Candice (Seven Sisters Book 6)

by Amelia C. Adams

  Candice tilted her head to the side. “Huh. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess it’s kind of a given. Do you think I should tell them about my gift when I apply?”

  “I don’t know about when you apply—that might raise a few eyebrows. But maybe after you’ve worked there for a little bit and have a supervisor you can trust. Like Rebekah did at the hospital.”

  “Look at us, talking like I’m actually getting the job.” Candice laughed. “We should probably be taking this one step at a time.”

  “Probably, but it’s fun to think about.” He leaned forward and picked up her hand, playing with her fingers and making tingles run up her arm. “There’s a question I’ve been wanting to ask you all day.”

  He wasn’t playing with her left hand, so chances were, he wasn’t about to pull out a ring, but she still found her breath catching in her throat. “Yeah?”

  “When Marti hinted that we should date, was she looking into the future, or was she just making a suggestion?”

  Candice swallowed, but it turned into a cough, and it took a moment for her to regain her composure. “I’m not exactly sure,” she said at last. “I mean, it kind of sounded like a precog thing, but it could have just been a meddling sister thing too.”

  “How can you tell the difference?”

  “Well, sometimes I can’t. They sound an awful lot alike. And she backpedaled a little bit when I asked her about it. So, basically, I don’t know.”

  “I see.” Greg kept playing with her fingers. “I’ve always wanted to choose my own way and make my own choices, and I’ve never liked the idea of someone coming along and telling me what I had to do. If a psychic or something had told me that you and I should get married, I’d probably head the opposite direction just because I’m so stubborn. But if that’s what Marti’s seeing . . . well, it’s different. It makes me feel hopeful, not coerced. And I want to see if that’s what fate really holds for us.”

  “So, you’re saying that you’ve gone from wanting to date me to wanting to check out the next level?”

  “Yeah. And just so I’m clear, I mean, let’s talk about getting married.”

  “Wow.” Candice sat back a little. “You’ve seen all the craziness I live with, and you’ve seen my weaknesses, and you’ve gotten to know my weird family a little more, and you want to talk about marrying me?”

  He grinned. “Yes, I’ve seen the craziness and I’ve met your weird family, but I don’t see weaknesses. I see amazing strengths. Let’s talk about getting married. But again, to be clear, I’m not proposing at this exact second. I think maybe waiting until after the flood hits would be a good idea. But we can see what the idea feels like.”

  Warmth spread from her stomach out to the tips of her fingers. “So far, it feels pretty good.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. “Now, let’s go save the town.”

  She gave him a wobbly smile. “Yes, let’s.”

  Chapter Eight

  Of all the difficult aspects of this situation, this was likely the most difficult—knowing exactly when to spring into action. Candice, Marti, and their parents had stayed up late Sunday night talking things over, and they decided that they needed to create more evidence to convince the townspeople that they were in danger. Bob volunteered to drive up to the dam at first light and come back with a report that it was weakening. That was true, whether or not the weakness was visible. Then they could get busy before the water actually hit.

  Everyone was up and dressed at dawn, and Candice found it hard to sit still as she waited for her dad to get back. She and Greg wouldn’t be seeing each other until later that day as Greg would be manning the ham radio and she’d be out helping, but they’d spoken to each other soon after she got up, and that would have to sustain her until she could see him later. He really did give her stability, and even if he did end up back in his wheelchair, he would be a strength in her life. She was becoming more convinced of that all the time.

  When Bob pulled into the driveway, Candice threw open the front door and ran outside. “Are we set to go?” she asked. “Can we start telling people?”

  He put a hand on her shoulder, then looked up at Barbara and Marti, who were standing on the porch. “The dam has started to crack. We now have all the visible evidence we need.”

  This was good news, but goose bumps still rose on Candice’s arms.

  “I’ll call the police,” Barbara said, heading toward the phone.

  “And it’s time for us to sandbag,” Candice said.

  She and Marti climbed into Bob’s vehicle, and they drove out toward the river. The trucks from the McClain Boys’ Ranch were already out there, as arranged, and within minutes, teenage boys were everywhere, pulling sandbags from the back of the truck and putting them in place. None of the boys knew about the McClain gifts. They believed they were helping prepare just in case, but they all had good attitudes about it.

  With Steve’s dirt furrow to guide the water one direction and the sandbags to keep it from drenching the houses across the way, Candice felt they’d done everything they could with this part of town. They moved farther in, placing bags in each spot Marti had indicated, and Candice couldn’t stop feeling surge after surge of gratitude that they had these helpers and these resources to rely on. Jonathan hadn’t even hesitated to arrange for tons of sand to be delivered once he’d heard the news, and Peter had spoken to the boys and rallied them. It had all come together so smoothly.

  Candice glanced at her watch. It was ten thirty. “All right,” she said to Peter. “We’ve done everything we can out here. Why don’t you take the boys back to the ranch and be prepared for whatever happens next. We’re going to be sending people your way.”

  He nodded. “Will do. Be safe.”

  She gave a nod in return. “You too.”

  The sound of a police siren giving one quick blip came from behind her, and she turned to see Zachary pulling up. When he got out, he said, “My captain’s got all units on standby.”

  “Great. Now it’s just a matter of time.”

  As Candice and her family members moved to higher ground, she could almost hear an alarm clock ticking in the back of her head. She and her sisters had each tested their gifts and knew their limitations, but this was the first time anything had been so specific. In half an hour, she’d know if she really could sense things that accurately, or if she was just getting fixated on a time in her head.

  The rain was now pounding down with fury. She hadn’t paid it much attention while they’d been working because she was so used to it by now, but it refused to be ignored any longer. Everywhere it struck her skin, it hurt, and she tugged the sleeves of her jacket down further to cover her arms.

  A moment later, Jessica joined her on the small hill where she stood. “We went door-to-door all along the water’s route and told the people what Dad saw,” Jessica called out over the sound of the rain. “We told them they need to evacuate, and to go to the boys’ ranch if they didn’t have anywhere else to be.”

  “Good job,” Candice called back. She hoped that at least some families had taken the initiative and left the night of the meeting, but she couldn’t count on that.

  And then she heard a sound that ripped through the air and terrified her down to her bones.

  First there was a crack, and then the rushing of water. It was like the thundering of thousands of horse hooves.

  She didn’t know if it was actually that loud, or if she could only hear it that well because she’d been listening for it. The rain was loud enough on its own that it should have muffled some of the sound, but it didn’t. It rumbled toward them, and she gripped Jessica’s hand tightly.

  Zachary had moved his police car several streets away and had come back. He now stood in position to keep cars and pedestrians from using that road. Candice knew that everyone at the hospital was ready for injuries—Dr. Hunsaker, the chief of staff, had listened to every word Rebekah said because he
was aware of her gifts. Everyone had done their part, and now . . .

  It was time.

  When the water rushed into town, Candice gasped and wondered why on earth she was out here watching it. It was the most frightening thing she’d ever seen. It was pulling up trees as it passed. It took a car parked along the side of the road and lifted it like it was nothing more than a toy, sending it downstream. Candice turned and watched as the water hit against the sandbags, praying they’d piled them high enough. Down the road, she saw as the water encountered Steve’s dirt wall and veered where he’d planned for it to go.

  “It’s working,” Jessica said, squeezing Candice’s hand. “Everything you thought out—it’s working.”

  Candice closed her eyes and breathed a silent prayer of thanks. If everything held . . . if nothing broke down . . .

  Her eyes flew open when she heard a sizzling sound and a series of pops. She looked around frantically, trying to identify the source of the noise, and then she saw it—the power poles that lined the edge of Steve and Tracy’s property had been loosened by the floodwater and were starting to tumble down, pulling the lines with them. A huge and expansive pool of water stood beneath those lines, and Candice knew that if anyone touched that water, they’d get electrocuted.

  She scrambled down the hill, looking for anyone who could help her. Zachary would have a radio in his car, as would any of the officers. So would the ambulance drivers. She just had to find someone, anyone who could call the city and get that line cut—or even someone who could cut the line themselves. Now she understood why Steve and Tracy couldn’t be on their property—chances were, they’d have been electrocuted by now.

  “Candice!” She heard Jessica scream. “Where are you going?”

  She turned. She could barely see her sister through the driving rain. “Gotta get help,” she yelled back. “Electricity.” She pointed at Steve’s farm, but she didn’t know if Jessica heard her. At any rate, she had to keep going.

  She reached the bottom of the hill and ran alongside the rush of water, careful to keep several feet between herself and it. She could see a group of people up ahead—if she squinted, they looked like police officers. Perfect.

  Just then, though, as she took her next step, the muddy ground beneath her gave way, and she slipped sideways, going into the water. It scooped her up and carried her along just as easily as it had any of the other debris it had collected along its path. She screamed, clawing, trying to get back to the bank, but the force of the water was too strong, and she couldn’t get out. She opened her mouth to scream again, but one of the trees that was being carried along with her spun around and smacked her in the side of the head, and she blacked out.

  ***

  Greg came back from his early morning physical therapy appointment and waited by the phone, knowing he’d be updated as soon as it was time. As soon as he got the phone call telling him that the dam was cracking, he positioned himself at his radio and spread the word. Radio operators all over the area responded, saying they were on standby and would send help as needed. It wasn’t long before he was calling in those promised favors.

  He didn’t know how long he stayed on that radio, acting as the hub of information. Jeremy had strung the phone cord through the apartment and set up the phone next to the radio so he’d have multiple ways to communicate, and he found himself taking phone reports almost as often as he was updated by radio. His back was getting sore and he desperately wanted to lie down, but he couldn’t stop what he was doing—his role in this was too important.

  After several hours, things seemed to die down a bit as people were moved to safety and the immediate danger was past. The force of the water was dissipating the farther it went—some of it was seeping into the ground, but also it was spreading wider as it took its new path. It would be a horrendous muddy mess for a long time to come, but the initial crisis was over, and now it was time for cleanup efforts to begin.

  “Greg?”

  He turned as he heard his brother come into the apartment. “Here. How’s it going out there?”

  Jeremy stood in the doorway to the spare room, drenched and covered in mud. “Pretty much as expected. Some downed power lines. Some backed-up sewers. Some basements filled with mud. A few injuries, but no deaths—at least, none that have been reported so far. Fences down, stuff like that.” He paused. “There’s one thing, though.”

  Greg studied his brother’s face. “What?”

  “Candice got caught in the water.”

  Greg came to his feet. He hadn’t stood for hours, and his knees buckled immediately, sending him right back into his chair. “Details.”

  “She’s at the hospital with a head injury. She’s still unconscious, but Rebekah says she’ll be all right. She just needs time for the swelling to go down.”

  “What was she doing in the water? I thought the whole point of this thing was not to go in the water.”

  “As near as we can tell from what Jessica said, she was worried about an electricity problem at Steve and Tracy’s. She waved and pointed that direction before taking off. Sure enough, there were some downed power lines, and they had to be cut before anyone got hurt. It would have been easy for one of the volunteers to step in some of that charged water.”

  “I knew trying to save the town would get her in trouble.” If Greg didn’t have Rebekah’s assurance that Candice would be all right, he’d probably be vomiting with worry by now. As it was, he could barely keep his hands from trembling. “How are the roads? Is it possible to get through? I know the main streets on the far side of town are all closed.”

  “We can get there. In fact, I brought an ambulance with me just in case we need a little extra credibility.”

  Greg stood up again, more slowly this time, and moved over into his wheelchair. Within minutes, they were on their way, and when they pulled up at the hospital, Jeremy was able to get them right in to see Candice.

  Rebekah was standing next to her, holding her hand.

  “She’ll be all right,” she said as soon as she saw Greg. “She whacked her head on something, but she’s been stitched up, and once the swelling has gone down, she’ll wake up. She’s going to be stiff and sore, and she’ll probably be pretty grumpy for a few days until the pain subsides, but that’s it. No residual injuries—nothing.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Greg said, glancing at the ceiling. He might not be in a church at the moment, but he’d never felt closer to the heavens than at that moment. “And thank you,” he said to Rebekah.

  “I didn’t do anything,” she replied.

  “You’ve told me she’ll be all right. That means everything.”

  Rebekah smiled. “Well, now that you’re here, I’ll go check in on my other patients.” She left the exam area, and Greg wheeled himself over to the bed.

  Candice looked so small and pale. She had a white bandage around her head, and he could see bruises in her face and arms—he wondered just what all she’d hit up against in the current of the flood. He pressed his fist to his mouth, trying not to make a sound as he thought about everything that could have happened to her. Yes, Marti had predicted that no lives would be lost, but didn’t the future change all the time based on people’s spontaneous choices? What if he’d lost Candice that day?

  Rebekah came back a while later and pressed a sack into his hands. “Some sandwiches from the cafeteria,” she said. “They aren’t the best, but you’ve got to eat.”

  He unwrapped the first one and took a bite without tasting it. “How long until she wakes up?”

  Rebekah touched Candice’s wrist. “About half an hour,” she said. “Enough time for you to eat and move around a little bit. Jeremy told me you were on the radio all day—your back must be killing you.” She paused. “Um, yes, it is killing you. Move around a little.”

  “Hey, I like hiding my infirmities from people. If you keep outing me, this is going to get awkward.”

  “I’m here for your own good,” she retorted.

>   “Fine, fine.” He finished eating, then stood, wincing. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been tightened like the strings on a violin. “Will you stay with her for a few minutes?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He walked up and down the hall a few times, located the men’s room, and then came back. Rebekah was checking Candice’s vitals, and Bob and Barbara had arrived.

  “How are things out at the ranch?” he asked.

  “Going well. They did some rearranging and were able to place six families in their cabins, and we fed dozens of volunteers and displaced persons,” Barbara reported. “We drove one of the trucks right into town and served sandwiches out both sides. Peter and Lillian are taking a turn now—we had to be here as soon as we heard about Candice.”

  Greg glanced at the clock. It had nearly been the thirty minutes Rebekah had promised.

  As if responding to his thought, Candice moaned, and her hand flew to her head. “What’s going on?” she mumbled.

  “You got carried away in the flood, and you hit your head,” Rebekah told her. “Mom and Dad are here, and so’s Greg.”

  Candice tried several times to open her eyes, and finally succeeded. She blinked a few times, then jolted awake. “The electricity! Someone needs to cut the lines—Dad, make them cut the lines!”

  “They did, Candy Cane,” Bob said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Jessica was able to help them figure out what you wanted, and the power’s been cut.”

  She relaxed. “Okay. That’s good then.”

  “Yes, it is, dear,” Barbara soothed. “You just rest. Don’t worry about a single thing—everything’s under control.”

  Candice nodded and seemed to drift off again. Greg was disappointed that he hadn’t gotten to speak to her, but he was so relieved that she was no longer in a coma, he’d accept whatever he could get. A moment later, though, she held out her hand. “Greg?”

  He moved to her side and squeezed her fingers. “Right here.”

  “Good. Listen.” She licked her lips, but didn’t open her eyes. “I like holding your hand. Like, a lot.”