by Sally John
A Time to Gather
OTHER NOVELS IN THE SAFE HARBOR SERIES:
A Time to Mend, Book One
© 2008 by Sally John and Gary Smalley
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Published in Nashville, Tennessee. Thomas Nelson is a trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.
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Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
John, Sally, 1951–
A time to gather / Sally John and Gary Smalley.
p. cm. — (Safe harbors ; bk. 2)
ISBN 978-1-59554-429-2
I. Smalley, Gary. II. Title.
PS3560.O323T55 2008
813'.54—dc22
2008022898
Printed in the United States of America
07 08 09 10 11 RRD 6 5 4 3 2 1
Table of Content
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Forty-Six
Forty-Seven
Forty-Eight
Forty-Nine
Fifty
Fifty-One
Fifty-Two
Fifty-Three
Fifty-Four
Fifty-Five
Fifty-Six
Fifty-Seven
Fifty-Eight
Fifty-Nine
Sixty
Sixty-One
Sixty-Two
Sixty-Three
Sixty-Four
Sixty-Five
Sixty-Six
Sixty-Seven
Sixty-Eight
Sixty-Nine
Seventy
Seventy-One
Seventy-Two
Seventy-Three
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
Reading Group Guide
For my neighbors on Aguamiel Road
“A man reaps what he sows.”
—Galatians 6:7
The Beaumont family
Max—Married to Claire. Founder and owner of Beaumont Staffing, a nationwide staffing firm.
Claire—Married to Max. Volunteer for community organizations and violinist.
Ben and Indio—Max’s parents. Their grandchildren call them Papa and Nana. Their home, the Hacienda Hideaway, is a retreat center located in the hills above San Diego, California.
Max and Claire’s four grown children
Erik—News anchor for a local San Diego television station.
Jenna—High school English teacher. Married to Kevin Mason.
Danny—Lexi’s twin. Software guru and surfer.
Lexi (Alexis)—Danny’s twin. Gardener. Artist.
Others
Felicia Matthews—Erik’s coanchor and girlfriend.
Rosie Delgado—San Diego police officer.
Bobby Grey—Rosie’s partner.
One
Lexi Beaumont trotted as best she could along the narrow, uneven path, her camera bouncing against her hip. The guy ahead of her—that would be the one with the long legs sprinting gazelle-like over the rough terrain—set their pace. As usual, keeping up with Zak Emeterio was a challenge and a half.
Not that she was complaining. Hanging out with him was the major highlight of any week. Or month, for that matter. Her achy quads over the next few days would remind her of their time together.
Oh, stuff it. She sounded like a bubblehead. The moony teenager phase had to stop.
Her big toe slammed the edge of a half-buried rock. “Yow!”
Zak spun around and caught hold of her flailing arms. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She smiled through a wince. “But ouch! That hurt.”
“I’ll slow down.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Way to hang in there, Short Stuff.”
Lexi groaned like a drama queen, although she didn’t really mind his nickname. He’d dubbed her “Short Stuff ” the night they met, his voice hushed and full of gratitude. “You are amazing,” he had said with a small smile, the whiteness of his teeth in stark contrast to his soot-covered face.
I can just imagine the headlines: Alexis Beaumont, aka Short Stuff, leads three big, highly trained, half-wit firefighters to safety.
Grinning now, Zak let go of her arms, tugged the brim of his cap, and took off again. “We’re almost there!” he yelled over his shoulder.
Their destination lay in sight just a short distance below at the end of a steep descent to the lake. Lexi followed more slowly, placing her feet carefully on the packed dirt and embedded rock. She squinted against the sunlight, harsh in spite of her ball cap and shaded glasses, and took in the vista of the wilderness preserve through which they’d hiked.
Talk about amazing, she thought. There they were, within walking distance of densely populated San Diego communities as well as a freeway, and yet total wilderness surrounded them. No sign of human life marred a 360-degree view of rock-strewn mountains and a tranquil lake. March wildflowers, a few trees, and native bushes grew on the hillsides. Hawks and turkey vultures soared lazily above. Egrets stood serenely along the water’s edge. Ducks and grebes paddled, squawking intermittently.
“Can you paint it?” Zak called to her.
She lifted her camera and shrugged. “It won’t fit.”
He laughed.
Painting wildlife was her favorite pastime. Well, second favorite, right after hanging out with Zak. She photographed subjects and worked from the prints. He didn’t know the first thing about art and wasn’t interested in it one bit. Sometimes, though, he connected the dots: Lexi plus camera plus wildlife equals painting. His efforts to enter her world zinged her every time—turned her to slush.
She stepped onto the outcropping where he sat. It was a fairly level stretch of rock that jutted out from the shore a few feet above the water, just large enough for the two of them. Adjusting the shoulder strap, she shifted the camera to her lap and sank cross-l
egged beside him.
“It’s coming.” He grinned like a kid in a toy store. “Hear it?”
“No.”
“Listen. It’s really faint.”
She waited in silence. Try as she might, no way could she tune into anything beyond her own booming, erratic heartbeat. Its cause had little to do with the two-mile hike up and down a craggy, sun-drenched trail.
On the surface Zak Emeterio met, in her opinion, every classic requirement for eye candy: tall, sculpted muscles, strong jaw, wavy black hair, eyes the color of Wedgwood—a winter-sky blue muted by the sheerest of clouds. Hands-down beautiful.
Beneath the surface he was a hero: kind, funny, smart, and a brave firefighter who saved lives. Hands-down knight material.
And he sat beside her, Lexi Beaumont, she of the mousy attributes from straight brown hair to khaki cargo pants to personality. Hands-down fumble queen of relationships.
Zak looked at her. “You okay?”
“Sure. A little out of breath. That hike was not exactly a breeze—”
“I mean this . . .” He waved an arm as if to encompass the two thousand acres before them. “This preserve reminds me of your grandparents’ estate.”
That would be the one the wildfire had ripped through the previous fall, the night she met Zak.
“Lex, from what you’ve told me, you never go there like you did before the fire. And I’ve noticed that you only want to jog with me at a beach or park.” His eyes, not shaded by sunglasses, studied her with obvious concern. “Really green parks.”
She averted her gaze toward the lake. “I don’t go there because it’s not like it used to be. Not because the vegetation is gone, but because my parents live there now. Nana and Papa live down the road and they float around like ghosts trying to pick up the pieces from their old life. It’s just too sad.”
His arm brushed hers and he took her hand.
Add big, strong hands to the list. She said, “I know, I know. Some hot, dry, windy day this place will burn. It’s nature’s way of cleaning house.” She looked at him. “But it’s springtime now. We had rain all winter and just last week. Things are blooming. We are sitting next to a lake. You’re with me. I am not scared.”
“If you were, it’d be understandable.”
“Zak!” She whined the syllable into three. “Sorry. Learned that trick from my sister.”
“Bzz!” He mimicked a game bell. “Subject change not allowed. I’m taking your emotional temperature. Come on, don’t groan. I haven’t done this for a long time.”
Maybe because they hadn’t seen each other for a long time? Not that she was complaining. They were, after all, only friends, thrown together by fate, their shared fifteen minutes of fame used up ages ago.
“Come on yourself,” she said. “Give me a break. It’s been six months. I’m fine.”
“The impact of trauma goes on and on. The other guys and I are still talking to the counselor. He’s available to you.”
“I know. You told me before. Once or twice.”
“Or thrice.” He leaned nearer her and pulled off her sunglasses. “And I will tell you again.”
“It’s different for you. You need to get your head on straight for work. You have to keep going into those situations. You fight fires for a living. I don’t.”
Humming a sigh, he rested his forehead against hers. “How are the nightmares?”
“Gone.”
“Bzz. Fibbing not allowed either.”
“Well, they are gone. Mostly. Only once in a while, when I’m overtired, and they’re not too . . . awful.”
“And you’re fine with that?”
“Yes!”
“Life is hard enough, Lex. We might as well ease what pain we can.”
“I’m fine.”
He jerked upright, his eyes wide. “It’s here!” He pointed to the mountain across the lake. “That way.”
Again Lexi strained to catch the sound. After a moment, it came. A deep rhythmic whomp, whomp, whomp grew louder and louder. Suddenly a helicopter burst into view. Like some prehistoric, monstrous bird it rose straight up from behind the mountain. Clearing the peak, it swooped down and shot directly at them, the roar of its engine deafening.
That was when Lexi knew she wasn’t fine. Nope. Nowhere near it.
Terror tasted like bile in Lexi’s throat. It smelled like ash. It thundered in her ears.
Still. Two hours after the helicopter had finished its display over the lake.
She and Zak sat on a restaurant’s patio. He chattered nonstop about the event, totally unaware of her thoughts because she hadn’t shared them.
“Oh, man!” he said for the umpteenth time. “That was so incredibly cool.”
She couldn’t help but tune him out. Her imagination refused to leave behind the source of her distress: the night of the fire. The night and the morning that followed.
It was the morning, the aftermath, that haunted her even more than the memory of the danger itself. She remembered how she and Zak and the others had walked through what could easily have passed for a war-ravaged land. Instead of bushes and trees there was black and debris. Instead of sunlight there was a sky of pewter. She had trembled uncontrollably, adrenaline drained by then, shock setting in.
A helicopter flew overhead several times, back and forth. It hovered and stirred up ash until they all choked on it. There was no place for it to put down. There would be no help from it. It left, taking with it all hope that the real-time nightmare would ever end.
Now she bit into a french fry, obliterating that other taste. The sun was shining. She was with Zak. There was nothing to be terrified about.
Her reaction had caught her by surprise. Not that it mattered. She wouldn’t be repeating that scenario any time soon. It wasn’t like she’d become a groupie and attend SDFD helicopter exercises.
She picked up another fry, part of a late lunch. Or was it early dinner? Her sister Jenna would be appalled. Midafternoon burgers and fries?
Were Lexi and Zak dating or not? According to Jenna’s standards, the answer was not. There were no regularly scheduled candlelit trysts, not even weekly phone calls. But, Lexi thought, it’s no big deal. So they weren’t dating. She and Zak were friends. Who knew? They could be inching their way toward romance and real dates.
“Lex.” He grinned and picked up his hamburger. “Tell me, was that the coolest thing you’ve ever seen or what?”
She swallowed and pasted on a smile. “Sure. Watching a giant hose dangle from a helicopter and suck up lake water and then spray it all over the hillside is my idea of extreme fun. I especially thought it was cool that they could do it at least eighty-nine times without stopping.”
“I know!” His eyes did their little-boy number, wide and starry. “It was amazing!”
Clearly she needed to work on her sarcastic tone.
“They’re scheduled for a repeat tomorrow. We can go again!”
Whaaa—
Laughter exploded from him. “You should see your face. Gotcha! You thought I believed you!”
“Ha-ha.”
“You’re a good sport, Short Stuff.” His face turned somber. “I know it bothered you. You were kind of clingy out there.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You faced a major fear, and you lived through it. Right?”
“I guess.”
He made a show of studying his bicep. “I don’t see any bruises—”
“I didn’t hold on that tight!”
He smiled, his lower lip curling in its funny way.
She went slushy again. Slowly, like during the fire’s aftermath, Zak Emeterio’s presence made its impact. The world was not such a scary place after all.
“I bet you’re tired of hearing me talk about fire stuff.”
She shrugged. “It’s your life.”
“So how’s your life? How was the shopping day with your mom and sister?” He bit into his burger.
“It was a disaster. How c
ould it not be? Mom wants a wedding gown, but surprise! She’s already married to my dad, and there’s no such thing as a dress for a re-wedding ceremony. Jenna insists that as bridesmaids we should dress alike in matching LBDs. Me look like her? Not possible. No way am I going there.”
“What’s an LBD?”
“Little Black Dress. The kind that makes Jenna look even more perfect than she is. According to her, every woman should have one.” Just the thought of trying on dresses with Jenna bugged her like crazy, but Zak’s attention drifted.
She said, “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, my parents are no longer acquainted with reality. What are we sibs going to do, though, except go along for the ride? I’ll have to find a dress.”
“I think it’s great your parents want to recommit to each other in a formal way. I wish my parents would do something like that.”
“Then you want to come with me to the wedding?” Oh, no. She didn’t say that. She didn’t. “I mean, the reception is going to be a huge party. My mom’s inviting half the city, probably all the fire stations. You know you’re welcome. It’s not like you’re a stranger. I didn’t mean . . .” Like a date. I didn’t mean like a date! I just don’t want to go alone. “I mean it’s no big deal if you don’t—”
“Lexi.” He pulled on his chin and kept his eyes fixed on his plate.
“I appreciate the invitation, and I would be happy to come, but—um—there are extenuating circumstances.”
She stared at him.
“I’ve told you about Abbey.”
That would be the ex. Really ex, as in out of the picture months before Lexi had met Zak.
At last he looked up and met her eyes. “Things are getting . . . complicated. I may, uh . . .” He cleared his throat. “Be spending time with her. Not that this changes anything between you and me. We’ll always be friends. We’ll still jog and stuff.” He scratched the back of his head. “I just don’t know about, you know, a nighttime dress-up thing.” His smile slid sideways. “LBDs and all.”
“Yeah, sure. I understand.” Her own smile attempt didn’t even get off the ground. “No big deal. You want those onion rings?”
“Uh-uh.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Have at them.”
“Thanks.” She scooped a handful and transferred them to her plate. The first sweet crunch of crispy breading was like heaven.
