Gladioli in August

by Clare Revell

  “Yes. I made a couple of changes.” Jael ignored Steve’s smirk.

  “That’s fine.” Micah took the box, balancing the flask on top. “Let’s go and get this loaded.”

  Jael grinned at Steve. “Told you,” she mouthed as she followed Micah from the building onto the landing strip.

  Micah said nothing as he loaded the plane and did his usual walk around.

  “Did you sleep at all?” she asked.

  He hesitated, then shook his head. “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.” She kept her tone non-judgmental and soft. “You haven’t eaten either, so you need to drink something. Please.”

  “Are you going to ground me if I don’t?” he asked roughly.

  Jael drew in a deep breath. The idea had crossed her mind, yes, but she couldn’t come right out and say as much. “Only if I have to. I just don’t fancy crashing out there today.”

  “All right.” He grabbed one of the cups and filled it to the brim with steaming coffee.

  As he drank, Jael read the list of calls to him, pausing as his stomach growled.

  Micah pressed a hand to his middle. “Sorry. The coffee reminded my stomach I’d skipped breakfast.”

  “I’ll go see if I can find you something to eat.”

  He shook his head. “They won’t fix anything now breakfast is finished. It was hard enough getting the flask of coffee.”

  She winked. “It doesn’t hurt to check. Be right back.” She trotted across the compound to the kitchen just as they were clearing up. “Philippe, I don’t suppose you have any bacon left do you?”

  “Not still hungry?” he asked. His chef’s hat was at its usual jaunty angle, his apron already dirty.

  “My brother wrote me this morning, reminding me to eat lunch rather than skip it. So I figured I’d take something with me to keep him happy.”

  “All the bacon is gone, but I can do you some cheese rolls if you can wait a minute.”

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you.” She leaned against the door frame. All perfectly true. Kyle was always nagging her to eat lunch, and she had received a letter in with the parcel.

  Philippe handed her over a bag. “Plenty of rolls and some juice and fruit as well.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.” She headed back to the plane and found Micah at the controls. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” He pulled out one of the rolls and started eating slowly.

  Jael grabbed the clipboard, checking the list against the supplies she knew she had. “Are you really OK?”

  “I’m not sick if that’s what you mean,” he snapped.

  “I didn’t mean that. I meant, you’re not eating, not sleeping, and last night…”

  “It’s a long story and right now we’re running late.” He finished the roll. “So I suggest we get on.”

  She took the hint and pulled on the straps. “Then let’s go. Time’s a’wasting.”

  But even stealing his line didn’t raise a smile. Something was very wrong. But what?

  ****

  Micah yawned as he took off after the sixth visit of the day. Despite the coffee Jael kept insisting he drink, he was tired. The frequent tremors were also starting to get on his nerves a little, but hopefully whatever plates were moving would either do it properly or just give up and go back to sleep. Now that he knew they were earthquake related, he could relax a little—assuming the earth stopped moving long enough for him to do so. “I was thinking.”

  “Oh?” Jael shifted in her seat to look at him.

  “Maybe you should help with the schedule tomorrow.”

  She raised one eyebrow in that incredibly cute way she had. Despite his best intentions, she’d grown on him in a way he hadn’t expected. “Oh?”

  “I mean, your way of prioritizing is actually pretty good and saves both time and fuel.”

  “Is that a roundabout way of saying I’m right and you’re wrong?”

  He pushed his glasses up. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  Her nose scrunched in that delicious way as she smirked. “Of course not.” She reached into the bag and pulled out one of the apples. “So, did you want to talk?”

  He shifted on his seat, looking down at the controls. “About what?”

  “Last night and what happened in the chapel.”

  A voice echoed in his head as he banked the plane, aiming for a clear, long stretch of roadway in the middle of nowhere. The last place he wanted to be right now was in the air. He brought the plane down too hard and too fast, throwing both himself and Jael against the restraints as the plane finally halted. The plane continued to rock—either due to his landing or a tremor—he wasn’t sure which.

  Jael grunted with the impact and slowly rubbed her chest.

  “Sorry. Are you OK?”

  “Yeah. What about you?”

  He shrugged. OK was a relative term that hadn’t applied to him in years.

  She unfastened the straps and turned in her seat, folding one leg underneath her. “Talk to me.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to start,” he whispered.

  “Anywhere. The beginning is a pretty good place. Or last night, or wherever you were just before you almost killed us.”

  “I didn’t almost kill us,” he snapped. “It was a rough landing that’s all.” He sucked in a deep breath. “And as to where I was? Just some place my father…”

  He turned to the window looking out at the trees. “I wasn’t like the other kids. I was always in trouble at school and at home. Everything I did was wrong or not good enough.”

  “We all have days like that,” Jael said. “None of us are perfect. At least, not this side of heaven.” Her voice was soft and gentle, but not condescending.

  Yet. That would come when she knew how bad he really was.

  Micah didn’t look at her. “Did you get beaten because you didn’t wash up properly when you were six?” he asked. “Or because you played one wrong note in one of Rachmaninoff’s concertos? Or because your piano practicing woke up your father? I don’t think there was a day that passed without doors slamming or yelling. Every day I was punished for something or other, even when I did nothing wrong.” He closed his eyes, silence filling the plane. “Love is…”

  “Not that,” she said gently.

  “Spare the rod and spoil the child,” he muttered. “Children obey your parents in everything.”

  “Not by beating them into submission.” Her hand touched his arm gently. “Look at me.”

  Slowly he turned in his seat to face her. His eyes burned and his whole body shook as the all-too-familiar rage consumed him.

  “Micah, I can’t even begin to fathom what that was like, but I do know one thing.” She took his hand, her fingers cool against his skin. “You survived.”

  “I shouldn’t have,” he whispered.

  “Why not?”

  “He told me often enough I shouldn’t even have been born. And I still see his face now. In my dreams, in the darkness, coming for me.”

  “Because you haven’t forgiven him.”

  Micah ripped his hand from hers. “What?” he exploded. “Why should I? How can I? After what he did?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do,” she said. “We have to forgive as God forgives us. Because otherwise you can’t move on. He still has this power over you because you can’t forgive and let go. Yes, your father hurt you and he was wrong to do so. Is he still alive?”

  He nodded.

  “Is he a Christian?”

  Micah snorted.

  “Then pray for his salvation. Jesus said we should pray for our enemies, didn’t He? We’re all sinners, Micah. Just because we perceive some sins as greater than others, doesn’t mean all sins aren’t equal in God’s eyes. God loves you.”

  Micah stiffened in his seat as if struck by a bolt of lightning.

  She reached into the side of the seat and pulled out the Bible he kept there. “Hebrews 12 says, ‘You have not come to a mountain that can be
touched and that is burning with fire; to darkness, gloom, and storm; to a trumpet blast or to such a voice speaking words that those who heard it begged that no further word be spoken to them, because they could not bear what was commanded: ‘If even an animal touches the mountain, it must be stoned to death.’ The sight was so terrifying that Moses said, ‘I am trembling with fear.’ Here, you read the next bit.”

  He took the Bible and cleared his throat. “Where to?”

  “Verse twenty-four.”

  “But you have come to Mount Zion, to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem. You have come to thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly, to the church of the firstborn, whose names are written in heaven. You have come to God, the Judge of all, to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, to Jesus the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.’” He shifted, the words searing deep inside him.

  “Your earthly father may have failed you, but your Heavenly Father loves you with a jealous love. He’ll do anything for you to protect you.”

  “He died for me,” Micah whispered, the tears he refused to let fall burning his eyes.

  “And for me. And for—”

  “Dad,” he whispered. “He always told me his father beat him and it never did him any harm.” He paused. “But it did, didn’t it? The sins of the father to the fourth generation.”

  “But it can end here,” she said softly. “Forgive him.”

  “That’s a big request.”

  Jael took a deep breath. “My brother and sister-in-law had a lot of forgiving to do. Holly was the first and last victim of a serial rapist and murderer. She was lucky. He only beat her. Jayne, Kyle’s first girlfriend was his second victim, the first woman the guy actually killed. They found peace only by forgiving the bloke.” She paused. “Kyle saved Holly the second time—the bloke knew she could name him and came back for her.”

  Gripping his hands again, she began to pray for him, his father, and that he might find peace from the dreams and memories that tormented him.

  For his part, Micah stumbled over the words as he asked for forgiveness for his own actions and finally forgave his father. He knew he’d have to do this on a daily, hourly, maybe even a minute-by-minute basis for a long time, but God could work miracles on even the hardest souls, right?

  He looked up. His cheeks were wet, his glasses misted and stained with tears.

  “Here.” Jael handed him a tissue.

  “Thanks.” He pulled his glasses off and wiped his eyes before cleaning the lenses. Another tremor rocked the plane.

  Jael frowned. “That’s what, the third or fourth today?”

  “Something like that.” He shoved the tissue into his shirt pocket. “We should get on.” He started the plane. “Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

  “Dinner?” She sounded almost as surprised he’d asked as he was.

  “Yeah, as in a meal. Out somewhere, not in the canteen with everyone else.”

  “Are you asking me on a date?”

  He tilted his head. That hadn’t been his intention, but why not? It seemed right. He liked her and wanted to spend time in a non-work context with her. Get to know her better. “Yeah. You and me on a dinner date.”

  “Sure.”

  Her smile made his broken heart sing. He wasn’t his father. Perhaps letting someone in wouldn’t be a bad thing after all.

  Micah returned the smile. “About seven. Give us time to get back and change.” He accelerated and the plane hurtled down the path and took off, soaring into the blue sky, which for the first time in a long time didn’t mask the clouds in his soul.

  5

  Jael glanced out of the window as the plane flew towards the base. Her thoughts had done nothing but whirl ever since Micah had suggested dinner and then called it a date. A date. Was she ready for this? After all, she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to be distracted by anyone. She’d seen the agonies Kyle went through after Jayne died, and the way her mother’s death had all but destroyed her father. There was no way she was going to open herself up to that kind of hurt. No matter how happy Kyle was now with Holly.

  But, here she was, willingly putting herself in the path of possible heartache. And with Micah—the bloke she’d once termed the most annoying man on the face of the planet. He wasn’t what any magazine would immediately classify as husband material, but when she was with him, her heart beat a little faster. He was always clean and tidy and had bothered with aftershave, rather than just shaving and rushing out the door. His clothes were always ironed, and she assumed he did them himself. And his glasses, far from hiding his eyes, accentuated the beautiful grey-blue of them.

  The plane banked over the base. The building below them was moving. “Micah…”

  He glanced sideways. “What?”

  “Look…” She pointed as one of the older storage sheds on the edge of the compound caved in on itself in a pile of debris and dust. “What’s going on? Is it an earthquake?”

  “Yeah, and it’s a bad one by the looks of it.” He circled for a couple of minutes until it looked as though the building had stopped moving. Then he guided the plane onto the runway, the landing bumpier than normal. The plane swayed for several moments before it stopped.

  They both unbuckled in an instant and ran to the main building. The place was a mess with toppled bookcases, broken vases, and dust everywhere. The sound of the TV playing came from the main room and Jael followed Micah, her shorter legs ensuring she arrived a few seconds after him.

  Danny looked at them. “A five-point-four according to the USGS announcement,” he said. “Epicenter was roughly a hundred fifty miles from here. They issued a tsunami warning, but not for us.” He smiled at Jael, making her wonder if she looked as freaked out as she felt. “Don’t look so worried. This happens a lot.”

  “OK. I need to go contact Kyle, assuming the internet is still up and running. He’ll be worried.” She headed down to the computer room, her heart pounding and her stomach tied in knots. She was glad she’d been in the air when it happened, as being in an earthquake wasn’t on her bucket list. She sat by the computer and rapidly tapped an e-mail to her brother. She red flagged it, as then he’d be sure to read it quickly.

  Getting up, Jael headed into the office. The vase of flowers Kyle had sent was on the floor. The crystal vase had shattered into several pieces. She dropped to her knees and began to pick up the shards.

  “Let me help.” Micah knelt beside her.

  “Thanks.” She sucked in a deep breath. “So, is Danny right? Does this happen a lot?”

  Micah shook his head. “Occasionally. We’re on a seismically active part of the planet here. But then Danny’s from California, so he’s used to the earth moving, and unless it’s a six or above, he insists it’s a ‘little one’ and doesn’t count.” He picked up the flowers. “Gladioli, right?”

  “Yeah. Kyle sent fake ones as the real ones wouldn’t travel so well.” She took them, warmth shooting up her fingers as Micah’s hand touched hers. She bit her lip and shoved the flowers into a steel jug.

  “I would have thought you’d be a rose or carnation girl,” he said.

  “Flowers are flowers.” Jael set the jug back on the desk.

  “So why gladioli?”

  She bit her lip again. He just wasn’t going to drop it, was he? “You really want to know?”

  He helped her up but didn’t let go of her hand. His thumb brushed over the back of it before his fingers laced into hers. “That’s why I asked,” he said, holding her gaze.

  “My mother loved them. She grew them in the garden and the house was always full of them. Her name was Gladys.”

  “Almost the same.” He paused. “Was? Past tense?”

  “She died when I was fifteen. Cancer. That’s why I’m a nurse.” Her cheeks burned. “She even named me after the flowers.”

  There was a distinct twinkle in Micah’s eyes. “Seriously? Your
name is Gladioli?”

  She held his gaze, daring him to laugh. “Jael Gladioli, yeah. Not that I’ve ever told anyone. Not sure why I told you, actually.”

  Micah winked. “At least you’re not named after some obscure Old Testament prophet.”

  “Who, I hasten to add, gets a mention at every single carol service each Christmas.”

  “True.”

  She tilted her head. “And you’re not named after some obscure woman whose only claim to fame is murdering a king by shoving a tent peg through his head.”

  He grinned. “A king he may have been, but he certainly didn’t act like one, and therefore deserved everything he had coming.”

  “I guess so.” She glanced at the clock. “I should go and shower and change.”

  “Me too.” He winked. “But not in the same one. I’ll meet you by the truck just before seven.”

  ****

  Micah was at the truck in plenty of time. His tie was tight in his collar and he loosened the top button of his shirt. He rolled his sleeves above his elbows. Did he have time to go and change to a short sleeved one?

  At that moment, Jael came out of the door. Wow. Long, dark curls hung over her shoulders, framing her face. The red dress clung to her form and showed her in an entirely different light. The top of the bodice and sleeves were some kind of lace. The rest of the dress was some kind of shiny fabric and—

  Wow. Just wow. His heart pounded, his pulse raced and his stomach did a series of cartwheels. What had to be more than mere physical attraction surged through him. At least he hoped so. Because otherwise he’d be shallow and not fit to be seen with her. As it was all he wanted to do was show her off and enjoy every second the Lord gave him with her. Walking, talking, maybe even having a quiet time together?

  “Am I overdressed?”

  He realized his mouth was open and he was gaping at her. He covered it with a yawn. “Not at all. You look lovely.”

  Her smile lit her eyes. “Thank you. So do you.”

  “I look lovely?” Micah’s jaw dropped, more than a little taken aback. No one had ever called him that before. In fact he doubted any bloke in the history of the planet had ever been called lovely before.