe gritted her teeth. This was harder than she’d dreamed. What had she been thinking, volunteering for this job? She should have left it to someone else. But there hadn’t been anyone else.

  Just hold it steady. Granddad’s voice seemed to echo in her heart, warm with his love. You can do it. I know you can.

  He’d always believed in her, and somehow that love and belief still strengthened her. Her face was already wet with rain—no one would notice a few tears mixed in.

  She guided the boat toward the porch, slowing as she reached it. Seth leaned out, grabbing the porch post and looping a line around it.

  “I’ll climb out and help them in,” he said. “Try to keep it as steady as you can.”

  She nodded, getting her first look at the people on the porch—a woman in her thirties, probably, an elderly woman wrapped in a blanket and leaning on a cane, and two young children. Her heart sank. How on earth was Seth going to get them safely into the boat?

  He was already out, stepping easily onto the partly submerged porch step. She grabbed a line secured to the stern and tossed it to him. “Loop it around the post and hand me the end. I’ll pull the boat in closer.”

  He nodded, flipping the rope around and using it to pull the rear of the boat closer before handing it back to her. He turned to the kids, who were pressing forward even as their mother tried to hold them back. “You folks need a ride?”

  “We should have left earlier.” The woman’s voice verged on tears. “I didn’t think it was going to get so bad.”

  The woman had that in common with plenty of other people, including Chloe. Maybe that was the natural reaction to being plunged into a catastrophe.

  “It’s okay. You’re not the only ones. The important thing now is to get you out.” Seth’s voice was calm and soothing. “I’m going to try lifting the kids in first. Then maybe you can help me with . . .” He hesitated, nodding at the older woman, who seemed to shrink inside her blanket.

  “My mother,” the woman supplied. She seemed to take a breath, pushing wet hair back from her face. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  Seth seemed to assess the two children quickly, and then he picked up the older one, a boy of about eight. “I’m going to lift you in, and then you can steady your sister while I put her in, okay?”

  The boy nodded, his eyes wide in a white face. “I can do it. I’m not scared.”

  “Good man,” Seth said.

  In a single fluid movement he swung the boy across the gap and into the boat. Chloe wanted to reach out to help, but with one hand controlling the boat and the other grasping the rope, there was nothing she could do except pray.

  The boy was as good as his word. He sat down quickly, leaving room next to him for his sister, and then he nodded to Seth.

  The little girl showed a tendency to cling to her mother. Seth scooped her up and moved her to the boat before she could form the protest Chloe could see in her little face.

  “It’s okay,” she said, hoping to comfort the child as the boy pushed her onto the seat. “You listen to your brother, and your mom and grandma will be with you in a second.” She hoped. Prayed. The rope bit into her hand, and she tried to ignore the pain.

  Seth consulted with the woman. “I’m thinking with one of us on either side, we can lift her in. Just be careful on the step—the current is wicked.”

  She nodded, but the older woman drew back. “I can’t.” Her voice rose to a wail. “I can’t. I’ll just stay here.”

  “You can’t stay.” Seth’s voice was calm even as Chloe longed to shout at the woman. “The house might go, and then what would you do? Come, now. Your grandkids did it. You can, too.” He was maneuvering her forward as he spoke, to the edge of the porch.

  Chloe held her breath. If the woman struggled, the three of them could end up in the water. How could she save them? In this current—

  Before panic could take hold, Seth nodded to the younger woman. Together they lifted, and in an instant the older woman had collapsed into the boat and was gathering her grandchildren into her arms.

  Thank you, Chloe murmured. Thank you.

  Seth helped the woman in, untied the line, and stepped into the boat. Chloe let go of the rope she held and turned the boat upstream.

  “Our neighbors,” the woman said. “In the next house. They didn’t get out yet, either.”

  Chloe exchanged looks with Seth. She didn’t want to leave anyone behind, but it was impossible. They’d never make it if they loaded the boat any heavier.

  “We’ll come back for them,” Seth said quickly. “I promise we will.”

  Would they be able to keep that promise? Chloe concentrated on the next step. Get this load to safety. That was all she could do now, and it was taking all her strength and skill to maneuver the vessel against the current. Please. She realized she was praying again. Please.

  Seth knelt in the prow, sweeping the water ahead with the beam of light, ready to warn her of any obstacles. Slowly, fighting against the current and the heavy load, the boat began to make headway. At last she felt the keel brush bottom, and volunteers rushed into the water to carry their passengers to safety.

  “Thank you.” Crying, the woman pressed Chloe’s hand. “Thank you.”

  “It’s okay. Take care.”

  The grandmother was already being looked at by paramedics, while volunteers wrapped blankets around the children. Chloe recognized Nate’s sister among them, handing out blankets with a cheerful smile.

  “Okay?” Seth raised an eyebrow at Chloe.

  “Okay.” She nodded toward the volunteers. “We’re seeing the best of people, aren’t we? Strangers helping each other like family.”

  “I suspect we really are all family in a situation like this one.” He reached out to clasp her wet hand with his.

  Warmth flowed through Chloe, erasing her fatigue and fear. She looked at Seth’s face and it seemed to come into sharp focus, as familiar as if she knew every inch of it intimately. Her breath caught.

  It was all very well to tell herself that she shouldn’t get involved with this man. But it was already too late. She cared for him, maybe even loved him. And what was she going to do about it?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Nate

  stood at the storeroom door, water dripping from his slicker, as the last of the food for the emergency shelter was loaded into the truck. Fatigue dragged at him when he stood still, so he’d best get moving again. The next few days would demand all his strength.

  As he turned to leave, he heard someone calling his name and saw Susanna hurrying toward him. Her limp was more pronounced than ever, and his heart twisted.

  “You should be taking a break, Susanna.” He suspected she wouldn’t want to hear that, especially from him.

  “Later,” she said, dismissing the idea with a quick gesture. “Do you know where Chloe is? I can’t find her.”

  “I think she went with Seth to help down at the creek.” He tried not to think about how bad it might be down there.

  “I must go and find her. I don’t want her doing anything foolish because of me.” Her blue eyes were dark with worry, and she reached for the door handle.

  Nate planted his hand on the door to keep her from opening it. “Chloe is well able to take care of herself, it seems to me.” He didn’t mean that to sound like an insult, but the flare of anger in Susanna’s eyes told him she took it that way.

  “Chloe is my little sister,” she said.

  He stared at her. Did she realize how much affection was r
evealed by those simple words?

  “I know.” He forced himself to patience. Nothing would be served by letting Susanna rush off into the dark after Chloe. “Chloe is doing what she must. We all have to do so tonight, ain’t so?”

  The truth in what he said seemed to get through to her. She nodded. “At least Seth is with her. Chloe listens to him, I think.” Seeming to shake away her worry, she focused on him. “I thought you had gone to help people get out of those houses down by the river.”

  “I did, but there’s a need for food over at the shelter they’re setting up. They don’t know how many people to expect, but they’ll have to be fed. I said I’ll take what I can over from the store. We have the truck loaded, and I must go.”

  “I’ll come, too,” Susanna said quickly. “I can help with the cooking, at least.”

  “You don’t need to.” The strength of his desire to protect her startled him. Taking care of Susanna was what Mamm would expect, wasn’t it? “You’ve worked so hard already.”

  “There’s nothing more I can do here,” she said. “I want to be useful.”

  “Susanna . . .” He tried to find the words that would dissuade her.

  “We all have to do what we must tonight.” She repeated his words back to him with a hint of a smile.

  “Ja, all right, I know when I’m beaten.” He grabbed a slicker and held it for her to slip on.

  The slicker was too big for her, and he fitted it over her shoulders as best he could, drawing the collar close around her. She reached up to fasten it, and their hands became entangled.

  Susanna looked up at him, her eyes wide and startled. His breath seemed to be stuck in his throat, and he didn’t want to let go of her hands. If only—

  Nate stepped back so quickly he bumped into the door frame. “That will keep you dry.”

  He plunged out into the rain, welcoming the cold on his face. What had he been thinking? He didn’t have feelings for Susanna. He didn’t intend to have feelings for anyone. How could longing ambush him that way?

  The driver was already behind the wheel of the truck, ready to go. Nate pulled open the door on the passenger side and helped Susanna in, making an effort to touch nothing but the smooth wet fabric of the slicker.

  It didn’t help. He was still far too aware of her as he crowded into the seat next to her.

  He cleared his throat. “Sorry it’s so tight. It’s only a couple of blocks.”

  The emergency shelter had been set up in the old consistory building on the square. A large, square old place, it served the community in a variety of ways as it housed the Saturday market, the Christmas festival, and various concerts and events throughout the year. More important right now, it provided the storage necessary for cots and other emergency supplies. The question in his mind was whether anyone had planned for a flood as bad as this one promised to be.

  “How was it down by the river?” Susanna braced herself with a hand against the dashboard to keep from swaying against him as they rounded a corner.

  “Water’s over the park already.” The driver seemed to think the question was directed at him. “I doubt much will be left.”

  “Surely the pavilions will be all right.” She looked questioningly at Nate. The park had been built by the efforts of the community, and it was dear to the hearts of most folks in town.

  “They’ll be safe, I think,” he said, hoping he was right. “I’m afraid the playground won’t make it, though.” Along with many of his neighbors, he’d helped to build the playground. He didn’t want to see it float away, but better the playground than someone’s home.

  They’d reached the building already and the driver pulled the truck up by the side door that led to the kitchen. “Komm.” Nate slid out and helped Susanna down. “I’ll see you settled with a job if you’re sure—”

  “I’m sure,” she said.

  Inside, the large kitchen was warm and dry. Urns of coffee lined a counter, and a couple of women were putting out boxes of donuts. Most likely the local donut shop had donated its stock before closing. Through a pass-through in the kitchen wall he could see people setting up cots.

  “Over here.” He touched Susanna’s elbow and led her to the brisk, middle-aged woman who was obviously directing activities.

  “Julia?”

  She turned at the sound of his voice, her worried face relaxing in a smile. “I heard you were coming with supplies. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “It’s nothing,” he replied. “Here is Susanna Bitler, ready to help in the kitchen. Susanna, this is Mrs. Taylor, from the Red Cross.”

  “Julia, please.” She shook Susanna’s hand. “I’m always glad to have a volunteer who knows her way around a kitchen.”

  Susanna nodded, returning the woman’s smile with more poise than he’d have expected. Still, running the shop would have made her more comfortable with outsiders than many Amish women might be.

  With Susanna safely in Julia’s hands, Nate turned his attention to getting the truck unloaded. A couple of older Englisch men who’d been setting up cots in the large room on the other side of the kitchen pass-through came to help, and soon they had a line of people passing boxes and bags from the truck to the kitchen. They worked in silence, for the most part, without the friendly banter that normally accompanied this kind of chore. He suspected everyone had the same thought: How bad was it going to get?

  When the truck had been unloaded and all the supplies stacked on a counter or stored in the pantry, Nate looked around for Susanna. He found her at the restaurant-sized stove, stirring something in a large kettle. She looked perfectly composed, her face focused on the task at hand despite the fact that she must be worried sick over what she stood to lose. He admired her fortitude.

  It was only polite to let her know he was leaving, right? He crossed to her.

  “Making soup?”

  She glanced up, nodding. “Julia says people will want something hot. I’m wonderful glad the stove is gas. I wouldn’t know what to do with electric.”

  “It’ll stay on when the power goes off, too. I should start rounding up some lamps and lanterns. You’ll need those before the night is over, I’m afraid.”

  Susanna didn’t look unduly upset at the thought of the power going off, Nate thought. She might not realize how helpless many Englisch were when they couldn’t flip a switch for light and heat.

  Julia’s voice sounded over the hum of conversation in the kitchen. “The first evacuees are coming in. Get ready, everyone.”

  “Poor things,” Susanna murmured.

  Nate followed the direction of her gaze. Through the pass-through, he could see the first bedraggled group arriving. They looked . . . shocked, he realized. As if they couldn’t quite believe this was happening to them.

  “We’ll have to pray their homes are still there when this is over,” Nate said, reminding himself too late that the first-floor apartment Susanna had shared with her mother was in the danger zone. But Susanna hadn’t even mentioned that—all her concern had been for the shop.

  “Ja,” she said softly. “I know the contents of a house are just things, but if it’s someone’s home, those things are precious.”

  “I guess I’m not as attached to my home as a woman might be, but I think I understand. Maybe if Mary Ann had lived—” He stopped, not liking where that sentence was going.

  “I’m sorry.” Susanna’s eyes were filled with pain at the thought of his loss. “You must still grieve for what might have been.”

  The empathy in her voice shamed him, reminding him of her own loss. He was swept with impatience for the pretense he’d lived with for so long.

  “Even if she’d lived, Mary Ann wouldn’t have turned our house into a home.”

  Susanna’s eyes widened in shock, but it was no more than he felt himself. Why had he blurted that out to Susanna, of all people?
<
br />   He froze, irresolute. Then he shook his head sharply.

  “Forget what I said,” he ordered, and left the kitchen before he could make things any worse.

  * * *

  With

  the dawn came a slacking off of the rain. Seth leaned against a truck, wondering if the other workers were as exhausted as he was. Probably, but they were making an effort not to show it. This corner had been an impromptu landing spot last night, and the water still lapped at the street, but more quietly now.

  Two workers were putting up barricades where Main Street began its slope down toward the creek. The last of the ambulances had gone off an hour ago, probably called to some other area. A few trucks remained, along with the makeshift tent that sheltered the work area where coffee and blankets were dispensed.

  Chloe was smiling as she stood exchanging a few words with Nate’s sister. Donna was packing up blankets and coffee thermos jugs, and Chloe began helping her.

  But Chloe’s movements were slow, and she rubbed her shoulder as if it ached. One way or another, he had to convince her to get some rest.

  He walked over to where the women were working, his sneakers squelching with every step. He’d given up on trying to stay dry hours earlier. It just wasn’t possible.

  “Good to see the sun come up,” he said, nodding to Donna.

  “Ja, for sure.” Her freckled face was drawn with fatigue, but she had a ready smile.

  “At least now we’ll be able to see what we’re doing.” Chloe’s pallor tugged at his heart. “When was it that the power went out; did anyone notice?”

  “Around three, I think.” He’d glanced at his watch at some point, surprised to find it was still working. As far as he could tell, the whole town was out, making the misery even more acute for people already driven from their homes.

  “You got everyone out,” Donna said, loading a box of blankets into the back of a pickup. “That’s the important thing.”