“Shannon Hensley. Thanks, but I’ve decided to leave as soon as the main road opens, whether I can get my belongings from the rented cottage or not.” Where she would go was another question, but she knew she wanted to see the last of Beaver Junction as quickly as possible.
“And you’ll be heading back to California?”
“No. Not right away,” she said, smothering a sigh. It was ironic, really, that she was sitting in a crowded gym with a bunch of homeless people and had no idea what she should do next. She’d spent a month applying to every high-tech company on the West Coast without even getting a nibble for a new position. She’d temporarily rented her expensive beachfront apartment, left her résumé with several employment agencies and made arrangements to come to Colorado to spend some quiet time. She wasn’t about to admit to this stranger that she was without home, family or close friends. “I haven’t made up my mind exactly where I’ll go.”
Her voice was firm enough, but Ward could see the shadow of worry in her attractive eyes, which seemed to constantly change colours from gray to smoky blue. She was wearing a dress in a shade of yellow that brought out sun-bleached highlights in her hair, and in his opinion, her figure was as eye-catching as any pictured on the cover of a woman’s magazine. Why would such a California beauty end up alone in a place like Beaver Junction, he asked himself? He would have thought that fancy resorts in Aspen or Vail would be more her style.
“Do you need to let your family or anyone know that you’re all right?” he asked, in an obvious attempt to learn more about her personal background.
“No, there’s no one,” she replied quickly. “Since my parents died, I only have one aunt I communicate with once in a while. Thank you, but I can handle this situation nicely by myself.”
Her lovely chin jutted out at a belligerent angle, and he hid a smile. There was something of a stubborn child about her that both appealed to him and irritated him. “There’s no need to be afraid—”
“I’m not afraid.” She flared at the insinuation. “I just want to get out of this place as quickly as I can. One night cooped up here with all these people will be all I can take.”
“I see. Well, good night then,” he said politely. Her apparent indifference to the plight of others around her sparked the urge to handle her the way he would a stubborn mare. It was a good thing she wasn’t going to be around long enough for a battle of wills.
Left alone, Shannon had a moment of regret that she hadn’t kept him talking to her. Nobody else had tried to strike up a conversation with her all afternoon. She knew they were caught up in the perils of their situation, and even though she sympathized with their worries and anguish, she wasn’t up to all the commotion and crush of humanity crowded together, breathing the same air and having no privacy. The whole situation was some kind of unbelievable nightmare.
As Shannon’s eyes followed Ward’s tall figure across the gym, she saw him stop to talk to a plump, gray-haired woman. During their conversation, the woman nodded, and her gaze darted in Shannon’s direction. Shannon was positive they were talking about her.
She stiffened. What was Ward Dawson telling the woman? How dare he repeat any of their conversation? She knew then that she shouldn’t have revealed so much about her family situation and indefinite plans. Shannon began simmering. She was an outsider, and fair game for the rumor mills. She could imagine what fun the small-town gossips would have speculating about her private affairs.
Shannon braced herself when Ward left the gym, and the woman to whom he’d been talking made her way purposefully toward her. Shannon knew then that her suspicions had been right.
“Hi, I’m Laura Cozzins, the reverend’s wife,” the woman said, introducing herself in a friendly, breezy manner that matched the smile on her broad face. “Sorry I haven’t had time to say hello before now. Ward told me he’s a friend of yours and that you’d love to help us in the cafeteria. We’ll be setting out some food pretty soon now, and I’m grateful that you’ve volunteered to help.”
Volunteered to help? Shannon was speechless and utterly aghast at the number of lies Ward Dawson had squeezed into one sentence. He wasn’t a friend, nothing had been said about her helping, and she hadn’t volunteered for anything.
“Come on, dear, and I’ll show where the kitchen is.” Laura smiled at Shannon. “We’ve really got our hands full. The Red Cross ladies are doing all they can, but more displaced families are arriving all the time. Two more hands will be a great help, and God bless you for offering to help.”
Shannon managed a weak smile. Telling the preacher’s wife the truth would have been too embarrassing under the circumstances. She rose to her feet and followed the preacher’s wife into a hot, crowded kitchen.
For the next two hours, Shannon cut up a gigantic mound of potatoes for French fries, cooked them in boiling oil, then served them to a seemingly never-ending line of refugees.
She was hot, sweating and had aching muscles by the time all the stranded families had finished eating. When it was time for the volunteer help to sit down at the tables, Shannon had little appetite left. Ignoring the food that had been prepared, she searched the kitchen and found one of the bananas that had been in her confiscated grocery sack.
Like a fugitive escaping, she slipped out the kitchen door. Outside the building, a night breeze bathed her perspiring face with blessed relief. A faint glow on the far horizon marred the dark night sky, and the cool air was tinged with the odor of burned wood. As she walked around the building, eating her banana and enjoying the blessing of being alone, she prayed that the wind was blowing the fire back on itself.
She didn’t see the small figure on the sidewalk ahead of her until she heard a childish voice calling in a whisper.
“Pokey! Pokey, where are you?”
As she came closer she saw a little boy about four years old standing in the middle of the walk. When he heard Shannon’s footsteps, he turned quickly and came running up to her.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, seeing his tear-streaked face.
“Have you seen my puppy dog? His name is Pokey. He’s black with white paws, and not very big.”
“No, I’m sorry, I haven’t,” she said gently. “Did he get loose?”
“We left him behind. He didn’t come when Mama called. She said we couldn’t wait to find him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Shannon said. Pokey must have lived up to his name one too many times, and had been left behind. Even though she’d never had any pets of her own, she could certainly sympathize with the loss of one. She felt the youngster’s anguish and tried to console him as best she could.
“I’m sure he’ll be all right,” Shannon said, not really being sure about anything at the moment.
“I know Pokey would find me if…if he knew where I was.”
“He’s probably just waiting for you to come back home.”
“When can we go home?” the child sobbed, asking the question that was in both their minds. “I want to go home now.”
“I know.” She brushed a shock of brown hair from his forehead.
“I don’t like it here.”
Me, neither, Shannon added silently.
She spoke with more conviction than she felt. “I’m sure they’ll have the fire put out soon. Now, we’d better go inside. Your mother will be looking for you.”
Even as she spoke, they could hear a woman’s strident voice calling, “Kenny. Kenny. Where are you?”
Shannon took the child’s hand and led him to a worried and anxious young mother.
“Oh, thank God,” she breathed. “You scared the living daylights out of me,