Through the Fire

by Christine Lynxwiler

  When she unlocked the back door and stepped into her shop, a surge of determination rushed through her. The cottage she’d rented was gone, as were most of her possessions, but this shop—her dream—was still here. Even after last night’s loss, somehow, with God’s help, she would make a go of this. The independence that came with running her own flower shop was a dream worthy of sacrifice.

  But if she didn’t clean herself up, she’d scare the customers away and kill her own dream. One glance in the bathroom mirror pulled a gasp from her lungs. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her face and clothes were covered in soot. She washed up as best she could and changed clothes but decided her hair would have to wait until after the shop closed. She tucked it up under a bright yellow cap with a smiley face on the front of it. Nothing like putting on a happy face—literally. Just as she finished dressing, she heard Doris’s key in the door.

  She hated to jump straight in with the news of her cabin burning, so she settled for “Hi.”

  “Jessa! Are you okay?” Doris’s face was tight with concern.

  “I’m fine. I just look—” Her words were cut off as Doris crossed the room and enfolded her in a hug.

  “I’ve been praying ever since Paul got the call.”

  “Your husband?”

  “Yes. He’s a volunteer fireman. We heard the news over his radio at three o’clock.” The normally composed woman looked as though she might burst into tears any second.

  “Doris, thank you so much. I really am fine, but I look—”

  “You look exhausted. I didn’t know how to reach you. So I just came on in and hoped I’d hear from you.”

  Jessa grinned. Doris had said more in the past minute than she had in the two weeks she’d been working with her. “Well, here I am. If you think you can handle things, though, I’m going to fix me a pallet in the back room and lie down for a while. I’ll be up by the afternoon rush.” She glanced at her feet and wiggled her toes. “I won’t have any shoes though, unless you count the slippers I wore out of the fire, so I’ll have to stay behind the counter.”

  “Oh, dear. Don’t give this old shop another thought. I know how to run it just fine.” She guided Jessa into the back. “Holler if you need me.” She shut the door.

  Jessa stared at the closed door and chuckled. Why did she feel rejected? She knew Doris was trying to be helpful, but Jessa’s adrenaline was pumping at the abrupt dismissal. She stomped out to the car and retrieved the pillow and sleeping bag from the trunk. When she got her pallet made, she tossed and turned for an hour before finally dozing off to sleep.

  ❧

  “Jessa?”

  She rubbed her eyes and looked up at Doris. “Is it lunch-time already?”

  “Actually, it’s closing time. I just locked the door.” Doris nodded toward the tiny table and chair in the corner. “I asked Seth to pick up a sandwich and some chips for you. Speaking of Seth, he has one more delivery to do when he gets back from this one. Since you were going to be here to let him in, I thought I’d go on home.”

  Jessa sat up. “Great. Thanks, Doris.”

  “No problem. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  “Not yet. I’m probably going to stay here for a few days.”

  “In the shop?” Her incredulous words so closely echoed Clint’s that Jessa felt her defenses rising.

  “Yes, for a few days,” she repeated. “Until I figure out what I’m going to do.”

  “You know. . .” Doris’s voice softened. “Amy’s in college, and Paul and I have that empty bedroom.”

  “I appreciate it, Doris. I really do. I’m going to stay here, but thanks for such a generous offer.”

  “If you change your mind, just let me know.”

  “Okay.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief as Doris left. Her motherly attitude was sweet, but sometimes it drove Jessa crazy. She’d been smothered with concern enough to last a lifetime.

  She clamored to her feet and stretched her arms to the ceiling. “Oomph.” A sore place in her back grabbed her. She rolled her shoulders to relax her tense muscles. Could she feel any worse if she’d been run over by a truck? But what had she expected when she made her bed on the thinly carpeted concrete floor? Sweet dreams?

  Remembering the McFaddens’ kind invitation, as well as Doris’s, Jessa grimaced. Independence was wonderful, but it wasn’t very cushiony.

  A knock sounded at the back door, and Jessa hobbled over to answer. “Who is it?”

  “Seth.”

  When the teen saw Jessa, he ran one hand over his crew cut and whistled. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” The cap had slipped off in her stretching, and since she was alone, she hadn’t replaced it. No wonder the boy looked a little frightened. She quickly put it on.

  “I’m sorry about your cabin.” His eyes darkened with an emotion Jessa couldn’t pinpoint. “It’s tough not having somewhere to stay.”

  “I’m going to stay here for a few days.”

  “Here?” His face looked troubled.

  “Yeah, but it’ll be fine. So this is your last delivery today?”

  “Yep. Mrs. Grantham’s nephew ordered flowers for her birthday.”

  “She’s in Garrington Manor where Evelyn and Ruby live, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you see Ruby much?” Evelyn had mentioned that the boy was completely devoted to her sister, who had hired him for deliveries when he was barely old enough to pull a red wagon.

  Seth’s face turned red, but he nodded. “Every day.”

  “That’s wonderful. I know she appreciates it.”

  His face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he mumbled something unintelligible.

  Jessa had almost forgotten how sensitive teens could be. He must have been embarrassed that she realized he cared about Ruby.

  She sat at the table and ate her sandwich while he went into the front and retrieved the arrangement.

  “See you tomorrow,” she called as he went out the door.

  She thought she heard a grunt in answer, but she wasn’t even sure of that. She threw the deadbolt behind him and turned her attention toward her sandwich.

  As she finished the last bite, a knock sounded on the door again. Sure Seth had forgotten something, she flipped the deadbolt and yanked it open. Someday, she’d learn not to assume she knew who was at the door. Just as he had her first day, when she’d thought Evelyn had forgotten something, Clint McFadden filled the doorway. This time, though, he grinned broadly, a bag tossed over his shoulder like Santa.

  ❧

  Clint chuckled at the surprised expression on Jessa’s face. With the baseball cap on and freckles playing across her nose, she looked about twelve. “Expecting someone else?”

  “Actually, yes. I thought my delivery boy had forgotten something.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “No.” Her face turned red. “Well, not that I would have been disappointed—oh, never mind.”

  Clint watched the play of emotions across her face as she struggled to answer his trick question. He’d teased her without thinking.

  The phone rang and Jessa jumped, then smiled. “Saved by the bell. Just a minute.”

  As she disappeared into the front room to answer the phone, Clint maneuvered the bag he’d brought inside and shut the door. He shifted from one foot to the other as Jessa’s voice drifted back to him.

  “Yes, I’m getting settled in.”

  Clint leaned against the wall. If the caller was someone close to Jessa, he’d be here for a while if they didn’t know about the fire yet.

  “The shop is doing well. Um, yes, we just closed. Of course I sound tired. I told you about our monthlong Grand Opening celebration, didn’t I? Well, today was the last day.”

  After a few more generic phrases, she ended the call with an “I love you, too, and tell all the family the same.”

  When she walked back in and saw him standing there, he could tell she’d forgotten his prese
nce for a minute.

  “Oh.” An unspoken You’re still here hung in the air. “Sorry, that was my mom.”

  “You didn’t tell her about the fire?” He kept his tone deliberately soft so that she wouldn’t think he was condemning her.

  “No.” Her face grew red. “I didn’t see any reason to worry them.”

  Clint knew his family was unusual in their closeness, and even they had been known to keep secrets, but he was pretty sure if one of them lost all their belongings and almost lost their lives in a fire, he’d know about it within two or three hours of the catastrophe. Clint’s mind raced back to Jessa’s words after the fire—“My family will think it’s my fault.”

  Apparently she had her own reasons for not telling her family. “My mom sent you some stuff.” He handed her the large black garbage bag his mother had packed so carefully. “I’m not sure what’s in there, but there are some clothes, I know. She said you were about her size.”

  Jessa nodded. “Thanks.” She pulled her cap bill down a little farther, then motioned over her shoulder. “I’d invite you in, but there’s not really a place to sit.”

  Clint looked at the rumpled pallet on the floor. He knew she was barely short of closing the door on him, but he was reluctant to leave her here alone in the tiny room. “Mom and Dad have a huge guest room. They would love for you to stay with them. Mom thinks you’re great.”

  “I think she’s pretty wonderful, too, but I’d better just stay here. Thanks, though.” Her smile was a little forced.

  “Have it your way. If you need anything, give me a call.”

  “I will. Thanks again. And tell your mom thanks for the clothes.”

  “No problem.” Clint closed the door behind him and walked slowly to his Jeep. How could one tiny woman be so stubbornly independent?

  Six

  Jessa took the last item out of the bag and laid it on the table, then sank down into the chair. Tears burned her eyes. When she’d seen the black garbage bag in Clint’s hand, she’d gratefully expected a hodgepodge of old clothes and possibly even a pair of shoes. What she’d gotten instead was manna from heaven.

  Five outfits suitable for wearing to work were folded neatly together on top. A green short set and a pair of comfortable-looking jeans and a button-up shirt were next, followed by two pairs of pumps and a pair of new-looking white tennis shoes. And discreetly tucked together were pajamas and four sets of undergarments. Amazingly, everything was her size.

  To her delight, beneath the clothes, an overnight case revealed shampoo, conditioner, a new toothbrush, toothpaste, and a variety of makeup and toiletry items. She’d planned to deplete her petty cash and run down to the discount store before it closed at nine, but she would be able to stay at the shop and wash her hair instead. Even a hairdryer and curling iron were included.

  When Jessa took out the overnight case and four bath towels and washcloths below it, a few lumps were still left in the plastic bag. Inside were three Christian fiction books she’d been eager to read. The last lump in the bag was a Bible. When Jessa opened the black leather cover, the handwritten inscription took her breath away.

  To Jessa, who believes in new beginnings and has the courage to make them happen.

  With love, The McFaddens

  In the few conversations she’d had with Elaine at church, Jessa had apparently revealed more of herself than she realized. Although where Elaine had gotten the idea that she had courage, she couldn’t imagine. It must be positive thinking on the older woman’s part. Sort of an “if you think it, it will be true” idea.

  Still smiling at the encouraging words, she stood and looked at her pile of treasures on the table. Now to get the place organized. A quick search revealed a small unused shelf under the counter in the main room of the shop. She dragged the wobbly frame into the back and dusted the plastic surface before stacking her new clothes on it. When she put her toiletries in the bathroom, one look at the short, small sink confirmed there was no way she could bend over and wash her hair in it.

  She grabbed the shampoo, conditioner, and a towel and carried them to the big sink built into the counter. The deep sink would be perfect for shampooing her hair.

  After her hair was scrubbed clean and dry, Jessa changed into the pajamas Elaine had sent and plopped down on her sleeping bag with one of the books. The shop phone rang, and she jerked aright. Who would be calling here at this hour?

  She hurried into the front and snatched up the receiver. “Flower Basket.”

  “You don’t belong there.” The caller’s voice rattled like gravel, but it was impossible to tell if it was a man or a woman.

  “This is The Flower Basket,” she repeated.

  A loud click resounded in her ear, followed by the dial tone. She stared at the receiver, her mind racing. Had it been a random call? Or had the message been for her? She shivered. She hung up the phone and with her hand still on it, murmured a prayer both for herself and the caller.

  She tiptoed through the darkened front room of the shop and touched the deadbolt and lock to be sure they were thrown. Satisfied the front was secure, she checked the back door as well.

  Still rattled, but feeling more secure, she forced herself to lie down with her book again. An hour later her eyes began to grow heavy, so she turned off the light and lay in the darkness. Even with the hard bed, cramped quarters, and unsettling phone call, she had a heart full of thanks to pour out to God before drifting off to sleep.

  ❧

  “Clint?”

  At the sight of the stranger, the yellow pup skittered behind Clint’s legs, tangling the leash around him.

  “Yes.” He stepped out of the twisted line and looked questioningly at the smiling man who’d sought him out midmorning in his parents’ backyard.

  The man stuck out his hand. “Don Morgan, Lakehaven fire chief. We spoke briefly at the cabin fire the other night. But between it being dark and me not being in uniform today, I didn’t figure you’d remember me.”

  Clint shook his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t. What can I do for you?” He wondered for a second if the department suspected arson in the cabin fire. Jessa said they’d told her it was definitely old wiring, but why else would the fire chief come to see him?

  “I wanted to thank you.” He nodded across the lake in the general direction of Jessa’s cabin. “You made our job a lot easier the other night.”

  “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

  “And you just happened to know what to do. I understand you’re a firefighter.”

  Clint gripped the leash handle so tightly that it cut into his hand. “Not anymore.”

  “We never have a shortage of boys who think being a ‘fireman’ sounds glamorous and exciting. But we could use an experienced firefighter like you in the department.”

  “I’m sorry, but you’ve got the wrong man.”

  The fire chief nodded. “If you say so.” He glanced up toward the house. “Your dad sure bragged on you while you were down there in Little Rock.” He clapped his big hand on Clint’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’d consider ourselves lucky to have you.”

  Clint kicked at the ground with the toe of his boot and met the man’s all-too-understanding eyes. “I appreciate it, but I’m not interested.”

  “I understand. Let me know if you change your mind.” To his credit, Chief Morgan appeared to be a man who knew when to stop. He disappeared as quickly as he’d come.

  Clint sank to the ground and scooped up a handful of pebbles. He tossed one into the lake and watched the small circle grow.

  In the great scheme of things, did God throw the rock? Or did He just control the ripples once they were in play? In spite of the bitter taste in Clint’s mouth, he couldn’t even consider a third possibility—that God turned his back on the rock throwing and let whatever happened happen.

  Clint threw the remaining handful of pebbles in the water at once.

  The pup beside him yelped.

  “S
orry, buddy.” Clint ruffled the hair on the dog’s head and pushed to his feet. “If I’ve worried Dad enough for him to sic the fire chief on me, it’s time for me to get a job.”

  He left the puppy barking anxiously in the apartment and hurried to his Jeep. The sooner he found work, the sooner his family would quit hounding him about going back into firefighting.

  As he headed toward the town center, he realized that the nearest newspaper box wasn’t far from The Flower Basket. He should probably stop in and see how Jessa managed sleeping on the floor last night. He shook his head at her stubbornness.

  His mom hadn’t seemed discouraged by Jessa’s refusal to stay at their house. “Everyone has to come to terms with things in their own time,” she’d said. He’d wondered if she was partly letting him know that they understood his need for time.

  As he cruised slowly down the road, he glanced at the Tri-Lake Security office. In some brochures, the town of Lake-haven boasted five lakes, but only three were big enough to be recognized as official lakes. Tri-Lake Security patrolled around those three, including Lake Millicent, where Clint’s parents lived. A large Help Wanted sign obscured most of their window. Clint slowed to a stop.

  The bored blond at the desk handed him an application. “Fill it out here or take it home. ’Sup to you.”

  Clint sat in the vinyl chair and balanced the clipboard on the aluminum arm. He filled out the blanks quickly, signed the release for a background check, and handed it back.

  She looked up as though surprised he was still there. “Oh, okay, I’ll give that to John when he comes in.”

  Clint nodded, relieved that he’d taken one step toward the future.

  Within minutes, he was pulling into the parking lot at The Flower Basket. A middle-aged woman with a sweet smile greeted him when he entered.

  “Is Jessa here?” he asked, suddenly feeling foolish. Why would she want to see him? The last time they’d talked, she hadn’t been exactly friendly.

  Just as the woman opened her mouth to answer, Jessa stepped through the doorway. She was wearing green, and her eyes sparkled to match it. Her ponytail bounced as she walked over to him. “Clint, I was just thinking about you,” she said with a smile.