Skye

by Heather Gray

  Ten minutes in, sweat poured down Sam’s face. His head was starting to clear, too, allowing him to go back over the morning.

  Those pictures on the walls of the home were something else. Skye and her family. Skye had been out of Rainbow Falls for over a decade, but the pictures still hung on the wall. The place could use a good cleaning. A thick layer of dust covered every surface, giving it an abandoned feel. Like everyone left for work one day and never returned, a museum piece of a now-extinct family.

  And the look on Skye’s face…

  Agony.

  It was the only word that came close to describing the pain in her eyes as she’d tried to matter-of-factly explain the house to him.

  He hit the bag hard, let his gloved hand rebound back to him, and stood, deciding whether or not to swing again.

  “Done already?”

  Sam glanced around. Pastor Dennis was watching him. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Sam would have rather punched the bag again, but he could use his grown-up words if forced. “You ever want to fix something, but you don’t know how because you can’t tell where it’s broken?”

  The pastor gave a somber acknowledgement. “More times than I care to admit, and it’s almost always a person. I can replace a flat tire, but there’s not much I can do to mend a broken past, a hurting heart, or a deadly addiction. Far as I can tell, those are all God’s department, though. Not mine.”

  Sam rested gloved hands on his hips as he walked around in tight circles to cool down from the exercise he hadn’t properly warmed up for to begin with. “No argument there, but this is one I wish I could fix on my own because I’m not sure she’s willing to take help from Him.”

  Something passed over the pastor’s face. Remorse? That didn’t make sense. He must have misread it.

  “Women are complicated creatures, no two ways about it.”

  Maybe it hadn’t been remorse, but something was definitely off about the pastor. Everything had been fine until he’d mentioned… The pastor had a problem with him wanting to fix a woman? Or maybe not a problem…

  Remorse. What had it meant?

  Something had been off with Pastor Dennis for a while, and now was as good a time as any to try and get some answers. “Skye took me to the house she lived in with her mom back in the day.”

  All color drained from the pastor’s face. Whoa. He’d hoped for a reaction, but he hadn’t expected anything like this.

  Pastor Dennis blinked several times, turned around and stalked out of the gym without a word.

  Sam took two steps after him before stopping.

  Should he run after him and demand answers?

  No.

  He was back in the same situation he’d found himself in too often with Skye. Standing in the middle of an unmapped minefield.

  He needed a clear head before he traipsed out there into the middle of that mess. Metaphorical though they were, explosives were dangerous business.

  Instead of chasing after the pastor, Sam showered, dressed in some fresh clothes, and headed out to his car. He needed to squeeze in a visit to a grocer.

  Ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of Lucky Luke’s Grocerama. Who named their grocery store Grocerama? Every time Sam saw the name, he thought gross... Oh well. Nobody had asked him, right?

  Sam made his way over to Customer Service. “Hi there. Name’s Sam Madison, and I’m with Samaritan’s Reach. I was told your manager wants to talk to me.”

  The pregnant twenty-something girl behind the counter picked up the phone at her elbow. “Somebody from Samaritan’s Reach is here for you.” Her eyes widened. “Sure thing.” She rested the phone back in its cradle while looking at Sam with new interest. “Luke’ll see you. Go straight past dairy, take a right at the bathrooms, pass them, and circle around to the locked door. There’s a doorbell. Ring it with two short bursts, and he’ll let you in.”

  “Thank you for your help.” Sam headed through the maze of pasta, produce, and pet food. He turned at the restroom sign when he got to dairy and followed the hallway till it dead-ended at a dark brown fire door with a doorbell button half-hidden behind a fire extinguisher.

  He snaked his finger in behind the extinguisher and gave the button two short pushes. Before he could get his finger back out from behind the extinguisher, the door opened.

  “Sam, right?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Sam shook the man’s hand. Why had he always thought of grocers as short and stout? This guy rivaled him for height and had nothing to him but skin and bones.

  “I’m Luke. Follow me back.”

  Sam did as he was told. “I believe you talked to someone from our office about grocery donations.”

  Luke glanced back over his shoulder. “Skye, right?”

  Sam nodded as Luke indicated an office.

  As soon as Sam was through the door, Luke closed it tight and pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.”

  Just like a movie that had been playing last night on television. Sam was now buried in the bowels of a grocery store, and the only people who knew where he was were Luke and the girl from the Customer Service counter. The office door was closed tight, which either meant Luke wanted privacy, or he was up to something nefarious…

  Sam needed to cut back on late-night horror movies.

  “So…Luke? As in Lucky Luke’s?”

  The scarecrow of a man settled behind his desk and nodded. “My grandfather started the business, and since he slapped his name on it, the name had to be passed down. At least that’s the way he saw it. My dad, too.”

  “Not many family businesses around anymore.”

  “Especially grocery stores. Too many big chains trying to take over.”

  “How do you fight the competition?”

  “We sell a lot of locally sourced produce and specialty items. People have come to think of us as their year-round farmer’s market, in a way. As grocery competition heated up between the local stores, we plugged into a niche market, and it ended up fitting us pretty well.”

  Sam leaned back in his chair. “Skye tells me you’d like to help out Samaritan’s Reach.”

  “We would, but there’s a little more to it than that. It’s political, if you must know.” Luke grimaced. “I can tell you what’s going on, or you can stay in the dark. Either way is fine with me. I figured you deserve a choice, though.”

  “Honesty works for me.”

  Luke tipped his chair back and twirled a pen in his left hand. “This is more about transparency than honesty, but the point’s valid. So…” His chair thunked forward again. “Wyatt’s a distant cousin. We’ve been helping the food bank since he first took over and pitched it to me as a promotional win-win. And it has been. Our niche market likes that we help those in need, especially when it means none of our produce ends up in the dumpster out back.”

  “Sounds like a respectable use of resources.” Sam leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs.

  “Wyatt came to me about what the City Council is doing. He asked me to shift my donation from the food bank to Samaritan’s Reach.”

  Of their own volition, Sam’s legs stretched, and he stood. “What? Why? The food bank needs the help just as much as we do.”

  Luke was virtually unflappable. Sam’s sudden movements didn’t even make him blink. “That’s pretty much what I said, but he blew me off. Said this was the right thing to do, and I couldn’t change his mind. Also told me to make sure you don’t say anything about it. If word gets back the City Council, the food bank might end up in their sights, and Wyatt doesn’t want that.”

  Sam sat back down. “He’s putting his neck out for my guys.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve got his back. I’ll take full responsibility for it if word gets out that I moved my donation. I won’t let it splash back on Wyatt.”

  “Because he’s family?”

  “Because he’s right. The family part is a bonus.”

  Sam took a deep breath
. Thank you, God. “Tell me what I can do to help you.”

  Luke squinted at him. “Send one or two of your men over to do trash collection around the outside edge of the parking lot every couple of weeks. You know, where people’s junk gets stuck in the weeds. The east side is the worst.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Otherwise, just come each Tuesday at 5am with a big enough vehicle and enough men to haul out what we’ve put aside for you. Pull around to the loading dock in the back and ring the buzzer there.”

  “Is that one hidden behind a fire extinguisher?”

  “You’d think that’d deter people, right?” Luke snorted. “That’s why we had to set up a ring code. I was spending half my days running over to the door to see who was there only to catch the backside of some kid running away. Or Mrs. Peterson. She’s a hundred if she’s a day, and even with those glasses, she can’t see a thing, including the four-foot-tall picture of a woman on the door to the lady’s restroom.”

  That must have been a hassle-and-a-half.

  “Anyway, most weeks it’s produce and dairy. The last week of the month is a lot of nonperishables. Some other things are hit and miss, but that’s the basic rundown. So I’ll see you next Tuesday at five in the morning.”

  Luke held out his hand, and the men shook. Then the grocer opened the office door and led Sam back to the brown metal door.

  Before long, Sam was in his car again and heading back to Samaritan’s Reach.

  God was faithful. It had felt like touch and go lately, but God had never turned away from their need or from the men He’d called Sam to help.

  He couldn’t wait to tell the guys.

  Sam held his Bible open to the book of Hebrews. He was ready to start his morning Bible study, but the words wouldn’t come. Skye sat there, hiding behind her coffee cup and trying to act as if yesterday hadn’t happened. At least, that’s how it came across.

  “What chapter?”

  He snapped his gaze down to the page in front of him to see where he was. “Four.”

  “Which verses?”

  The highlighted ones, of course. Because everyone knew that when you had no idea what you were doing, you went to the highlighted verses, the ones that had meant something to you at some point in the past even if you couldn’t remember when or for what reason.

  Then again, maybe that was just Sam’s shortcut. Either way… “Fifteen and sixteen. You want to read them?”

  Her hesitation lasted only a second, long enough for her to flinch and try to act as if she hadn’t. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

  Sam drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. Now he remembered why he’d liked those verses enough to highlight them. “What does it mean when it says Jesus was tempted like us?”

  Skye bit her bottom lip before answering. “You can’t live life on this planet without being tempted in some way, shape, or form. Whether we’re tempted to lie, lash out at someone, or hide from things that hurt — we all face temptation.”

  “You’re not the same person now as when you first came to Samaritan’s Reach. Do you remember that first day?”

  “Don’t remind me. Not my finest moment.”

  “You were scared.”

  She gave a single nod.

  “You were scared before the incident with Alan.”

  Another nod.

  “Do you think fear’s a temptation?”

  Skye sucked in a big breath, held it for a long time, then gave another single nod as she released the air. “Not for everyone, but for some.”

  A knock at the foyer door interrupted them. Man, he was going to need to put up a Do Not Disturb sign at the rate they were going. What happened to the good ol’ days when nobody bothered him before he propped the door open in the mornings?

  Sam rounded the counter. A young woman stood on the other side of the glass door. People didn’t usually end up at Samaritan’s Reach on accident, but it did occasionally happen. He pulled the door wide. “Can I help you?”

  “I, uh…” Her words faltered, and she chewed on her bottom lip while staring at her hands. “I’m looking for my uncle.”

  Sam’s heart clenched. Not many family members came around. Most of the men traveled far from home before landing at Samaritan’s Reach. If she was someone local looking for a lost relative… “What’s his name?”

  She met his gaze, and her eyes pleaded with him. “Gideon Sharpe.”

  He did his best to keep his face blank, but had she given him a front kick to the solar plexus, he couldn’t have been more surprised. “Gideon?”

  “Is he still here? I know sometimes…um…homeless people… They move on a lot. But I need to find him. It’s important.”

  “All guests sign in.” He stepped aside, allowing her to enter the foyer. Then he pointed her toward the clipboard on the counter.

  She wrote her name. Gabbie Pierce. She pulled out her wallet and copied her driver’s license number onto the form without a word.

  Sam got a look at the picture on her license. It matched her face. And Gideon’s sister’s name had been Pierce.

  The girl put the pen down and swung to him, her fingers clasped tightly together in front of her.

  “Follow me.” Was Gideon ready for this? Things had gone so badly at his sister’s house. Did he even know he had a niece?

  They reached Gideon’s door before Sam got far enough through his thoughts. If his brain had been a little more in gear, he’d have started praying as soon as they exited the office. Instead, he’d been worrying.

  It was too late for anything wordy, but he could still get in a few words.

  Please help.

  Sam took a deep breath and knocked.

  The door opened. “Hey, Boss. What’s up?”

  “There’s someone here to see you.”

  Gideon’s eyebrows shot up as he tried to peer over Sam’s shoulder.

  Sam blocked the whole doorway on purpose, though. He wanted to give the resident a second or two to adjust to the idea. “Your niece is here.”

  The eyebrows shot higher still, so high they looked like little waves surfing over the tops of his spectacles. “Niece? I didn’t know… I have a niece?”

  “Looks like it.”

  When Gideon reached out to push Sam aside, the bigger man shifted out of the way.

  “Remember the rules. Your door has to stay open.” The words were probably wasted on Gideon. He wasn’t listening to Sam. He only had eyes for his niece.

  “Hi, Uncle Gid. I’m Gabbie.”

  Tears welled in Gideon’s eyes, and Sam took that as his cue to leave.

  He returned to the office. Skye sat where he’d left her. “Is that really Gideon’s niece?”

  “Seems so.”

  “Is he okay?”

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t think we’ll know that till after she’s gone.”

  He settled back at the desk and looked at the passage they’d been talking about. “So…fear.”

  A grin shaped her mouth into something…

  No. Not kissable. That was not where his mind had been heading. Uh-oh, no way.

  Skye lifted an eyebrow. “Yep. Fear and temptation. Unless you’d rather talk about Gideon and his niece.”

  Sam shook his head as he yanked together the wandering ribbons of his thoughts. “I don’t see fear in you anymore, not for a while now. Did you overcome it?”

  She picked up a retractable ballpoint pen and started screwing and unscrewing the base that held the ink cartridge in place. “It’s not there all the time now, but it still shows up now and then. Certain things make it worse, but even then, it’s not controlling me. I used to have all-out panic attacks and this constant anxiety that kept my blood pressure high and my enthusiasm for life low. It’s no wa
y to live.”

  “What changed?”

  Before Skye could answer — or avoid answering, as her thinned lips and flared eyes indicated — a knock sounded on the foyer’s glass door.

  Pastor Dennis stood on the other side, a strained look on his face.

  CHAPTER 33

  Pastor Dennis walked in, took the knit cap from his head, and nodded to them.

  Skye stood to go. “I can leave you gentlemen alone.”

  “No.” The pastor shifted from one foot to another. “It’s you I need to speak to, Skye, but it affects Sam and the shelter, too, so I’d like him to stay if that’s alright.”

  Every time the pastor had looked at her oddly flashed through Skye’s mind. “What’s this about?”

  He waved toward the desk. “Sit. I think better on my feet. Must be all the preaching.”

  Skye sank back into the desk chair, but Sam continued to stand with his arms crossed as he stared at the pastor.

  “I, uh, wasn’t always a pastor.”

  Why did Skye have the feeling she wouldn’t like where this was going?

  “In fact, I used to deal drugs here in Rainbow Falls.”

  Skye jumped up from her chair and grabbed her purse. “I need to leave.”

  Sam looked back and forth from her to the pastor before closing his eyes for a second. He was praying. She was sure of it. He was hurt, too. It was plain as day in the strained lines of his face and the way his shoulders had curved forward at the pastor’s words. She should have just told him about her mom and her childhood in Rainbow Falls. Weeks ago. Or even that morning. Anytime.

  By not telling him, though, she’d been able to pretend — in a weird, small, bizarre way — that life was different. She could ignore the past if nobody dared bring it up to her. Except that it still ate at her on the inside, which was why she kept pushing others away, including Sam. Including God.

  “I need to say this.” Pastor Dennis’ plaintive words stalled Skye’s exit.

  She sank back into the desk chair, slapped her purse down on the desktop, and crossed her arms, mimicking at least part of Sam’s posture of moments ago.