Love Inspired November 2014 #2 (17 page)

“I'll be a good patient from here on in, Doc. I promise.” He folded his hands on his lap, trying to look penitent. “Where do we go from here?”

Dr. Craig picked up a chart and began writing. “I can't cast you—the swelling hasn't gone down sufficiently. I'm sending you for X-rays. We'll change the dressing on that wound and then see what the X-rays tell us. You might get lucky, but I think you should be prepared for the possibility of surgery tomorrow morning.” He put the brace back on, which made Jesse wince. “When was your last dose of painkillers?”

Jesse had yearned to swallow a double dose the moment he woke up from his nap earlier. The twenty minutes it took for the stuff to kick in felt almost longer than the wait for Charlotte to pull into Gordon Falls last night. This morning. Had it all really just happened? He felt as if he'd lived a year in the space of those hours. “Six this morning. I'm due. Believe me, I'm due.”

George padded the pocket of his windbreaker. “I've got 'em right here.”

“I'll have the nursing assistant bring you some water when she comes in to change the bandage. You'll want them—the boys in radiology aren't known for their tender touch.” He closed the chart. “I'll see you back here afterward and we'll talk about next steps.”

“Okay, Doc.” Jesse tried to look cooperative and hopeful, but it was hard with his leg screaming at him. In five minutes he'd down those capsules without water if that nurse hadn't shown up yet. The pain—and his doubts—were beginning to make it hard to keep his trademark humor.

As the examining room door closed, George pulled his cell phone from his pocket and began tapping with youthful speed. “Time to call the cavalry.” The former chief had taken to texting with enthusiasm; he sent more “Gexts”—as the firehouse had come to call the numerous electronic check-ins the man was prone to send—than most of the teenagers Jesse knew.

“Huh?”

“Church.”

He'd heard stories about the ladies of GFCC swooping in to care for people, but he wasn't sure casseroles were what he needed right now. “You don't need to do that.”

George kept typing. “Oh, yes, I do. We need to pray that leg into cooperation. We want those X-rays to show you haven't hurt yourself further by what you did last night. That's going to take prayer.”

This was foreign territory. People praying for him? Him praying for himself? For Charlotte? The world had tilted in new directions overnight, and Jesse still wasn't quite sure how to take it all in. “Um...okay...I guess.” It probably was going to take divine intervention to keep him off the operating table. “I'll be okay, though, if I have to go under.” He rubbed his eyes, reaching for a way to explain his foggy thoughts. He looked at George. “I mean, it was worth it.”

One end of George's mouth turned up in a knowing grin. “I agree. But I'm still lighting up the prayer chain for that leg of yours. After all, you're part of the church now.”

He was part of a church. Jesse waited for that to feel odd, or forced, but it just sort of sank into his chest like a deep breath. “I guess I am. Not such a bad thing, is it?”

George's grin turned into a wide smile that took over the old man's entire features. “Best thing there is.”

Chapter Nineteen

C
harlotte found her way to the kitchen, hoping for a cup of steaming tea to face what was left of the day.

“Hey there.” Melba looked up from feeding Maria. “They prayed for both you and Jesse at service this morning. Feeling better?”

Charlotte walked over to the sink and began filling the kettle. Did she even have a teakettle at the cottage anymore? What kind of person has a life that destroys two teakettles in so short a time? “Not really. Less exhausted, but now I feel like I have twice as many thoughts slamming through my head.” She sat down at the table opposite Melba and Maria. They looked so peaceful and happy.

“You'll be okay, Charlotte. You know that, don't you?”

She ran her hands through her hair. Even with a long hot shower, Charlotte felt as though she still smelled of smoke. “It's a little hard to see today.”

“Maybe today's not a good judge of everything. Clark says it takes two days for the shock to wear off, longer for some people.” She looked at Charlotte with such warmth in her eyes. “You can stay here for as long as you need to. Really.”

Charlotte knew she meant it, but Melba and Clark had played host to her long enough. She didn't want to stay any longer than absolutely necessary. They deserved to be a family on their own again. “Thanks. I know I need a few days to get my feet underneath me, but I've still got my place in Chicago.”

That wiped the warmth from Melba's eyes. “I hate the thought of you being back there. I hate the idea of you going to Vermont even more. I know it's selfish of me, but I really feel like you belong here. Even with everything that's happened.”

Charlotte didn't have an answer. Her brain felt far too clouded to think. She was grateful the kettle's whistle gave her something to fill the silence.

Melba settled Maria on her shoulder and began patting the baby's back to burp her. “You want to tell me what happened with Jesse last night? And don't say nothing, because it's all over both of your faces, not to mention what Clark told me last night.”

Turning to her friend, Charlotte asked, “What did Clark tell you?”

“That Jesse went crazy with worry when the call came and they realized it was your cottage. That he ignored the doctor's orders and walked to the scene because Clark had already left. That he was frantic to know you were okay, and it was all the guys could do to keep him from trying to help.”

Mo, who had thankfully made fast friends with Melba's cat, Pinocchio, darted into the room to weave his way around Charlotte's legs as she set the tea to steeping.

“And that he hobbled around the neighborhood calling for Mo when no one was found in the house.” Melba stood up and walked over to Charlotte. “That man has it bad for you. And you have it bad for him.”

“It's just that after the display at the talent show, and all he said about not wanting to get serious with any one woman—well, he didn't come right out and say that, but it wasn't hard to guess—I didn't know if I could trust his charm. I don't want to be dazzled.”

“But he's gotten to you, and he cares about you—a lot, obviously. I know it's not perfect, but do you really want to walk away from that?”

“
And
he's a firefighter. I know that's okay for you, but—”

“And then there's the whole faith thing, and that's big, too—especially now that he's made the first steps, from what I've heard.”

“That's just it. Those things are sort of working themselves out. And for the first part...what he told me, the way he treated me last night at the fire, you can't fake that. His heart is true, I know that now. Only, is that really enough?” She told Melba the entire story of Jesse's night, how he'd come to terms with the God she knew had been pursuing him since the night of the talent show. “It wasn't really God Jesse was resisting, it was his preconceptions of church and judgment. His father's been putting him down for years. That made it hard for him to grasp a Father who loves unconditionally, you know?” She remembered him holding her in the destroyed kitchen, singing a gospel song she'd never heard before but now felt engraved on her heart. What could be a deeper truth than that? “He has such a huge heart, Melba. It's been aching for grace for so long.”

Melba started to get mugs down from the cabinet, only to stop and look straight at Charlotte. “Do you think you're in love with him?”

Charlotte leaned against the counter, squinting her eyes shut for a moment. “Shouldn't I
know
if I'm in love with him?”

“I think it slams some people clearly like that, but I think more often it is something that slowly takes shape. Like knitting with a striped yarn—sometimes you don't see what it really looks like until you get further along.”

“The attraction is certainly there.” Charlotte thought of the head-spinning serenade that had made it hard to breathe back at the talent show. “The man knows how to sweep me off my feet, Melba, but just because he can doesn't make him the right man for me.” She poured the tea into the pair of mugs Melba set on the counter. “You know how impulsive I am. Vermont was going to give me the space to think about this. Maybe it still should.”

“Are you running to or running from?”

“What?”

“It's something Clark always says. About jogging or even guys at a fire. People rarely get hurt running to something, but they often injure themselves running
from
something. If you go to Vermont, are you running to what could be a good job or running away from what could be a good man?”

Melba had managed to boil the whole storm of Charlotte's thoughts down to one piercing question. Was she really enthused about Borroughs's offer, or was it just an escape from facing the scary prospect of loving a man who risked his life for others? “I don't know. I don't even know how to figure it out.”

“Maybe that's why you ought to talk to Abby Reed this afternoon. She's coming by in an hour if you're feeling up to it.”

“Abby?” Abby had a reputation as a notorious matchmaker. If she'd taken Jesse on as her newest project, Charlotte didn't see how she'd lend any clarity to the situation. “What's she got to do with any of this?”

Melba's smile was sweet but a little secretive. “I think you'd better hear that from Abby herself. I'm going to go put Maria down for her nap. Why don't you go sit on the deck and just relax for a while. It's a beautiful day, and you need all the doses of fresh air you can get.”

The next thing Charlotte knew, someone was gently tapping her on the shoulder as she lay slouched in one of Melba's back deck lounge chairs. She forced her eyes open. “I must have dozed off.”

“I'll bet you needed a nap.” Abby Reed sat down on the chair opposite Charlotte, a kind smile on her face and a bag of chocolate-covered caramels in her hands. “I know chocolate doesn't make everything better, but it makes most things better.”

Charlotte sat up and accepted the bag, reaching in for one of the sweets. “I guess it pays to be good friends with the candy lady.”

“Jeannie wants to help in any way she can. She's been through a fire, too, you know. She lost everything a while back, and she knows how it can pull the rug out from underneath you.”

“I keep trying to remember I haven't lost everything, but it still feels like I have. There's soot over everything.” She smoothed her hair out, thinking she probably looked like a mess today. “The fire was my fault, you know—food that I left in the oven and forgot about. I've made such a mess of things with my own stupidity. I used to think of myself as such a clever person.”

“You're still a clever person. You're just a clever person in a tight spot. We've all been there. Gordon Falls is full of people who are great helps in tight spots.”

Charlotte knew that. She could feel the pull of Gordon Falls's tight-knit community calling to her even before her house filled with smoke. “I'm not going to end up with a refrigerator full of church-lady casseroles, am I?” She winced. “I don't think I even have a working fridge anymore, much less a stove to heat them in.”

Abby laughed. “You might. GFCC is good at crisis management with food. It's a universal church thing, I think. Jeannie will tell you one of the blessings of a crisis is all the help that comes to your side. I know it may not feel like it this morning, but I'm sure you'll come out of this fine.”

“I'm not so sure.”

“Then I'd have another caramel if I were you.”

No one had to twist Charlotte's arm. When the delicious, sticky confection allowed her to talk again, she prompted, “Melba said you had something you wanted to talk to me about?”

Abby settled her hands on her lap. “I've had an idea for a while now, and before last night I was going to wait until the fall. Now I think I shouldn't wait. Charlotte, I'd like to ask you to consider running a new shop for me. I want to expand the store to open a full yarn and fabric shop in the space next to mine. I'm looking to knock the wall out between the stores and create two connected spaces—one dedicated to gifts and art, the other for crafting. Only I can't run the both of them—really, I don't want to. When Ben finally moves out, I don't want to spend my newly earned free time behind a cash register or in a stock room.”

Charlotte's brain struggled to comprehend what she was hearing. “You want me to work for you? Open up a yarn shop next to your store?”

“I'd thought of it more as a partnership, but that was further down the road. I figure that's a bit much to take on right now. I'd mentioned it to Melba a while ago—just as an inkling I'd had when you first said something about job hunting at the knitting group—but when she told at church this morning that you were considering going to New Hampshire or wherever it was, I had a long talk with God about whether I might need to speed up my time frame.”

“Vermont,” Charlotte clarified, and then thought that was a stupid thing to say. She blinked and ran her hands down her face, reaching for a focus that she couldn't quite attain. “Not that it matters.” She straightened up, planting her feet on the ground as if that would help. “You're serious? You're offering me a job? Here?”

“There are probably lots of details to iron out, but yes. I want you to know you have an option to stay here if you want to. I'm not at all sure I can match whatever you were making at Monarch, but—”

“I want to stay here,” Charlotte cut in. She blinked again. “I don't think I even realized how much until just this moment. I don't want to go to Vermont.” She held Abby's gaze, feeling a bit dizzy. “Thank you. I'm sure we can figure something out.”

Abby's smile told Charlotte this was no pity offer, this was God at work, moving things to His perfect timing. “I'm sure, too. After all, we both know you are a very clever person.”

* * *

Charlotte was sitting on his front steps by the time George pulled into Jesse's driveway. Jesse was glad to see a little more of the old Charlotte back in her eyes. That smile did more for him than all those painkillers.

“Well now, look who's waiting to take over nurse duties,” George teased as he pulled the crutches out of his backseat while Jesse opened the passenger door. “Toss me your keys, son, and I'll get your front door open while you say hello to the lady.”

Charlotte ran a hand down Jesse's cheek, and he felt his whole body settle at her touch. “Hello, you.”

He leaned up and gave her a small but soft kiss to her cheek. She smelled just-showered; clean and flowery. It was like fresh air compared to the disinfectant-soaked doctors' rooms. “Hello to you, too.” He stood up and tilted his head close to hers, closing his eyes and stealing another breath. “You smell amazing, do you know that?”

He felt her smile against his cheek. “Flattery just might get you better nursing care.” She pulled away to eye him. “How'd it go?”

He'd have to tell her sometime, might as well get it over with on the front sidewalk. “Not well.”

Alarm darkened her features. “What do you mean?”

He started making his way carefully to the front door. “I messed my leg up pretty badly. I'm going to need surgery. I have to be at the hospital tomorrow morning at some cruel hour.” He tried to keep the anger out of his voice, but her eyes told him he hadn't been successful. George's “prayer warriors,” as he called them, hadn't won this particular battle.

“Surgery? Oh, Jesse.”

Somehow the worry in her voice just made it worse. Weren't church people supposed to get happy endings from God? His twenty-four-hour venture into faith wasn't going very well, even though George had spouted some platitudes about God still being in control. “I'm more of a Motown guy than a heavy-metal one, but it seems I'm going to get chrome-plated tomorrow. I get fifteen whole hours at home before I have to report for surgery.” The further he got into his explanation, the less it seemed worth the effort to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

“I'm sorry. I know that's not what you wanted.” She hugged her arms. “You should never have stayed out there waiting for me.”

He stopped, nearly losing one crutch in his effort to grab her elbow. “I don't regret it. Don't you think that for a second, Charlotte. I'm just mad I didn't get a clean getaway, that's all.”

“You're going to be okay,” she offered, even though she had no way of knowing that was true.

He simply nodded, not having a good comeback for that one.

Once they got him settled on his couch, George ticked off a list of instructions to Charlotte and bid goodbye with a promise to visit Jesse tomorrow at the hospital. “Make sure he calls his folks,” George ordered on his way out the door.

Charlotte pulled an ottoman up to the couch. “Want me to get your cell phone?”