by Heather Gray
Ouch. Skye knew a thing or two about being bossed around by a domineering man. “You don’t have to…”
Fern waved her remark away. “We don’t need more mechanics. Our roster’s full.”
Tawny leaned on the table. “Yeah, but they’re driving around a fifteen-passenger van that looks like it might have been built before Noah’s flood. Besides, you guys know better than anyone in town when someone is thinking of selling a vehicle. Help him keep the one he has running and see if you can hook him up with something a little more road-worthy while you’re at it.”
Fern’s arms were still crossed, but at least her eyes weren’t sparking fire anymore. “Fine. I’ll talk to Forrest and Dad.” She looked to Skye. “I don’t have a card on me, but I’ll call Samaritan’s Reach if I can make something happen.”
Skye nodded her appreciation. “Have you ever thought of opening your own garage?”
Jaws dropped all around the table. All except Fern’s. “Yeah, but I’d have to be prepared to starve since this town would never accept a female mechanic.”
“We would.” Rose and Ruby answered in unison.
Fern rolled her eyes. “Aside from the people at this table, nobody in Rainbow Falls would bring their car to me. I’d have to be willing to go into competition with Dad and Forrest, too, and I don’t know…”
Skye took a breath, ready to argue the point.
Tawny stepped on her toe, though, and cut her words short. “That’s a problem for another day. Which brings me to…” She stared at Jette.
Jette raised a black eyebrow. “You’re not going to intimidate me, so just spit out whatever you plan to say.”
Tawny shrugged. “Had to try. Honestly, I don’t know if they have much use for an attorney.”
Skye reached toward Jette. “They do.”
Jette drained the last of the water from her glass and nodded to Skye. “Give me the short version.”
“They’ve been here over two years. The City Council approved permits so they could launch, but then they started passing rulings to regulate Samaritan’s Reach. A review of his business license is scheduled for the end of this year. If he can’t meet all their terms — which is virtually impossible — they’re likely going to force him to close.”
“What are the regulations?”
“I don’t know all of them, but he’s lost half his donors as a result. Everyone assumes he’s going to fail, so they’re jumping ship left and right. But the shelter does commendable work, and the men Sam is helping… He’s changing lives.”
“Does he have an attorney?”
Skye nodded. “Yeah, but I think he’s a divorce attorney or something. He used to serve in the Marines with Sam, and he volunteers his time. He’s not equipped to help with what’s going on.”
Jette held her glass up and made eye contact with the waitress as the woman walked by. Then she gave her attention back to Skye. “Let me ponder. I’ll let you know if I can do anything.”
A fire burned in Skye’s chest, and it grew brighter by the second. All the other things would be helpful, but none of them would mean a thing if Samaritan’s Reach had to close down. If she believed in God, she’d be praying, begging Him to save the shelter. She was too many years past that schoolgirl fantasy, though. Jette, though… If Jette got involved, the shelter might have a chance.
Tawny nudged Skye’s foot under the table. “Anything else you can think of?”
“What? You’re not going to rope me into doing something? Oh wait. You already did. You volunteered me to give them three days out of my week.”
Her friend winked. “And you don’t regret it, do you?”
Skye couldn’t argue. “No comment.”
“So? Anything else you can think of that they need?”
“Shoes.”
“Shoes?” Tawny echoed her words.
She nodded. “I noticed it a while back, but I wasn’t sure what to do about it. They all have bright, new socks, but their shoes are a mess. I don’t know sizes, either. Are people picky about shoes? Can I buy inexpensive ones, or should I get name brand? I’ve never bought shoes for a man before.”
Tawny choked. “It can’t be nearly as confusing as underwear.”
Heat raced up Skye’s neck and into her cheeks. “You had to go there, didn’t you?”
“Get good shoes.” This comment came from Fern.
Skye looked across the table at her. “You think?”
Fern nodded. “Some of these men might be around for months. Some might leave next week. Get something sturdy for them so those men who take off out of there will have shoes that’ll last. Don’t go cheap and buy them something that’s going to fall apart the second they hit the county line.”
Jette pointed her fork at Fern. “She has a point, but you also don’t want the shoes to be so fancy that someone will be willing to kill a man to steal them.”
Skye’s stomach flopped. “Right. Sturdy, but not…”
“Kill-worthy?” Tawny’s attempt at levity helped.
“I don’t suppose anyone wants to go shopping with me? I need shoes for the shelter and curtains for my home."
Tawny rolled her eyes. “You still haven’t gotten your living room curtains? You’re a disaster, you know that, don’t you?”
Yeah, she knew. It wasn’t such a big deal, either. Her friends worried she would leave again if she didn’t set down roots. Their concern was part of what gave her roots, but she didn’t know how to explain that. Not having to do all those boring things that were supposed to make her a functional and contributing member of society gave her a freedom she savored, too. Besides, nice curtains didn’t make a nice person.
As for how long she was going to stay in Rainbow Falls…
Who knew? That thought didn’t need to be voiced, though.
CHAPTER 26
Something about mornings in Montana put a song in Sam’s soul, and this Monday was no different. The rugged majesty of the Bitterroot Mountains provided more peace than any other locale he’d experienced, stateside or otherwise.
The calm was broken, though, with the clacking approach of someone in high heels. He made his way toward the driveway to meet the person. Visitors didn’t usually come this early in the morning; the sun had barely kissed the sky.
A woman with long, black hair approached. She wore a dark grey pantsuit and a no-nonsense expression. “Are you Sam Madison?”
He held out his hand. “I am.”
She handed him a business card in lieu of a handshake. “I’ve looked into your operation here.”
“Oh?”
“I’m an attorney with Tiller, Cromwell, and Erickson over in Peterman Falls. I handle corporate law, mostly. I take on a set number of pro bono cases, and I’ve long-since filled this year’s quota. I told a friend I’d check you out, though, so here I am. Tell me about your problem.”
Sam read the name on the card. Jette Black. Had to be a Rainbow Girl. Skye was somehow involved. He would take that to mean he could trust the stranger. It was a gamble, but his gut said to go for it. “City Council passed some new laws. In short, if we’re not running at eighty percent of capacity all the time, they can shut us down. If we have more than three residents removed for violent behavior during a year, they can shut us down. If we are not adding quality and benefit to Rainbow Falls, they can shut us down.”
“Quality and benefit? Your words, or theirs?”
“Theirs. It’s in the paperwork.”
“What kind of capacity are we talking about?”
He ran a hand over his head. “The impossible kind. They want us at eighty percent of what the fire marshal says we can hold.”
Jette’s mouth drew into a thin line. “How long is this list of conditions you have to meet?”
“It started with five points and an addendum that said they could add additional requirements at any time without public vote.”
“And have they?”
“We’re up to ten points now. On top of that, t
hey cited me for providing ‘deplorable’ living conditions because the roof’s in bad shape, but the company that’s willing to give us shingles at cost says they won’t do it till everything is settled with the City Council.”
“Am I stepping on your attorney’s toes by talking to you?”
Sam gave a single shake of his head. “He told me to jump at the chance if I could find anybody else who was more knowledgeable about this kind of thing.”
Her mouth tightened into a scowl. “If you’re interested in retaining my services, email me. Include whatever paperwork you have from the city. I’ll send you the client agreement and release form. I can’t do anything until you return the client agreement to me. The release form will allow me to contact your current attorney for information if I need to.”
“That’s all well and good, but I can’t pay you.”
“I know.”
“You’ve met your quota of pro bono cases for the year.”
She scowled at him. “Don’t remind me.”
Skye was skilled at talking in puzzles, but this woman had her beat by a mile. “Don’t ask me to read between the lines. Just tell me what it’s going to cost me.”
The hard look in her eyes softened the tiniest bit. “You’re going to owe me one colossal favor. I’ll let you know when I need to collect. You’re also going to give me your word you won’t hurt Skye. Because if you do, I might very well help the Council bury you.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a breach of ethics?”
Her eyes were back to onyx-hard again. “Don’t be a wise guy. And don’t take advantage of Skye.”
Sam tucked the business card into his back pocket. This kind of loyalty was familiar. Men and women who served in the same unit — who went through battles and risked their lives together — often developed a fierce loyalty like Jette was displaying . He understood this language a whole lot better than the confusing gibberish from before. “Tell me why Skye left Rainbow Falls.”
“She graduated high school. Her grandparents offered to pay for college.”
“But she never came back, not till a couple months ago when I met her on an airplane.”
Jette crossed her arms. “It’s her story to tell.”
“You’re the second person to say that to me, but Skye’s not sharing the story.”
The hint of a smirk touched Jette’s lips. “Then I guess she doesn’t trust you.”
Sam ground his teeth. “Then why are you helping me?”
“Tawny asked me to.”
“Tawny?”
Her smile didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “You thought Skye asked me to help? She hasn’t even bought a couch yet. She’s not ready to ask for favors. Favors mean you owe people, and owing people means you plan to stick around. She hasn’t quite made up her mind about Rainbow Falls.”
The creek of a resident’s door reached them. “Would you like to tour our facility?”
She gave a single headshake. “Assuming you’re interested in the help, email me. Otherwise, your loss. I’m not always easy to get along with, but I give my clients everything I have. And…”
“And?”
“And I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. I’m still trying to decide whether to warn Skye away or push her toward you.”
The black-haired enigma turned, and the echo of her clacking heels receded.
Sam sat at the office desk, typing up a progress report on one of the men, when the phone rang. “Samaritan’s Reach, this is Sam. How can I help you?”
“My name’s Fern. I work at Green & Son Automotive. We understand you drive an old van that might be in need of some maintenance.”
What was going on? “Fern…Green, is it?”
“Yes. Can I make an appointment for you?”
“Jette was just here.”
“Yeah, well, don’t let her intimidate you too much. She’s a softie underneath that rock-hard exterior, but she can scare the wrapper off a chocolate heart when she’s in a mood. So, about your van…”
“It’s due for an oil change, and there’s a check engine light that won’t go away.”
“I have an opening Wednesday at nine. You’ll probably want to drop it off, though. We’ll give it a thorough going-over and tell you what needs to be done to keep it in business.”
“There’s a reason I haven’t gotten the oil changed…”
“We’re willing to comp you on some of the work if you’ll give us a receipt for the donation of parts and labor.”
“You’re sure?”
“Has Skye talked to you since Friday?”
“Um, no. She wasn’t feeling well on Sunday and didn’t make it in. I won’t see her again until tomorrow.”
“Ah, well, I’ll let her explain. You might want to buckle up, though. You’re in for quite a ride. We’ll see you Wednesday at nine. Bring your van to Green & Son Automotive on the corner of Huntley and Jam.”
“What? What ride?”
The line was already dead.
He’d no sooner hung the phone up than someone came through the foyer door. “Sam, you in here?”
“Hey, Wyatt, good to see you. What can I do for you?”
Wyatt Phelps managed the local food bank and shared Sam’s passion for helping people.
The man removed his cowboy hat, ran a hand through his blond locks, and scuffed his boot on the floor.
A stone dropped in Sam’s stomach. “What’s up, Wyatt?”
“My board wanted me to call you, but I felt I owed you an in-person visit.”
Sam sank back into his desk chair and waved Wyatt toward the folding one still there from the week before. “Spit it out.”
“Several of the board members have decided it’s no longer in the best interest of the food bank to provide vouchers to your men.”
Heat climbed Sam’s chest as he leaned forward. “You’re cutting them off?”
Wyatt nodded, misery in every line of his face. “I fought the board, but they outnumbered me.”
“Why would they do this?” The old Sam would have punched something. The new Sam, the Sam who wanted to trust that God was in control, took a deep breath and battled the urge to blow up.
“I’m not sure. Nobody’s giving me a straight answer. The members who voted in favor aren’t saying a word. I think…”
The unfinished sentence grated on Sam like sandpaper. “You think what?”
“One of them is the new mayor’s son-in-law. Another is married to someone on the City Council.”
“You think the Council’s behind this?”
Wyatt bobbed his head in what could have been a nod or a shake, depending on the angle. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not exactly a conspiracy guy, but they’ve put you in a tight spot lately. I’ll keep digging for answers.”
“When are we cut off?”
“Vouchers already issued to you will be honored. It’s not much, but it’s the only concession I could get. They wanted me to flat-out ban you and your men from the food bank.”
Sam stood and offered Wyatt his hand. “Thanks for doing what you could and for having the decency to come tell me in person. I appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”
“You did what you could. I’ll figure this out. God is still in control, even if it doesn’t particularly feel like it at the moment.”
“Amen to that.”
The door closed behind Wyatt, and Sam slapped his hand on the desk. He was on the verge of making a dangerous mistake. It was simmering just below his skin. But he couldn’t very well storm city hall and tell them — at the top of his lungs — what he thought of their actions. He would demand answers, and oh wouldn’t it be satisfying to sink his fist into someone’s face? Why were people going out of their way to try to destroy his hard work? Samaritan’s Reach was a beneficial addition to the community, and it helped people, too.
The sixteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians jumped at him from the shadows of his anger. “…Act l
ike men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.” Acting like a man and doing-in-love didn’t mesh well, to Sam’s way of thinking. Not at the moment, anyway. It was God’s word, though, so it had to be right. Acting like a man meant doing things in love, not running off at the mouth — or with fists.
Sam took a deep breath and let the air out slowly. Anybody who said walking in faith was easy lied.
God, give me wisdom. I want to yell. I want to tear someone limb-from-limb. If not with my fists, then at least with words. You saved me from that, though. I’m not that person anymore. You’re supposed to be strong when I am weak, and right now, I’m weak. So be strong for me. And wise. I could really use that wisdom.
Gideon was talking to one of the newer men when Sam found him. “Be sure to ask, if you have any questions.”
The new guy — Jerald — walked off with a wave.
Sam caught Gideon’s eye. “Can I have a word?”
“Sure thing, Boss.”
“How’s Alonzo doing? With his job off-site, I don’t see him as much.”
Gideon shrugged. “He’s just happy he got hired. Doesn’t much like the job, but other than that, he’s fine. Status quo and all that.”
While Samaritan’s Reach tried to help the men acquire steady employment, it wasn’t always easy. Alonzo’s spot as a janitor at a local office building was a coup, even if the work itself wasn’t all that exciting.
“Anything else?” Gideon watched him, eyebrows raised.
Sam nodded. Alonzo was just the small talk. “Walk with me.”
The two men headed toward the field next to the shelter. Gideon, talkative as ever, kept quiet.
Sam pointed across the expanse. “I want to build a gym here. A workshop, too. An all-around better facility.”
“Dreaming’s good.”
Sam chuckled. “God-willing, it’ll be more than a dream. I haven’t given up yet.”
They took a few more steps before Sam broached the subject on his mind. “I’d like to increase your responsibilities around here, but before I can do that, I need to understand a few things.”
“Such as?”
“Your time in the service. How you ended up on the street.”