She couldn’t help but think maybe she could still turn things around for them and make their working relationship less contentious. If she could figure out a way to bridge the gap; and that was a big if.
“I was planning to visit the burn site tomorrow morning to see how the cleanup is going,” Vince told Jessica. “The youth group from the church is going to help, so I wanted to stop by and thank them. But I guess that won’t be happening because I won’t have Nate’s help. I can’t drive my truck with this stupid cast on. It’s a standard transmission.”
Melanie couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity—time with Vince, out of the office, visiting the grounds of a family business that was clearly important to him—even if he did resent the thought of change.
She cleared her throat to remind both Vince and Jessica that she was present, if not exactly part of the conversation.
“No problem. I’ll drive you.”
By mid-morning the next day, Vince and Melanie were on their way to the burn site. “The clutch is a bit sensitive,” Vince commented as the gears made a slight grinding sound when Melanie shifted from first to second gear. He gave her a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye.
Her gaze was firmly on the road as she maneuvered the truck up a steep incline. From the way her forehead was creased and her lips were pursed, she was obviously concentrating ferociously.
That, or she was upset about something. It didn’t matter either way. Even with her face all scrunched up, she was one pretty lady. He couldn’t help but admire her from his peripheral vision.
As they crowned the hill and the blackened remains of the day care came into view, Vince’s focus immediately changed. His breath stung in his throat and he swallowed it back. He’d never get used to looking at the razed, utterly desolate land. He imagined it was a bleak sight even for Melanie, who had no vested interest in the place.
Even with the area teeming with life in the form of teenagers with garbage bags doing what they could to clean up the site, it was still heartbreaking to see. And while he appreciated all the help the youth groups from combined churches in the area were giving him, it was only a scratch on the surface of what needed to be done.
Vince closed his eyes. God was with him, and God was good, he reminded himself. No matter how stark the reality of the situation looked from a human perspective, God was in control. Vince had to believe that.
He did believe that.
It was a necessary reminder, and an internal conversation Vince used with himself on a regular basis, especially since the crisis with the day care.
Melanie hit a rut that bounced Vince out of his seat. He automatically reached for the bar over the door and braced himself, although the road wasn’t any worse than the usual winter washboard.
“Oh, dear,” Melanie said softly, as she cruised the rest of the way down the hill and parked the truck not far from the burn site. “I’m hurting your leg with my bad driving, aren’t I?”
Vince opened his eyes and turned his gaze toward her. She was staring back at him with wide, blinking copper-penny eyes and concern lining her face.
“Not at all. I’ve lived in the mountains all my life. A little washboard can’t hurt me.” Surprisingly, the smile he flashed her didn’t feel forced, even though his spirit had plummeted the moment they’d driven up to the site.
“Well, I’m sorry, just the same.”
“Don’t be,” he said softly.
“Who are all these teenagers?” she asked, clearly eager to change the subject.
“They are a combined youth group from some of the local churches. When they heard about the fire, they offered to help clean the debris.”
“For free?”
Despite his melancholy, he smiled. “That’s what Christians do. Support each other in times of need.”
She snorted. “Not in my experience.”
His eyebrows raised in surprise at the vehemence of her denial. “No?”
She shook her head fiercely but didn’t offer any details. He was reluctant to push her if she didn’t want to talk about it, but he was wondered what kind of Christians she’d been around to cause her to feel so much animosity.
“Jessica seems nice,” she commented, clearly eager to change the subject.
His smile faltered as a dark cloud briefly passed over his heart.
“What?” she asked. He wondered if that was concern and empathy on her face, or merely curiosity.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He shook his head. He was not the kind of guy who liked to talk about it.
“You won’t tell me what you were thinking just now?” She was pushing him, but the words were spoken gently and with respect, and Vince suddenly found himself opening up, which was a revelation in itself.
“I was thinking about my mother,” he admitted hesitantly.
“Oh? Does she live here at the lodge?”
“She died when I was a teenager.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Vince assured her, shaking his head. “It’s just—”
He paused and pursed his lips. She didn’t speak, but her expression was open and caring, so he continued.
“My mom always fussed over Nate and me. Now Nate has Jessica to care for him. It makes me more aware than ever that I don’t have anyone like that in my life.”
“You’re lucky that you had her,” she whispered. “I never had anyone who cared enough to fuss over me. Not in my whole life.”
“No one?”
She looked away, her gaze taking on a distant quality. He hoped he hadn’t stuck his foot in his mouth and inadvertently hurt her with his words. He felt like a heel, and Melanie’s emotional withdrawal only highlighted his mistakes.
He noticed her hand was still resting on the gear shift. Her skin looked soft and delicate, reminding Vince once again that he shouldn’t make sweeping judgments about someone before getting to know them first. Holding his breath, he took what was maybe the biggest risk of his whole life—he placed his hand over hers.
He thought she’d probably pull away, but she didn’t. Instead she turned her hand over and squeezed his.
She’d obviously been through a lot in her lifetime, and he wondered why there’d been no one there to protect her and care for her. It went against every fiber of his being that someone or some circumstance had caused lasting inward scars on this outwardly beautiful woman, wounds that had stayed with her into adulthood. He silently prayed that her future would hold the love and peace she hadn’t found in her childhood.
She still wouldn’t look at him. The conversation had taken a much more personal tone than either of them had expected, and he sensed she was even more uncomfortable than he was with it.
He squeezed her hand one more time and, thinking to give her a moment of privacy in which to collect herself, he let himself out of the truck, struggling for a moment with his crutches before he found his balance.
As he approached what was left of the day care facility—which was nothing—Vince leaned heavily on his crutches and sighed. Despite the well wishes of the teenagers who approached him, he still felt the enormity of the burden before him. He’d come down with the intention of personally thanking the teens for all their assistance. Now he found himself wishing he could help them, even if it was just a little bit, and was frustrated by the fact that he was so confined by his stupid cast.
What was he going to do, kick around the ashes with his one good leg? A fat