The Mechanics of Mistletoe - Liz Isaacson Page 0,18

her forehead to the child’s.

“Go get your books from your room,” she said. “You can read to Grandpa. Or set up that folding table we have under the stairs and do a puzzle. You guys will be okay here, okay?”

“Okay, Sammy.”

She watched him go upstairs, and she met her father’s eyes.

“Go,” he said. “We’ll be fine here.”

“Don’t go outside and try to do anything, Dad. Promise me.”

“I won’t,” he said, but he didn’t promise. Sammy had to accept that, because her father didn’t want to fade quietly into death, and she understood that more than she’d like.

“Okay.” She took another big breath and headed out of the house the same way she’d come in. She moved faster from her house to her parents’, and they’d lost all their gutters, part of the roof, and nearly every shingle on it. Out front, Sammy’s truck sat in the front yard, not the driveway where she’d left it. The tailgate was bent from where it had pressed into the tree it currently rested against, but Sammy was able to move the truck an inch forward just by leaning her weight into it, so the two items weren’t fused together.

Windows along the front of the house were broken, but only on the northwest corner. “Interesting,” Sammy said to herself, though there were plenty of people out in their yards, some already picking through things. She didn’t want to touch anything until she wore a proper pair of gloves, because she knew that heat and sharp edges could pop up literally anywhere.

Inside the house, bits of sunlight filtered down from the holes in the roof, and Sammy sincerely hoped it didn’t rain until she could fix that. With almost twenty thousand people in Three Rivers now, she knew she wouldn’t be at the top of the list for such repairs, and a sigh of frustration moved through her.

At least it wasn’t desperation.

In the kitchen, which sat at the back of the house, there was very little damage other than the roof. If she could get that and the gutters fixed, her parents could move back in here. Then it was just windows in the front bedroom that her parents didn’t use anyway, and the bathroom they did.

It felt doable, and Sammy rolled her neck and shoulders and said, “Thank you, Lord.”

She pulled out her phone to send a text to her mom and saw she’d missed a few phone calls and more than a few texts. Her phone had been off all night to preserve the battery, and when she’d turned it on this morning, it had been on silent.

Her heartbeat bounced right into the back of her throat when she saw all three missed calls were from Bear Glover.

Four of the texts were too.

Hey, Sammy, call me when you can.

I’m worried about you and how hard you and your family were hit.

I have people who can come help. All you have to do is let me know if you need us.

I’m driving to town to check on you. Are you home or at the shop?

The last text had come in two minutes ago, and Sammy’s smile felt foreign and familiar at the same time. “Bear Glover,” she whispered, because the man was as close to a saint as Sammy had ever known. How sweet of him to be so concerned about her.

She tapped the phone icon to dial him as she headed back out the front door to her truck.

“Sammy,” he said, his voice filled with disbelief and relief. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” she said. She explained quickly about her phone as she got behind the wheel and started her truck. Then she said, “My house isn’t too bad. I left Lincoln and my parents there. My parents need a new roof and gutters and windows.”

She pulled over the sidewalk and curb to the road. Debris littered it too, but she went slow over the wood and managed to maneuver between other objects she didn’t want to hit. “I’m headed to the shop now,” she said. “I have no idea what it’ll be like.”

“The reports I’ve seen and from people I’ve talked to, it seems like the northern parts of the town were hit hardest. Maybe the shop won’t be too bad.”

“How’s your ranch?” she asked.

“Not terrible,” he said. “My mother’s house has a tree down in the middle of it. That’s the worst of it.”

“Oh, wow,” Sammy said, her eyebrows going up.

“I’ve got nine brothers and cousins,” he said. “Three women to help with