Magnolia Storms

by Janet W. Ferguson

  The realization and truth in Aunt Ruth’s words struck hard, bringing the sting of tears. Her aunt was right. The Lord had shown up in big ways after the storm. He had been relentless showing His love in small ways, too. A policeman had found the Bible she’d received at her baptism, virtually intact, and returned it to her. A friend whose house had miraculously come out unscathed shared clothes with them. So many other memories of small miracles came to mind.

  God was here now with a bowl of soup from friends. He’d provided her with this sweet aunt who’d always been there for her. And He’d shown up in the prayers of a little boy.

  Now she just had to trust like those believers of old. Though He slay me... Could she ever have that much faith?

  Chapter 22

  DAHLIA’S TV SHOW FINISHED, and she left Josh alone in the living room. He closed the laptop where he’d been continuing his fruitless search for a nanny, and stood. He wouldn’t leave J.D. with just anyone. That’s why the arrangement with Cammie had been so perfect. Pacing now, he tried to squelch the urge to find out what Maggie was doing in the kitchen. She’d been in there a long time. He lingered near the archway and strained to hear the voices of her and Ruth, to no avail. The television still droned on, but cutting it off would be too obvious.

  “What are you doing?” Maggie’s voice nailed him as she plodded around the corner. “Eavesdropping?” Her fingers wrapped a mug of something steamy, and her eyes looked like wet glass, as if she’d been crying.

  He couldn’t cut and run. Being honest might buy some favor. “I tried to hear y’all, but the TV was too loud.” He gave her his best pouty look.

  Shaking her head of curls, a small smile lifted one side of her lips. “You.”

  “Yep. Me.” He grinned at her, relieved that he’d skirted a possible battle. “Can we sit and talk a while?”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “I mean, we’re going to be hunkered down for the night. I’ll stay up to monitor the weather. The outer bands are starting to come through, so it’ll be a long one.”

  Features softening, she gave a tiny nod. “You’re going to keep watch for us?”

  “Of course. You need rest to get well. My phone is charged, and I have all the weather sites saved. We have batteries for the radios and everything we need.”

  Relief seemed to flow over her. She sank down onto the couch and set her mug on the coffee table. “Thank you.”

  He took cautious steps to the other end and sat.

  “What did you want to talk about?” Her fingers massaged circles on her forehead and temples.

  His mind scrambled. What did he want to say? He’d simply wanted to be near her...to know what she was thinking, but that wouldn’t fly. “How are you holding up?”

  Her eyelids closed and slowly opened. “Only tired, mostly.”

  “You don’t have to sleep with J.D., you know. He’ll be fine on a pallet.”

  “It’s not him that keeps me awake. It’s my wretched nighttime cough. As soon as I lay down—”

  The howl of the wind outside curtailed her words. Her shoulders hunched forward, and she hugged herself as the whistle and moan of the gale continued. She was like a clam in a shell, quickly closing at the first sign of danger. Closing tight and wanting to shut the world out, him included.

  Josh’s midsection tensed. He’d heard gales much noisier, but seeing the fear oozing from her every pore broke his heart. If only he could hold her, but that wasn’t going to happen. “Can I...help somehow? Tell you a story, be quiet, something in between?”

  She sucked in a breath. “I’ll make it. Katrina was a lot worse.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Her gaze stared at a distant place he couldn’t see. A place he should’ve been.

  “It was so quiet beforehand. The birds and insects seemed to know more of what was coming than the meteorologists.” The tendons of her slender throat worked hard to swallow. “Then the wind screamed, and the booms began—one earth-shattering crash after another as trees fell and shook the hotel we were staying in. The carnage went on for hours, and we had no power, no phone, nothing.”

  “That had to be horrifying.”

  “It was, but opening the door when the storm finally ended was worse. I’d say the Coast looked like a war zone, but that would be an understatement. It was more like Armageddon—landmarks obliterated, no street signs left anywhere. We didn’t know where anything was, not that we could get far. The ground was piled with layers of peeled shingles, leaves, and debris. Trucks and trains lay mangled and out of place, propelled for miles by the tremendous storm surge. I can’t begin to make anyone understand who didn’t see it firsthand, and most of the coverage had shifted to New Orleans when their levee broke. We felt forgotten here.” She cradled her face in her palms.

  Josh scooted closer and placed a hand on her knee. She’d felt forgotten by the world and by him. “I’m sorry.” He’d say it a thousand times if he thought it would make her feel better.

  She didn’t move away or cringe at his touch. A good sign.

  “Finally, the drone of helicopters, chainsaws, and generators began. An endless parade of dump trucks hauled away the mangled remains of everyone’s lives. Search lights scanned for the injured. We were lucky our hotel didn’t crumble and the surge hadn’t reached us. Others lived in tents and cars, scavenging for food. Someone delivered MREs, and people were so thankful.”

  “You know it’s bad when those taste good.”

  She paused and stared at him. “Life was more than bad. It was surreal. Terrifying. We didn’t have any way to find out where anyone was...our friends and neighbors...we didn’t know who had left, who had stayed, or what happened to them for months. And my father. We couldn’t—”

  His phone rang, interrupting at the worst possible moment. He kept eye contact with her, ignoring the wretched sound. “I’m not answering.” He pressed the button to end the call.

  Her gaze fell. “You know the rest. He was never found.”

  The ringing began again. Shoot. Not now.

  “Go ahead and answer it.”

  Josh knew the ring belong to his boss. Sighing, he answered. “What’s up?”

  “Need our best pilot for a rescue.”

  Maggie stared at him as if everything between them hinged on this phone call. And maybe it did.

  Guilt weighed him down. Answering yes would kill any leeway he’d made with her, plus Maggie really needed him. Answering no left some poor souls in a dangerous situation.

  But he wasn’t the only pilot in the world. Someone else would have to step up. Maggie needed him, and he couldn’t let her down again.

  “Josh? You there?” His boss’s voice boomed through the connection.

  “You’ll have to get someone else.”

  “Not everyone has your skills.”

  “What kind of vessel?”

  “A small cargo ship.”

  That type of ship meant less passengers. “Sorry. I really can’t go out this time.”

  “Got it.” The call ended.

  Maggie stood and gave him a stare that scorched his soul. “This time. But next time there’s a terrible storm, you’ll go, right?”

  “Maggie...” He’d thought she’d be happy with his decision.

  “I’m going to lie down with your son and try to get some sleep.”

  As he watched her disappear into the darkness of the hallway, a cold weight pressed his chest. Maybe there was no way he could ever make Magnolia Marovich happy.

  OUTSIDE THE WINDS MOANED and whistled while rain pelted the old roof. Maggie’s heart raced in her chest and ears, rivaling the rattle of the constant thunder against the windows. She curled around the extra pillow on the queen bed and squeezed her eyes shut.

  She’d given up watching the weather over an hour ago. There was nothing to be done now but wait. The governor had declared a state of emergency and a mandatory curfew, siting the possibility of tornadoes and flash flooding. Of course, her cough
had finally stopped, but now she couldn’t sleep for the fear gnawing at her nerves. Getting up wasn’t an option. She wouldn’t leave J.D. alone for a second. Plus Josh was sitting up in the living room. At least he said he would be.

  Trusting him to watch out for them came harder than she’d thought it would. She couldn’t help but remember her father’s memorial. Sitting on that stiff bench beside her weeping mother, believing that Josh would find a way to come to them from New York. He was just late. Maybe a plane delay...car trouble.

  A fool’s dream.

  The phone call Josh had received during the storm had been another too painful reminder of the hazards of his profession.

  He’d made his choice years ago. Though he didn’t go out tonight, it was probably only to prove a point. There would come a time when he’d choose the water over her.

  A small, warm body rolled over and scooted close to Maggie’s side. The toasty snuggle from J.D. melted away some of the churning emotions. Somehow, the child soothed her like not much else could. She took a deep, cleansing breath.

  God, I may not trust a man, but I want to trust You to take care of us. I want to trust like this little child.

  “MISS MAGGIE?” FINGERS pulled open the lid of her left eye. “Are you awake?”

  J.D.’s adorable face stared at her from about two inches away.

  “I am now.” She couldn’t help but grin. “Good morning, pumpkin.”

  “Good morning. Are you making pancakes?”

  A laugh rumbled through her chest, forcing out a little cough. What time was it? She reached one arm toward the nightstand for her phone. “Ten o’clock? Good grief, we slept late.” She scanned the ceiling for water damage. “The house is still standing. That’s a good sign. Maybe I can make breakfast then.” Her head finally felt clear of the crud, and she breathed easy.

  If she had no fever, she could see Cammie today. And Josh could go back to his own house. It would be so much easier on all of them.

  “Where’s the house standing?” Wide-eyed, J.D. looked around.

  “Oh, the same place. Miss Maggie was being silly.” When was she going to learn to be careful what she said around children? She didn’t want to scar J.D. and Dahlia for life. “Let’s get our thermometers and see how we’re doing.” Josh had a special toddler gadget—a gift from his mother—so they hadn’t had to worry about cross-contamination.

  Sitting up straight, J.D. cocked his head over and tugged on his ear to open it wide.

  “You are good at that, but I don’t think you have to pull that hard.” Another chuckle slipped from her lips. “Just a second.” She opened the drawer to the nightstand, grabbed the thermometer, and covered the probe with a lens filter. “Here it comes.” Gently, she placed the device inside the canal and pressed the button. A chirp sounded, and she removed it to check the reading. “Normal. Yay.”

  “Now it’s your turn.”

  “Yep.” She traded for the cheap oral thermometer she’d found in Cammie’s bathroom and stuck it under her tongue. While she waited for the beep, those big blue eyes stared at her, melting more of her heart.

  The beep signaled her to remove the instrument. “No fever for me either, and I feel good.” Except for how her stomach ached after she took the awful antibiotic. They’d need more yogurt when they went back out. One could never have too much yogurt. That was her theory anyway. “Let’s go to the kitchen.”

  “Okay.” He slid down and waited for her.

  A strand of blond hair stuck up near the crown of his head, and she smoothed it down before taking a step into the hallway.

  Aunt Ruth met her in the hall. “There’s the sleepy-heads. Glad y’all got some sleep.”

  “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “Now, don’t apologize. We all need a Sabbath rest, and it doesn’t always happen on the weekend.”

  “True.” But resting with all they had going on seemed like too much of a luxury.

  “Josh made pancakes earlier and left some in the microwave for you.” Aunt Ruth motioned toward the kitchen.

  That had been a little bit sweet. J.D. was expecting shapes, though. “Is he in there?”

  “He and Dahlia are outside gathering limbs into a pile. I don’t know how he’s still going. He stayed up all night. I checked on him a few times, but he said he was fine.”

  “I’m fever-free now, so he can go back to his place and sleep.”

  Her aunt leveled a stare at her above her reading glasses. “What’s the rush?”

  “I’m just saying he can sleep in his own bed.” A cup of coffee would be nice before she continued this line of conversation. “J.D.’s hungry, so I’ll get him fed.” With that, she continued past her aunt and down the hall.

  In the kitchen, the aroma of good coffee delighted her nose. A pot steamed on the counter as if someone had just made a fresh one. She soaked in the blessed savory smell. If she were honest, she could get used to having someone getting coffee ready for her in the morning. But... “I’m going to pour a cup of coffee real quick.” Her fingers grasped a mug, and she filled it with the warm liquid. One sip, and she would take care of the boy’s plate.

  “Can I have some?” He smiled up at her.

  “Not until your twenty-one.”

  His cheeks dropped, taking her heart with them. How did parents say no to such cute faces?

  “It’s not good for growing boys, and I know you want to be big and strong. Let’s get the pancakes Daddy made and some milk.”

  “Will that make me strong like Daddy, so I can steer a boat?”

  “I think so.” And it crushed her to imagine that scenario.

  “Okay.” He ran to a chair where Josh had attached a booster seat and started climbing.

  That didn’t look safe. “Wait. I’ll help.”

  “I can do it myself.” He kept scrambling.

  Tendrils of anxiety tightened around Maggie’s chest. “I don’t want you to fall.” Maybe if she spotted him. She placed her hands behind him without touching. “Does your father help you?”

  “I do it myself.”

  Finally, he reached the seat, and she grabbed the straps. “Let me buckle this.”

  “I can do it—”

  “Yourself. I know. But I’m doing it so I can hurry to get your pancakes. Yum. Yum.” She pushed the lock together. “Phew.” Coffee would have to wait until she got him settled.

  She wiped perspiration from her forehead. At the microwave, she pulled the handle. What met her there took her breath away as though she were flailing on rough surf.

  All the pancakes were in the shape of hearts.

  PERSPIRATION CLUNG to Josh’s brow despite the fact that the temperature had dropped significantly after the storm and most of his body was soaking wet from the continued showers. He wiped his feet before heading inside to clean up. The dozens of limbs and hundreds of sticks had been piled high near the end of the drive and away from the drainage ditches. Keeping the culverts cleared of debris was critical to keeping the yards free from flooding, though, so he’d done the best he could, worked until he’d run out of daylight. Dahlia had been sweet to come out in her galoshes to help.

  Maggie, on the other hand, had avoided him all day, despite the fact that she’d declared both herself and J.D. fever free. Not that he wanted her to come out in the wet weather, but whenever he’d come in for lunch or a snack, she’d completely ignored him. She and J.D. sat on the floor of his son’s bedroom.

  “I’m back inside, going to take a shower,” he called from the hall.

  “I texted the doctor,” Maggie answered, her back to him. “He said I can visit tonight, so I’m going home to change.” She gave J.D. a hug and marched to the door of the bedroom. “Bye, pumpkin.”

  “Is the curfew lifted?” His brows knit together. It still seemed too soon for her to be out.

  “They still say no nonessential travel, but this is essential.”

  “What about the flash flooding?”

  “I know the roads, and I chec
ked with the highway department.”

  Her mind was set. Nothing would keep Maggie away from her sister any longer. “Tell her I said hi, and I’m praying for her.”

  No response, no eye contact.

  She practically clung to the other side of the wall when she skirted past him. Probably because of the stupid breakfast he’d made.

  The pancake idea had become another blundering debacle on his part. Obviously, J.D. had eaten his fill, but he doubted Maggie had eaten a bite. A slew of pancakes had still stood stacked on the plate covered by foil next to the sink at Ruth’s when he’d made lunch for Dahlia. He’d started to throw the stupid things in the trash, but being a single parent, prudence stopped him. Instead, he found a plastic storage bag and salvaged them. They saved pretty well in the refrigerator.

  He had no inkling of what to do about him and Maggie.

  After his shower, he baked a frozen pizza. He’d left the gumbo and soup leftovers next door, so this would have to do. He fed J.D. and bathed him, then wrapped him in a towel and marched down the hall. When he set J.D. on his feet, he tousled his son’s hair. “Let’s get your PJs on, buddy.”

  “Is Miss Maggie going to read me a story?”

  “Daddy’s reading tonight.” Josh opened the drawer and fished out the latest favorite pajamas.

  Faced scrunched, J.D.’s lip poked out. “I want Maggie to read.”

  Josh’s stomach took a plunge.

  Poking his lips out, Josh pretended to cry and rubbed his eyes. “You hurt my feelings.” Then he lifted his head and grinned. This tactic worked on occasion, though he tried not to use it often. Tonight he was a bit desperate. “I’ve missed my sailor.”

  A smile returned to lift J.D.’s cheeks. “Okay. You read, Daddy.”

  Josh dressed him and read until J.D. fell asleep, relishing every moment. Too soon it would be time to go out on the boat, and they’d lost a few nights of their precious time together. The thought reminded him he needed to make a plan. He stalked to the living room to grab his computer and return to his bedroom. He had to know within a week who would care for his son.