Home to Hart's Crossing (21 page)

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Authors: Robin Lee Hatcher

Tags: #Domestic fiction; American, #Christian, #Neighborhood, #Neighborhoods, #Christian fiction; American, #Family Life, #General, #Romance, #Love stories; American, #Large Type Books, #Fiction, #Religious, #Contemporary

BOOK: Home to Hart's Crossing
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“I was hoping to see you on Friday. Any chance you’re free on such short notice?”

Relief flooded through her when she realized his call wasn’t about the Little League.
Thank goodness
. She reached for her planner. “My last appointment is at 4:00. I could fit you in right after that.”

“No. That wasn’t what I meant.” He half-chuckled, half-coughed. “I…uh…I wondered if you’d like to go to the movies with me. There’s a
War of the Worlds
double feature playing at the Apollo, first the 1953 version, then the newer one. I’ve seen them both before, lots of action and special effects. The Tom Cruise one’s kind of gory but not too bad.” He cleared his throat. “They aren’t great movies, but they’re what’s playing.”

It took Terri a moment to process his words. Was he asking her out on a date?

“I thought we could have dinner at the diner first.”

Yes, he was definitely asking her out. Dinner and a movie was a date. She wasn’t sure what to do. Mel was a nice, likable guy, but he was a banker, not a cowboy.

“Terri? Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“If you’re busy right now”—obviously, he was giving her an out—“you could call me back later with your answer.”

She opened her mouth, planning to decline his invitation, but surprised herself when she said, “No, I’m not busy, Mel. I’d like to see the movies with you.”

“Great.” He sounded pleased. “How about I pick you up at your house at 5:30?”

“That would be fine.”

“See you Friday.”

Terri returned the handset to its cradle. Talk about out of practice. It was almost a year since a man had asked her out, and that time she’d seen it coming long before it happened. Why had this invitation caught her off-guard?

She let the memory of her few encounters with Mel play through her mind, and for the life of her, she couldn’t think of one instance—not even last Sunday when he’d brought the cake over to share with Lyssa—where he’d indicated a personal interest that might have prepared her.

What if she’d made a horrible mistake in agreeing? He was Lyssa’s baseball coach. If Terri and Mel didn’t get along, if their date was a complete bust, what would that mean for her daughter? Mel could make Lyssa’s experience on the team miserable.

Terri pictured him in her mind again, sitting at her kitchen table, talking to Lyssa, and her worries eased.

Chapter 6

“MOM! MOM, WAKE UP!”

Terri heard Lyssa’s voice through the mist of a dream. A dream she wasn’t ready to leave.

“Mom!”

A hand shook her shoulder, and Terri came awake with a jolt. “Lyssa?” Her gaze shot to the digital clock at her bedside: 2:47 a.m. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared.” Lyssa lifted the covers and crawled into bed beside her mother.

“What is it, honey? Did you have a bad—” As she began to ask the question, she felt a blast of wind shake the house, giving her the answer. “It’s storming, isn’t it?” She put an arm around Lyssa’s back and drew her close. “Well, don’t worry. March likes to come in with a lot of wind. We’ll snuggle down under these blankets and get some sleep. By the time we wake up, it’ll be over.”

Her words were true for Lyssa, but sleep evaded Terri as the storm continued to batter the house, whistling around the eaves. A leafless tree danced eerily outside her bedroom window, the shadows cast upon the blinds by a nearby streetlight. Then the lightning began, a bright flash, followed by a crack of thunder, another gust of wind, another flash of lightning, more thunder, again and again and again.

Terri hated storms like this one. They made the old place creak and moan. They made this small house feel fragile, and then Terri felt small and fragile, too. In the middle of a stormy night, she felt too alone, too frightened, and too insignificant to handle what life tossed her way.

She glanced toward the clock. It was past 3:30. It seemed much more than an hour since Lyssa had awakened her.

Drawing a deep breath, Terri searched her mind for memorized words from Psalm 107, comforting words that she’d turned into a personal prayer for times such as this.

God, you can still the storm to a whisper. You can hush the waves of the sea. I will be glad when it grows calm because I know you will guide me to my desired haven.

The fear in her heart receded as she silently repeated more words from the Psalms.

In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety.

At last, the thunder moved into the distance, rolling across the heavens but no longer close and threatening. The gusting winds slowed. Raindrops began to rat-a-tat-tat against the windowpane, a moment of warning before the skies opened in earnest.

Unlike wind, lightning, and thunder, Terri loved the sound of falling rain. She rolled onto her side, kissed Lyssa’s forehead, and closed her eyes.

In peace I will lie down and sleep.

Perhaps she could find her way back to that lovely dream. She didn’t recall what it had been about, only that she’d felt happy in that misty playground of her mind at rest.

The doorbell rang once, then again.

Terri’s heart felt as if it missed several beats as she sat up, tossing aside the blankets. She grabbed for her robe and rushed from the bedroom. A fist pounded on the door as she descended the stairs, alarming her even more.

She reached the door and jerked it open. Dave Coble stood on her stoop, his police hat and uniform covered with protective rain gear. “Dave?” She reminded herself that Lyssa was safe and asleep in the bed upstairs. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“Sorry to get you up at this hour, Terri, but I thought you should know. That tree between your shop and the real estate office. The storm snapped it in two, and the top half came down on the roof of your building. Tore clean through.” He jerked his head toward the rainy street. “I imagine things are getting mighty wet inside about now.”

Her heart sank. “The salon’s damaged?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Nothing you can do until the rain stops, far as I can tell. Too slick to let anybody get up on the roof while it’s still dark. Powers out over on that side of town, something must’ve hit a transformer. Come first light you should be able to assess the damage.”

Dawn was about three hours away. How much of the roof was gone? Would water destroy the inside of the salon? Shouldn’t she go down there now and see for herself? No, she couldn’t leave Lyssa all alone, and she couldn’t wake her up and take her along; it was a school night. Besides, what could she do by herself anyway?

“I’d best be on my way, Terri. Sorry for waking you in the middle of the night with news like this, but I figured you’d want to know so you can get an early start.”

“I’m glad you told me.” She wasn’t sure she meant that. A part of her would have preferred ignorance for a few more hours. Maybe she would have fallen back to sleep. She wouldn’t sleep now, that was certain.

Dave Coble pinched the brim of his hat between index finger and thumb, gave a brief nod of his head, and turned to walk away. “’Night, Terri.”

“Good night, Dave.” With a sigh, she closed the front door.

How bad is it?
She had insurance on the building. Where had she put the policy? How much would it cover on the repairs?
Oh, Lord. If I can’t work, how can I take care of Lyssa? Where will the money come from?

* * *

As soon as Mel heard that a tree had fallen on Terri’s building in the previous night’s storm, he left the bank and walked down Main Street to see if he could be of help. He found Terri, Angie, and Bill standing on the sidewalk at the southwest corner of the salon. Angie’s right arm was around Terri’s shoulders in a comforting embrace, and from the look on Terri’s face, she needed plenty of comfort.

“Morning, Mel,” Bill said.

“Morning.” He stopped beside the threesome. “I heard the storm did some damage.” He turned and looked in the direction the others had been staring a short while before.
Oh, man.
The old gnarled tree that stood between the two buildings had snapped in two, the top crashing down on the roof of Terri’s Tangles Beauty Salon.

Terri turned toward Angie and pressed her face into the curve of her friend’s shoulder as she wept.

“Have you been inside yet?” Mel asked Bill softly.

“Not me, but Terri has.”

“Come on. Let’s have a look.”

Bill glanced at his fiancée. “Wait here for us.”

Angie nodded.

The two men walked away.

As soon as they were out of hearing, Mel said, “Is she okay?”

“Terri? She’s pretty shaken up. She’s worried about the insurance coverage and how soon she’ll be able to return to work.”

Mel opened the door and stepped inside. Rainwater covered the floor in the main room. The water wasn’t deep but it was enough to do serious damage to the floor and drywall. Bottles of hair care products were scattered across the salon, mingling with twigs, broken tree limbs, dried leaves, and small pink curlers. A thick branch of the fallen tree hung through the ceiling above one of the chairs. Looking up, Mel saw the cloudy sky above the large hole in the roof.

“We’d better get a tarp over that before it dumps more rain on us,” he said.

“I was thinking the same thing. I’ll head over to the hardware store to get a tarp and some rope. We’ll need guys with chainsaws, too. I’ll put out the word for help.”

Mel thought of the expression on Terri’s face. “Maybe you should ask Angie to take her home.”

“She won’t go.” Bill shook his head. “Trust me on that. She’s tiny, but she’s tough. She’s had to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s never had it easy. She lost both parents when she was a teenager. Then she married Vic, who’s a classic deadbeat dad. He doesn’t pay child support so she’s got to financially care for Lyssa on her own. There aren’t any living family members for them to lean on in hard times.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “She took a risk, buying this building, but she made it succeed. Now look at it.” He shook his head again. “She’s taking it hard, but she’ll rally. She always does.”

* * *

By early afternoon, the rain had passed. Men with chainsaws—under the direction of Larry Tatlock, owner of a local tree service—had cut the broken trunk into sections and stacked the wood in the parking space behind the shop.

At least I’ll have plenty of firewood next winter,
Terri thought as she carried a plastic garbage bag to the Dumpster in the alley.

Tears threatened, but she swallowed them. She hadn’t any time to give in to self-pity. Besides, look at all the people who’d turned out to help as soon as they heard what happened. She was blessed with many good friends.

BJ Olson, her insurance agent, had said he would have information for her this afternoon regarding estimates, and Bill Palmer had a friend who was a contractor. Someone else—she didn’t remember who—had said he thought she could be working inside her salon again in two or three weeks. It might be inconvenient with some construction continuing, but it would be doable. She hoped he was right.

She tossed the trash bag into the blue Dumpster and turned to face the rear of her building. Hers and the Farmers Independent Bank’s building, that is. The mortgage payment for the brick and frame structure wasn’t much, all things considered, but neither was her income most months. If she had to close the salon for two weeks or more…

Lord, please let the insurance cover the cost of repairs.

The Idaho Bureau of Occupational Licenses was strict about how and where a licensed cosmetologist practiced her trade. Otherwise, Terri could cut hair in her kitchen until the repairs to the salon were finished. But the law wouldn’t allow her to do that, and she didn’t believe in breaking the law.

Mel Jenkins exited the back door of the building, packing an armload of branches that he’d cleared from the interior of her salon. At some point during the day, he’d changed from business attire into faded Levi’s and a blue sweatshirt. It was a good look on him.

He dropped the debris on top of a growing pile of the same, then brushed dried leaves from the front and sleeves of his sweatshirt. When he turned, he saw her. After a moment’s hesitation, he strode forward.

“How’re you holding up?”

Oh, those blasted tears! There they were, threatening again. “I’m okay. Thanks.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “School will be out soon. I’m not sure Lyssa should be here during the clean-up.”

“Why don’t you go on home? There isn’t anything we’re doing that requires you to be here. We’ll make sure nothing important gets tossed out.”

“I don’t know…”

“Let Angie drive you home,” he said gently. “You’re exhausted. You should get some rest.”

His image swam before her.

“Hey.” His hand alighted on her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

She choked on a sob.

A heartbeat later, he drew her into his embrace. “It’ll be okay.” He patted her back. “It’ll be okay.”

Despite her tears, she smiled a little, sensing his uncertainty. It had been a long while since a man held her in his arms. Had it been as long since Mel held a woman the way he was holding her now?

* * *

It took every ounce of Mel’s will not to brush the tears from Terri’s cheeks with his thumbs and then kiss her quivering lips. He wanted to comfort her. He wished he could draw her closer, hold on tight, not let her go for a long, long while, not until he could make everything better for her.

Except he’d learned that he couldn’t always make things better. He couldn’t stop people from hurting, or from dying.

“Life is hard,” Mel’s mother had often said. “But God is good.”

For a time, such comments had made him want to rage. How could a good God allow bad, senseless things to happen? Why did the innocent so often suffer? He’d found no human answers to those questions, but somehow, some way, the rage in his heart had ceased. He’d begun to trust again, trust that the God of heaven had a plan and a purpose in all things.

Terri drew a shuddering breath and stepped back. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”

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