Frostpoint
Page 18
“I’m Stephie George,” the woman said, coming up the stairs. “I’m Alice and Timothy’s mother.” Stephie was the spitting image of her daughter, with the same dark eyes and curls.
“Boy, am I glad to see you,” Jake said before accepting an embrace from the woman.
“I hate to sound like a parrot,” Stephie said. “But thank you so much for finding my kids and helping them get to that FEMA camp. I owe you and Marcy everything.”
“I appreciate your gratitude,” Jake said, smiling all around. “And I can’t thank you enough for driving all the way down here.”
“Indianapolis is still a bit of a mess,” Marcy said with a shrug.
“Plus, I wanted to meet the people who helped bring my family back together,” Stephie added.
Terry gestured all around. “You’ve got a beautiful place here.”
“Beautiful, but cold,” Sara added. “Let’s get you all inside. We’ve got food, hot coffee, cocoa, and adult libations.”
“That sounds great,” Terry chuckled.
Jake held the door while everyone went inside. The children were all introduced to each other, and the adults moved to the kitchen where they poured wine and popped the tops off beers. Tex told story after story, much to everyone’s delight. There was laughter all around, and the party grew even bigger after Barbara, Kayla, and Karen joined them.
Stepping over by the fire, Jake took a moment to look around and be grateful for what he had. His family was safe, and he had the support of a close-knit group of friends and acquaintances. Dion and Natasha had gone back to Cincinnati to help their family; however, they were considering moving down to Tennessee once everything was back to normal.
It might take months or years, but with a little faith and perseverance, they would get there.
Jake met Sara’s gaze from across the room where she leaned against the counter. She raised her wine glass, eyes sparkling as she cocked her head to the side. Jake raised his beer and looked adoringly on his wife.
It was good to be alive.
Chapter 33
Sara, Gatlinburg, Tennessee
Sara toasted her husband, took a sip of her wine, and lowered the glass. Her insides felt warm, and even the ache in her shoulder was just a second thought. Watching everyone in the room, Sara was filled with a sense of bonhomie.
Her son Todd no longer held himself gingerly, and that was a good thing. The lack of activity had been starting to get to him, so it was good seeing him out there working around the house. Tex sat at the kitchen table across from Terry and Stephie, regaling them with his theories about what challenges remained for their wounded, but proud, country.
Zoe was deep into a game with Marcy’s kids, Alice, and Timothy. It was a loud and obnoxious game, although Sara wouldn’t stop them from having their fun. She would let them wear themselves out, because that meant they’d be ready for bed in a few hours.
Perhaps Sara could set a record for a good night’s rest—seven days in a row—sleeping beside her husband. He’d already started to work long hours with the construction crews around Sevierville, so Sara suspected it wouldn’t be long before Jake was coming home late every night, too exhausted to think.
There was even talk of them moving on to more projects along the East Coast as those communities continued to rebuild.
Sara understood that Jake’s skills and leadership were needed by the community, and she would support him in that. Sara had several new projects herself. The most challenging was the hydroponic garden, which was a tremendous test of her horticultural skills. And she also contributed to the local high school, Gatlinburg-Pittman, in getting their program back on track. The school board had opted to start the upcoming school year after Christmas with the idea that they would work through the summer to get caught up.
Todd would be attending his final year of high school in Tennessee with Barbara, as Sara and Jake prepared to make Pine Bluff Mountain their permanent home. The two kids would finish out their senior years together, and Sara hoped they found a way to stay together after that, despite the possibility that their college choices might divide them. Todd was talking about going to engineering school, and Barbara planned on applying for the United States Military Academy.
“Earth to Sara,” Marcy said, waving her hand in front of Sara’s face.
Sara snapped out of her reverie and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking.” Sara had instantly taken a liking to Marcy. The woman was quirky and smart, and Sara liked that about her. And while they’d not specifically talked about it yet, Sara knew they would eventually broach the subject of how they’d survived the past month and a half while remaining sane.
“Out with it, Sara,” Marcy said, fixing her with a serious look even as a grin tugged at one corner of her mouth. “What’s going on up there in your brain?”
“You know what?” Sara smiled. “I’m just really happy, I think. Happy to have my husband back. Happy my kids are alive and well. Happy you guys came down.”
“I’ll toast to that.” Marcy held up her wine glass, and Sara gently clinked hers against it.
Chapter 34
Rita, Albuquerque, New Mexico
The rifle report cracked the sky, the sound echoing through the cool valley as the bullet punctured a target a hundred yards away and buried itself in the dirt hill behind it.
Rita came up behind Bobby Junior and peered over his shoulder with a pair of binoculars. “Not bad,” she said. “But it’s off center to the left. Remember. All you need is a gentle, steady squeeze on the trigger. Don’t jerk it. Don’t anticipate the shot, or flinch.”
Bobby Junior nodded and wiped a shock of golden-brown hair out of his eyes. The boy was already getting tall, like his father. At the rate he was going, he might reach well over six feet.
“Now, relax your shoulders a moment,” Rita said, “and try again.”
Bobby Junior set the rifle down on the table in front of him and shook his shoulders out. Then he picked up the gun and peered down the sights again.
Rita lifted her head to the sky, reveling in the smell of dust and sun. She’d hated growing up in Albuquerque as a teenager, thinking the desert city was a dry, morbid place where dreams died. And she’d been delighted when her husband had gotten her out and taken her to St. Louis, Missouri.
Of course, a lot had changed over the past few months, giving Rita a new life perspective and a new love for her old home. There was plenty of room for the gun range, and the nearest neighbors were two miles away. Her parents’ cellar had plenty of room to stock supplies, and Rita had gotten her father’s permission to have a large shipping container customized into a shelter and buried somewhere on the property. They were going to scout for some potential spots later that day.
Yes, she loved being back in Albuquerque, and her family loved having her back.
Rita had built the private target range with her father and sister’s help. The covered blind kept the worst of the sun off their heads while they put holes in targets. Next year, Rita hoped to cover part of the range with a roof and install a target retrieval system.
The rifle went off again, and Rita turned and raised the binoculars to check Bobby Junior’s placement. “You keep shooting like that,” Rita said with an impressed tone, “the crawlers will never stand a chance next time they try us.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Bobby Junior grinned at his bull’s-eye.
Rita turned to her daughters where they sat at the preparation bench. They looked cute with their padded ear protection on their tiny heads. Rita waved to them, and the girls waved back. Then Rita pointed to her oldest, Lacy, mouthing the words, “You’re next.”
Lacy gave Rita a thumbs-up and took a swig of water from her canteen. For the first time in a very long time, Rita felt centered and at peace with the world.
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