“You’re sure?” Early asked. “I mean, we don’t want him to take another swing at you.” He paused. “Or you at him.”
Sam stared at him without comment, and Early finally stepped back. “We’ll wait nearby. Just in case.”
“It’s taken care of,” Sam assured him. “But thank you just the same.”
The men left by the side door. Sam was fairly sure they would continue to hover there.
Elisa and Leon reached him. Sam spoke before they could. “He took a swing at me, stumbled and fell.”
Elisa stooped and put her fingertips against George’s throat. Then gently—and what looked like thoroughly—she probed the back of his head, his neck and shoulders, running her hands down his arms, then over his back and legs, in a manner he could only term professional. For a moment Sam had the oddest desire to be George, passed out cold on the social hall floor.
She got to her feet. “No obvious injuries. How hard did he hit his head when he fell?”
“He stumbled and pitched forward. He wasn’t standing tall. I think he more or less caught himself. Then he just...dissolved.” He paused. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“What?”
“That kind of examination.”
“I worked at a bar in El Paso. There were a lot of fights.”
“Is he going to be all right?” Leon asked.
“I think he’s going to have un grandísimo dolor de cabeza.” She sighed. “One big headache. Mostly from the liquor.”
George punctuated her words with a groan. He stirred, and in a moment he tried to push himself off the floor. Elisa bent over him. “Mr. Jenkins, are you all right?”
“What happened?”
She looked up at Sam and motioned for him to step away. He was only too aware that his presence would not be appreciated.
“You poor thing,” she said in her musical voice. “You fell and hit your head. But I think you’re going to be okay. Let me help you sit up.”
“Where the hell...am I?”
“Not where you should be,” she soothed him. “You need fresh air for that poor head of yours. I bet it hurts, doesn’t it?” She smoothed her hand over his cheek.
“It hurts...like hell.”
“I am sure it does.”
He rolled to his side, and she positioned herself to help him sit up. With a minimum of fuss, he was soon sitting with his head in his hands.
“You aren’t going to feel any better until we get you some fresh air.” She sounded concerned. “It’s hot in here, not comfortable at all. You need to be comfortable. You deserve it. Let me help you stand.”
He looked up at that point and saw Leon standing a few feet away. Jenkins squinted. “Lee?”
Leon approached tentatively. “Right here, Dad. I’ll help you up.”
“What...r’you doing here?”
“I asked him to help me get you outside where you’ll feel better,” Elisa said in a voice like gentle rain. “He is a good son. He is right here waiting to help you.”
“Always been a good son.”
Sam watched as Leon and Elisa positioned themselves on either side of the man and lifted him as if they had always worked together. He felt helpless, but he knew better than to assist. One glance at him and the fight would all come flooding back.
George hobbled toward the door, stopping once, as if nausea was building. Luckily he seemed to recover. They got him through the door and out into the fresh air. Sam followed at a distance. In only minutes they had George inside an old truck with Leon at the wheel.
“You’ll be okay?” he heard Elisa ask Leon. “You can drive this home?”
“I drive all the time.”
“And you can get him to bed?”
“I’ve done it before.”
“Watch for signs of concussion. Wake him up a few times through the night to be sure. But I think he’s going to be fine.”
She stepped back and slapped the passenger door in signal. Leon gunned the engine, and in a moment, the pickup was gone.
She was still staring at the road when Sam came to stand beside her. “You seem to know how to defuse every situation,” he said.
She faced him. “What is it about this church that there are so many situations to defuse?”
She said it with good humor. He smiled at her, not quite sure how to thank her, not quite sure exactly what he was feeling at that moment.
He didn’t have time to worry about either. Early and the others approached and congratulated them both on their handling of the incident. Sam was sure he would hear more about this—and not necessarily congratulations—in the weeks to come.
“Sam?” Christine joined the growing group at the front of the church.
“You’re okay?” he asked Elisa, before he faced Christine.
“I’m fine. Now I’ll go find Marvin and see what else a good sexton has to do.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
She nodded.
As Sam whisked Christine off to the side, the others were already embellishing the story beyond recognition.
Christine spoke first. “You punched somebody?”
He wasn’t sure if she was pleased or embarrassed. He suspected she was just sad she had missed the excitement.
“I didn’t punch anybody. I dodged a punch.”
“And Miss Mexican Working Girl helped you?”
He told the story quickly. “Elisa managed to convince him to go home. It’s not as exciting as it sounds.” He changed the subject. “What are you doing out here?”
“I decided to go back to the inn. I’m tired.”
“I need to stay around for a while.”
“By yourself, I’m afraid. I’ve done all the good I can here.”
He was sorry she wasn’t enjoying herself, but what exactly had he expected? That she would fall in love with these people tonight when she hadn’t fallen in love with them in the years of his ministry here? That she would fall in love with the valley and the green hills of Virginia when he wasn’t certain he had?
“Would you like me to go with you to make sure you get back all right?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine.” She touched his cheek, and her eyes sparkled. “After tonight, you’re definitely going to hire that woman, aren’t you?”
“Apparently she can handle anything we throw at her.”
“I guess she’ll be another of your do-gooder projects.” She gave an intimate laugh. “That’s one of those things I love about you. The way you take little wounded birds under your wing and make them all better.”
“Elisa is nobody’s wounded bird.”
“Of course you look for the best in every person and situation. I love that about you, too.”
Sam had known for a long time that Christine did not look for the best. She looked for the most comfortable, the most familiar, the most expedient. Most of the time he was glad of it. She was practical. She kept him on track when he lost his