Chapter 11
The rattling of the parsonage windows woke Mark from a restless sleep.
Gusts of wind so strong he braced himself for the windows to implode and shatter all over the floor rocked the house.
He went from being partially asleep to wide awake in an instant. Sitting up, he grabbed his phone, bringing up the weather app.
Red highlighted words swam before his eyes before they focused. Storm gathering intensity, worse than forecasters feared.
Yeah, he could see that. He hadn't expected this terrible wind. Sheltered as they were in the mountains, it seemed more like a blizzard than anything he could remember.
Throwing his feet over the side of the bed, he looked out to see snow whipping by, and the windows rattled again.
He reached over to turn his bedside light on so he could see to find his shoes, which he'd left beside the bed so he could find them easily in case he got up in the middle of the night, but when he snapped the light, nothing happened.
It took a moment to register. The electricity was out.
That sent a new spike of adrenaline through him, as he ran over in his mind the things that he needed to do.
Go start the generator, make sure there was heat in the fellowship hall, then.
.. see if the roads were clear enough for him to jump in his car and drive around to see if anyone needed him to pick them up and bring them to the church.
He glanced out the window, trying to see how much snow had fallen.
With the wind, it was hard to tell, but he could still see some bare spots in the church parking lot, so he guessed that it was less than a couple of inches. He would still be able to get around.
Using his phone as a flashlight, he found where he'd set his clothes in a pile and quickly got dressed.
There was a part of him that was excited—this was his first real test as pastor of the Mistletoe Meadows community.
Part of him was scared. The townspeople were used to Pastor Johnson and the way he did things, and maybe Mark would not measure up.
Part of him had his mind on all of his parishioners, but there was one that came to the forefront of his mind, and as he hurried out to start the generator and make sure the heat was working in the fellowship hall, Olivia and her twins took up most of his thoughts.
He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on helping everyone else until he was sure she was taken care of.
As soon as he made sure the fellowship hall was warming, he got in his car and drove directly to her place.
He could look over and see that the streetlights were out, and he was pretty sure that meant that Olivia did not have heat.
If she lived above the shop with her boys, it was probably getting pretty cold, although he had no way of knowing what time the lights had gone out.
There were elderly people in his congregation, and several who had no close relatives to check on them, and he knew he couldn't spend as much time as he wanted to with Olivia, but he justified stopping at her place first because if he could get her to go over to the fellowship hall, she could help all the people who showed up while he drove around to see if there was anyone else he could help.
That seemed very logical in his brain, but if he were being honest, he knew the main reason he went over there first was because it was where he wanted to be.
He wished he would've gotten her phone number earlier as he knocked on the door. Could she even hear him over the roaring of the wind? If her windows were rattling the way his were, she probably couldn't.
He waited for a bit, and then rapped as hard as he could again.
What was he going to do if she didn't answer? He was almost certain she had no electricity.
Just as he was getting ready to lift his hand to rap a third time, a ghostly figure shifted through the darkness, coming into focus just as the lock on the door clicked and opened partway.
"Olivia. I assume you don't have electricity?" he asked, his eyes roving over her face, more concerned than he wanted to admit. She looked like she was fine, though.
"Yeah. I just woke up about five minutes ago and realized it was all off. The storm's come in a lot harder than what they were calling for."
"Yeah. I think there were some late developments that caused it to be a lot stronger than forecasted. I haven't seen any snowfall totals, but I figured if I didn't have electricity, and your porch light was out, you probably didn't have any either."
"No. But I think we'll be okay for a while and—"
"I was hoping that you would go over to the fellowship hall and help get people settled as I bring them in."
She paused, and he held his breath. He knew she had an independent streak, and she wanted to prove that she was okay on her own, but he just wanted her somewhere where she was safe. That way he didn't have to worry about her as he worked to help other people.
But that was selfish in a way. It also showed that his feelings for her went a lot deeper than what he wanted to admit, and probably deeper than hers. Funny how an emergency like this could show a person what they really felt inside.
"All right. Maybe you can come in and give me a hand with the boys?"
"I sure can. I left my car running along the sidewalk, so we don't have far to carry them."
"Thanks. I bedded them down behind the store tonight, since I figured we would probably lose power. I wasn't sure whether I would be carrying them out or not, and it's easier to do that if you don't have to go down the steps."
"That was smart on your part," he said. It would be a lot easier to get the boys out from the back room than it would be from their apartment upstairs.
Although, he had to admit he was a little curious to see what it looked like.
Olivia was creative and artistic, and he bet she had it decorated beautifully.
Where did that thought come from? He never noticed how people had their house decorated.
He didn't really care. His job was to be concerned about their spiritual welfare, and their physical welfare second.
However they chose to decorate or not decorate their house had absolutely no bearing on whether or not he did his job or how he did it either.
"Here's Aiden," Olivia whispered as she knelt down, then stood up with a little boy in her arms.
"Mommy?" Aiden said sleepily.
"It's Pastor Mark. We're going over to the church rec room for a bit. Snuggle in so you don't get cold."
"Why is it so dark?" Aidan asked, sounding slightly less sleepy.
"Because the electricity is out. We'll be able to use some of your mom's candles now," he said, hoping that the idea of the electricity being out didn't scare him.
"Mommy has some special candles set back. She told me."
He lifted his brows and looked back over his shoulder at Olivia, who came behind him. He couldn't see her face and couldn't meet her eyes, but he wondered what in the world Aiden meant by Mommy's special candles.
"I was experimenting with some different shaped candles that would be a little safer to use in a group setting like we'll have at the church. I don't know if these are going to work, but my goal was that they would be less likely to start a fire if they got tipped over."
"Interesting," he said, meaning it. He had never even considered trying to make safer candles.
"As soon as I get Ethan in the car, I'll run back in. I have the box right there on the floor by the door."
"I can get it. You get in the car with the boys and try to keep them calm so they don't get upset."
She made a small sound, and he hoped that meant that she was agreeing to his suggestion. He didn't really ask her—he was commanding—he didn't want her out in the cold any more than she needed to be.
"I have a small bookbag packed with extra clothes for us sitting right beside the box."
"I'll grab that too."
She made another noise, and this time he was pretty sure it was agreement.
He wanted to thank her for not arguing with him at this point, but instead, he opened the car door and waited for her to duck in, scooting over on the backseat with Ethan on her lap before he set Aiden down beside her and closed the door.
He had gotten a look at her face, which, while her cheeks were red, her eyes were clear and calm.
There wasn't anything to be afraid of. There was plenty of food, and the generator at the church would keep them warm.
Still, he appreciated her calmness at what must surely be a high-stress time for her, with her two twins needing her, and having to leave her home. Especially so close to Christmas.
He hurried back in, finding the box and the packed bag just where she said.
As he left, he twisted the lock on the knob and pulled the door shut.
He didn't have a key to turn the deadbolt, but the doorknob lock should be enough.
The weather certainly was not conducive to anyone going around trying to steal anything from the stores and businesses on Main Street. But stranger things had happened.
He hurried out into the gusting wind and blowing snow, opening the trunk and putting the bag and box in there.
He was completely frozen by the time he opened the door and settled down in his seat.
Olivia had the heater blowing on high, and the car had been running long enough that it was blowing warm air.
"That feels good," he said.
"I figured it would. Thank you for going back in and getting those things. It's freezing out."
"I think that must be why the wind is blowing so much. The temperature must've dropped thirty degrees since I went to bed, and that's only been a few hours."
"I think you're right. And the blowing snow doesn't help."
"No, it feels like ice shards cutting into my face."
He pulled out into the street, doing a U-turn and heading back to the church. The streets were deserted, with every business completely dark and no streetlights on. It almost looked like an alien landscape, dark, wind-swept, and cold.
"I'm gonna park as close to the door as I can. I can carry the boys in."
"I can get one of them. I think they're both awake anyway."
"I'm sorry. But I figured it was going to be pretty cold by morning. Especially with that wind."
"I'm glad you insisted. I really didn't want to come, and I was hoping that the lights would be back on and I wouldn't have to. There's just... I always feel like I need to do everything myself to prove that I can."
He glanced in the rearview mirror, meeting her eyes.
"But that's why I'm here. To help. And you letting me makes me feel like I’m doing my job."
"I'm glad it makes you feel good," she said, but there was still a note of sadness in her voice, like she wished that she was able to handle it.
"If your husband hadn't been killed, the two of you could do it together. But it's really difficult to be a single mom and do all the things that two people are supposed to do."
"You're a single person."
"I don't have children."
"That's true."
"He could be our dad," Aiden said, sounding hopeful and helpful at the same time.
Mark just about choked on his spit. Somewhere in the back of his head that thought had been going around.
But Olivia had her own business, and he had promised God that he would marry a woman who would be able to help him with the work that he had to do.
It wouldn't be fair to the people who hired him for him to bring a wife in that wasn't committed to working in the ministry as well.
His job was the kind of job that both of them needed to be one hundred percent involved in.
"I'm sorry. They never knew their real dad. I talk about him all the time, but he's just pictures and stories. No memories."
Her voice came softly from the backseat as he pulled up to the door, wishing their conversation could continue.
He was curious about her husband, and she hadn't mentioned anything in any of the other conversations that they'd had.
But maybe once everyone was in and settled, and he was sure that he had done everything he could for the people of his congregation and the town of Mistletoe Meadows, maybe then they'd have some time to talk.
He almost snorted. They would probably have time, but there would be no privacy.
He opened the door, hopped out, and then got Aiden from the backseat, still wrapped in a blanket, and carried him a few steps to the door. The fellowship hall was lit, a welcoming beacon amidst the darkness of the town as the generator rumbled in the background and the wind whipped around them.
"I'm gonna run back out and help your mom," he said as he set Aiden down.
Aiden gripped the blanket close and nodded, but for once didn't say anything.
Olivia had not worked her way out of the backseat with Ethan on her lap, and he was able to reach down and grab Ethan.
"Thanks. I'll grab the stuff in the back."
He nodded his head, because he figured arguing with her was pointless. But she could've come in and he would've gotten it gladly.
He figured she probably knew that, but what she said about wanting to be able to do things herself echoed in his mind.
That wasn't necessarily biblical. Of course God wanted people to do their very best, but he also wanted people to allow others to help when they needed it.
After all, if everyone was doing everything for themselves, there would be no need for anyone to help anyone.
And sometimes when a person helped people, it grew on them.
Of course, sometimes when they accepted help, it grew them as well.
Maybe even more, especially for someone who was used to being able to do everything themselves.
But that was a lesson he could learn as well, because he liked to be the one taking care of others, not the one who had to be taken care of. So he could definitely understand Olivia's position.
"My goodness, it's cold," Olivia said, stomping her feet on the floor as she came in, the wind blowing in behind her.
He reached over and helped her shut the door, then took the box of candles from her arms.
"I'll show you how those work in a minute, but I don't want to hold you up."
"I would like to get around and see if there's anyone else who needs a ride to the church. I know that Noah and Ben are helping to gather people up, but I want to do my part as well."
"That's fine. I won't light the candles until you're able to look at them."
"No. If you think that they'll work, you go right ahead."
"I just thought that if the lights were dim, and people needed a little bit of a welcoming glow, the candles would give it."
"I trust you. You be in charge of that."
She smiled when he said he trusted her, and their eyes met again. He wanted to reach out, to touch her shoulder, or run his finger down her cheek. But he didn't. Instead, he let his look speak all the words he couldn't, before he turned around and walked back out into the storm.