Greg pulled both skillets off the heat, then turned back to her and wrapped his arms around her. “I might be a little off base here because I’m new to this whole powers thing, but what you can do seems pretty amazing to me. Of course, I think you’re amazing.”
“You do, huh?”
“Yeah. Pretty undeniably.”
Candice forgot all about the food on the stove as he kissed her, but a moment later, he stepped back and grinned. “We’re going to ruin our food if we don’t get it back on the burners.”
“Oh. Right. Food.” She blushed. “You distracted me.”
“Distractions are fun, but food is important.”
“Very true.”
They finished cooking, then sat at the table to eat. Candice could tell he was in pain—he’d probably been standing for too long, and she’d encouraged it. She’d have to see if she couldn’t find ways to encourage him to sit more.
“So, are you ready for tonight?” he asked after he swallowed his last bite of omelet.
“As ready as I’m going to be.” She dragged in a breath. She didn’t want to do this. She’d rather be doing anything else but this. But it had fallen to her, and she’d have a lot of support from her family and friends, and Marti seemed to think she’d be successful, so she really should just buck up and do it, right?
Her insecurity must have shown. Greg took her hand and squeezed it. “Just concentrate on all the good you’ll be doing,” he said. “Focus on your desired outcome. That’s what they told me my first round of physical therapy.”
“So … doing this is going to be just like enduring excruciating pain?”
He chuckled. “Okay, maybe using physical therapy as my example wasn’t the best idea, but you get what I’m saying.”
“I do. And I appreciate it. Focus on the desired outcome—I can do that.” She paused. “You know, things were a lot easier last week when my biggest worries were finding an apartment and making my new job work. Now I’m still homeless, newly jobless, and there’s a wall of water getting ready to crash through town.”
“But you have a new boyfriend,” Greg pointed out, and she grinned.
“Yes, I do. So I can’t complain about this week overly much.”
“That’s right.” He leaned over and kissed her. “You’d better get on your way—you have some stuff to do before the meeting, and I need to lie down for a little while.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m great. I just have to vary my position throughout the day to keep from stiffening up. I’ll see you later.”
Candice gave him a quick kiss goodbye, then headed outside to her car. She used to love rain, but now she hated it. The incessant sound, the constant dampness . . . and knowing what it was about to cause.
As she climbed into the driver’s seat, she gasped as a new sensation hit her. Something was shifting . . . something was changing . . .
She drove back to her parents’ house as quickly as she could for the road conditions, praying hard that her sister was home. She ran inside to see Marti sitting between her parents on the couch, her face white.
“It’s coming faster,” Marti said, echoing what Candice already knew. “What’s going on?”
“There was a shift in the atmospheric pressure,” Candice replied. “We’re looking at Monday afternoon now.”
Barbara closed her eyes. “Monday afternoon? That’s forty-eight hours away.”
“Can’t we do something to strengthen the dam?” Bob asked. “We’re focusing on what to do when it breaks—what if we keep it from breaking?”
Candice sat down across from her family and took off her wet shoes. She’d tracked in a little mud, but she’d clean it up in a minute, and her mother hadn’t seemed to notice anyway. “I’ve been thinking about that, and I can’t figure out how,” she answered. “I’m not a very engineery type, but wouldn’t we have to drain the river or something in order to work on the dam?”
“Well, how did they build the dam in the first place?” Bob replied. “The river was there at the time—they didn’t drain it then.”
“I don’t know.” Candice leaned forward and put her head in her hands. “My brain feels like it’s going to explode.”
“It won’t,” Marti said. “You’ll have a perfectly intact brain when we’re done. I promise.”
Candice managed to smile. Trust Marti to keep the humor going even in the darkest moment. “Okay. So. We hold the meeting tonight as planned—nothing’s changed there. But we need to see how Steve’s coming along with his backhoe. Dad, how did things go out at the ranch?”
“Great. Jonathan’s pulling the boys together now and explaining what needs to be done. We’re actually only here to grab some gloves and work boots, then we’re heading back out.”
“I sort of slowed them down with my mild panic attack,” Marti said. “But now that you’re here, we can panic together and send our parents on their way.”
“Good idea. Get out of here, Mom and Dad—Marti has someone else to panic with now.”
Barbara laughed as she stood up. “I’m glad we raised you all to be there for each other. We’ll see you at the church tonight—Jonathan and Meredith are planning to come too, along with Peter, and they’ll bring some of the older boys.”
“Great. Now I suppose we need to figure out how to get the mayor there.” Candice wished there was a way to address this from the ground up, but she knew if they didn’t get the town’s politicians on their side, the whole thing might turn into a paperwork tangle that none of them had time for.
“Meredith is actually good friends with the mayor’s wife, and I bet she’ll make the call for us,” Barbara said. “I’ll ask her when we get back out there.”
“Thanks, Mom.” That was a huge relief—Candice didn’t know the mayor or his wife on a personal level, and she couldn’t imagine calling them at home on a Saturday when the dam was still perfectly intact.
Bob and Barbara left, and Candice looked over at Marti. “So, magic sister of mine. Please tell me this all turns out the way it should.”
Marti nodded. “Everything’s going to turn out the way that it should, but there’s a lot of hard work between here and there.”
“I can handle hard work. It’s the uncertainty I can’t handle.”
“I’ll keep reassuring you, then.”
Chapter Six
Jeremy pushed Greg’s wheelchair into the church building, and Greg took it from there, maneuvering it around people and down the aisle until he had a good vantage point. He so badly wished he could walk in there and be the strong support Candice needed, but if he exerted himself too much, he could throw his recovery in reverse, and that’s the last thing he wanted. He’d be careful today so he’d be stronger tomorrow—another saying he’d picked up at physical therapy.
Candice came over and sat down on a bench next to him, clasping her hands in her lap. “The mayor’s going to be here in a few minutes,” she said quietly. “And Zachary got the chief of police to come. Why am I in charge of this again? Why haven’t I turned this over to someone older and more experienced?”
“Because you’re the one who understands the urgency,” Greg replied. “You and Marti are the only two who really get what’s about to happen, and I have the feeling Marti’s talents are being used a little differently right now.”
Candice looked at him. “I’m so glad you’re not scared of me anymore. It’s much nicer when you believe in me.”
He opened his mouth to contradict her and say that he hadn’t been scared of her, but that would be a lie. He might not have been shaking in his boots, but he’d definitely been nervous until he understood better, and that, he had to admit to. “I like it better too.”
She smiled, then froze as she looked over his shoulder. “The mayor’s here. I guess I should go greet him.”
“Probably.” Greg turned to look for himself. The man didn’t seem very intimidating—in fact, he looked kind of short and fat—but Greg didn’t live her
e, so he didn’t know anything about the mayor’s accomplishments or reputation. Maybe he’d be more intimidated if he did know those things.
“I’ll be back.” Candice stood, tugged down her sweater dress, and made her way up the aisle, where the mayor stood chatting with the pastor.
Greg settled back in his chair and studied his surroundings. This was a nice church building—simple, understated, yet reverent. There were a few stained-glass windows up behind the pulpit, very tastefully done. He hadn’t been to church regularly for a while, but he was a praying man, and it felt good to sit quietly in a church and appreciate it.
Candice came back and sat down again. “My family’s here, all three thousand of them, and I think we’re ready to get started.”
“Three thousand?” Greg chuckled.
“It sure feels like it sometimes, but in a good way. Oh, and did I mention that Heather’s having four babies? We don’t know how to have small families in the McClain clan.”
“Sounds pretty nice to me. Jeremy and I sometimes wondered what it would be like to have more siblings, especially a sister.”
“Well, you can borrow mine anytime. I have enough to spare.” Candice stood up. “Okay, here I go.”
Greg watched as she stepped to the center of the room. She wasn’t standing at the pulpit, but below it, and he thought that showed respect for the building and for their purposes that night. She wasn’t there to preach, so she didn’t try to give the impression that she was.
She stood for a moment until the chatter began to quiet, and then she spoke. “Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for coming out tonight. I’m pretty sure I know all of you here—that’s one of the best parts about living in Bagley—but in case we’ve missed each other somehow, I’m Candice McClain. I’d like to talk with you a little bit and share some ideas about how we can be better prepared as a community in case of natural disaster.” She glanced at Greg, and he gave her an encouraging smile.
“My cousin, Peter, would like to share an experience he had,” Candice said, motioning for him to come up to the front.
Peter was a pretty young guy, maybe a couple years older than Greg, and he’d recently been married to a young woman named Lillian. Greg had gathered from conversations around him that the McClain Boys’ Ranch was being transitioned over to Peter’s care, and that Jonathan and Meredith would go into semi-retirement. Greg hoped that he’d be able to keep all these names and faces straight—there really was a lot to memorize in this family.
“Hi, all,” Peter said, raising one hand. “Candice and I were talking the other day, and I mentioned a friend of mine, an engineer, who came out for a visit last summer. We were fishing out by the dam, and he mentioned that he didn’t think it would hold in case of heavy rainfall. When I mentioned this to Candice, she suggested that we get together as a community and talk about what we’d do if the dam were to fail, a way of preparing for the future.” He said it calmly, and Greg was impressed. It was a great way to introduce the topic and get people talking without causing panic.
Candice took the floor again. “We talked about all the things we’d want to have on hand in our homes, and then we traced where the water would most likely flow. We’d want to have sandbags at the ready, along with tractors and backhoes to plow up the earth and create a new channel for the water to take.”
One man in the middle of the room raised his hand, but spoke before he was called on. “Are you saying that we should be out there in the middle of a flood digging up dirt? That’s dangerous, Miss McClain.”
“I mean that we should be considering these things now,” she replied. “We’ve never seen rain like this in Bagley—at least, not during my lifetime—and if that dam wasn’t built up to these kinds of specifications, we might want to start preparing.”
“Well, I can’t see going through all that hard work for no good reason,” the same man replied. “I have enough to do—don’t have time for busywork.”
Steve stood up. “I live on property pretty close to the dam, and after talking to Candice and Peter, I went ahead and spent the afternoon plowing up some of my dirt and building a furrow to guide the water away from my place. I consider it time well spent because I’ll have peace of mind. Can’t put a price on that.”
“I can see this as a good project for the spring, but right now? I’m just so busy,” a woman on the west side of the room said.
“But it’s raining right now,” Steve replied, and several people began to mutter.
The mayor stood up and lifted both hands. “I’m sure Miss McClain isn’t trying to stir anyone into a panic here,” he said. “We’re just discussing possibilities, right, Miss McClain? You aren’t saying the dam is actually going to break, are you?”
Candice looked over at Greg. He wished he had anything to offer her, but he wouldn’t know what to do either if he was in her position.
“Mr. Mayor, I think it’s wise for us to prepare as though we had sure and certain knowledge that something was about to happen. Then we’d have all our safeguards in place, and we’d sleep better at night knowing that we’d be ready.”
The mayor turned and looked helplessly at Bob McClain. “Bob, what do you make of all this? Your daughter seems to be feeling a little negative today.” Several in the room chuckled, and it made Greg angry. They were poking fun at Candice, and that wasn’t right.
Bob stood, and the room quieted to hear what he’d have to say. “My wife and I raised our daughters to have heads on their shoulders, and if they’re using their heads for the good of the community, of course I’m going to support them in that. Candice has done her research, and I stand behind her one hundred percent. Believe you me, I don’t want to be the one left without toilet paper in case of an emergency.”
Everyone laughed again, but this time, it was in appreciation of the humor. That was better.
“Go ahead, Candice,” Bob said, motioning to her, and she swallowed.
“In severe cases, some homes would need to be evacuated, so I recommend that each household comes up with an evacuation plan,” she continued. “Each family member should know the safest way to exit the house, and you should establish a meeting place outside so everyone knows where to go once they evacuate.”
An older woman just behind Greg stood up. “When I heard about this meeting, I thought we were going to be making first aid kits or something important like that. This whole thing is just nonsense. We don’t have floods here—we never have. Why should we prepare for something that’s never happened?”
“Because we’ve never had rain like this,” Candice replied, feeling as though they’d already said this a dozen times over. “We need to prepare differently when we’re having different weather conditions.”
“I’m sorry, Candice. I know you’re a sweet girl and your heart’s in the right place, but I think this sort of conjecture is a waste of time.”
Little by little, those in the group trickled out through the double doors, and Candice looked like she was becoming upset. Greg wished he could comfort her, but even wrapping his arms around her would feel like a shallow, surface gesture. She needed something that truly spoke to her on a deeper emotional level, something that would tell her just how very much she meant to him.
And a necklace or a pair of earrings wasn’t what he meant.
He stood up as well, turning to face the room. “Wait! Please, wait a moment.”
Those people who were halfway out came back, curiosity on their faces.
“Evening, everyone. My name is Greg Burton, and I’m a ham radio operator out of San Antonio. Jeremy Burton here is my brother, and he works in town as a paramedic. One thing we’ve both noticed—him out taking emergency calls and me forwarding emergency information—is that people tend to react better when they’ve practiced it and know what they’d do in any given circumstances. When they have a game plan in their heads, their survival rates go up. There’s less scrambling, there’s less chance of a child slipping away—on just about every level,
preparedness is the best choice. Now, you might not take Candice’s word for it, but please take mine. I’ve spoken to countless victims of disaster over the radio, and I know it’s true—being prepared is never a waste of time.”
“I have some handouts here to explain what you can do to get ready,” Candice said, flowing from his comment right into hers. “Please pick one up on the way back. I’ve broken it down into steps so you can do a little at a time and not get overwhelmed.”
Greg watched as all the remaining people stepped over to the table in the back and took a pamphlet. He had no idea if he’d said anything that was actually helpful, but at least the mass exodus had slowed to a trickle.
For the rest of the hour, Candice walked the group through the handout, explaining different terms and telling them where to buy the various items they’d need. She stayed very much in control, and Greg nodded from time to time. He didn’t know whether this was information she’d already had or if she’d somehow pulled it together since that morning, but it was impressive and comprehensive.
By the end of the meeting, several people had commented that they’d go home that night and assemble a first aid kit and fill up some water bottles. That was a start, but nowhere near what was needed. At least Candice had gotten them thinking about what they’d grab in case they needed to evacuate, and he hoped they’d discuss safe egress routes from their homes and where to meet up with family members. Those were some of the most important things.
When the last person left and all the remaining people were family members, Candice flopped herself onto the bench next to him. “Do you think anyone was really listening? Do you think we did any good?”
“If nothing else, you got them thinking about it, and the information will be fresh in their minds.” He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “You’re amazing, you know that? The whole time you were up there, I kept thinking, she could work for the Red Cross. You’d never get rich, but I don’t think that’s what you’re after anyway.”
Candice (Seven Sisters Book 6) Page 5
