Harlequin Love Inspired March 2021--Box Set 1 of 2
Page 39
Eyeing Mick’s headlights in her rearview mirror, she couldn’t help thinking about Sadie’s reaction to Mick leaving. Christa understood just how she was feeling. For months after her mother’s death, Christa wouldn’t let her dad out of her sight, except when she went to school. Looking back, she supposed there was something comforting about being with her friends in a place that was familiar.
But poor Sadie didn’t have that. Everything was new for her. Home, school, friends.
Christa fixed her gaze on the road ahead. Sadie’s circumstances had stirred more than Christa’s compassion, though. They reminded her how alone she was. Christa had lost everyone she’d ever loved. Her mom, her dad… Brody.
Sadie wasn’t the only one who was insecure.
Five miles outside of Bliss city limits, she turned from the two-lane county road onto the narrow road that led to her house and promptly hit a patch of ice. Heart pounding, she took her foot off the gas pedal, let go of the steering wheel and shot up another prayer for safety. Her back end shifted slightly, but thanks to the heavy bags of sand Mick had insisted she put in the back of her SUV, she avoided fishtailing.
The next two miles seemed to take forever. A thin layer of snow already coated the less-traveled road. The freezing rain falling now only added insult to injury. Finally, she pulled into her drive and continued under the carport, grateful to have made it safely.
Moments later, Mick’s truck eased beside her. Christa exited her SUV, hastily closed the door, then moved to Mick’s vehicle to get Sadie.
Reaching for the rear passenger door, she hoped the little girl hadn’t changed her mind. Just in case, Christa glanced toward the dining room window that faced the drive and saw Dixie in her usual spot. Good girl. And just the ammunition she needed.
She opened the door, pointing toward the house. “Look over there, Sadie. Dixie’s waiting for us.”
Spotting the dog, her green eyes went wide. “We need to go save her.” She unbuckled her seat belt.
“Yes, we do.” Christa helped her out of the truck, then looked at Mick.
“I shouldn’t be more than an hour,” he said.
“Be safe. Dinner will be ready shortly after you get back.”
He touched two fingers to the brim of his hat. “I like the sound of that, little lady.”
One eyebrow shot up as she closed the door. Little lady? Ha! If her time with Brody Hathaway had taught her anything, it was that she’d never be anyone’s little lady. He’d trounced all over her heart and squashed her dreams of a family.
Holding tightly to Sadie’s hand, she moved cautiously toward the back porch. As they neared the steps, a gust of wind threatened to knock them over. “Whoa. Hold on, Sadie.” They both reached for the railing. “Be extra careful, okay? These steps might be icy.”
Sadie moved slowly until they were both safely on the covered porch.
Another blast of wind had the icy rain pelting Christa’s cheeks as she fished her keys out of her pocket. When she unlocked the door, a happy Dixie was in the mudroom, waiting to greet them.
“Dixie!” Sadie reached for Dixie’s golden mane, but the dog took off into the kitchen, barking, running back and forth through the house, sending area rugs sliding and inadvertently rearranging the wooden chairs around the kitchen table. The child giggled as she watched the crazy dog.
“Hold up there, Dix.” Christa opened the door as the dog headed their way again. “You need to go outside.”
In a flash, the active pup whisked past them and nearly lost her footing when she bounded down the slippery steps.
Moments later, Dixie raced back up the steps with no more grace than she’d descended.
“Uh-oh. Sadie, you need to mo—” Before Christa could get the words out, Dixie plowed into Sadie, knocking her down.
“Dixie!” Christa tossed the door closed and dropped to her knees. “Shame on you.” She shoved the dog out of the way. “Sadie? Honey, are you all right?”
The child rolled onto her back, snickers continuing to bubble out. Thankfully, she was still bundled in her coat. All that padding probably protected her.
Christa pulled Sadie to her feet and urged her into the kitchen before shoving her hood back to reveal flyaway golden-brown hair and pink cheeks. “Please tell me you’re not hurt.”
“No.” Breathy titters still came from the child as she looked up at her. “That was fun.”
Unzipping her own coat, Christa said, “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She, on the other hand, was worn out.
Sadie clumsily removed her coat, shoving her hair out of her face. “What are we going to do now?”
Christa reached around the corner to hang their coats on hooks in the mudroom. “First, we’re going to wash all the dog slobber off your face, then I have to start fixing dinner. You can either help me or you can play with Dixie—please don’t let her lick you—or you can tell me what you’d like to do.”
Once Sadie was cleaned up, she opted to play ball with the dog while Christa set to work on the chicken soup she’d been contemplating for two days. Once the meat and veggies were on to simmer, she turned to find Dixie lying on her back next to the kitchen table while Sadie happily rubbed her belly.
“Dixie loves belly rubs.”
“That’s why she’s smiling.”
Cocking her head, Christa peered down at the goofy dog. “Yep, she sure is.” She turned her attention back to Sadie. “I have some dough in the refrigerator. Would you like to help me make cookies?”
“Oh, yes, please.” She bolted to her feet. “I love making cookies. Not as much as I like eating them, though.”
“Well, then we may be cut from the same cloth.”
Sadie cocked her head. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’re alike.”
Christa retrieved the tube of chocolate chip cookie dough.
“Those are the same kind of cookies I used to make with my mommy.”
Christa’s steps slowed. Had she just turned what could have been a happy moment into one filled with sorrow? Then she recalled making cookies with her own mother.
Grabbing the step stool from beside the fridge, she placed it in front of the counter to the right of the stove. “You can stand on this.” While Sadie complied, Christa retrieved cookie sheets from the cupboard. “I used to make cookies with my mom, too. Except her dough came from a bowl, not a tube.”
“We really are from the same cloth.” Elbow resting atop the concrete countertop, Sadie looked contemplative. “Our mommies both died and we bakeded cookies with them.” She smiled then, as though she’d just realized the same thing Christa had. That, perhaps, God had brought the two of them together for a reason.
When the cookies came out of the oven, both Sadie and Christa sampled the fruits of their labor. Okay, so there hadn’t been much laboring, but they still deserved a treat.
Midway through a game of Go Fish with Sadie, Christa eyed the antique schoolhouse clock that ticktocked on the kitchen’s far wall. Mick would be back anytime. After being out in the cold, he’d be more than ready for something hot, so she turned up the heat a notch on the simmering soup and added the noodles.
Thirty minutes later, dinner was ready. Fifteen more passed and there was still no sign of Mick. Not the first thing that hadn’t gone according to plan today, she reminded herself. But after a second loss to Sadie, another round of cookies and the incessant sound of ice pelting the window, Christa began to worry.
While Sadie played on the rug in the living room with a set of vintage Lincoln Logs Christa had picked up at a flea market, Christa stole a few surreptitious glances out the window, hoping to see the lights of Mick’s tractor. Instead, there was only darkness.
What was taking him so long? He said an hour. Two had passed. He had her number. He would have called or texted if there was a problem. Right?
A gust of wind rattled the windows on the old house.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Sadie was oblivious.
“What are you building?” Pulling her cardigan around her, Christa moved to the sofa and plopped down.
“A doghouse for Dixie.”
Christa eyed the miniature structure. “I don’t think she’ll fit in that.”
“I know. But we could build a big one that looks just like it.”
A thud on the back porch had Christa standing. She’d just started into the kitchen when she heard something akin to a knock coming from the door. Her steps quickened as she hurried into the mudroom. Shoving the curtain aside, she saw an ice-coated Mick.
She jerked the door open. His coat and insulated overalls were covered in a layer of white while miniature icicles hung from the brim of his hat and his face was beet red. Without thinking, she reached for his arm and pulled him inside. “What happened?”
“B-battery died on the tractor. Had to w-walk b-back.”
“In this weather? Why didn’t you call me?”
“My ph-phone was dead, too.”
“Oh, Mick.” She helped him out of his coat then urged him into the kitchen as Sadie bounded in with Dixie at her side.
“You look like a snowman, Uncle Mickey.”
“Yeah, I feel like one, too, princess.” He pulled a chair away from the table and dropped into it. He looked exhausted.
Christa emptied the pockets of his coat. “I’m going to put this in the dryer and get you a blanket.” Momentarily setting the coat aside, she hastily grabbed a handled bowl from the cupboard, filled it with soup and set it beside him. “Be careful, this is really hot.” She grabbed a spoon from the drawer. “But at least it’ll warm you up.”
“Smells good.”
“It is good.” Scooping up the coat, she returned to the mudroom as another wind gust shook the house. A moment later, everything went black.
* * *
The only thing Mick could make out in the darkened kitchen was the flame under the pot on the stove.
“Uncle Mickey?” A tremor laced Sadie’s voice.
“I’m right here, princess.” He reached in the direction she’d been standing when the power went out.
She quickly latched on to his arm before crawling into his lap, her warmth as welcome as a rain shower in a drought.
Seemed he couldn’t catch a break today. First the weather, then school letting out early, a broken-down tractor, having to trek two miles through the wind and ice, and now, before he’d even had a chance to thaw out, the power was gone. And to think folks in other parts of the country spent months with weather like this. Not him. He hated the cold, which was why he lived in Texas. God was proving He had a sense of humor today, though.
“Well, that was bad timing.” Christa aimed the flashlight on her phone in his direction. “Now I can’t dry your coat.”
“At least we’ve got hot soup.” He nodded to the bowl she’d given him.
“Stand by.” Her light retreated into the mudroom then reappeared, growing brighter as she drew closer to the table. “I knew this stash of flashlights would come in handy someday.” She clicked one on and handed it to Sadie.
“Oh, thank you.” She danced the beam across the ceiling.
Turning on the other two, Christa stood them on the table, their beams aimed upward, affording them some much-needed light. “There. Now we don’t have to eat in the dark.” Her gaze moved to Sadie. “You ready for some soup?”
“Yes, please.” She shone the beam on Christa’s dog. “Look, Dixie. I got my own flashlight.”
Suddenly the darkness had turned into an adventure for Sadie. No telling how long it’d be before the power came back on. And that created a major dilemma. One he wasn’t ready to bring up just yet. Not when he felt completely wrung out.
Reaching to his left, he pulled out the chair beside him. “Sadie, why don’t you sit here next to me while we eat our soup?”
“Okay.”
Christa approached, carrying two more bowls with handles. “Here you go, Sadie.” She set the first bowl in front of his niece before sitting across from him with her own.
After a quick prayer, Mick wrapped one bone-chilled hand around the bowl while the other ladled a spoonful of the steaming broth into his mouth. “Mmm, this is good.” He grabbed a second spoonful. “And not just because it’s hot.”
“If the heat’s not enough to warm you up, the garlic and red pepper flakes should.”
“That’s what I’m tasting. I wondered what that kick was.” It felt good going down.
“We have cookies, too.” A noodle dangled from Sadie’s bottom lip. “Miss Christa letted me help.”
“I’m sure they’re delicious then.” He took another spoonful. “I think I’ll need a second helping of soup before I have a cookie, though.”
Things fell silent then. But as Christa finished her soup, she said, “So what do we do about the electricity?”
“You can call in the outage,” he said. “Don’t know how long it’ll take ’em to get on it. Maybe not until the storm passes. Even then, depends how many folks are without power.”
“You don’t think they’ll get to it tonight?” That was a crazy question. She’d lived in Bliss long enough to know things out here operated at a different pace than in the city.
“Wouldn’t count on it.”
“But it’ll be freezing in here. What am I supposed to do without any heat? Light my oven and sleep in the kitchen?”
“Wouldn’t recommend it.”
Even with the dim lighting, he could see her glaring at him from across the table. “Then what would you advise? And yes, I know that if I’d gotten my fireplace fixed we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“You brought that up, not me.” He scooped up the last piece of carrot and a chunk of chicken.
“Oh, like you weren’t thinking it.”
“No, I wasn’t.” He grabbed a napkin from the holder on the table. “What I was thinking, though, is that we’re going to need to head down to the camp house pretty soon. I stoked the fire before I headed out on the tractor, but I don’t want to let it get too low.” Not that he relished the thought of going back out in that cold.
“Do you think you have electricity at your place?”
“No. I mean it’s possible, just not probable. Depends if the problem is here at your place or somewhere else. Since I didn’t hear anything that sounded like a limb falling, I’m guessing it’s somewhere up the line. But you should still notify them that you’re in the dark.”
“But if your electric is out, too, why do I need to go to your place?”
“Because I’ve got a woodstove for heat. Downstairs anyway. Which means you two will be camping in the living room.”
“I like camping.” Sadie grinned. “Can Dixie sleep by me?”
Christa looked more than a little chagrined. “Why didn’t I grab one of those indoor propane heaters we carry at the store?”
“Probably would have been a good idea.” Bowl in hand, he stood and crossed to the stove for a refill.
“By the time I thought about it, we were sold out.” Leaning back in her chair, she blew out a breath as he sat back down. “Only had two to begin with.”
“You oughta start making a list of all the things you wish you’d done and then go ahead and do them once this storm is over, so you’ll be prepared next time.”
“You mean in another twenty years.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“At least you’ll be prepared.”
“You sound like my father
. He always said the best time to prepare for an emergency is before there’s an emergency.”
“Smart man.”
“He was.” She stared at her empty bowl. “He passed away four years ago.” Standing, she grabbed her dishes and moved to the sink. Turned on the water. Or tried to anyway. “Oh, come on. Now I don’t have any water?”
“Your water runs on a pump and when there’s no power to the pump—”
“All right, I get the picture.” She released a sigh before addressing him again. “So, what’s the plan?”
“For starters, why don’t you go gather your things. I’d recommend clothes you can layer, some heavy sweaters, if you have any.”
“How long do you think I’ll have to stay with you?”
“That’s going to depend on the weather and you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, ’cause I’m pretty sure that if you get mad enough, you’re going head back up whether there’s power or not.”
“Funny, Ashford. Beyond clothes, what should I bring?”
“Got any bottled water?”
“I always keep two cases on hand.”
“Good. Bring it.”
“What about food? You have a gas stove, right?”
“Yes, and they just filled my propane tank so we can cook up a storm.”
“Bad choice of words.”
“By the way, we’ll need to take your vehicle down to my place. I went out on the tractor, so my truck is at the house.”
When Christa finished gathering her clothes, a couple of blankets and a comforter, she and Sadie proceeded to comb the kitchen with their flashlights, gathering food items, while he warmed up Christa’s SUV and began loading.
The wind swirled around him, ice pelting his face. Hard to believe this all started with some pretty snow.
He’d just set Christa’s suitcase in the cargo area when he saw headlights coming up the road. “I’d hate to be that person.” He was about to close the hatch when he realized it was a sheriff’s vehicle. But why was it pulling into his and Christa’s drive?