Shannon readily handed over the sack and watched the woman scurry away as if she held a treasure in her hand instead of a quart of milk, three bananas, a box of crackers and a six-pack of a diet drink. The idea of feeding all these men, women and children was more than Shannon could contemplate.
All over the crowded gym, people were talking quietly together. Others were fighting back tears or sitting silently as if in a state of shock. Most of the men were wearing work clothes, as if they’d been suddenly taken off some job, and the women wore casual summer tops with their slacks or jeans. Shannon felt more out of place than ever in her pale-yellow linen dress and matching designer sandals. Several puzzled glances came her way as she headed to a corner of the gym to sit down in a folding chair.
Announcements over the school’s public address system blared in her ears, but most of the information had no relevance for her since she was unfamiliar with the names of places and people. Although she had a detached sympathy for the milling townspeople around her, she felt alien to them. As the hours passed, she decided that as soon as the roads opened to general traffic, she’d leave the area and forget about losing her three weeks rent on the mountain cottage.
Ward had forgotten all about the attractive blonde in the fancy sports car until later that evening when he brought some supplies to the high school. The place was a madhouse. Growing numbers of evacuated families from threatened and closed areas had poured into Beaver Junction all afternoon, seeking refuge at the school.
A call had gone out for cots, food and supplies, and Ward had made a quick trip to his ranch, located twenty miles up the mountain valley. He and his young ranch hand, Ted Thompson, had stripped the house of some extra cots and brought them to the school.
“You’re God’s own angel, Ward Dawson,” the preacher’s wife, Laura Cozzins, told him with a broad grin on her round face as she accepted his donations.
“That’s what my mother always used to say.” Ward nodded solemnly.
Laura laughed heartily. She was a small woman with greying short hair and a ready twinkle in her hazel eyes. “Glory, glory, we must not be thinking of the same God-loving woman. As much as your parents adored you, Ward, I don’t ever remember them calling you an angel.”
“Ah, come on, now, I wasn’t that bad.”
“No, you weren’t.” She grinned at him. “Just heading down the wrong road. It was a miracle, for sure, the way you made a U-turn when you came back to the ranch to live.” Her smile faded a little. “I know it wasn’t easy for you, but the Lord wasn’t about to cut you free.”
“Yep, He had a lasso on me, for sure,” Ward admitted, remembering how hard he’d fought, trying to follow his destructive godless path in the college town where he’d been working. Both Laura and her husband had been there for him when he’d passed through his Gethsemane three years ago. After his wife, Valerie, had died and left him with an infant daughter to raise, he’d moved with Tara to the family ranch so that his older sister, Beth, could help raise his little girl. Since then, he’d learned to live in the moment and trust divine guidance to take care of the rest.
Ward gave Laura’s plump shoulders a quick hug. “You’re the prettiest gal around. If you weren’t already taken, I’d throw my hat in the ring.”
Laughing, she gave him a playful shove. “Your sweet talking is wasted on me. Now, you and Ted get busy setting up these cots before I think of some more work to keep the two of you out of trouble.”
They had just finished that job when Ward spied the California woman sitting all by herself. Her apparent indifference to the plight of others around her was disappointing but not unfamiliar. When he’d gone off to college, he couldn’t wait to leave home. Like the prodigal son, he’d thrown off all restraints and concern about others. Living campus life to the fullest, he forgot about the firm Christian values in which he’d been raised, and when he’d married his last year in college, it had been without any consideration except that he liked Valerie more than any girl he’d met, and they had a good time together. Her death when Tara was only two had left him emotionally bankrupt, and he’d come home to find himself. He didn’t know what the emptiness in the pretty stranger’s life might be, but he recognized the sign of a soul shut off from its source of peace and happiness.
“Do you know who that young woman is?” he asked his eighteen-year-old ranch hand, who usually had an eye out for any attractive female who wandered into town.
“Nope.” Ted shook his curly black head. “Haven’t seen her before. She must be new around here.”
“I know she’s staying at one of those summer homes on the north ridge,” Ward offered. “She drives a fancy sports car with a California license, but that’s all I know about her.”
Ted grinned. “Well, if you’re interested, boss, there’s only one remedy for that. Go talk to her.”
Ward wasn’t sure that interested was the right word. Curious, perhaps. Responding to Ted’s knowing grin, he took up the challenge. “You know something? I think I will.”
Shannon had stayed pretty much to herself during the long hours of waiting, wandering aimlessly around the school or sitting in a corner of the gym. When she saw Ward coming in her direction, she instantly recognized him. Oh, no, she thought, silently, as he wove his way through the crowd toward her. Now that she understood the scope of the emergency, she was a little ashamed of herself for challenging his authority. Not that she was about to apologize. He’d been secretly laughing at her all the time, and she knew it.
He seemed to know just about everyone. She watched him scoop up a little girl for a quick hug, and a moment later he planted a kiss on the forehead of a grandmotherly lady. An attractive young woman dressed in western pants, a plaid shirt and cowboy boots pushed toward him and said something that made them both laugh. As Ward tweaked her chin in a playful fashion, she looked at him with a soft expression that betrayed a strong affection.
Watching them, Shannon was filled with an emotion she refused to identify as strangely akin to envy. Jerking her eyes in another direction, she scolded herself for being interested in this cowboy’s personal life.
So he had a sweetheart or wife, so what?
“Hello, again.” He greeted her with a warm familiarity as he suddenly stood in front of her. “I see you found the school all right.”
Looking into his tanned face with its high cheekbones, firm straight nose and strong jawline, she was terribly aware of how much she wanted to mend fences with him. But she was equally determined to show him she wasn’t some whimpering damsel in distress.
“It was a challenge,” she answered lightly. “But I managed not to get lost.”
“I suspect you always know where you’re going.”
“Yes, I do,” she answered. If he was trying to get a rise out of her, she wasn’t going for the bait. “I’ve heard rumors that the wind has shifted, and the roads might be opened in the morning.”
He nodded. “Could be. I guess it depends on whether things stay the same during the night.”
“And if they do?” she asked hopefully.
“Well, I reckon that they’ll give the okay for people who live in the area to pay a quick visit to their homes. Most of them didn’t have time to bring very much with them when they were ordered to vacate.” He sobered. “It’s not easy to decide what’s important when you’re under that kind of pressure.”
“Are you one of the displaced?” she asked, wondering if he was personally involved or just volunteering to police the road.
“Nope, I’m one of the lucky ones. My ranch is farther up the valley. God willing, we’ll be spared.”
When he said, we, she glanced at his ring finger. No gold band. Feminine curiosity made her wonder who the young woman was