Candice (Seven Sisters Book 6)

by Amelia C. Adams

  Candice looked at him, her eyes huge. “What did you say?’

  “Um, you aren’t interested in getting rich?”

  “No, the part about working for the Red Cross. What? You look like I just said something really weird.”

  “No, I think you said something really wonderful. I’ve been trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. I’ve tried a few different jobs, but none of them have seemed to fit. I want to do something useful, something important—I want the fact that I lived to mean something when I’m no longer here. The Red Cross might be what I’ve been looking for.”

  He held up a hand. “Don’t go running off to apply just on my say-so. I think you’d be fantastic at it, but that doesn’t mean it’s right, and that doesn’t mean they’ll hire you.”

  “Of course I realize that, but it puts me in mind of several other organizations where I could apply if that doesn’t work out.” She grinned at him. “You’re pretty fabulous, you know that? You’ve just opened up a giant black curtain in my brain, and now all this light’s flowing in and I’m having ideas left and right.”

  “That sounds kind of painful, but if it’s useful, hey, glad there was something I could do.”

  Bob and Barbara walked up, Bob’s arm around Barbara’s shoulders. “That was fantastic, Candy Cane,” Bob said. “You did a great job.”

  “Candy Cane?” Greg smirked.

  “Oh, it gets even worse,” Barbara said good-naturedly. “Bob’s is a brand of candy cane, you see. So when Candice was born and we named her, the first thing my husband said was, ‘She’ll be a Bob’s candy cane.’ We can’t have just one joke or pun at a time—we have to layer them.”

  “I see.” Greg was still smirking, and he could tell that Candice was annoyed. “It fits her.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Candice rolled her eyes. “Should we get out of here? I know Tracy and Steve volunteered to stay after and vacuum, and they’re probably antsy for us to get out of their way.”

  “Probably so.” Barbara slid her arm through Bob’s as they walked out, and Greg reached to take Candice’s hand.

  “I hate saying goodbye to you. I feel like we have so little time together before everything hits the fan.”

  “I think it pretty much hit the fan in the middle of the night, but I totally understand what you’re saying.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “When this is over and everyone’s safe and we’ve done all we can do, I’m going to sit still, stare into your eyes, and do nothing else for hours on end. That’s what we should be doing right now, but fate had some other ideas. We’ll just postpone all that stuff until later.”

  “I’m not sure I want to stare at you for hours on end. I think I’d rather talk to you and go out to eat and watch movies together.”

  “Yeah, I like that idea too.”

  Jeremy walked up, ready to push the wheelchair out to the car, and Candice gave Greg a quick kiss. “See you at church tomorrow. Oh, I forgot—everyone comes over to the house after church and we have crazy big meals.”

  “That sounds great. What do you mean by ‘everyone’? Like, the whole congregation, or . . .?”

  “The whole family,” she replied. “And since you’re family now . . .”

  He watched as her face turned red. “Um, I mean, since we’re such good friends, and since you’re Jeremy’s brother . . . I didn’t mean that you have to marry me now or something . . .”

  Jeremy and Greg both laughed. “It’s okay, Candice,” Greg said. “I understand what you mean.”

  “Actually, I think you do have to marry her now,” Jeremy interjected. “I mean, you know the secret of the McClains now. That ties you to them in strange and mysterious ways. Even if you manage to escape, there will always be strings pulling you back . . .”

  Candice gave him a look. “Strings like my mother’s cooking, for one. Night, Greg. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She preceded them through the doorway, and Greg watched as she dashed for her car, her coat held up over her head. Not that it would do much good—her coat was probably already damp.

  “The two of you would be great together,” Jeremy said, standing behind the wheelchair.

  “You know what, I think we would,” Greg replied.

  Jeremy came around to the front of the chair and leaned on the doorjamb, his expression serious. “While we were sitting there in the meeting, it occurred to me that you might not want to stay here. You were asked to help get us off the ground with the radio, but you’re not obligated to stick around. Do you want me to drive you back to San Antonio?”

  “What?” Greg shook his head. “Are you kidding me? I’m not going to leave now, not when things are about to get scary. I wouldn’t leave Candice like that, and yes, you have a radio, but you don’t know how to use it, and you’re not a licensed operator anyway.” Then he blinked as the deeper implications set in. “Are you worried that I won’t be able to handle it?”

  Jeremy pressed his lips together. “I’m worried that you might overdo and get hurt. I know your heart, Greg. You want to get in there and help. Right now, though, that’s not a good idea.”

  “I know, and yes, it’s frustrating. You have no idea how frustrating. But I’ll be careful. I want my recovery to be a success—when I’m healthy, I’ll be able to help even more people. I promise, I’ll stay behind the radio. I won’t hurt myself.”

  “Good.” Jeremy clapped him on the shoulder, then took hold of the chair again. “Let’s get home. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day.”

  Chapter Seven

  Candice had told herself dozens of times to go to sleep, but it wasn’t working, and she finally sat up and flipped on her lamp. Her brain just wouldn’t shut up.

  She went out into the kitchen and grabbed herself some crackers, then sat down at the counter and stared at the phone. She really wanted to talk to Gaylynn, but it was crazy late at night, and calling someone in the middle of the night was rude. But wasn’t that what sisters were for—to forgive your rudeness?

  She finally picked up the phone and dialed Gaylynn’s number, hoping her sister would answer and not Zachary. She liked Zachary a lot—he was a great guy—but he was a police officer, and police officers needed their rest, and it was so much easier to wake up her sister.

  “Hello?” Gaylynn sounded wide awake, and Candice relaxed a little bit.

  “Hey. I’m sorry to bother you, but can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

  Gaylynn laughed. “Of course. In fact, I was just about to call you. You’re carrying a lot of burdens right now, little sister. Are you all right?”

  “I think I am—Marti says I am. At least, she keeps telling me no one’s going to die, and that’s what I’m clinging to right now.”

  “Yeah, I cornered her tonight and asked her the same thing. I think we’re all worried about that—injuries and property damage are so much easier to deal with. Death? That takes everything to a whole new level of awful.”

  “It really does.” Candice wrapped the phone cord around her finger while she spoke. “So, how do you think it went tonight? Were people listening?”

  “I think several of them were. The rest . . . it was hard to say.”

  “Greg said that I got people thinking, at least.”

  “And I’d say that Greg’s right.” Gaylynn paused. “So, what’s going on there?”

  “Between me and Greg? That’s a tough question—less than twelve hours after we decided to date, we decided the town was going to be destroyed. That doesn’t exactly set things up for a great romance.”

  “Not a traditional one, at any rate. Do you like him? Tell me the truth now . . .”

  Candice chuckled. “Yes, I like him. A lot. It’s just weird because I never thought about him that way until Marti suggested it.”

  “And how do you feel about his disability?”

  Gaylynn’s question, although mildly asked, brought Candice up short. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, does the fact that he’s sti
ll in a wheelchair most of the time bother you?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.” Candice sat back and blinked. Was it bothering her? Gaylynn could see right into the heart of any matter, and if she thought it was an issue . . . “If it’s bothering me, I don’t think it’s conscious, but maybe on some level, I’m worried about him getting hurt.”

  “I think it would be worth your time to think about it,” Gaylynn said. “How would you feel if he lost the progress he’s made, and he’s in that wheelchair forever? Would you care about him differently than you would if he made a full recovery and started running circles around you? One thing I’ve learned is that we do tend to create feelings about people based on their circumstances, and yes, you would relate to him differently in those two instances. But in each case, would your feelings be open and loving?”

  “You’re asking me if I’d resent becoming his caretaker,” Candice said.

  “In a roundabout sort of way, yes, that’s what I’m asking,” Gaylynn replied.

  Candice sighed. She’d thought calling Gaylynn would make her feel better, but now she wondered about that. “To be honest, I think I’d feel we had more of a partnership if we were both healthy,” she said. “That doesn’t mean that I’d break up with him if he had a relapse—it just means that I’d probably think about our relationship differently.”

  “There’s also this—being his caretaker doesn’t mean that you’re better than he is or that you’re on separate levels somehow. You can take care of someone and still be their equal.”

  “That’s true. I’ve just never thought about being with someone who might need my help like this—it’s just not something that’s entered my mind.”

  “That might be the case, but you’d be excellent at it.”

  “Greg says he thinks I should work for the Red Cross.”

  “Really?” Gaylynn sounded interested. “You’d be great at that too.”

  “Again, not something I’d considered, but ever since he brought it up, I can’t stop thinking about it. Really getting out there and helping people, going in and seeing to their needs—right now, it seems perfect in every way.”

  “You’ve been floundering for a while now, little sister. This is the first time I’ve heard excitement in your voice in . . . months, maybe.”

  “Then you think I should look into it?”

  “What I think doesn’t really matter. It’s what you think, and that seems to be a yes.”

  Candice grinned. “I think you’re right. Okay, after we deal with this flood situation, I’ll go see what I can find out. And yes, I am making plans for after the flood. That’s part of what’s keeping me sane right now—visualizing how everything will be fixed or rebuilt and relying on Marti to tell me it’s all going to be fine.”

  “You need to stay focused on that. If you let yourself get overwhelmed by everything that’s going to happen between now and then, you’ll get sucked under. No flood pun intended.”

  “I’ve been making them too—I told Marti earlier that I was drowning in information, and she stuck her tongue out at me. Weird how so many of our expressions have to do with water, and how in the face of a flood, they stop being funny.”

  “Yeah. So, are you going to be able to sleep tonight?”

  “Sure hope so. Tomorrow’s going to be crazy.”

  “Do the best you can. Hang in there, sis. And we’re all going to do what we can to help—this is a family effort.”

  “Thanks, Gaylynn. See you tomorrow.”

  Candice hung up, then tiptoed down the hall to her room, hoping she hadn’t woken up everyone in the house while she was on the phone. They all needed their sleep for what was to come.

  ***

  In church the next morning, the pastor held up the stack of leftover pamphlets and encouraged everyone who had missed the meeting to take one on their way out. Many members of the congregation did grab one before leaving the building, and she was so glad to see that.

  Back at the McClains’ house, things were a little chaotic until Barbara held up both hands. “All right, everyone, listen up. We’re going to have a nice Sunday meal, and then we’ll discuss everything we still need to do. One thing at a time. We’ll think better on full stomachs, and if this is the last Sunday dinner we have for a while, I want it to be nice.”

  “Why would it be the last dinner, Mom?” Tracy asked.

  “Because we don’t know what we’re going to be doing next Sunday. We might be digging mud out of someone’s basement or building fences . . . whatever needs to be done. Dinner’s going to be a little farther down on the priority list.”

  “Well, our place just might be in the path of the water, and we don’t want to cancel dinner,” Tracy replied. “It’s one of the things that keeps us united as a family, and we need to keep doing it, even if we’re eating off bark plates in the middle of the woods.”

  “Oh, I was hoping you’d say that,” Barbara said as she threw her arms around Tracy’s shoulders. “Not about the bark plates because I think that’s disgusting, but about wanting to have dinner together. It’s my favorite part of the week.”

  Candice made sure Greg loaded up on all her mother’s specialties—she didn’t want him missing anything. Her own plate wasn’t nearly as full, though, and she realized that she didn’t have much appetite.

  “You’ve gotta eat,” Rebekah said, speaking softly in her ear. “I know you’re stressed, but you’ve got to get some fuel in there.”

  “It just sits on my stomach and doesn’t want to budge,” Candice said.

  “Then get some liquids. Some of that instant breakfast stuff. Does Mom have any in the cupboard?”

  “I think so, yeah.”

  “I’ll go mix some up for you.”

  Candice felt a little embarrassed that her sister was waiting on her, but at the same time, it was kind of nice to be watched over.

  At the conclusion of the meal, Barbara stood up. “All right, I hereby proclaim dinner to be over, and you can start discussing everything we need to do to prepare for tomorrow.”

  Each person reported on what they were doing and what still needed to be done. Bob and Barbara would be heading back out to the boys’ ranch that afternoon, where Bob would help the men and boys work on sandbags, and Barbara would help Meredith and Lillian prepare food for volunteers and displaced persons. They’d get as much done in advance as they could, saving the final steps for the next day.

  Zachary and Jeremy were going to help Steve finish plowing up the dirt wall on his property, and Kent and Jessica would start going door-to-door to see if they could get anyone else interested in listening to them.

  “The fact that we have some sunshine today is going to confuse the issue,” Candice said. “People are going to think the danger is past, and they’re going to be harder to talk to.”

  “Then we’ll just have to be extra convincing,” Jessica replied with a smile.

  “I talked to Heather right before church this morning,” Barbara said. “She wishes she could be here to help, and she says she’s praying for us.”

  “I think Idaho is the perfect place for her to be. If she was here, we’d be evacuating her out—she’s having four babies!” Tracy said.

  “That might be the only thing keeping her from hopping on a plane and heading down here,” Barbara replied. “As the oldest, she feels responsible for you all.”

  “And she doesn’t like missing out on the fun,” Jessica added.

  The discussion continued, and Candice felt like everyone was chipping in and that they were using their talents in the best ways possible. She didn’t notice until nearly the end that Marti had been pretty quiet during the conversation. “Marti, what’s the matter?”

  Marti shook her head, then turned to Steve. “Finish that wall tonight, and then you and Tracy need to evacuate.”

  “What? I thought we’d be safe once we built that retainer.”

  “Your house will be fine, but there’s something . . . I’m not quite clear. S
ome kind of danger. But you need to be off that property by the time the water hits.”

  “You’ll come stay with us,” Barbara said. “I’ll get your old room ready.”

  Jessica laughed. “This is kind of Mom’s dream—all her daughters coming home again.”

  “I do like having you here, but I wish we could leave the disasters out of it,” Barbara replied. “And speaking of disasters, we need to clean up the kitchen before we all go our various ways.”

  Greg had gotten a little lost in all the hustle and bustle, but he and Candice volunteered to dry the dishes that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher, and that gave them a chance to talk. “So, tell me you loved my mom’s potatoes,” Candice said. “Of all the things I need to know about you, that one’s the most important.”

  “I did love your mom’s potatoes, and I wouldn’t mind eating them on a fairly regular basis,” Greg replied. “Do you have the recipe?”

  “I do, but Mom’s kind of funny that way. She’ll tell you how to make it, but there’s always some kind of little tip or trick left out so yours won’t be quite as good as hers.”

  Greg laughed, handing Candice a platter to put away. “Tricky little thing, isn’t she?”

  “Oh, very. We still love her, though.”

  With the kitchen cleaned up and all the leftovers put away, Candice and Greg went into the living room, which was now much emptier. “What do you think Marti meant when she said that Tracy and Steve needed to evacuate?” Greg asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out.” Candice sat still for a moment, trying to focus. “I can feel the storm gearing up for a massive onslaught—no doubt about it. But I can’t tell what that has to do with Steve and Tracy. That’s not really my gift, though—I predict the weather. I don’t predict other stuff.”

  “And that’s another reason why I think you’d be great working at the Red Cross.”

  “Because I don’t predict other stuff?”

  “No—because you predict the weather. Think of the good you could do if the Red Cross had a little heads-up about when the next disasters were going to hit.”