“Will the electricity be back on in time to cook the turkey?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s Thanksgiving. We have to have a turkey.”
“We’ll think of something. But first I have to get the generator to Lynn. There are cold hungry people in the church hall.”
Sam nodded. “Can I come with you? Maybe there’s something I can do to help. I’m old enough.”
“It’s early yet. Don’t you want to go back to sleep for a couple of hours?”
“Nope. I’m awake now.”
“All right. Hurry and get dressed. We’ll swing by the church and pick up Tom Baines. He can help me load the generator.”
Sam washed his hands and face and got dressed while his dad cleaned the ice off the windshield of the truck. His granddad was bundled up in two sweaters and rummaging in the kitchen cupboards for candles when Sam came downstairs. Caleb found a couple of Christmas ones Sam’s class had sold to raise money last year, a half-burned Santa Claus and a snowman whose hat was melted all down his face. Caleb lit them and set them in the middle of the kitchen table. They didn’t burn very brightly, but at least it was already starting to get light outside.
Sam ate a cookie and drank a glass of milk and grabbed his coat and hat. “I’m ready, Dad,” he said when Mitch stuck his head in the door.
“Be careful. It’s slippery out.”
“I’ve got my snowmobile boots on.” He stuck out his foot to show Mitch.
“I don’t know when we’ll be back, Granddad.”
Sam was standing close enough to catch Caleb’s response. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’ll see if I can bypass the electronic ignition and light the oven for the turkey. Wish me luck.”
“Be careful, Granddad. They don’t make those things like they used to.”
“I’ve been working with propane stoves since way before you were born. I’ll get it hot. Don’t worry.”
Their truck had four-wheel drive, so it wasn’t too hard driving. At least his dad said it wasn’t. They picked up Mr. Baines outside the church hall and headed for the store. There were a lot of cars parked around the church. A lot of people must be inside. The hair on the back of Sam’s neck stood up and a chill ran down his backbone that had nothing to do with the cold.
He thought he’d seen Tessa’s car, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Hi, Sam. You’re up early,” Mr. Baines said.
“Hi.” Sam squirmed around in his seat, knocking his leg against his dad’s.
“Sam, sit still,” his dad said, tapping him on the knee to get his attention. “What’s so interesting back there?”
“I thought I saw Tessa’s car in the parking lot.”
His dad’s mouth pulled into the kind of straight line that meant trouble for someone. “She’s gone, Sam. There are lots of little red cars around. It’s not hers.”
Mr. Baines went on talking about the storm and how they were going to feed all those people at the church. He knew who Tessa was. If she’d come back to the church for some reason—any reason—wouldn’t he tell them?
His dad was right. She was gone. Just like his mom. Sam had to face up to that. She wasn’t going to fall in love with him and his dad. He wasn’t going to get to be a big brother. He wasn’t going to get a miracle like they read about in Sunday school, even though he’d prayed for about an hour last night that she’d have to come back to Riverbend because of the storm—and even crossed his fingers and toes and wished on a star he couldn’t see, to boot.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE GENERATOR STARTED on the second pull. Mitch hunkered down and checked the level of gasoline in the tank. Only half full, but enough for a couple of hours of running time. When everything was functioning, he’d go back to the store and fill a jerrican with fuel from the storage tank at the back of the lot.
He turned up the collar of his coat against the drips of icy water from the eaves spout above his head. He’d already gotten one or two down the back of his neck, but at least they meant the ice was melting. The temperature had been rising steadily the past couple of hours. Patches of starlight glimmered here and there through the clouds. Dawn was a gray streak on the horizon. With any luck the stranded travelers Lynn and her flock were sheltering could be on their way by early afternoon. He hoped the citizens of Riverbend would be as lucky getting their power restored.
Another cold drip found its way into his coat. He swore softly, although the cold water on his skin couldn’t make him any more miserable outside than he was inside. Tessa was gone. He still couldn’t quite believe it. She had simply packed up and left as he’d always feared she’d do. No goodbye call to the store, no forwarding address in a note left with the keys to the boathouse apartment. Nothing. She had simply gotten in her car and driven off into the storm.
He stood up, his knees protesting the change in position. He felt old and defeated after too many sleepless nights. He couldn’t stop trying to figure out where it had all gone wrong. He loved Tessa. He’d thought she loved him. But something inside her kept fighting that love. He’d been a damned fool to believe what he felt for her, what he knew instinctively she felt for him would be enough to overcome all her doubts. She’d told Delaney to take a hike, but whatever demons drove her had commanded her to do the same to him.
And he hadn’t been strong enough to fight them off for her. And in his misery he’d turned his back and let her go.
If he’d been fighting real dragons, instead of Tessa’s imaginary ones, maybe—
“Dad? Are you ready for Reverend Lynn to turn on the lights?” Sam was signing. The generator was noisy enough for even him to realize he couldn’t be heard over the engine.
Mitch reached for the extension cords that would allow them to restart the furnace and turn on the lights in the big kitchen. The generator he’d brought wasn’t big enough to run everything in the church hall, but it would allow everyone to stay warm and provide enough light for Lynn to get coffee started without scalding herself.
“All set,” he signed back. “Don’t turn everything on at once.”
“Right.” Sam disappeared.
Mitch followed him inside. The noise of the generator subsided when he shut the door behind him. They were at the back of the hall, in a room where the furnace and hot-water heater were located. Tom Baines was waiting for him with another extension cord. He took it and plugged in the furnace, while Tom held a flashlight to light his work. The fan on the furnace chugged into life, the pilot caught and the burner lit with a whoosh.
“Heat,” Tom said. “That’s good. We’ve got a dozen kids and old people in there.”
“You should be able to use the stove, too. Running the refrigerators and all the lights in the common room is pushing our luck, though.”
“I’ll make sure Lynn tells everyone that. It’ll be daylight in another hour or so. We won’t need the lights then. When do you suppose the roads’ll be clear?”
Mitch shook his head. “I don’t know, but I imagine Ethan or one of his men will stop by and give us a report as soon as they get out and inspect them.”
“Right.” Tom’s answer was abrupt and he seemed anxious for Mitch to be done and gone. Mitch couldn’t blame his old River Rat pal. He hadn’t been good company for anyone this past week. But since he’d come home from work last night and found Tessa gone, he had to admit he’d been downright impossible.
“I have to go back to the store and get some more gasoline for the generator. It’s out of my way to take Sam home. Is it okay if he stays here?”
“Uh, sure.” Mitch couldn’t see Tom’s face in the gloom of the musty-smelling room, but he sounded even more anxious than before to have Mitch gone from the church hall. “The kid’s probably hungry. We’ve got doughnuts and cookies and fruit. I’ll get him something to eat.”
“Thanks. He had breakfast before we came, but he’s always hungry. I should be back in twenty minutes or so. You’ll tell him where I’ve gone?”
&
nbsp; “No problem,” Tom said, but he didn’t sound as if he meant it. Mitch gave up trying to figure out his old friend’s odd behavior. He had too many other things on his mind.
He hoped it would be no problem for Ethan Staver to track down Tessa’s whereabouts for him. Because sometime during the cold dark hours of the stormy night he’d made up his mind to go after her. No matter if it took weeks and every cent he had. Even if he had to go door-to-door through the streets of Albany, New York, looking for her sister’s home. He wasn’t going to rest until he found her and brought her back to Riverbend—where she belonged.
TESSA FOLDED her blanket neatly at the end of her cot and picked up her coat and purse. She didn’t dare stay in the church hall any longer. It was full daylight outside. Sam was still there. In the kitchen, helping Lynn put doughnuts on trays, pouring milk into pitchers. She’d been watching him from the shadows, and the pain in her heart at having to stay hidden was almost as sharp as the pain in her back.
Surely this can’t be labor, is it? She asked herself for the hundredth time.
Her heart beat fast with apprehension. The pain was everywhere. In her side, her back, her stomach. It was steady and unrelenting. There was no respite, no easily timed contractions, or so it seemed. Something must be terribly wrong with her—or the baby. Tessa hadn’t felt her move in hours.
She needed to get out to the hospital. Townspeople were coming in now in a steady stream. Those without heat in their homes or loved ones to take them in, church members bearing dishes and casseroles, even a turkey to cook in the huge gas range.
The ice was starting to melt. Droplets had been splashing on the windowsills. She could see them from where she sat. That meant the streets were probably passable, if still treacherous. If she could get to her car, it was only a few minutes’ drive to the hospital. She could do it. She would do it. On her own. The way she meant to live her life from now on. She couldn’t even stop and say thank-you to Lynn. Sam was standing right beside her. Another new friend she would leave with a bad impression. It couldn’t be helped.
She dared not wait any longer and hurried into the hallway that connected the addition to the church sanctuary. The only illumination came from the double glass doors leading to the parking lot. She walked toward the murky gray rectangle of light. She’d expected ice on the windshield, but she hadn’t considered the possibility that she couldn’t get her car unlocked. The keyhole was iced over. She almost gave in to the urge to cry. The pain was unrelenting. But she was going to have to go back inside and find something to thaw the lock. She pivoted carefully, retracing her steps across the glazed surface of the parking lot, then froze in her tracks as a familiar four-wheel drive pickup swung into the driveway.
Mitch. There was no way he could miss seeing her. And no place for her to hide. She stayed where she was, leaning against the fender of her car for support, and waited. He turned off the engine and dropped out of the cab, crossing the icy pavement with long, distance-eating strides, as though it were dry as a bone, not as slick as a skating rink.
“Tessa? Sam told me he saw your car in the parking lot, but I thought he was just imagining it. What are you doing here?”
“I spent the night in the church hall.”
“You what? Why the hell didn’t Tom tell me that?”
“I asked him not to.” The iron band of pain in her middle eased for a moment. She straightened. “The roads were so bad when I left town that I turned around and came back. The hotel was full—”
“You have a home here, Tessa. Why did you come to the church like some stranded traveling salesman?” She’d expected anger and outrage in his voice; she heard only gentleness and disappointment.
“I couldn’t come back. I couldn’t do that to Sam.” She took a deep breath, or tried to. The pain had eased, but it wasn’t gone.
“What about me?”
“Oh, Mitch.” Her carefully thought-out arguments had flown from her head like birds flying away from a storm. You can’t trust your heart. You have only yourself to rely on. You’ll never have the strength to stand on your own again if you give in to this terrifying need to throw yourself into his arms. Why did putting up such a struggle for independence seem so meaningless when she was looking into the hurt and the longing in his eyes?
“Does Sam know you’re here?”
She shook her head. Another contraction snaked across her middle. She tried to breathe through it, the way she’d read about in the book Annie Stevens had given her. It didn’t help. Maybe because only half the pain was in her body. The rest was in her heart. “Lynn’s keeping him busy in the kitchen. That’s why I’m leaving now. Before it gets light enough for him to see me in the common room.”
“You can’t go anywhere. The roads are still a mess.”
She was in too much pain to argue with him. She didn’t want to argue with him. She wanted him to wrap her in his arms and hold her, tell her everything was going to be all right. That she and her baby were going to be all right, because she was suddenly terrified something was very wrong.
“I wasn’t running away,” she said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. She put her hand on her stomach and almost doubled over with the force of the pain. “I was trying to get to the hospital. Oh, Mitch, help me, please. I think I’m in labor. I’m going to have the baby now. And it’s too early.” The contraction tightened mercilessly. She clutched at the fender of her car, but the icy surface slid away beneath her grasping fingers. Her knees buckled. She began to slide to the ground. Mitch moved so quickly she didn’t see him coming. In a moment she was where she longed to be. In his arms.
“How close together are the contractions?” he asked, turning her around. She closed her eyes against the pain.
“They’re just there. Constant, almost. I…I can’t time them.”
He held her against his chest and opened the door of the truck. “I’m taking you to the hospital now.”
“I was going to drive myself,” she panted.
“Damn it, Tessa. Stop that. You can’t do every god-damned thing for yourself. When will you get that through your head? Let me help you.”
She waited for him to say. I love you, but he set his jaw and slammed her door closed on whatever else he might have been going to say. She laid her head against the cold glass of the passenger-side window and let the tears come. What had she expected? She’d thrown his love back in his face countless times. She couldn’t blame him for finally taking her at her word.
IT WAS LESS THAN TWO MILES to the hospital, but for Mitch the ride seemed endless. He felt as if he were moving through some sort of time warp. Everything was happening in slow motion. He almost couldn’t believe that Tessa was here beside him in his truck, when less than five minutes ago he’d thought he was going to have to move heaven and earth to find her again. He was having less of a problem believing she was in labor. Every bump in the road, every extra-slick patch of ice they hit wrung a little whimper of agony from her lips.
“We’re here, Tessa,” he said at last, easing the truck into a space outside the ER entrance. “Hang on. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“I believe you,” she whispered as he swung her up into his arms. “I can walk,” she insisted, sounding more like her stubborn lovable self than she had since he’d first seen her in the parking lot of the church.
“Sure you can. But I’m not going to have you slip and fall on the sidewalk.”
“What if you fall?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“I won’t fall.”
“But if you do, I’ll squash you flat.”
“Wanna bet?”
The bantering exchange got them inside the door. Mitch was relieved but not surprised to see Annie Stevens standing behind the nurses’ desk in the reception area of the ER. Maggie Leatherman was there, too, and Barb Baden, the mayor, along with her husband, Gary, Riverbend’s postmaster, and Wally Drummer, the old high-school basketball coach, and his wife. Maggie was the
president of the auxiliary, and the others were members. The hospital administrator had probably instituted the facility’s emergency plan when the power went off, calling in every doctor, nurse and volunteer who could get out of their driveways.
Annie came toward them, one hand shielding her eyes. The whole area was illuminated by huge emergency lights bolted to the wall just below the ceiling. Their light was harsh and concentrated on work areas and doorways. The rest of the place was in shadow.
“Tessa? I thought you’d left town to be with your sister.”
“I tried.”
“She’s in labor, Annie,” Mitch said.
Annie grabbed the handles of a wheelchair and pushed it forward. “Put her here.”
Tessa pressed a hand to her distended stomach. Her face was white and pinched, her eyes enormous pools of pain and anxiety. Mitch straightened with an effort. He didn’t want to let her go, even if she was more comfortable sitting in the chair. “It’s too early. I’m not due for three weeks.”
“Your baby’s not interested in what day the calendar says it is,” Annie said briskly, helping Tessa out of the sleeves of her coat.
“But what if something’s wrong?”
“Don’t borrow trouble. Let’s get you checked out and then we’ll worry if it’s warranted, okay?”
“Okay.” Tessa’s hands were knotted into fists on her lap. It took every ounce of self control Mitch possessed not to go down on one knee beside her and take her hands in his.
“Mitch, you wait here while I examine her. Tessa, is there anyone you want me to call?” Mitch wasn’t sure if Annie had been told Delaney had left town. The discreet question only underscored his own lack of place in her life.
Tessa looked up at him and managed a small smile that slammed into his heart like an arrow in the center of the bull’s-eye. “No. No one else.” She gasped as another contraction hit her.
Annie dropped to the balls of her feet beside the wheelchair and took Tessa’s wrist in her hand to check her pulse. “Breathe through it, Tessa. Small breaths. Pant. That’s the way.” The contraction went on for a long time. Tessa seemed spent and weakened in its aftermath. Mitch’s heart beat slow and heavy with dread. The contractions seemed so hard already. What if something was wrong with the baby? Or Tessa? Annie stood up and prepared to wheel Tessa away.
Last-Minute Marriage Page 22
