Even with the lightning crackling across the sky overhead, no one moved for a second. Hail pinged on the shingled roof. A whoosh of blustery wind knocked Leesa back against the buggy. Henry grabbed her arm and righted her. She tugged free. Relief mixed with a dose of anger sent heat like her own brand of lightning through Leesa. She dodged Henry and marched into the northern wind toward the deputy.
“Is he all right?”
“It’s hard to tell.” Tim wiped at his face with a ragged towel as sodden as he was. “Not much of a talker. I stopped at Noah’s, and he told me to look for Henry here.”
Leesa zipped around the SUV and manhandled the door. Looking like a drowned puppy, Tommy was huddled on the seat under a blue flannel blanket. Tim had left his vehicle running and the heat on high. The truck smelled of wet little boy. Leesa fought the urge to climb in beside Tommy. “Are you all right?”
He hunched his shoulders and nodded.
“Come on, let’s get you inside. I reckon some of Seth’s old hand-me-downs will fit you.”
His face crumbled. “You still want me?”
Leesa took his icy, wet hand. “Nothing you can do will make us not want you.”
Head down, he slid from the seat into the cold wind and rain. Leesa threw her arm around him to shelter him from the storm. If only it was that easy to shelter him from life’s storms. Henry came up on the other side, and together they scrambled toward the house.
“Tim, come inside and get dry before you start back,” Leesa shouted over another long roll of thunder that sounded like a train picking up speed. “The coffee’s hot.”
Inside, a flurry of activity followed. They hung coats by the fireplace to dry. Mother brought towels and blankets to them. Father stoked the fire. Mercy handed out mugs of steaming hot coffee to the adults and hot chocolate for Tommy, who’d changed into Seth’s old pants and shirt.
In that time Tommy offered no explanation. He burrowed under a quilt in the rocking chair closest to the fireplace and sipped his hot chocolate. Henry stood close by, ostensibly warming his hands, but his expression said he feared Tommy would bolt and disappear again.
Leesa’s family melted away, claiming chores upstairs or in the kitchen. No doubt Mercy and Mother were straining to hear as they tossed vegetables in a pot of elk stew. The sweet perfume of cinnamon rolls scented the air, mixing with the comforting smell of burning wood.
Leesa turned to Tim, who had settled his tall, meaty frame on the sofa. His lips were blue and his teeth chattered. Leesa scooped up a blanket from the pile Mother had provided. “Take this. Can I get you more coffee?”
“I’m good. I can’t stay long. I told Juliette I would come for dinner as soon as my shift’s over.”
“Where did you find him?”
Tommy burrowed deeper into the quilt. His blue eyes were barely visible. Doodles, the family dog, propped his grizzled snout on the boy’s lap. Tommy’s hand slipped from under the cover and patted him.
“We got a call from the postmaster—”
“In Rexford?” Henry turned his back to the fire. If he stood any closer to it, the seat of his pants would catch fire.
“Yep. That’s the one. He said he picked up a boy who had hitchhiked across the bridge and was asking for a ride to Libby. Apparently Tommy here claimed his car had broken down, his cell phone was dead, and he needed a ride into town to get help. Needless to say, the postmaster saw right through that story.”
Tommy settled his mug of hot chocolate on the end table and sank farther into his chair.
“He offered to take a look at the car, but Tommy came up with some more fairy tale. Rather than argue with the boy, he drove into Libby and called the department. I met them at the train station, which it seems was Tommy’s actual destination.”
“You were going back to Kentucky?” Leesa tried to make eye contact with Tommy. He was having none of that. “With what? How would you pay for a ticket?”
He pulled his hand from the covers and displayed a wad of wet, wrinkled bills.
“My grocery money.” Henry scooped the money from the boy’s hand. “You stole from me?”
Leesa shot him a frown. Not now. She knelt in front of the rocking chair and tucked the quilt tighter around Tommy’s body. “Are you warm enough?”
His chin quivered. He nodded.
“I’d better get going.” Tim settled his coffee mug on the end table and stood. “No laws have been broken, and this seems like a family matter.”
“You’re sure you can’t stay for supper?”
Tim raised his head and sniffed like a wolf on the hunt. “It smells great, but Juliette will have my hide if I’m late for her mother’s Sunday pot roast.”
Leesa saw him out. Neither Tommy nor Henry had moved when she returned to take Tim’s spot on the sofa. A standoff? She studied the two faces, both morose. She decided to start with Tommy. “Why go to Kentucky? Kootenai is your home now. You have family here.”
“I don’t—”
“Maybe not by blood, but we are your family because we care for you. Right, Henry?”
Henry edged closer to Tommy. He cleared his throat. “Teacher is right. Just because I get mad at you doesn’t mean I’ll stay mad. I discipline you because I care about what happens to you. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t bother.”
“You were really mad this morning.”
A complete sentence with no sarcasm or disrespect. They were making progress. Henry squatted next to the rocking chair. He rubbed his fingers on its smooth varnished arm. “What you did was disrespectful. I want only gut for you, Tommy, and not only now, but for eternity.”
“I’m sorry,” Tommy whispered. “I’m just mad. All the time.”
Henry patted his knee. “Believe me, I know the feeling.”
“Me too,” Leesa admitted. Not as much as in those days after the wildfire, but often enough. “All the time.”
“Really? Grown-ups feel this way? You get mad at Gott?”
“Jah.” Henry glanced at Leesa and then away. “After my fraa and our unborn bopli were killed, I was angry all the time. I wanted to die. I didn’t bother to get out of bed for a long stretch. I blamed Gott for everything bad. I forgot all the gut He had done.”
A knot swelled in Leesa’s throat. His loss was so much greater than her own. A wife and a baby he never had a chance to meet or hold. She swallowed hard. He wanted to reach Tommy so badly he was willing to lay bare his agony in front of her. She studied her hands in her lap, giving him space to do it.
“How did you get over it?” Tommy petted Doodles, but his gaze was fixed on Henry.
“I didn’t. A person doesn’t get over something like that.” Henry settled back on his haunches. His features had softened with his tone, and lines disappeared from his face. He was lost in memories. “You do learn to go on. We like to say that we’re just passing through this world and Gott knew the number of days our loved one would be here. Both are true. But it still hurts. I had friends who helped me. The bishop helped me understand Gott doesn’t make bad things happen. He allows them so we can become better people who can help others in their time of need. Like I’m helping you now. That’s what Christians do. That’s what your Gmay does.”
A long speech for a person of few words. Here was a man who cared so deeply for a little boy, he would do anything to ease his pain.
Tommy’s forehead furled. His expression grew pensive. “Even after your fraa and your bopli died, you believed?”
“I always believed. Gott never said life would be easy. He said it would be hard, but He already overcame the world. He is always with us.”
“It doesn’t feel that way.”
“It will, one day.”
Tommy sighed. “Okay.”
“Okay. That doesn’t mean there won’t be repercussions for running away, stealing the grocery money, and hitchhiking.” Henry took a breath. “When I think of you hitchhiking, I just—”
“I know. It was stupid. I’m sorry.”
A perfect, perfect apology. “Maybe not too many repercussions,” Leesa offered. “He did say he was sorry.”
Henry growled. “Of course a child has to learn that actions have consequences.” He scrubbed at his face with both hands. “That’s what I’ve been told.”
“Noah?”
With a slight shake of his head, he stood. “We’ll talk more about that later.” He held out his hand to Tommy. “We should get home. You have schul tomorrow, and so does your teacher.”
“Nee, nee.” Leesa hopped up. “Mudder makes enough stew for two dozen people. It’ll warm you both up. Plus, Mercy’s cinnamon rolls melt in your mouth. And it’s still raining. You’ll get drenched again and catch a cold or worse.”
Seth, Job, and Levi stomped to the top of the stairs and peered down over the balcony. “Does that mean we can come downstairs now?” Seth, always the ringleader, called out. “We want to play Life on the Farm. Tommy can play too.”
“I guess that means we’re staying.” Henry backed away to let the stampede of boys through. He landed on the sofa next to her. His face suddenly crimson, he scooted down. “It’ll be gut for Tommy to spend time with your bruders.”
“What did Noah say that causes you such concern?”
“He wants Tommy to move in with the Planks.” Henry’s expression turned somber. “Mind you he hasn’t even spoken to them yet, but he says they’ll give him the firm hand he needs.”
“Nee, he needs stability. He needs you.” She put her hand to her lips to stymie the flood of words. When they subsided, she let it drop. “It will only make things worse.”
“I told him as much. I can only hope we”—his gaze collided with hers—“I can make progress with Tommy that will make Noah change his mind.”
“You were right the first time. We can help Tommy.” She must be light-headed from all the excitement. His dark-jasper eyes staring into hers made it hard for her to think. He wanted her help. He wanted to do this together. “Together we’ll help Tommy . . . and each other.”
Henry leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared into the fire. The flames leapt. The wood crackled and popped. Still its heat was nothing compared to what burned through Leesa as she awaited his next words.
His gaze shifted to her face. “I hear there’s been some talk.”
“Some talk? About what?”
“About us.” He smiled, something he didn’t do nearly often enough. It transformed his plain face. Even white teeth, full lips, and dimpled cheeks gave him his youth back. “According to your schweschder, everyone thinks it’s—we’re—a gut idea.”
“They do, do they?” She floundered, hunting for words suddenly lost in a dense thicket of unfamiliar emotions. Trepidation, uncertainty, anticipation, hope. “What do you think?”
“I think I feel like I’m waking up from a long, deep sleep to find that life has been passing me by.” His voice dropped to a low, deep whisper for her ears only. The boys, busy setting up their game, took no heed of his words. “I don’t want that to happen anymore.”
“The last year’s been a hard one for me.” Leesa waited for the familiar sting of disappointment and despair. It didn’t come. Only a sense of optimism she hadn’t felt in a long time. With it came the certainty that there was no need to rush. Small steps were fine. Even better than a mad, headlong rush. “I’m sure you know all about what happened to me. It felt mean and ugly. I feel like I did something wrong. That it was my fault.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Nee, it wasn’t. But what I want to say is I might be a little skittish.”
“You and me both.” His hand crept across the sofa’s dark-navy material, stopping midway between them. “Maybe we could start with a buggy ride.”
Leesa eyed Tommy. He had wrapped the blanket around his neck like a shawl. He was busy counting his livestock and money.
“I might have to come to you.”
“That would be nice.” Henry glanced at Tommy. “We could sit on the porch after he goes to bed.”
Leesa slid her hand toward his. Their fingertips touched.
The cold seeped away. All of it, not just that brought on by the day’s rain and wind.