Reinventing Leona (29 page)
A scream started to form in the pit of Leona’s belly. She clamped her hand over her mouth. Afraid to ask, but desperate to know, she squeezed her daughter’s name past the barrier guarding her trembling lips. “Maddie. Have I lost my Maddie?”
Roxie shot a worried glance at Cotton, who gave her the nod to continue. “Maddie’s cut up, but she’s all right.”
“Praise God.” Leona slumped onto the couch like a pinpricked balloon. She dragged the back of her hand under her nose, relief bolstering her willingness to risk one more question. “What about Parker?”
“He’s alive, but unconscious.”
“How do you know?”
“Maddie called.”
Leona jumped to her feet. “Why didn’t Maddie call me?”
“Because she did not want you to hear this bad news alone.”
Alone. Alone. Alone.
The terrifying word clanged in Leona’s head as if someone had pulled the rope to the rusty bell in the church steeple. Where was J.D. when she needed him? Or God, for that matter? Leona felt chunks of her heart break loose and plummet into her wrenching gut.
Don’t fall apart. You don’t have the luxury of falling apart.
If you do, who will rescue your girl?
Leona paced. She had to think. Think fast. She swiped frantically at the tears cascading down her face. “What can we do? How can I get to my baby?”
“You can’t.” Mother wheeled her chair into Leona’s path and grabbed her flailing hands. “That van of yours would never make it.”
Leona jerked free. “If you think I’m the kind of mother who would sit here while her daughter is—”
“Melvin’s got the limo. It’s a heavy vehicle. Send him for Maddie and Parker.” Compassion softened the decisive edge in her mother’s rapid-fire commands.
Leona stopped. “Mother, that’s brilliant.” She kissed her mother’s cheek. “David should have landed. Between the two of them, surely they can get to Maddie. I’ll try to call.”
Hope rose above the bile churning Leona’s stomach. She ran to her purse and dug out her cell phone. “God, let Melvin have David. And please God, forget I asked for Nineveh. My kids need you on the interstate.”
David avoided eye contact with the pensive Postier clan circling their mound of matching luggage. Had the tanned interlopers been clad in Western attire rather than those ridiculous matching windbreakers, they would have resembled a wagon train party on the lookout for warring natives.
If they join hands and pray before the baggage turnstile, I’ll lose it.
Guilt needled David’s conscience as he adjusted the duffle bag strap slung over his shoulder. Ted—the name the reverend insisted David call him—had mentioned during their rough flight that the church was sending an elder to meet his family at the airport. David hadn’t said anything, but he knew there was no way Howard would take one of his shiny Caddies out on salted roads. And Harold and Horace were too chicken to come alone. The Postiers didn’t know it yet, but they were stranded.
“Uh . . . Ted?” David tapped the shivering man on the back of his lightweight jacket. “You folks need a ride?”
“We aren’t sure what to do.” Uncertainty lined Ted’s brow. “Maybe we should just get a hotel room.”
David cast a wave over the sea of stranded travelers. “You think they’d be sleeping on the floor if there were rooms left in the city?”
Ted zipped his windbreaker. “I’m sure the Lord will provide.”
“He just did.” David pointed to the black shiny limo gliding to a stop outside the baggage claim windows.
Bridget peered over Ted’s shoulder. Her blue eyes grew saucer-sized. “Yours?”
“So to speak. Look, I’ve got plenty of room and—” David’s cell vibrated in his pants pocket. He pulled it out. His mother’s number was on the caller ID. “Excuse me, I need to get this. Take your stuff on out there and Melvin will load you up.”
Ted shook his head. “We hate to inconvenience—”
David held up his hand and stopped the Postiers’ unison protests. He poked his finger in his free ear, blocking out the airport noise. “Momma, I’ve landed and Mel . . . What? . . .When? . . . How bad? . . . Where are they? . . . We’re on our way. . . . Yes, as soon as I know anything. . . . I promise. We’ll be careful. . . . I love you, too, Momma.”
“Is there a problem?” Ted’s commiserating expression must have garnered an A-plus in Ministry 101, Crisis Management.
Adrenaline pumping, David fought the urge to sprint to the limo, leaving the golden boy and his photo-ready family curled up in baggage claim under their Southern-weight winter wear. “My sister and a friend were involved in a car accident between here and Mt. Hope.”
“We can help.” Bridget placed a confident hand on David’s arm.
I doubt hospital visitation counts as medical training.
But at this moment, David did not have the luxury of cross-examining the Lord’s witnesses. He grabbed two pieces of Postier luggage off the pile. “What are we waiting for? Let’s move.”
* * * * *
The anxious eyes of the Postiers followed every fidgety move David made on the limo’s slippery seats. David rapped a knuckle on the half-lowered window separating passengers and driver. “Melvin, can’t you go any faster?”
“Not if you want to get there, sir.”
Ted rubbed his reddened hands together as if the friction would return them to their original sun-kissed state. “Would you like us to pray?”
“No.”
“Then, do you mind if I use your phone? Mine seems to lack service in this part of the country.”
David pointed to the phone on the car wall. “Be my guest.”
“I just need to let Elder Davis know that we have secured transportation.” Ted stopped his frantic hand warm-up and blew between his cupped palms.
“We wouldn’t want the good elder worrying about your health and well-being.” David tapped on the window. “Melvin, could you turn up the heat? Our guests are a little chilly.”
The chauffeur glanced into the rearview mirror and nodded.
Bridget pried apart her blue lips and offered what reminded David of Momma’s stock grateful smile.
The reverend extracted a tiny slip of paper from his pocket and began punching the phone’s black buttons. He cleared his throat as he waited with the phone to his ear. “Brother Davis? Ted Postier . . . Oh, yes, sir. Not a scratch on us. . . . Had a few delays, but we’ve made it to the city. . . . Of course, you couldn’t risk these roads. . . . No hotel rooms available, but God provided. We’re are on our way to Mt. Hope now. . . . Nice fellow offered us his limo. . . . His name?” Red-faced, Ted put his hand over the receiver. “Forgive me, but I haven’t even asked your name.”
“David.”
“Says his name is David. . . . Well, I guess it could be Harper, but I didn’t ask. He mentioned he grew up in Mt. Hope. Maybe you know him. . . . Sir? . . . Hello, sir?” Ted stared at the buzzing phone and shrugged. “The storm must have broken our connection.”
David suppressed a chuckle, knowing full well weather was not the culprit. Howard’s lightbulb-shaped head had shorted out when the little snake realized Momma had called in legal reinforcements. David’s only regret: he wasn’t there to see the elder squirm.
“What was your little sister doing out in this weather?” Bridget’s question interrupted David’s mental revelry.
“Coming home from med school.”
“Your parents are probably worried sick.” Her portrait-perfect face was a masterpiece of concern. This girl was good.
Parents?
Regret knotted David’s stomach. He and Maddie had been blessed to grow up in a house where the father loved the mother and both adored their children. Why had he taken that blessing for granted? What he wouldn’t give to right that wrong, along with several others gnawing at his twisted gut.
David swallowed. “Momma’s a tough cookie.”
“And your father?”
“Recently deceased.”
“Oh.” Bridget blushed. “I’m so sorry. How did it happen?”
“Work-related incident.”
“What kind of work did your father do?”
“Pastored a miserable little church.”
* * * * *
Maddie huddled as close to Parker’s slumped body as she dared. It seemed they’d been frozen that way for hours, but when she checked the time on her phone, only a few minutes had passed since she called Aunt Roxie. She adjusted the blanket, then wrapped her arms around Parker, hoping to slow the escape of his body heat.
Resting her head on Parker’s shoulder, she felt the comforting rise and fall of his chest.
Wake up, Parker. Please wake up.
The snow whipped through their mangled vehicle. Maddie shivered. If the storm kept up this pace, before long they would be buried; then finding them would be impossible.
Lord, please. I know I have no right to ask, but please, for Parker’s sake, send help.
The vibration of her cell phone against her gloveless hand startled Maddie from her prayer. That was the fastest answer God had ever sent. She looked at the caller ID. “Momma?” Grateful tears stung her cold nose.
“Maddie, are you all right?” Conviction she would not be otherwise rang in her mother’s voice.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“You surprised me, sweetheart.”
Maddie remembered the time she wanted to make breakfast in bed for her mother. She’d planned the menu for days. Toast, cereal, and orange juice. On the fateful morning, she dropped the orange juice jug, cereal went everywhere but the bowl, and the toast burned. But Momma acted like she was still asleep when Maddie stumbled into her bedroom with the tray. Momma had her faults, but ruining a surprise wasn’t one of them, even if she had to fake it.
“And Parker?”
The question brought Maddie back to the dire situation. She glanced at his still face. “I’m not sure.”
“Is it safe for you to stay put?”
Maddie closed her eyes against the darkening sky. She could fib too, if necessary. “Truck’s probably totaled. But we’re out of the snow. The man that hit us gave us a blanket.”
“Great. Here’s what I want you to do. Can you hear me, Maddie?”
“Yes, Momma.”
“Stay right where you are. Melvin and David are not far behind you. They should be there any minute. I’ve checked with the Highway Patrol. They’re trying to get help there.”
“Good. I’d hate to move Parker without a board.”
“Hopefully you won’t have to. Now, see if you can get the truck flashers to come on; that will make it easier for David to spot you.”
Maddie searched the crumpled dash and found the emergency button. She pushed and miraculously an orange glow from the truck’s lights cut through the snow. “They work.”
“Of course they do. I’ve been praying.” Momma’s confidence transcended the airwaves, warming Maddie’s numb extremities.
“Momma, can you stay on the line until David gets here?”
“I won’t leave you, Maddie. I promise.”
The words covered Maddie with a blanket of comfort. “I know, Momma.”
Momma cleared her throat. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing in the truck with Parker Kemp.”
“I needed to come home.”
“I know, baby.”
Momma’s small talk drifted in and out of Maddie’s prayers that the flashers would be enough.
* * * * *
Sirens and lights cut through the deepening darkness, arousing Maddie’s numb limbs. “I think help is here, Momma . . . Momma? Oh no, my battery is dead.” She closed her phone and wiggled out from under the blanket.
Parker opened his eyes. “What happened?”
“Don’t move.” Maddie touched the glove stuck to his forehead. “We need to fix that gash on your hard noggin.”
“I remember spinning around, but—”
A hooded paramedic pounded on the passenger side of the truck. “Anybody hurt?”
Maddie pointed toward the SUV. “There’s a man in the backseat of that vehicle who appears fine, but he might have internal injuries.”
Parker cut Maddie a sideways glance. “Looks like I slept through all the fun.” He lifted his hand and brushed snow from Maddie’s hair. “But I’m sure the good doctor didn’t need any help.”
“When you get a chance, we need to cuff this man’s neck and tape his ungrateful mouth,” Maddie informed the paramedic before he disappeared in the snow.
Headlights pierced the freezing curtain of white and pulled alongside the flashing lights.
“Maddie!” David’s voice cut through the wind. He reached inside the cab. “Oh, thank God, you’re alive.” He drew her into his arms and squeezed tight. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“I wasn’t until you broke my ribs.” Maddie cocked her head back and looked into David’s moist eyes.
“Sorry, I—”
She put a finger over her brother’s trembling lips. “Thought I died?”
David hugged her again. Tears splashed onto Maddie’s hair. “Thank you, God. Thank you, Father.”
“Hey, in case anyone was wondering, I didn’t die either.” Parker’s head rested on the seat.
Releasing Maddie, David asked, “Is he going to be all right?”
Maddie lifted the bloody glove stuck to Parker’s forehead. “He’s destined to be a knot head, but I think he’ll live.”
Parker flashed a smile as crooked as his truck bumper. “I dreamed an angel was kissing me, begging me to open my eyes.”
“Kissing angels, Dr. Harper?” David grinned.
“He’s delirious.” Maddie felt her cheeks flush. “Totally unaware of what he is saying.”
“No, I’m sure an angel kissed me,” Parker insisted, a wry grin activating his charming dimples.
Maddie turned to David. “See what’s keeping that medic. This guy is worse than I thought.”
Leona dropped onto the plaid couch, the silent phone clenched in her hand. “I lost her.”
“Maybe her battery died.” Cotton placed a firm hand on Leona’s shoulder. “Try calling David.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Roxie flipped open her phone and handed it to Leona. “Use mine. You’re probably about out of battery too.”
Balancing the sleek device between her jittery hands, Leona forced her mind to bring forth David’s number. She moved her thumb deliberately over the keypad, punching in the proper sequence and praying the storm had not cut off David’s signal. The doorbell rang, jolting every nerve in Leona’s heightened-alert body. “Who would get out in this weather?”