“Surely, there will be others coming in, too.”
“That’s true.”
“How will we get that generator back to Reverend Michael?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll arrange something.” He was eyeing the upper story of the Garrison Building as they passed it and turned down First Street. “Thankfully, I won’t have much cleaning up to do.”
Maya gasped. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I should have asked. Is your apartment damaged? If it is, I’ll help you with it. I promise.”
“It’s fine. Let’s worry about one thing at a time.” He glanced across the street. “Access to the front of the hardware store and the parking lot looks blocked but I can probably find a few good old boys with trucks and winches to get past the clutter.”
He waved to a small group of his employees who were gathered in the street. “Is everybody okay?”
“Fine, Mr. Garrison. We were getting ready to close. No customers at all.”
“That’s good. Try to get to our spare generators, will you? I want the biggest one delivered to Reverend Michael at High Plains Community Church, ASAP. No charge. And grab a half dozen extension cords to go with it. Okay?”
“Okay. I’ll try to get a little gas for it, too. Anything else?”
“Yes. See if you can find a volunteer to man what’s left of the store so folks can get whatever they need—at cost—whether they have the money for it or not. Just write everything down and we’ll work out the details later.”
“Gotcha. I can stay. I live so far west of town I’m sure the storm missed my place.”
“Good.” Looking satisfied, Gregory turned back to Maya. “How much farther is it to Tommy’s?”
“Just down there. I can see the house. Praise the Lord! It’s still standing.” She could tell that her boss was having to work to keep hold of the struggling boy’s arm.
“Whoa, kid. Hold your horses. I’ll let you go in just a second.”
“Charlie!” Tommy kept yelling. “Charlie. Charlie, where are you?”
Maya looked up and down the street, hoping against hope that the black-and-white mutt would suddenly appear. Very little was moving other than the refuse that flapped in the trees and lay draped over every bush and signpost, as if naughty teenagers had arrayed it like toilet paper in a prank. Sadly, this was no childish practical joke. This was harsh reality.
Green-painted shutters had been ripped from the quaint Otis home and there were spaces on the sloping roof that were clearly missing patches of asphalt shingles. Other than that, the house looked in pretty good shape, especially compared to some of the others they’d seen so far.
Gregory released the boy and Tommy raced ahead, vaulting a low hedge that bordered the backyard of his foster parents.
Holding Layla close, Maya paused to watch. A dog house lay on its side with a chain tether still attached. The rest of the yard was deserted. Charlie was nowhere to be seen.
Tears came to her eyes as she heard the child start to sob. His loud weeping immediately drew Beth and Brandon from the house and they fell to their knees to embrace him.
At least Tommy was safe, Maya thought, thanks to the quick actions of Gregory Garrison. And this was probably only one of the many happy reunions occurring all over the area.
She’d never thought to pray for an animal before but considering the heartbreaking agony the poor, lonely little boy was in, she couldn’t see a thing wrong with doing so now.
“Father, thank You for saving us,” she began to whisper. “And please help Tommy find his dog.”
At her ear, hugging her neck tightly, she heard her three-year-old add, “Amen.”
Middle-aged, slight portly, Brandon Otis was the first to approach and offer his hand to Greg. “Thanks for bringing him home. We were pretty upset.”
“I can see that,” Greg said, noting a slight tremor in the man’s grip. “No sign of the dog?”
Brandon shook his head. “Nope. None.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to add aside, “That’s the least of my worries. Beth doesn’t say much but I think her old ticker is acting up again. Wouldn’t be surprised after what we just went through.”
That took Greg aback. “Your wife is ill?”
“The only times it bothers her is when she’s stressed, like now. And having Tommy’s dog here hasn’t helped. We just didn’t have the heart to refuse to let him bring it.”
“How is that a problem?”
The older man huffed in disgust. “We had a fight just about every night over bringing Charlie inside. We always said no, but half the time he ended up sleeping in Tommy’s bed with him anyway. Poor Beth had more laundry from this kid than a dozen of the ones we’d fostered before him.”
“I had just assumed Charlie was your dog.”
“No way. Beth’s allergic. The only reason we gave in was because the authorities swore Tommy would be lost without it.” He gestured. “I even built a dog house with a tie-out chain. See? Not that Charlie spent much time there.”
“Tommy was riding a bike downtown when the storm hit. Charlie was with him then. Afterward, we couldn’t find him and we’d hoped he’d wandered back this way.”
“Nope. Sorry. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him.”
Disappointed, Greg left Brandon and stepped over the low hedge into the Otises’ backyard. As he approached, Beth stood, wiped her eyes and went to join her husband, Maya and Layla.
The boy was sitting on the grass with his face in his hands, oblivious to the wet ground, when Greg crouched next to him.
“I’m sorry,” was all Greg said. That was apparently enough.
Tommy looked up. His eyes were red and his face puffy and tear-stained. He paused a moment to stare, then got up and threw his arms around Greg, catching him by surprise and nearly bowling him over.
“Nobody cares,” the boy wailed.
Astounded by the intense reaction, Greg nevertheless recovered enough to embrace the child and try to comfort him. He was in way over his head. He didn’t know how to handle kids, what to say to them or how to help. He just knew that Tommy’s suffering was touching his heart with a depth of feeling he hadn’t known existed.
As soon as the child’s sobbing lessened enough that he could heed spoken assurances, Greg said, “I care. And so does Ms. Logan.”
“Charlie’s my—my only friend,” Tommy stuttered, sniffling. “He’s my best buddy. We go everywhere together.”
“Then I know he’ll come back if he can,” Greg said sympathetically.
The boy’s blue eyes widened. “What if he’s hurt like my mama and daddy were? They never came back.”
“There are going to be lots of people out looking for ways to help each other in the next few days and weeks, son. I’m sure someone will find your dog. And we’ll look especially hard for him, just like we promised.”
“You—you will? Cross your heart?”
Greg made the motion that went with the question as he replied, “Yes. Cross my heart.”
In truth, he felt as if his heart was breaking for this sad, lonely child. Remembering his own youth he could readily identify with Tommy. There had been no one in his young life at the Garrison estate who had understood him except his mother, and when she’d died he’d been so bereft that no words could describe it. Although he’d still had a father, Dan had become even more withdrawn than usual, leaving Greg feeling totally isolated.
In those days, if he hadn’t had some animals to tend, to talk to without censoring his thoughts and words, he’d have been as forlorn as Tommy was now.
Blinking, he fought back the tears that had so unexpectedly filled his eyes. He didn’t know how they were going to find the missing dog, or if they ever would. Only one thing was certain. He was going to try as hard as possible.
Maya kept peeking past Beth’s shoulder at the astonishing scene taking place in the Otises’ yard. If someone had asked her an hour ago whether she thought Gregory Garrison even liked children, let alone empathized with them, she would
have flatly denied that possibility.
Now, however, she was witnessing a show of compassion from her crusty boss that she could barely believe. Not only was he comforting Tommy, he was doing so on his knees in a wet, muddy yard despite his expensive slacks.
Then again, she mused, the rest of his suit was already ruined back at the office, so she guessed it didn’t matter much. It was amazing what things no longer did, such as keeping her hair looking neat or her shoes polished, not to mention making sure her own yard was tidy.
Maya shuddered as she contemplated going home. Assuming I still have a home, she added silently.
Her conscience reared up and kicked her. Things could be replaced. People could not. She should be praising the Lord and thanking Him that they had all survived instead of worrying about lost or damaged possessions.
Smiling slightly, she took another peek at her boss and Tommy. They had separated. Greg was getting to his feet. He offered his hand to the boy and they shook solemnly, apparently sealing a gentlemen’s agreement.
Maya was so touched by that tender sight she almost wept. A big, strong man was treating a frightened little boy as his equal.
Never again would she view Gregory Garrison in the same light as before. He might deny it—and probably would—but he really was a nice, nice man under all that sternness and supposed perfectionism.
And he had just earned himself a place among those few special, extraordinary individuals whom she most admired.
Of all the shocks this day had brought, that was certainly one of the most meaningful.
Chapter Four
Maya waited patiently with Layla until Beth and her husband had ushered Tommy into the house and Greg had come back across the hedge.
“Well, what’s next?” he asked. “How far is it to your place?”
“About a block and a half. I live at Logan and Second Streets, past the elementary school grounds.”
“Do you want to walk on over and see how your house fared?”
She shrugged and grimaced. “I’m not sure. I want to see, but I don’t, if you know what I mean.”
“I certainly do.” He gestured down the narrow sidewalk, then held out his arms to Layla. “May I have the honor of carrying you, Princess?”
The three-year-old giggled. Maya could tell that her daughter wouldn’t mind if Greg took her for a while so she passed her to him with a smile. “I thought you didn’t like children.”
“I admit I haven’t had much experience with them but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I don’t like them. Let’s just say they’re a mystery to me.”
“Fair enough. Thanks for offering. She was getting heavy.”
“And you’re stressed out, besides,” he said. “You didn’t bring your purse. Do you have a house key with you?”
“Don’t need one. I never lock my doors. Besides, my purse is safer in my desk drawer than it would be if I were hauling it all over town with me.”
“That makes sense. You’ll feel better once you’ve seen your place and gotten some sensible clothes and shoes.”
Maya knew he was just chatting to try to distract her from the harsh reality of the tornado’s destruction, but his constant reminders were getting old fast. “I know, I know. As you’ve said before, I need to change before I can be of any use cleaning up.” Meeting his gaze and sensing his thoughts she was instantly penitent. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s been a rough day.”
“For everybody,” he countered. “And I do understand. Thank goodness we have insurance.” He hesitated, studying her expression. “You did have your house insured, didn’t you?”
“Well, sort of. I had been meaning to increase the coverage. You know how it is. That place has stood there for more than seventy-five years, through all kinds of weather. I never thought anything would happen to it.”
“We don’t know that it has,” he replied.
“No, not yet. But I’ve had a bad feeling about it ever since we were hiding in the basement.” She pointed. “Look at the elementary school. See that pile of tar paper? Half its roof must be lying in the street.”
Filled with more foreboding by the second, she skirted a downed limb that bridged the sidewalk, then hurried ahead to the corner.
All her breath left her in a whoosh of relief. Praise the Lord! Judging by what she could see from there, her house was in pretty good shape. The gabled roofline was intact and the windows on that side seemed solid.
She turned back to her boss with a smile. “Wow. It looks okay. I can’t believe it.”
Together, they proceeded down Logan Street. Several other homes were slightly damaged to the same degree the Otis house had been. Other than that, and the partially denuded trees along the frontage areas, there was actually little destruction showing.
As they neared Maya’s home, however, she began to glimpse loose boards and insulation littering her side yard. Beginning to jog ahead, she soon knew the full, awful truth that had been hidden behind the untouched portions of the old house.
By the time the others caught up to her she was standing on the soggy carpeting where her living room had been and looking at the gray sky that was visible through the remaining ceiling beams and roof joists.
All her boss could say was, “I’m so sorry.”
She bent to retrieve a small pink teddy bear from the rubble, then dropped it when it streamed rainwater. “I knew it. I just knew it.”
“What about the rest of the place?” he asked. “Do you want to watch Layla while I check it for you?”
“What?” Maya had heard him speak but her mind was so focused on the incredible damage she’d barely taken in his question, let alone processed it.
“I said, do you want me to check the rest of the house?”
“I don’t know, I…” Suddenly she began to giggle.
Approaching, he gently touched her forearm. “What is it? Are you okay?”
Maya nodded while she continued laughing. Soon, tears were streaming down her cheeks.
“I’m fine,” she finally managed to say. Waving her hands in front of her, palms out, she struggled to explain. “My first thought was that I didn’t want you to go into the back rooms because…because I hadn’t finished folding and putting away the laundry.”
She was grinning inanely, she knew, but the situation was just so ridiculous—and she was so keyed up after the storm—she couldn’t help herself. “I didn’t want you to see the clutter. Can you believe it? I’m standing in a nonexistent living room and I’m worried about a messy bedroom. I should be thankful I even have a bedroom.”
“I see your point,” he said. “I was afraid you’d come unglued again.”
“Not me,” Maya replied. “I am usually one together lady in spite of my behavior earlier today. After my parents died, Clay and Jesse both said it was my sensible nature that kept our family on an even keel.” She sobered. “Of course, it didn’t stop my brothers from quarreling or keep Clay from leaving home. Still, I did all I could to keep the peace between them.”
“I’m sure you did.” He passed Layla to Maya and backed away. “If you think you can stand letting me tour your messy house—what there is of it—I’ll go see if the bedrooms seem stable.”
Maya nodded. “Thanks. We’ll wait. I’d go myself but I don’t want to expose Layla to any more dangers. I’ll turn off the gas at the meter, just in case they haven’t shut down service to the whole town yet.”
“Good idea. Hang on and try to keep from getting too silly again. I’ll be right back.”
Watching him wend his way through the partially collapsed room and enter the hallway, Maya again gave thanks for Gregory Garrison’s assistance.
She hadn’t dreamed she’d ever have a casual or personal conversation with her stuffy, persnickety boss, let alone encourage him to poke through her home. Then again, there wasn’t anything to hide. She had done her best to support herself and her daughter, though that had meant making many sacrifices along the way. What few p
ossessions they did have were contained in that house. Correction, in what was left of it.
For an instant, she rued the loss. Then she remembered that she and Layla were alive and well and asked the Lord’s forgiveness. She was grateful. Period. And no matter what happened next, she was going to make certain she never lost sight of that blessing.
Thinking of family again while she shut the gas valve, her thoughts turned to Jesse. He was almost ten years her senior, yet she had the urge to mother him, to give him a big hug and soothe his losses, assuming the second twister had actually hit the ranch, as she’d supposed.
As soon as the phones were up and working, her eldest brother was going to be the first person she called. And until then, she was going to pray for him and his family as fervently as humanly possible. The rest was up to God.
Greg found surprisingly little damage in the remaining parts of Maya’s house. There were a few cracked windows and some of the ceiling plaster had fallen but other than that, the bedrooms and bath were intact.
He returned to Maya with a smile. “Looks good back there. Solid, not shaky. I think it’s safe for you to go take a look.”
“And change my clothes and shoes. I know,” she said with a wry grin. “You don’t have to tell me again.”
He hoped he was managing to look suitably contrite because he wanted to make her life as easy as possible, especially right now. “Hey. I didn’t say a word.”
“Not this time, no.”
It pleased him to see a genuine smile light her pretty face so he added, “See? I’m teachable.”
“I’ll reserve judgment on that. Watch Layla for me while I change, will you? I’ll need to pack a few things for both of us, too, assuming they’re not sopping wet. We certainly won’t be able to live here.”
“Probably not for a while. But I can help you rebuild if you want.”
“You’d do that? For me?”
Healing the Boss’s Heart Page 4
