A Colorado Match

“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 lot of help he was going to be.

He closed his eyes, wishing it all away. If only this were a bad dream and he would soon wake from his sleep. But of course when he opened his eyes again, nothing had changed.

Reality check.

The fire had consumed every inch of the building and every bit of the equipment that had been inside. It was all gone. Completely and utterly destroyed, turned into bags upon bags of worthless debris in the blink of an eye.

And yet it could have been so much worse, he re minded himself. He had much to thank God for.

None of the kids had been hurt. Or his brother. Or Gracie. Or Jessica.

People couldn’t be replaced. Buildings could.

Except in this case, Vince didn’t know when it would happen. Or more to the point, how. The ministry was barely making it financially as it was. There’d been no way to predict such a disaster, and even if he had, his budget constraints wouldn’t have been able to have changed much.

He sighed again and made absent circles in the ash with the end of one of his crutches. He heard Melanie exit the truck and slam the door shut, but he didn’t turn to look at her as she approached.

Instead, he closed his eyes once again, this time centering his heart on heaven and the throne of grace. Silently, he pleaded with God for the strength and wisdom to deal with this new trial.

Most of all, he prayed for the faith to believe God would get him through this, for he had never felt as utterly alone and abandoned as he did at this moment.

In his head, he knew he couldn’t let his feelings dictate his faith, but his heart was not so quick to catch up.

“What are you doing?” Melanie asked, abruptly putting an end to Vince’s agonizing prayer.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and turned to face her. “Praying.”

Her copper-penny eyes widened noticeably. “Seriously? I thought maybe you were looking for something there in the ashes.”

“In a way, I guess I was,” he answered with a twisted smile. “Guidance.”

Melanie shook her head. “Excuse me?”

“From the Lord.”

She didn’t look convinced. Her right eyebrow twitched upward in that compelling way she had, and then her eyes narrowed and she locked her gaze on him. He fought with a powerful urge to look away from her and, with effort, managed to maintain eye contact with her.

“I hope I don’t sound insensitive, but it seems to me this place needs a lot more than a prayer.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Vince replied softly, thinking of how little he could do. There wasn’t enough money to renovate, much less rebuild.

Her gaze widened, but she didn’t speak.