| |
How long until Drew returned?
Grace looked up from her list of names and stared down the hall.
Six snow-covered groups had already checked in with her, discarded a pile of soggy blankets and wet trashbags inside the Great Hall, then eagerly followed her directions down the stairs to the dining room.
Apparently they’d been lured with the promise of bacon and hot coffee.
She stifled a smile as one child bemoaned the lack of any polar bear sightings along the way. Seemed someone had tried to make the treacherous walk a bit more interesting.
At the far end of the gallery, she spotted an older couple wearily dragging a large piece of equipment behind them.
Finally. The couple Drew had specifically gone to help. “You must be Owen.”
“And Edith.” The man smiled down at his wife, his free arm protectively around her waist.
The picture of everything she’d ever hoped for in a doting husband.
And her foolish romantic heart could only imagine one person in that role.
“Is Drew with you?”
“He was. And said to tell you we’re the last ones from Big Horn.”
“Okay.” She made a note of their arrival on her list. “But where...”
“He left us at the top of the stairs and then headed back out to help the folks at the Pink House.”
Right. Where the rest of the guests were gathering because of her phone calls.
It was her fault he was still out there in the storm.
Then again, he wasn’t the sort to warm himself by a fire knowing others were in danger.
Which meant that while he worked to bring them in, it was up to her to get them settled.
Starting with Edith and her oxygen generator.
In a matter of minutes, she had the woman seated in a warm corner of the room and tucked under a dry blanket, far enough away from the fireplace that the tubing running from her now-plugged-in oxygen machine wouldn’t cause problems of the flammable kind.
Owen set his wife’s wet tennis shoes near the fire to dry, then left for the dining room with the promise to return soon with food for both of them.
Grace wrinkled her nose at the thought that more pairs of shoes might join the line soon. But wet socks had a better chance of drying without being confined, no matter the potential impact on the air quality.
But thoughts of wet fabric had her moving to drape the damp blankets across chairbacks clustered close around the fireplace. Running the dryers would probably be too much of a strain on the castle’s generators, but given time, they’d soon have dry blankets again.
Possibly before the current group finished breakfast, but hopefully before the next influx of guests arrived.
With the blankets drying, Grace moved on to the already organized drink station. But the attempt at busywork did nothing to keep her mind from drifting to her employment dilemma.
She had already applied to work at the summer camp. Assuming she got that position, she just needed to find something to fill the six- or eight-week gap before it began. And if she rejected the fall’s teaching job like she wanted to, spending those weeks in Castle Rock could be really awkward.
Was there anything she could do here? Perhaps it was worth a talk with the volunteer coordinator to see if they needed help in a different area. Except she’d have to move into the dorm because the RV’s owner needed his trailer back.
Why hadn’t she done that earlier? Right. Her scars and the scrutiny. And yet she hadn’t thought twice about them lately especially with the kind people she worked with here at the castle.
Tendrils of peace wrapped around her heart as she made plans.
She’d pursue more volunteering followed by the summer camp. Hopefully. Return the RV. Pack up her belongings in Castle Rock and move them into storage down here.
That would give her until the end of the summer to save for an apartment and find a long-term job on her terms. A job that fed her passions.
A job that did not involve teaching geography, that much was certain.
She could eventually get over any curious looks, stares, or taunting...maybe...but day after day spent imparting a boring subject to equally uninterested students would drive her to tears.
American history or perhaps world history would make a teaching position palatable... No, definitely American history if she had to pick. Did that make her a snob? Maybe. But this was her future and she was going after what she wanted for a change.
She’d rather slink back to Castle Rock in shame than endure a job she already dreaded.
With that decision clear, she moved toward the windows again for better cell service, then before she lost courage, called Mesa Ridge High School and left a voice mail message for the principal.
After disconnecting, a huge weight lifted from her shoulders and a smile grew.
She still had to face Uncle John’s wrath, but he had overstepped first. It was her life to live and he would just have to deal with it.
Grace shoved her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and returned to the fireplace to rotate the blankets.
The high-pitched voices of children caught her attention and she turned to see two youngsters run into the room ahead of the adults. She recognized them as part of Mary’s family.
Arguing about who had been the coldest, they darted toward her with a squeal of delight about the blanket fort she’d accidentally built just feet from the fireplace.
In almost slow-motion she saw the smaller boy trip over his loose shoelaces...falling into his sister, the impact catapulting her forward toward the blazing fire. Without thought, Grace dove across her path wrapping her right arm around the girl’s body before momentum carried them both into the carved marble structure.
Grace’s left side took the brunt of the jolting impact and she narrowly missed hitting her head on the sharp corner before their entwined bodies slid down to a heap on the floor.
Somewhere someone was yelling. A child cried. The girl in her arms wriggled.
But Grace was only aware of the pain.
Stabbing pain around her weakened right shoulder from grabbing the girl.
A throbbing ache in her left ribs.
And scorching heat at her back.
The fire!
She had to get away.
But before she could scoot or roll out of the way, the girl launched herself forward, simultaneously pushing Grace backward. Instinctively, she put out a hand to brace herself.
A hand that landed too close to the flames, singing her skin.
A scream burst from her lips as vivid memories of the past overwhelmed her senses.
Flames. Burns. Pain.
Hands on her ankles yanked her across the floor toward blessed coolness.
Thank God for small miracles.
“Are you all right?”
“You saved her.”
“Where is she hurt?”
The voices pulled Grace back to the present as she stared up at the concerned circle of faces hovering over her.
She blinked several times, then sucked in a deep breath. She was alive.
And lying on her back on the floor of the Great Hall.
“Let’s get you up and take a look at your hand.” The Southern twang did nothing to diminish Mary’s no-nonsense tone as she took charge of the situation.
A few very painful moments later—thanks to her weakened right shoulder, bruised ribs, and injured hand—Grace was seated in a chair staring at the reddening patches on her skin.
And asking for a bowl of cold water to soak her hand in.
Yes, she was burned again. But it appeared to be mostly first-degree damage thanks to the quick thinking of the children’s father who’d pulled her out of harm’s way.
God had been watching over them all.
Already the children seemed to have shaken off the close call as their mother set them up with a puzzle on the other side of the room. Another woman—an aunt?—volunteered to take over the check-in process when the next guests arrived.
Then the water arrived, and Grace breathed out a sigh of relief as she submerged her hand and settled in to wait the required twenty minutes.
At which point she might ask for some painkillers for her shoulder.
And the bruises already forming on her side.
###
WITH LIPS STIFF FROM the cold, Drew welcomed the stragglers from the Pink House caravan into the castle, then nodded to the man who’d volunteered to bring up the rear while Drew led the way. “Thanks for your help. When you check in, let them know you’re the last one.”
“What about you?” The man blew on his fingers as if trying to warm them.
“I’ll be there soon.” At least he had dry clothes to change into, unlike many of those he’d guided through the blizzard.
Drew trailed the others down the hall, then veered right toward his room.
He was tempted to indulge in a hot shower, but was equally eager to get to the Great Hall. So, after peeling out of his wet clothing and draping it over the shower rod to drip dry, he donned the remaining garments and hustled back toward the shelter.
Toward Grace.
At the entry to the large room, he paused to observe the organized chaos. Blankets were draped across chairs, assorted backpacks and bags of belongings dotted the perimeter, and clusters of people gathered around the tables.
Although most were probably downstairs in the dining room enjoying a late breakfast.
Which was where he’d be next...after warming his hands by the roaring fire.
And then he saw her.
A pale-faced Grace sat near the fireplace with a bowl in her lap. As he watched, she lifted her hand, frowned, then put it back in the bowl.
She was hurt?
And he hadn’t been there to help.
Drew rushed across the room. He should have checked on her—and the fire—before going back out for the Pink House group. They could have waited another few minutes.
Grace looked up and a wide smile curved her lips despite the tension around her eyes. “You’re back!” But then she must have registered his expression, because her smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re hurt, that’s what. I’m so sorry.” He dropped to his knees beside her chair, eyes scanning her for injuries. “I should have been here. Or maybe if I’d gotten here sooner instead of changing—”
“Stop.” She rested her free hand on his shoulder.
“But I could have saved you—”
“Only Jesus can truly save. We just do the best we can...and it seems you did plenty already today bringing all these people to safety.”
True. But none of them mattered as much to him as Grace did. When had she become so special?
“This was an accident and there was nothing you could have done about it.”
He’d be the judge of that. “What happened?”
A well-dressed woman he didn’t recognize from either of the lodge evacuations pulled a chair over and sat. “She saved my granddaughter is what happened.”
A blush colored Grace’s cheeks.
“Saved?” He raised an eyebrow, then his smile grew as the effusive woman told the story...and Grace squirmed.
“Seems she has a habit of rescuing young girls.” He winked Grace’s direction.
The storyteller latched onto that nugget. “Oh, do tell.”
This time as Grace relayed their past, he was the embarrassed party desperate for a reason to end the conversation. He glanced at the bowl of water cooling Grace’s burned hand. Got it. He stood.
Grace’s voice trailed off and she looked up in confusion.
“I’m starving.”
Her eyes widened.
“And figured I could grab a bite to eat, then see about hooking you up with some bandages or painkillers or both. I’ve got a first aid kit in my room.”
“Of course you do.” She laughed. “Repeat after me. I hereby resign as Ruler of the Universe.”
He did, then tugged on her ponytail with a grin. “Yes, but I can still help.”
“Go be heroic again, young man.” The storytelling woman patted Grace’s knee. “I’ll just stay here with your girlfriend.”
Girlfriend. Yes, that definitely had a nice ring to it.
He saluted them both, then turned for the door.
Over a quick meal, he acknowledged that part of him still wanted to be the hero.
The hero to guests like Owen and Edith.
A hero to Timmy when he broke his leg two weeks ago.
A hero to Steve who wrestled with his PTSD.
Except, not all heroes wore uniforms and he was finally okay with that truth.
As long as Grace still viewed him that way. At least some of the time.
Drew took a few packets of honey from the condiment rack in the dining room, then detoured to his room for his kit. A layer of honey over Grace’s burn would serve as an antibiotic and anti-inflammatory agent.
After wrapping her hand in gauze and handing her a few painkillers to swallow, he assessed the extent of her other injuries. Especially the weak shoulder she’d tweaked and could barely raise without pain.
She might say it would be fine after some rest, but he was definitely going to keep an eye on her. And with little else to do today other than to play games at the tables or get to know the other guests, he had no reason to leave her side.
Later, as they sipped on cups of hot chocolate he’d brought over, Grace stared at the fire. “For a moment there, I was back in the past. But once again, God helped and brought someone to rescue me.”
Someone who wasn’t him.
But that wasn’t the point, was it?
It wasn’t about who took the credit. But about receiving God’s saving grace.
Something he’d learned from this remarkable woman.
###
AS GRACE TIDIED THE after-dinner drinks station area, she decided that General Palmer and Queen would be proud to see their home used as a shelter in the storm.
Especially with the sense of community that had been growing all day.
As the snow had continued to fall outside, the Great Hall had become a place where stories were shared. Children entertained. Games played. Songs sung.
And new friendships were forged as strangers helped each other.
Across the room, she spotted Drew in conversation with Owen and shook her head.
Drew might wish to be a hero, but he already was.
He couldn’t help it.
Because he was the sort of man who would carry an oxygen generator on his back through a blizzard...then give up his room for the night to that same couple, opting instead to stretch out with a blanket on the floor here in the Hall while others claimed the canvas cots.
She’d been tempted to offer him the couch in the host’s apartment but knew that appearances and boundaries were critical. So, she’d in turn claimed that couch and offered the bedroom to some of Mary’s family.
Including the precious—albeit energetic—duo who had made her a thank you card earlier.
Leaving the restocked packets of hot chocolate and tea bags behind, she wandered to the dwindling stack of blankets, then eyed the scattered areas various couples, families, and had claimed as makeshift sleeping quarters for the night.
There should be enough blankets left for the stragglers, but perhaps she should check with John again to confirm all the castle’s inventory was on hand in case the room’s temperature dropped overnight. And the small collection of battery-powered lanterns would take the place of flashlights once they declared lights out.
Grace wandered closer to the windows and gazed out into the dark.
While the snow had finally stopped falling, the forecast called for frigid temperatures well into tomorrow. And the castle might not get power restored—or roads cleared—until Monday.
In her pocket, her phone vibrated with an incoming text.
This time it was from Cherry. Wanted to make sure you’re safe and warm in the storm. And to tell you Dad is stomping around the house and ranting about impulsive choices. What did you do?
Grace sighed. The principal must have listened to her message...and called Uncle John? As if she needed the additional confirmation of how twisted that working relationship could have become if she’d accepted.
Her fingers tapped out a reply. I’m safe at the castle. And if you’re brave enough, tell him it’s my life and my decision, even if I fall on my face.
She waited for the message to send, knowing God would be there to help her no matter what.
Cherry’s reply came an instant later: You’re braver than me.
Grace smiled. Tell him I’ll call tomorrow to explain.
“Checking in with your family?”
She turned from the window to find Mary there with a glamorous sweater draped over her shoulders. “I was.” Grace pocketed her phone. “Is your family settled for the night?”
“They are, but I’m actually here to talk about you.”
“Me?” Grace fought the urge to hide her bandaged hand behind her back.
“Yes, you. Specifically, your job.”
She frowned. How did the woman know about the Mesa Ridge job offer? Or was she—?
“I’d like to hire you.”
“Hire me?” Grace blinked in confusion. “To do what?”
Mary gestured to a pair of nearby chairs, then once they were seated proceeded to lay out the makings of a dream.
Six weeks as a paid research assistant with housing provided courtesy of a garage apartment on Mary’s friend’s property in town. Additional virtual assistant duties to handle the woman’s marketing plus a few other connections that could be cobbled together to create a full-time income later. Plus mentorship as a writer.
History, research, and fiction.
Her passions with a flexible work schedule.
Almost like God had answered every secret longing of her heart.
Stunned at the generosity, Grace quickly agreed and as they swapped contact information, she couldn’t stop smiling.
“What did I miss? Because you look like a kid on Christmas.” Drew stood beside her chair holding a blanket and glancing between her and Mary with a bemused expression.
“I feel like it.”
Mary chuckled. “I’m the one getting the better end of this deal, but we can talk more about it tomorrow.” She winked, then stood. “For now, I suspect your fella wants some alone time.”
Grace blushed, then giggled. “In the middle of a crowded room?”
“I remember how it was to be in love.” The woman waggled her eyebrows, waved Drew into her empty chair, then left.
Her face heated even further. Love? Yes, she suspected her feelings were firmly in that camp...but she’d hate for Drew to feel pressured. To assume she’d told Mary—
“That woman is a handful.” Drew’s chuckle eased her fears.
“Remember how I told you about the tour guest with all the questions?”
His eyes widened. “That’s her?” He swiveled to look over his shoulder at the woman, then turned back to face Grace. “It makes more sense now.”
“And now she’s my boss.” Grace shook her head. It was still hard to believe.
“Do tell.” Drew shifted his chair until the two of them were side by side facing the windows, then tucked the blanket over their laps. As if they were in their own world.
Grace snuggled against his side and proceeded to tell him all about Mary’s unexpected offer. How knowing Drew had given her the courage to make her own choices. How just that morning she’d turned down a real job offer because teaching wasn’t her dream. How she was about to write her own story—literally—eventually. At least once she’d soaked in all she could from the author.
Drew’s arm had circled her shoulders as she told how she’d get to stay in Colorado Springs after all until his discharge. How anything she did after that could be handled from anywhere with an Internet connection.
After which he’d shared about his conversation with Owen regarding teaching outdoor skills to the campers. How after his discharge, they might both get to work at the camp for the entire summer with their evenings and weekends free to spend together before he started EMT school in the fall.
Grace sighed with satisfaction.
She’d have to see where God took her life, but for now there wasn’t a rush to decide anything and could just enjoy her time with Drew.
Because they’d been given the gift of time. Time to get to know each other more, plus the flexibility to pursue their dreams and gain skills.
On a quiet night like this, she’d normally be tempted to read a book...but her real life was definitely more exciting than any other story.
Especially curled up in a blanket beside Drew watching the lights glint off the snow outside. While in a castle.
Which made her think of princes and princesses...and the children of the King.
God had been so good to her—them—with His gift of grace and second chances.
Drew pressed a quick kiss on her temple, then glanced around the room and lowered his voice. “God holds our future but like I said before, I would like to see where this leads. I know it’s fast but I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
She turned her head to gaze into those delicious caramel eyes. “Hopefully there’s less drama ahead than during our first meeting...and this current adventure.”
A grin curved his lips. “Hopefully. But wherever life takes us, I know God will be there every step of the way.”
“I can’t wait to see what He has in store.”
“Me too.” And then Drew’s lips covered hers and their surroundings faded.
It turned out Mary was right.
They really could get alone time in a crowded room after all.