by Sharon Sala
Jake’s grin widened. “And where are you telling Mommy we’re going?”
She pointed to a booth where stacked bottles were knocked down with baseballs, and then he saw the prizes. The walls were lined with all kinds of colorful glass bead necklaces. To a six-year-old girl, the jewelry must have looked like it came out of a pirate’s treasure chest.
“I thought you might like to play that game,” she said, as she gave him a considering glance.
“It does look like something I might enjoy,” he said.
She beamed. “Then let’s go tell Mommy.”
Jake let her lead him across the gym floor to the booth. Laurel had just put a red kiss on Lon Pittman’s cheek when they walked up.
“Mommy! Look who’s here!”
Laurel was laughing when she turned around, and then she saw Jake, and all of a sudden, she had stars in her eyes. She’d never seen him dressed up like this. The pants were dark, his shirt was pale blue. He had on a black leather bomber jacket and dark boots, and the thought went through her mind that he was beautiful.
“Oh! Hi!” she said.
“We’re gonna go win me some diamonds and rubies,” Bonnie said.
“She has high expectations,” Jake said, and then grinned. “We will be right over there at the bottles and baseball game, okay?”
“Uh, yes, sure, and thanks for letting me know,” she said.
The next guy in line was getting impatient. “Hey, Miz Laurel! It’s my turn. How about a real kiss?”
“Sorry, I have to get back to work,” she whispered, then turned around and frowned at the old man who was waving a five-dollar bill in the air. “Buzz Higdon, what would your wife say if she heard you say that?”
His wife stepped out of the crowd. “She’d say kiss him at your own risk. His false teeth are likely to slide out.”
The crowd roared with laughter, and Buzz grinned.
Laurel took his money, put a big red sticker on his cheek, and gave him a wink.
Buzz turned as red as his shirt. His wife laughed, and the crowd was clapping.
Jake did not want to walk away, but it was clear that Bonnie was on a mission, and while he couldn’t wipe that smile off of Laurel Payne’s lips, he could make her daughter happy.
He read the sign on the booth and plopped down two dollars. The man handed him three baseballs, told him the rules, and then stepped aside to give Jake a fair shot.
Jake moved Bonnie so that he could see her from his peripheral vision and then eyed the stack of bottles. He knew the ropes. The bottles were always weighted and were far harder to knock off than it would appear. But he’d been lobbing grenades and carrying a good portion of his weight in gear for years. He had this in the bag.
“Okay, Miss Bonnie. Rubies and diamonds it is,” he said, and fired a baseball into the stack so hard that they scattered in three different directions.
“Wow,” the man said, eyeing Jake with new respect. “You’ve just won your pick of necklaces from this wall.”
“I still have two more balls,” he said. “Set ’em back up and let’s see if I can do that again.”
The man laughed and restacked the bottles.
Jake fired a second baseball into that stack so fast that when it hit, it sounded like they had shattered.
The crowd that had gathered around them clapped and cheered.
“He just won you another necklace, little lady,” the man said.
“I have one ball left. Set ’em back up,” Jake said.
Bonnie was so excited she was dancing from one foot to the next.
Jake winked at her as the man reset the bottles one last time.
“Can he do that again?” the man cried, knowing it was going to draw a bigger crowd and more men would be wanting to try and match what Jake Lorde was doing. “Stand back, everybody! This one’s gonna be a barn burner, I can tell.”
Jake threw the last ball into the stack with such force that the bottles shot sideways.
The man whooped!
Bonnie was squealing and clapping.
The crowd cheered.
Laurel couldn’t see what was happening, but she knew the squeals were Bonnie’s and people were laughing and clapping. It had to be something good.
A few moments later, Bonnie came flying back to the kissing booth wearing three very ornate necklaces. One was made of red glass beads, the second one of silver beads, and the third one was clear glass—as close to diamonds as Jake Lorde could get.
She looked up at the man standing behind Bonnie.
God bless you, Jake Lorde. No girl ever forgets the first man to give her diamonds. You just gave my baby a night she’ll always remember.
“That’s wonderful!” Laurel said. “Now, my sweet girl, why don’t you come sit in the booth with me for a while.”
Bonnie cheerfully agreed, anxious to inspect her jewelry closer. Laurel got her situated, and when she looked up, Jake was gone. She tried not to feel let down and got on with her job.
But Jake hadn’t gone far. He still couldn’t believe he was standing in line at a kissing booth just for the opportunity to be up close and personal with Laurel Payne for a few moments more.
One by one the men moved up, then moved on, until there were only two ahead of him, and she still didn’t know he was there. And then there was only one man between him and Laurel. His heart was pounding, and he wanted to touch her, but he was absolutely certain that wasn’t allowed.
He already had a twenty-dollar bill in his hand. He didn’t know how big the sticker would be for that much money, but the way he figured it, the more surface she had to stick down, the longer it would take for her to do it.
He grinned at the disconcerted look on her face when she saw he was next in line.
“How much will this buy me?” he asked softly, and slid the twenty-dollar bill across the counter.
Her smile slid sideways as her face turned red.
Jake leaned forward like all of the other men had done so she could reach their cheeks, but Laurel had forgotten what to do. She was just standing, staring into his dark brown eyes, and reminding herself to breathe.
“Kiss him, Mommy!” Bonnie cried.
Laurel gasped and then fumbled for another set of stickers, ones with bigger lips—redder lips. She peeled one off and then reached out to put the sticker on his cheek.
Jake felt her fingers on his face, and when she began pressing the sticker down so it would adhere, he slowly turned his head so that her fingers were now on his lips.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, as she yanked her hand away.
“I’m not,” he said softly, and then backed up and walked away.
Laurel was so rattled that she couldn’t think what to do next. If it hadn’t been for Bonnie’s constant input and instructions, she would have embarrassed herself. Every time she got a chance to look around, she looked for Jake. But when she didn’t see him again, she assumed he’d gone home.
Then, in the midst of all the excitement, the sounds of sirens brought the noise inside the gym to a momentary halt. Seconds later, someone received a phone call, and then another and another, and word soon spread that there had been a terrible wreck on the road just past Ralph’s.
Laurel’s heart sank.
That’s the road she lived on—the road Jake lived on—and he was gone. Was it him? Did Jake drive away from the festival only to get in a wreck? She was in a panic. If she hadn’t put that flyer in his mailbox, chances are he wouldn’t have known to come. What if he was hurt? Or worse? She couldn’t let herself think of what might have happened.
* * *
Jake bought a corn dog and ate it while he was walking around. He saw plenty of people he knew, but it was quickly apparent going solo to these things had a downside. There was no one to laugh with or share the moments with. After pla
ying a couple of games of bingo and listening to two ladies bickering beside him, he quit the game and got up. Peanut Butterman waved at him from the far side of the room, but he was playing auctioneer, selling homemade pies to the highest bidder.
Jake was walking out of the gym when someone’s car backfired out in the parking lot. He jumped like he’d been shot and was looking for a place to take cover when it dawned on him where he was. After that, he knew it was time to go home before he embarrassed himself.
He was still shaking when he drove out of town. Despite the chill of the night, he rolled down the windows in the truck and let the cold air blow on his face.
He had just passed Ralph’s station when he thought he heard thunder, then realized the sky was clear. Seconds later, a bright-orange fireball appeared on the horizon, and once more, his skin began to crawl. As he topped a hill, he saw two cars in flames and someone standing, highlighted against the blaze. He called in the accident and then sped up.
When he arrived, he saw it was a young woman he’d seen standing, and she was staring blankly into the flames. He left his truck lights on and got out on the run. Blood was running from a cut in her forehead and across her cheek.
“Ma’am, you need to step back from the fire,” Jake said gently, took her by the arm, and led her a safe distance away. “What’s your name?” he asked, as he helped her sit down.
“Melanie Payne. Where’s my husband? Where’s Luke?”
“I’ll go look,” he said, hoping the husband was not someone still in the fire.
He ran back to look and found a man lying on the side of the road. Jake began feeling for a pulse and checking for obvious injuries.
“My wife, where’s my wife?” the man kept mumbling.
“What’s your name?” Jake asked.
“Luke Payne. Where’s my wife? Where’s Melanie?”
The name startled Jake. He knew this man. It was Adam Payne’s older brother—Laurel’s brother-in-law.
“She’s safe, Luke. She’s sitting by the fence. Where do you hurt?”
“My head, my leg. It wouldn’t hold me up no more.”
Jake felt both legs and then grimaced. There was a bone sticking out the side of his right leg. This was serious, even life-threatening. Where the hell was the ambulance?
“Do you remember what happened?” Jake asked as he took off his belt and quickly made a tourniquet between the man’s hip and the broken bone.
“Car came over a hill…both in the middle of the road. We hit. I don’t remember nothin’ else.”
Jake looked up at the burning vehicles and felt the scene beginning to go in and out of focus.
“My wife. Where’s my wife?” Luke kept asking.
“She’s okay. Don’t move,” Jake said, and then heard a siren, and then a second one, and he began to shake.
He was on his knees with his head down, trying to stop the world from spinning, when he thought he could hear someone else screaming for help. He checked the tourniquet again and then forced himself to get up and began circling the burning vehicles, looking for another victim.
The sirens were louder now, and the heat from the fire was making him sick to his stomach. It was too much like coming to after the IED explosion and thinking he was going to burn to death. Even though he could still hear someone screaming, he was losing hold on reality. Part of the time, he thought he was the one screaming, and then he heard the voice again.
“Help! I’m here!”
Jake reeled where he stood, then bent over and grabbed on to his knees to keep from losing it.
It’s not me. Focus, damn it. Someone needs help.
The sirens were a constant scream now. Help was imminent. He dropped to his knees and put his hands over his ears, willing that sound to stop, and it wasn’t until he turned his back to the blaze that he was able to see into the darkness.
“Here, I’m here,” a man cried, and lifted a bloody arm into the air.
Jake got to his feet and stumbled toward him.
“Help me,” the man said again, and grabbed Jake’s wrist.
“Where are you hurt, man?” Jake asked.
“My back. I can’t feel my legs,” he said, and then started weeping. “The ones in the other car?”
“They are both alive,” Jake said, and then heard the ambulance arriving. “Help is here. Don’t try to move. I need to tell them where you are. What’s your name?”
“Darrell Ames. I took a wrong road and got lost.”
“Hang tough, Darrell. I’m going to get help.”
Jake got up and ran from the blaze so fast that he startled the firemen on the scene.
“What the hell?” one of them yelled.
“There’s another victim back there,” he yelled, pointing beyond the fire.
The fireman turned and yelled at the EMTs. “You have another vic over here!”
The second ambulance was already pulling up when Jake ran toward the ones already on the scene. He dropped to his knees beside the EMTs and noticed Luke was unconscious.
“Is this your belt?” an EMT asked.
“Yes, it’s all I had.”
“Probably saved his life,” the EMT said.
Luke swiped a shaky hand across his face. “His name is Luke Payne. His wife, Melanie, is over there by the fence. She has head wounds. There’s one more victim on the far side of the fire. He says he can’t feel his legs.”
The EMT grabbed his radio and called in a request for a third ambulance, then divided up the help that was already there. He sent one EMT to Melanie, while two others ran toward the fire to the third victim.
Jake got up and walked away. He was still sick to his stomach, and he wanted to go home, but he’d been first on the scene and needed to stay until the highway patrol arrived so they could take his statement.
He was barely hanging onto sanity as he walked toward his truck to wait. Smoke was in his eyes, and there was a lump in his throat. He’d heard the fear in Darrell’s voice. He might never walk again, and all because he’d lost his way. Jake knew about being lost. It was a damn scary feeling, even for a grown-up.
Jake got into his truck, and the moment he shut the door, the chaos outside became muted and the silence within enveloped him. He saw the big red sticker he’d stuck on the dash and without thinking stroked the surface—right where Laurel’s fingers had been.
He closed his eyes, picturing the smile on her face, the curve of her lips, the gentle way she had of moving through the world, and then thought of the strength in her grip. He wanted to love her, but wouldn’t go there. Anything between them beyond friendship was bound to fail.
One ambulance left, and then the second was about to pull out when the flashing lights of a highway patrol car finally appeared in his rearview mirror.
“Thank you, Lord.”
He took a deep breath and got out of the truck.
* * *
Laurel was exhausted. The fun had long since worn off the event. All she’d been told about the wreck was that two vehicles hit head-on and were burning. She fought tears after that, until finally, another fall festival was over.
Bonnie had fallen asleep on a blanket inside the booth, and Laurel was waiting for Mavis to come get the money from her event so she could leave. When Mavis finally showed up, Laurel handed her the cashbox.
“I didn’t count it, but it’s full,” she said.
“Great news,” Mavis said. “We’ll have a complete accounting by tomorrow. It will be in the next issue of the Blessings Tribune. Thank you for volunteering.”
“My pleasure,” Laurel said. “So, I’m heading home now, okay?”
“Yes, you’re finished,” Mavis said, then eyed Bonnie. “Can I help you get her to the car?”
“I can manage, but thank you,” she said, and proceeded to carry Bonnie out of the gym.
<
br /> She stretched her out in the seat of her truck and then buckled her in before she started home. All the way through town, she kept wondering about the wreck site. It bothered her to think of the possibility of Jake being hurt again, and it bothered her that she cared. Was he already in a hospital bed somewhere, or had he come all this way across the world just to die a few miles from home?
She kept on driving, but the farther she drove, the more anxious she became. She began smelling smoke before she came up on the wreck site. Both vehicles were still there. One was a truck. One was a car. They were both charred and smoldering, and a rural fire truck was still on-site to make sure no fires flared up.
She wanted to stop and ask who’d been in the wreck, but she didn’t have the guts to hear bad news and then try and get her and Bonnie Carol home.
When she came over the hill above the Lorde farm and saw a light on in the house and then saw his truck parked beneath the carport, she burst into tears and cried the rest of the way home.
Chapter 11
Jake didn’t remember the rest of the drive home and was in such a daze that he almost drove past his own house. By the time he got inside, he was shaking. He thought about taking that bottle of tequila to bed, and then opted for a cold shower instead.
Later, he crawled into bed naked and pulled the covers up to his chin. “Please God, help me,” he said, and closed his eyes.
He flashed first on the fire, and then the blood on the victims. He could feel himself falling into the pit where nightmares reigned when another face superimposed over the darkness. Her eyes were gentle, her voice was soft, and she was reaching toward him.
Laurel.
He slept.
* * *
It was morning before Laurel saw the dead dog lying in her front yard. She was getting dressed and had glanced out her bedroom window when she saw it. She sighed. It appeared her in-laws had paid her another visit in the night. They seemed to think that anything dead would remind her of what Adam had done. So one would assume Beverly’s visit in an attempt to make peace had not spread to the rest of the family.
