Jenna's Cowboy
Page 27
Between Maple and the next street, Hickory, the damage increased dramatically. Beyond Hickory were only ashes and rubble as far as they could see.
As they slowly wound through the streets, the devastation stunned them. The cotton gin, five businesses, the Mission, and more homes than they could count had been completely destroyed.
To her surprise, Jenna didn’t cry when she saw the ashes of the Mission. But she wept as they passed block after block of burned-out homes. A lone chimney stood here. A burned car there. A child’s swing set in a backyard, scorched but standing while the ruins of the home still smoldered.
“Look at the trees.” Emily pointed to a big elm tree. The trunk was burned halfway up, the lower branches looked like charcoal, but a few dried leaves still clung to the uppermost branches. Many others were the same way.
At the museum, the section that housed the office, conference room, and records storage room was a blackened, gaping hole. The main portion of the building was still intact, though no doubt heavily smoke damaged.
From her spot in the backseat, Jenna glanced at Emily in the front. Tears streamed down her face. A few minutes earlier, she, too, had been crying for the families who had lost their homes. But these were fresh tears, perhaps of thanksgiving because she’d had the foresight to take the records. Perhaps gratitude that the whole building wasn’t gone.
Chance stopped in the street to give them a good look. After a moment, he reached over and gently squeezed Emily’s hand. “You did a good thing yesterday, Emily Rose.”
She squeezed his hand back. “We did a good thing, Chance.”
Will winked at Jenna but wisely kept his mouth shut.
When they got back to the shelter, they learned that the judge and fire chief had a partial list of the damage. In addition to the things they had seen downtown, ninety-eight homes in town and two farmhouses along with their barns had been destroyed.
They hadn’t tallied the burned cars scattered throughout the southwest and west part of town. In the farm and ranch area where the fire started, it would take days, perhaps weeks, to determine how many cattle had been lost or miles of fencing burned.
The firefighters had thoroughly searched the burned areas and found no sign that anyone had died in the fire. Nor had there been any serious injuries.
At 3:00, the authorities allowed the townspeople back into Callahan Crossing. As the news spread through announcements on the radio and television and by word of mouth, cars slowly streamed into town. Thick smoke still hung in the air, making it difficult to see. With street signs burned and landmarks gone, some folks had trouble finding where they had lived.
Those whose homes were intact, like Jill Harmon’s, comforted those who had lost everything. In the areas where the rubble had cooled enough, people sifted through the ashes with rakes, looking for keepsakes and anything that could be salvaged. They found little. The fire had burned so hot that appliances were mere piles of twisted and melted metal.
Mrs. Dodd’s son arrived from Austin and took her to see the ashes of the home she had lived in for fifty years. The only thing they found worth keeping was a pocketknife that had belonged to her late husband.
Jenna, Nate, Sue, Emily, and Lindsey worked at the shelter alongside others from their church and other churches in town. They served meals to those who had begun trying to clean up, handed out clothes and food supplies to those who needed it. Often they simply sat down and listened to stories of heartache and bravery and gave someone a shoulder to cry on.
People from FEMA, along with volunteers from the Salvation Army and Red Cross, were also there to help with financial assistance and how to get other aid. Insurance claims adjusters arrived practically in a caravan.
Members of all the churches in town organized to provide meals for the weeks to come, bringing the food to Grace Community on each church’s designated day and also working in the kitchen. Church folk from other towns brought food too, and came in to help. Cleanup would take awhile, and people had to eat.
The Baptist church filled up with donated appliances, furniture, towels, sheets, and other household goods. They quickly had to start sending people to the Presbyterian church with the overflow.
Money poured in from all across the nation, some through aid agencies and some into the disaster fund established at the Callahan Crossing National Bank. A committee was established to handle the funds at the bank and disburse them fairly and to those most in need.
Through it all, despite all the material loss, everyone thanked God that no lives had been lost, nor anyone seriously injured. The whole town hadn’t been destroyed. They would build again. Callahan Crossing had always been a close-knit community. It was even more so now.
•• On Saturday afternoon, in the bright, warm West Texas sunshine, Nate and Jenna stood beneath the old pecan trees at Aidan’s Spring. She wore her pretty peach sweater and calf-length turquoise and peach flowered skirt with white cowboy boots. The lovely gold heart-link bracelet and a sparkling diamond ring were her only jewelry.
Nate wore his best Sunday jeans, a new silver-gray shirt his folks had gotten him for Christmas, and his best pair of cowboy boots. And a fancy yellow and white gold watch that he kept checking every few minutes before the service started.
Lindsey stood up with Jenna. Chance served as Nate’s best man. With Pastor Brad officiating, Jenna and Nate pledged themselves to each other before family, friends, and their God.
Dressed in his finest Western shirt and jeans, Zach watched from his grandfather’s arms. “What they doing?”
“They’re getting married,” whispered Dub.
“What’s that?” His little voice rang out loud and clear in the quiet afternoon.
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Why?”
Waiting for their pastor and friend to finish the ceremony, Jenna and Nate looked into each other’s eyes and laughed.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Pastor Brad beamed them a smile. “Nate, you may kiss your bride.”
When Nate took her in his arms on this most special of days and kissed her, Jenna knew how it felt to be loved and cherished.
“Why they kissin’?”
Laughing, Jenna and Nate ended the kiss.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before, buddy.” Nate turned and reached for the little boy. Dub handed his grandchild to his new son-in-law and wiped a tear from his eye.
Zach looked around at all the people with a tiny frown as if he was trying to figure out why they were laughing.
“Are you wondering why Nate kissed me in front of everybody?”
“Uh-huh.” Her son focused on her.
“Nate and I just got married. Like Grandma and Papa are married. And Ramona and Ace. That means we belong together now. He’s going to stay with us all the time. He’s going to live at our house.”
Zach grinned and looked at Nate. “You live at our house?”
“Yes. I’m going to be your daddy.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Jenna saw Chance nudge Will. “Does he even know what that means?”
Will shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“My daddy?” Zach’s eyes were wide as saucers.
“Is that okay with you?”
Zach started wiggling in excitement and threw his arms around Nate’s neck. “Yeah!”
Jenna looked at her brothers. “Guess he knows what it means.”
“We’re a family now, Zach. The three of us. What do you think of that?”
Zach released Nate’s neck and sat up, resting his hand on his new daddy’s shoulder. He thought for a minute and threw his hands up in the air. “Awesome!”
Jenna knew she would love this brave, battle-scarred, and honorable man for the rest of her life. The healing the Lord brought to her broken heart was now complete.
Nate was not only the hometown hero.
He was hers.
Sharon Gillenwater was born and raised in west Texas, and loves to write abou
t her native state. The author of nineteen novels, including ten for the Christian market, she is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Romance Writers of America. When she’s not writing, she and her husband enjoy spending time with their son, daughter-in-law, and two adorable grandchildren.