In Firefly Valley (34 page)

Eric gave a little shrug, as if the answer were insignificant. “I fixed Bert's car once. I had to drop off a loaner while we waited for the parts.” And though that had to have been close to a decade earlier, he'd remembered.

“You're a hero. You know that, don't you?” Mom asked, patting her husband's hand.

When he started to shake his head, Marisa nodded. “Yes, you are, Dad.” The name came out as easily as if she'd been saying it all her life. And she had, deep inside. Marisa smiled at her father, noting the tears that welled in his eyes, tears that were mirrored in her own.

Mom gave her a long look, then rose. “I think I'll see if Doc's got any more coffee,” she said as she strode to the door, closing it softly behind her.

“What was that all about?” Dad asked.

“Mother's intuition. She knew I wanted to talk to you.” This wasn't the way Marisa had imagined the scene. She'd thought they might sit in the gazebo or even in Rainbow's End's beautiful lodge. Not once had she envisioned a hospital room and her father with bandaged hands and raw vocal chords. Perhaps she should wait until he could speak more easily, but now that she had been given the opportunity, she didn't want to waste it.

Marisa took the seat her mother had vacated and reached for her father's hand. “Mom wasn't the only one who was worried about losing you. When I saw you run into that building, all I could do was pray that I wasn't too late.”

He started to speak, but Marisa shook her head, blinking back tears. “Please let me continue. There's so much I want to say. Most of all, I'm sorry for all the unkind things I've said and done to you. I love you, Dad. I didn't think so at the time, but now I know that I never stopped loving you. It's just that I was so afraid of being hurt that I pretended I didn't. I let anger blind me to the love I really felt.”

Her father patted her hand, then cleared his throat. “I'm the one who needs forgiveness. You were a child. I was an adult who shirked his responsibilities. I won't try to defend what I did—there is no defense. But I will tell you that once I was sober, my prayer each morning and night was that you and your mother would forgive me and give me a second chance. Will you do that, Marisa?”

“Of course.” She nodded as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love you, Dad.”

“And I love you.” He gave her a hug, then stroked her hair with one of his bandaged hands. “I hear your mother's footsteps. She and I need some time together, and you . . .” He paused and smiled.
“I suggest you go out and do what you do best: find a way to turn this fire into a happy ending.”

Marisa stared at what had once been home for twenty-four families. In the bright midmorning sun, it looked worse than it had last night. The tape cordoning off the area only highlighted the piles of sodden mattresses and charred wood. It seemed that Marisa's fears had proven accurate. Nothing could be salvaged.

The families who had once lived here had lost everything: their homes, their personal belongings, their sense of security. Fortunately, as the minister had reminded them this morning, there had been no loss of life other than three goldfish. Hickory View's “no pets” policy had proven a blessing. So too had the parade, which had meant that most of the residents were out of the building.

Though the investigation was still incomplete, it appeared faulty wiring on a string of Christmas tree lights had caused the fire. The county fire marshal had arrived last night for a preliminary walk-through, and he was back now, searching what remained of Hickory View to rule out the possibility of arson.

One by one, the answers were coming. Liam's grandmother had admitted that she'd been tired, and so when the baby had gone to sleep, she'd turned off her hearing aids and had taken a nap. That was the reason she hadn't heard the smoke alarms. Though Susan had told Lauren she might never again trust her mother to babysit, Marisa suspected she would change her mind once the horror of last night faded.

It had been a hectic and yet surprisingly rewarding night. More pleased than she'd thought possible by her father's faith in her, Marisa had volunteered her services to the mayor. Working with him and the town council, she'd helped set up emergency housing in the school gym.

Residents had provided cots, blankets, and food, the basic survival needs, but no one had been able to answer the most critical
question: what's next? There were no other apartments in Dupree, and none of the families had the money to purchase a home. Most were un- or underinsured, which meant that replacing their furniture, clothing, and other possessions would be difficult. And Christmas was only a few days away.

Though she had brainstormed with the others, they'd found no easy solutions. The town could hold a fund-raiser, but that took time, and time was one thing Dupree's least fortunate did not have.

“Blake! What are you doing here?” Surprise and wariness crossed Lauren's face as she opened the door. Still clad in her Sunday church clothes, Lauren looked as if she'd slept as little as he had. Perhaps she'd worked late, trying to finish her Christmas orders. Blake had spent the better part of the night at Newark airport, not wanting to risk missing his flight.

“I'm looking for Marisa. She's not answering my calls.” Blake had left her a voice mail once he'd made his reservations. There had been no response.

Lauren pursed her lips. “That's because her phone was run over by a fire truck. She's got mine now.”

“I tried calling her a gazillion times, because I had this weird feeling, but . . .” Blake stared at Lauren as her words registered. “Did you say fire truck? What happened?”

Blake's confusion must have been evident, because Lauren's face softened. “That's right. You don't know. The Hickory View apartments caught fire during the parade last night. They were completely destroyed.”

A shiver ran down Blake's spine. “What time was that?”

“Around 7:30.”

Exactly the time he'd sensed that Marisa needed him. And she needed him now. He managed to call a brief thanks to Lauren as he raced back to his car.

Within a minute, Blake approached what used to be the town's
apartment complex. His eyes scanned the area, his heart aching at the devastation. There she was, sitting on a bench across the street, staring at the cordoned area.

Blake pulled to the curb, switched off the engine, and sprinted toward Marisa. It was a measure of her concentration that she didn't seem to register his arrival until he called her name.

She turned, and as she did, Blake saw that her eyes were ringed with the same dark circles as Lauren's. But what caught and held his attention was the expression in those beautiful blue eyes. Something had changed—something fundamental—for the anger he'd seen there so often was gone, replaced by something he could only describe as radiance. There was only one possible explanation: Marisa had found the peace that comes from God. If that was true, and he believed it was, Blake's most fervent prayers had been answered.

“Blake!”

As she gave him a smile filled with hope, he opened his arms. A second later, Marisa rushed into them, letting him enfold her in his embrace. “It'll be all right,” he crooned as he stroked the back of her head. “Together we'll find the answer.”

P
erhaps it was wrong to feel happy when so many of Dupree's residents were homeless, but Marisa couldn't help it. Her heart skipped a beat as she told herself it was true. She was in Blake's arms, and he was looking at her as if the trip to the goat farm and the angry words she'd hurled at him had not taken place. If it hadn't been for the stench of burned wood and smoky ashes, she might have thought she'd gone back in time. But she hadn't. Somehow, the one thing Marisa had thought impossible had happened. Blake had come to her.

“How did you know I needed you?” she asked when she could form a coherent thought.

There was no denying that Marisa needed Blake. Though a huge hole deep inside her had been filled last night when she and her father had been reconciled, an empty space remained in Marisa's heart.

When her brainstorming with the town council had produced no ideas for temporary and longer-term housing, Marisa remembered how she and Blake had worked together to resolve the problem with Rainbow's End's tablecloths. That had been simple compared to this, but Marisa was confident that Blake would have good
suggestions. And even if he didn't, having him nearby would boost her spirits. That he was here when they'd parted so badly and that he'd said they would work together seemed like a miracle.

A hint of wonder filled Blake's eyes. “The only explanation I have is that God told me. I was sitting in a restaurant with my dad and Hilary, celebrating their engagement, when I knew you needed me. I tried to call you but got no answer.”

Marisa nodded. “I dropped my phone. Something—probably one of the fire trucks—ran over it.”

“Lauren told me, but it seems that's the least of your worries. What happened?”

As she recounted the events of the previous evening and her father's role in saving Liam and his grandmother, Marisa's eyes filled with tears. “I've never been so frightened. All I could think was that he might die without knowing how much I love him.”

“But he didn't.”

“No, he didn't, thanks to God.” Marisa brushed away the solitary tear that was making its way down her cheek. Fixing her gaze on Blake, she said softly, “And thanks to God, you're here too. Oh, Blake, I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I wouldn't have blamed you if you never wanted to see me again.”

“But I do. We've got a lot to talk about, and we'll do that later. Right now it seems to me you're facing an immediate challenge. Where will all those families live?”

Marisa laid her hand on Blake's cheek, grateful beyond words that he'd accepted her apology so easily. He was right. They would talk later, and that talk would be far different from the one at the goat farm.

“Housing is the question of the day.” And one that Marisa believed Blake could help answer. “We set up an emergency shelter in the school gym, but that's not a long-term solution. There are no vacant houses in town, and although we've got more than our share of empty stores, it would take a lot of work to turn them into residences.”

When Blake raised an eyebrow, she explained. “I know that because Drew considered buying a couple for his first employees. He said it probably wasn't cost effective to convert them. That's why he wants to extend Maple Street to the north and build some duplexes as well as his computer center there.”

“Like an old-fashioned company town?”

Marisa nodded. “Sort of. The problem is, his houses are only a dream at this point.”

Blake kept his arm wrapped around Marisa's shoulders as he led her back to the bench. Somehow he'd sensed that her legs were threatening to collapse. Too little sleep and too much stress had turned them into limp noodles.

“Will the owner rebuild Hickory View?”

Marisa shook her head. “That doesn't seem likely. The man who owns it is the former mayor. He's living in Austin now. Fortunately, his son is in Dupree and knows what happened.” Marisa gave Blake a mischievous smile. “Remember how I told you I was dreading Hal Lundquist's visit? It turned out to be a blessing.” She told him what had happened when Hal had met her father.

“Hal was at the parade,” she continued. “When he realized what was going on at Hickory View, he called his dad to see what he should do. Mr. Lundquist claims he's tired of being an absentee landlord.” Marisa shrugged. “I suspect he's going to collect the insurance money and then try to sell the land.”

“Someone'll buy it.”

Blake was more confident than Marisa. Even though the local economy was beginning to improve, Dupree wasn't an ideal investment.

“Maybe, but that doesn't solve the immediate problem. Those families need a place to live now. And who knows what the new owner would build? The rent might be more than they can afford.”

Though the morning was surprisingly warm for late December, Marisa shivered, thinking about the winter to come and the now-homeless families.

Blake drew her closer, the warmth of his arms helping to dissipate the chill that had settled over her. “Affordable rent's a good point,” he said, “but let's start with the immediate need: temporary housing. I doubt you can get FEMA trailers, but what about RVs? They're already furnished, and folks live in the bigger ones for months on end.”

As she pictured some of the RVs she'd seen advertised, Marisa nodded. It was a good idea. It might even be a great idea. As she had hoped, Blake had identified a possibility she and the town council hadn't considered. Only one problem remained, and it was a big one.

“I like the idea, but there's still the issue of money. I doubt very many of the families could afford to buy an RV, new or used. Renting one might even be a stretch. When Lauren and Patrick wanted to take a camping vacation, they said rentals were exorbitant.”

Marisa knew the expense of buying or renting RVs would make only a small dent in Greg's charitable foundation, but the town council had decreed that they would ask Greg for financial help only if they could find no alternatives. Everyone felt—and Marisa agreed—that Greg and Kate were already doing so much for Dupree that it would be unfair to ask for more. Still, Marisa suspected Kate and Greg would be unhappy if they couldn't contribute in some way. The question was how.

Blake refused to be discouraged. “I don't know about long-term rentals, but there's always year-end sales. If Texas is anything like Pennsylvania, dealers are eager to reduce inventory. Let's see what we can find.”

He looked at the charred remains of Hickory View and frowned. “I think we've got another problem. Assuming we can get RVs, where can they be parked? It obviously can't be here.”

Marisa thought for a moment, picturing the few vacant lots in Dupree. The area Drew wanted for his company required substantial grading before it would be usable. Even the park wasn't large enough to accommodate two dozen RVs unless they were
practically on top of each other. While that might be acceptable for a brief vacation, it was a less than desirable solution for what could turn into a year's residence. There had to be an answer. Marisa closed her eyes, then grinned as she remembered the tax bill she'd just paid.

“Firefly Valley,” she said. “It's flat, and though there are some trees, they're far enough apart that we could park RVs there.”

Blake's grin matched hers. “Good idea. Who owns it?”

“That's the best part. It's part of Rainbow's End. Apparently, the first owners thought they might want to expand, so they bought ten acres on the opposite side of the road. Right now, it's just empty land. I'm sure Kate and Greg would let the RVs park there.” That would be one way to have them involved in the project without asking them for money.

Blake smiled. “One problem down. Now we need to find some affordable RVs.” He pulled out his phone and started to search for local dealers.

“Why don't we go to my office? We'll be more comfortable there.” Marisa had come here looking for inspiration, and she'd found it. There was no longer any reason to stare at the ruined building.

As she and Blake entered the Rainbow's End lobby ten minutes later, they found Greg sitting behind the desk.

“You're back.” Greg didn't look particularly surprised to see Blake. “I wondered how long you'd be able to stay away.”

“Apparently it was long enough that you've found a new job.”

Greg shrugged. “Everyone else is in town. Carmen insisted on cooking dinner for the . . .” He paused. “I can't figure out what to call them. Homeless? Victims? That sounds so depressing. Anyway, Carmen cooked, and the rest of the staff went along to help serve. Some of the guests are even helping.” Greg frowned. “I've got to tell you, buddy, I wish Kate and I could do something. When I called the mayor to offer a donation, he just brushed me off.”

Marisa nodded, suspecting that although the mayor had tried
to be diplomatic, he'd offended Greg. That wasn't the plan. “The town council thinks you've already done more than your share for the town,” she explained. “I was there when they said they wanted to try to solve the problem without any more gifts from you. But,” Marisa said, giving Blake a conspiratorial smile, “no one said anything about loans.”

Greg grinned. “At very low interest rates.”

“I was actually thinking about interest-free.”

As Marisa explained what she and Blake were planning, she watched Greg's enthusiasm grow. “Of course you can use the land, and since we're so close, we can provide meals—at least for a few weeks until everyone gets settled. And, if you need that other kind of loan, just let me know.”

As Greg called Kate to tell her what was happening and Marisa and Blake headed toward her office, Blake started to chuckle. “What do you bet that within two minutes, Kate will decide that the Hickory View people will celebrate Christmas here?”

Marisa glanced at her watch. Ninety-three seconds later, Kate appeared in the doorway to Marisa's office. “We're going to need more Christmas presents, but don't worry, Marisa. I'll take care of that. You and Blake worry about those RVs.”

Once Kate had left, Marisa turned to Blake. “Kate and Greg do so much. I hope we don't have to ask them for money.”

A curious expression crossed Blake's face, but his words were matter-of-fact as he said, “We won't have to. We'll find a way to make this affordable. First, let's see how much those RVs are going to cost.”

Though it was early afternoon on a Sunday, it appeared that RV dealers never closed and that their owners worked on weekends. Marisa said a silent prayer of thanks when she reached the first owner and explained what had happened. “These people have lost everything,” she concluded. “I wondered if you'd be able to offer us a discount.”

The man's reply left her speechless. “I've got three of last year's
model that I haven't been able to sell. You can have them for as long as you need them—no cost. The only thing I ask is that you let me put my dealer sticker on them. Maybe someone in Dupree will want to buy something from me.”

Free! It was more than Marisa had dared hope for. Though the news was often filled with so many reports of wars, gun violence, and major thefts that viewers might believe there was no kindness left in the world, this man was proof that people did care about others.

“Mr. McIntyre, I don't know what to say other than thank you. What you've offered is extremely generous, and it'll make a huge difference to three families.” Marisa felt tears of joy and relief begin to choke her throat. “Thank you, Mr. McIntyre. Thank you.”

When she hung up the phone, she turned to Blake. “Did you hear that, Blake? He's going to lend them to us—free! I can't believe it.”

“Why not? God's in the miracle business. It seems to me he's using Mr. McIntyre for this one.”

“And all he wanted was a little free advertising.” Marisa grinned. “I can do better than that. Will you call the next dealer? I want to write a press release. This is the perfect Christmastime human interest story.”

“A modern
Miracle on 34th Street
?” Blake appeared faintly amused by the idea.

“Exactly. We may not have peace on earth, but Mr. McIntyre is doing his part for goodwill toward humankind.”

“And with him as an example, the other dealers will want to jump on the same bandwagon.”

Marisa nodded. “I hope so.”

An hour later, they had promises for all twenty-four RVs, most of which would be delivered today, all of which were being offered free. The dealers had even anticipated a problem Marisa hadn't considered: transportation. When they'd heard what happened, in addition to offering RVs, the owners had volunteered to enlist friends to get those RVs to Dupree.

“You don't need me for a few minutes, do you?” Blake asked when the last RV had been accounted for. “I've got a couple things I need to do.”

Marisa shook her head. Though she was curious about those errands and the fact that he wasn't sharing any of the details with her, something in Blake's expression kept her from asking where he was going. It didn't matter. What mattered was that Blake's idea had become reality. The Hickory View families would not be homeless much longer. Marisa turned her attention to getting the publicity the dealers—and Dupree—deserved.