Just Enough Light (29 page)

As soon as Kellen grabbed her boots, Bogart went to the door, tail wagging enthusiastically, which had Dana looking up. “Going somewhere?”

“Rain or snow, Bogart still needs to go out. Then I thought I’d check on the folks at the clinic before bringing the girls back.”

“Why don’t I go with you as far as the girls’ cabin?” Dana stood, signaling an end to her conversation with Grant. “I can spend some time with them until you get back.”

“That would be nice. Storms tend to scare them both. Just one question, though.” The corner of Kellen’s mouth lifted. “When was the last time you were on snowshoes?” Dana’s eyes told Kellen all she needed to know. “That’s what I thought. Don’t worry about it. We’ll take it slow.”

As the blizzard settled in and buried the region under new snow, state emergency coordinators advised everyone to stay inside and avoid all travel, especially in the backcountry.

Not that the warning was needed. Nothing was moving. Deep drifts had made the roads impassable and power outages were being reported throughout all the nearby counties.

Something about the howling winds and snow piling up at a rapid rate reminded Dana of long-forgotten childhood winters in Boston, when storms had paralyzed the city. In those days, she’d failed to see a problem. Now she watched with growing concern.

The clinic was equipped with standby generators, so they’d be operational in the event of a power outage, and since most of the staff was on hand, bunking in the student dorms until the storm blew over, they were well-situated to deal with emergencies.

But she knew a lot of people in and around Haven weren’t as lucky.

So she wasn’t surprised when the state police radioed and asked if Kellen and her teams could provide assistance and temporary shelter to some of the people the extended power outage had left in the cold. Nor was she surprised when Kellen immediately agreed.

“We can move the girls into my cabin,” she suggested. “I have more than enough firewood, and even the cabins that are still being renovated will serve. At a minimum, they’ll provide warmth and shelter, and we can provide food.”

Annie nodded. “And once those are all in use, and the dorms, there’s always the gym. I’m sure we can come up with enough sleeping bags to see us through.”

Dana watched with a combination of pride and fear as Kellen gathered her team and they prepared to head out on snowmobiles in near constant whiteout conditions. Kellen paired them up and ensured everyone had a radio to communicate, not only with each other, but with Annie and Dana in the clinic.

Dana bit her lip, worried about Kellen working under dangerous conditions. Worried she would take too many chances if it meant helping someone. But she knew this was who Kellen truly was. The first one out the door, ready to help.

She suspected Kellen’s time on the street had helped shape and strengthen this particular aspect of her nature. Remembering all those times she had needed help and no one had been there for her no doubt fueled and drove her to ensure no one else went through what she had on her own. Dana even admired the trait, but she feared where it might lead.

For what seemed a long time, although it might have been measured in seconds, she stood silently watching as Kellen prepared to leave, waiting until the last moment before she reached for Kellen’s hand. “Please be careful. And please don’t do anything heroic or crazy out there. I know you’re doing what’s necessary, but it’s not just the weather I’m worried about. It frightens me because I know Broussard is still out there.”

“With the near-zero visibility, Broussard won’t be able to see the broad side of a barn, let alone be able to hit it,” Kellen said with a wry smile, but she left her hand in Dana’s. “So please don’t worry. In fact, if he’s smart, he’s holed up somewhere he can safely ride out the storm.”

“God, I hope so.”

Kellen drew her closer. “As for what we’re doing, it’s all in a day’s work, so have faith. We won’t take unnecessary chances, and we’ll be back with plenty of houseguests before you know it. In the meantime, maybe you could do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can you keep an eye on the girls? Especially Ren.”

Dana looked at her sharply. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Kellen shook her head. “Neither of them deals well with crowds. Ren just has a harder time. It’ll help if you keep Bogart with her. He’ll help to keep her calm and grounded in the present.”

“Like he does with you,” Dana murmured. “How long do you think she’ll need? How long did it take you to come to terms with what your parents did to you and what you experienced on the street?”

Tension visibly washed over Kellen’s face and Dana silently cursed herself.
How could I have asked that?
But by then it was too late.

“Twenty years and counting,” Kellen answered roughly.

*

Just before she headed out, Kellen heard Liz call out to her. Pausing in the act of slipping on a helmet over her full-face ski mask, she turned and waited.

“Maybe while you’re rescuing people, you could try to convince Michelle this is a better place than Up the Creek to ride out the storm,” Liz said.

“Michelle Barret?” Kellen looked at Liz for a long moment then nodded and managed a soft laugh. “About time—she’s a terrific lady. Let me see what I can do for you.”

“You do that.” Liz grinned. “And be careful out there. It looks positively brutal.”

Brutal turned out to be putting it mildly.

It was colder than expected and progress was painfully slow. The high winds, coupled with treacherous drifting snows, had left cars buried and roadways blocked, which would make it harder for plows and utility trucks to get through once the storm system passed. In the meantime, visibility was so bad it hampered rescue efforts and left the teams unable to see more than a foot in front of them.

But their focus remained reaching people and places otherwise inaccessible and rescuing anyone in emergency situations. People who needed medical care, food, or whose homes were without heat. Some had also been without water since the power had gone out.

Everyone worked tirelessly, and with each trip back to the clinic, those who’d been rescued brought what food staples they could carry. Kellen noticed Dana, Liz, and one of the other doctors had set up a triage area, checking the health of each person brought in and assigning them beds, while Annie, Cody and Ren, and several volunteers gathered the food and offered hot soup, sandwiches, and coffee.

But there was no relief in sight. Hazardous conditions and deteriorating weather complicated the rescue of both locals and stranded motorists which continued throughout the day and well into the night.

After another run back to the clinic with a special passenger for Liz, Kellen accepted a coffee and stood off to one side, closing her eyes and wondering if it was possible to fall asleep standing up. She figured she might find out if she could stand there for just another couple of minutes…

“You should probably have something to eat with that coffee,” Dana said softly, deliciously warm body heat emanating from her as she wrapped her arms around Kellen’s waist. “Why don’t I get you a sandwich while you go sit in my office for a few minutes?”

Although she wasn’t particularly hungry, Kellen nodded, recognizing on some level it had been hours since she had last eaten, and if nothing else, she needed to replenish the calories she was burning.

She made her way to the quiet office, struggling to work the zipper on her jacket with cold and unresponsive hands before finally managing to peel it off just as Dana returned. She gratefully ate the thick cheese sandwich Dana brought her, downed two cups of hot coffee, and felt infinitely more human.

“You should try to rest for a while before you go out again,” Dana told her. “You’re running on fumes and you’re more likely to get hurt if you keep going like this.”

“Actually, I’m good,” she said. “The food and caffeine did the trick and we still have a stretch of homes to check on. In fact, I should go.” She leaned closer for a brief, tantalizing moment and kissed Dana full on the mouth. A short, gentle kiss that nonetheless sent a flash of heat and desire that burned deep inside her.

Dana looked at her, speechless and startled, and Kellen had the pleasure of watching her eyes darken with need.

“Do me a favor and hold that thought until I get back.”

*

Dana spent the better part of the next few hours dealing with everything from mild frostbite to a heart attack one man had suffered while trying to shovel his way out of his home. Through the chaos, she tried to keep an eye on Cody and Ren, aware that as time passed, both girls had grown more quiet and withdrawn.

She had promised Kellen she’d keep an eye on the girls, so during a much needed break, she grabbed a couple of coffees and brought them over to where Ren was sitting, absently stroking Bogart. “If I remember correctly, you take your coffee with lots of milk.”

Nodding and murmuring thanks, Ren took a few hesitant sips before looking at Dana. “Do you think Kellen’s okay out there?”

“Yes. She’ll be cold and tired by the time she gets back, but she’ll be fine. Not only is she doing what she loves, it just so happens she’s the best at what she does. Is that what’s troubling you?”

Ren looked down at the coffee cup in her hands before she shook her head. “No. I just don’t do well when there are too many people around. It scares me and reminds me of before.”

Dana wasn’t certain whether she meant when she lived on the street or what came before that, at home with an abusive father. Probably a bit of both. But she left the question unasked. “Would you prefer I leave you alone?”

“No.” Though she still appeared to be uneasy, at least Ren was watching her with more interest than trepidation now. “You’re different.”

“What do you mean?”

“She means you don’t look down on Kellen or Ren and me because we lived on the street,” Cody said quietly as she sat on the floor beside them. “Even though you came from a real home with parents who actually cared about you.”

Cared about her? In spite of their inability to be demonstrative and openly show affection, in their own way, Dana knew her parents cared and wanted what was best for her. The only real issue between them was a fundamental disagreement about what constituted the best for her.

But she knew neither Ren nor Cody had experienced anything remotely close to parental love. “That doesn’t make me any better than you,” she said. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Maybe. But a lot of other people, they think they’re better than us, or think we did something to deserve where we ended up.” Cody shrugged and drew Ren closer to her. “You’re not like that. We also think it’s kind of nice that you don’t seem to mind Ren and me being around all the time.”

“That’s because I don’t mind.”

Cody mulled that over, clearly trying to make up her mind whether she was going to buy it. “And you don’t seem to mind that we climb into bed with you and Kellen when we get scared.”

“I don’t mind that either. In fact, I kind of like it.”

Cody swallowed, looked at Ren, then back again. “And you don’t laugh at us because there’s so much we don’t know and need to learn. Or mind that Ren and Kellen have so many nightmares. Or that Ren starts to draw and forgets to eat or sleep or show up for work. Or that Kellen needs to go off and be by herself every now and then.”

Dana nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. I don’t mind any of that. Do you know why?”

“Because you love Kellen.”

“That’s true, but it’s only part of the story. What else?” she asked, aware both girls were studying her.

It was Ren who answered this time. “Because maybe you think we’re not so bad.” Her tone was guardedly hopeful.

Dana smiled. “Not bad. Try again.”

This time, the vulnerability on Ren’s face as she stared at her cut straight to Dana’s heart and she had to force herself to keep still. “Because maybe you love us too?”

“That’s the right answer,” Dana said softly, and the answering smile on Ren’s face brought tears to her eyes. An instant later she was pinned to the floor as the two girls hurled themselves into her arms, embracing her with the most amazing hugs she’d ever received.

They remained in a tight huddle and Dana didn’t realize she’d dozed off until the squawk of a nearby radio intruded. She opened her eyes and saw Liz approach.

“Sorry to disturb you, but Gabe’s on his way in with Meg Waters and her slightly ahead of schedule newborn baby girl.”

Dana stared at Liz, not certain she had heard correctly. “She wasn’t due for another couple of weeks. Is everything okay?”

“So I’m told. According to Gabe, he and Kellen delivered a healthy baby on Meg’s kitchen floor about forty-five minutes ago.” Liz shrugged. “I’m guessing it wasn’t exactly the home birth Meg had planned, but Gabe said it was a textbook delivery and mom and baby are both doing well.”

“All things considered, that’s wonderful.” Dana gave a quick smile of relief and got to her feet. “Is Kellen coming in with them?”

“Um…no.”

“Liz? Is there a problem?”

Liz shrugged helplessly. “Meg’s kid sister Josie moved in with her recently and when Meg started to go into labor, in the middle of a storm with the power out, Josie went out to try to get help. Kellen’s out searching for her.”

Dana had met Josie on a couple of occasions. She pictured her now, a slightly built, shy fifteen-year-old, then glanced out the nearest window and confirmed for herself nothing had changed in the last half hour. The heavy snow falling showed no sign of abating and the winds were continuously swirling it around, making visibility almost nonexistent. She tried to imagine Josie walking through waist-deep snow, and shuddered.

“Don’t worry, Dana,” Cody said quietly. “If anyone can find her, it’ll be Kellen.”

Dana nodded and got to her feet, mentally already going through what they would need to care for a newborn. And trying not to dwell on Kellen, out in the unrelenting storm, looking for a lost fifteen-year-old.

*

Endless swirling drifts, snow-covered trees, and fallen branches. It all looked the same. Time trickled by and she was feeling increasingly numb from the cold, but she refused to allow the pain in her body to win.