Stranger's Gift (25 page)

He stood on the porch and saw that the garden looked exactly the same as it had weeks earlier when he'd first stayed the night. There wasn't a shred of evidence that Hester had spent any time replanting. Even the orchids that she had told him had been taken inside to avoid being damaged by the hurricane had not been brought outside again. He didn't know much about growing orchids, but surely by now …

She's been a little busy
, he reminded himself, thinking of all the different things that Hester was managing. The distribution center, getting the houses along the creek fit for occupancy again, working on Margery's place, cooking and cleaning and caring for her father, and presumably finding some time in there to spend with Samuel. It would be nice if someone might notice that maybe Hester could use a little help, that restoring the garden might be just the ticket to ease those lines of worry and exhaustion that so often marred her face. Maybe he should mention it to Samuel. It would be a way that Samuel could show his affection for her. It might even move things along for the two of them.

John frowned. Try as he might, he could not see Samuel and Hester together long term. Friends, yes. Married and facing a lifetime of evenings across the supper table from each other—nope. Still, from everything Margery had told him and everything he'd observed on his own, that was the plan. Hardly his business, he thought as he tucked the bundle of soiled clothing into the basket of Hester's bicycle and headed for the marina. The last thing Margery needed was to have her boat towed.

Later that evening after he'd retrieved Zeke's guitar and returned to his place, he built a fire and set a large kettle filled with water to boil. Then he walked his property and came across a patch of ferns growing wild near the packinghouse. He had no use for the things himself, but it occurred to him that they would make a nice lush addition to the garden. She could set the orchid pots on the ground and let the dark green lacy foliage of the ferns hide the pot and highlight the blossom. He'd point them out to Samuel when he stopped by to pick up Hester's bike and suggest he dig them and take them to Hester. Or maybe he would do it himself. After all, the plants were likely to get trampled over the next couple of days while he was working on rebuilding the damaged wall of the packinghouse. Besides, why was he troubling himself with matchmaking? Wasn't the match between Hester and Samuel already made?

Even a few days later when Jeannie assured her that Zeke was on the mend and eating like a horse, Hester couldn't seem to get Danny and the other homeless people out of her mind. Before the suspected crypto outbreak, her interactions with that sector of the local population had come either through Zeke or through her work distributing clothing and food for MCC. Zeke was homeless by choice mostly. He had family in the area, family he was in touch with from time to time, and, of course, he had Jeannie and her husband looking out for him.

Besides, Zeke was always well groomed, and his clothes were always clean, if ill-fitting. He made some money by playing his guitar at the city's downtown farmers' market during the high tourist season, and at other times of the year he could be found strumming his guitar on Main Street outside one of the vacant storefronts. He never actually panhandled. He simply left his guitar case open on the sidewalk next to him, and people dropped money in as they passed by.

But most of the others clearly had no such connections. Their hair was matted, and their clothes reeked of the need for a good washing. She recalled the two women at the bay front with their battered grocery cart, rusted and piled high with a variety of black plastic garbage bags filled with who-knew-what. Both the women and their cart had disappeared without a trace, and Hester couldn't help wondering what had happened to them. Without the safety net of Rainbow House—a place where homeless people could get a hot shower, a decent meal, and a cot—where would people like those two women go? She hadn't even gotten their names.

Something needed to be done about getting the shelter back in operation. She had no direct association with Rainbow House, but she knew people who did—Grady, for one. She would call him and let him know about the women.

“There are still some of those trailers FEMA sent down parked over near the park,” her father told her when she raised her concerns for the homeless population that night at supper.

The house trailers had arrived after a story about the flooding in Pinecraft and other Sarasota neighborhoods that sat along the creek hit the national news. Grady had tried to assure the FEMA reps that the community was well prepared to care for their own, but those in charge of the agency in Washington had insisted. They had also insisted that Grady make sure the delivery was well documented by local media, and he had orchestrated the move of half a dozen families from the shelters to the trailers.

“It's a temporary fix at best,” Hester said, “but they're not doing anybody else any good, and the homeless folks could sure use them.”

After supper Hester and Samuel drove to Grady's house and explained the problem.

“I'd like to help. I really would,” Grady told them. “But we've got a bunch of Homeland Security bigwigs on their way down here to tour the area. Some talk show host did a sensational piece focused on what hasn't been done, so the folks in DC are nervous. They sent those trailers for people wiped out by the hurricane, and if we use them to house folks who were homeless before the hurricane…Well, you know how these things go.”

“But no one is using them, and until Rainbow House can be reopened—”

“Rainbow House is closed, Hester.”

“I know, but maybe some local charity could—”

“There are dozens of local charities, and at times like this we definitely count on their support. But starting up something new?” Grady shook his head. “Money is tight, and I hate to say it, but that's not going to happen.”

Hester sighed. “I understand. I just hoped that maybe there was something we could do.”

Grady's wife, Amy, offered dessert, but both Hester and Samuel turned her down. “Thanks, but we should be getting back.” Not wanting to leave her friends to think that she was upset with them, she smiled at Amy. “Hey, I'm a nurse, and you should be off your feet.”

Amy patted her very pregnant midsection. “This little guy doesn't like sitting around. I think he's going to be a football player the way he kicks.”

Grady wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “It won't be much longer now,” he promised.

Amy laughed. “Then we probably won't get any sleep at all—either of us.” But in spite of her complaints, Amy seemed so very happy and content that Hester found it hard not to envy her.

“If either of you get any ideas about helping these folks, let us know, okay?”

“Tell you what,” Grady said as he and Amy walked them down the driveway, “I'll introduce you to our visitors from DC if I get a chance. I mean, it would be a long shot, but you never know.”

“I'd appreciate that,” Hester said as Samuel opened the car door for her. “And don't worry, Grady. We'll figure something out.”

“You always do,” Grady said.

Hester sighed heavily, and after Samuel pulled away from the curb, he glanced at Hester. “He's right, you know. You will find a solution for this.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

Samuel laughed. It was a good laugh, hearty and filled with the pure joy of being alive. “Oh, Hester, the one thing you do not need is any more confidence. You are perhaps the most self-confident person I have ever known, man or woman.” But then he sobered and focused on his driving. “You take on too much, Hester. You cannot save the world.”

Why not?
she thought. Not that she was so egotistical as to think she could, but wasn't the world, and more to the point the people in it, worth doing everything possible to save? Hadn't God entrusted His creation to their stewardship? Wasn't that the whole point of life on this planet? “I know, but if we don't do our best, then don't you think we'll regret not at least trying?”

“So we'll do our best,” he said. “We just have to figure out what that might be.”

Reassured, Hester leaned back and closed her eyes. There was comfort in his words. She wasn't in this alone.

“There is one regret that I have,” he said after several minutes.

His tone was so solemn that Hester's eyes flew open, and she turned in her seat to face him. “What?”

He grinned. “That we turned down Amy's offer of dessert. I find that I suddenly have a real craving for a chocolate sundae.”

“With pecans?” Hester asked, falling so easily into the rhythm of his teasing that it might have been something they had shared for years. She couldn't help thinking how different this ice cream date with Samuel was from the one she had shared with John, not that the cone she'd shared with John had been a date. Far from it.

“And whipped cream?” Samuel was smiling at her, a twinkle in his eye. Nothing like the glowering John Steiner.

“Of course,” she said. “And a cherry on top.”

“Two,” Samuel assured her.

Later that night as she lay awake and relived the hour that she and Samuel had spent sitting outside the ice cream shop, she realized that in many ways it had been their first real date. Always before whenever they were together, other people were there as well—at family meals, at church functions, even working together after the hurricane, they had always been in the company of others. Not tonight though. Tonight it had been just the two of them, and she had to admit that she had enjoyed herself immensely.

For one thing she had never fully appreciated Samuel's dry sense of humor before. But as they shared a huge sundae with all the trimmings and even one made with the chocolate ice cream that he knew she preferred, he had kept her laughing with his wry take on various people in the community.

“And then there's Olive Crowder,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “I owe her a huge debt of gratitude.” “Why?”

“She warned me.”

“About me?”

“About Arlen.”

“Dad? She's always spoken so highly of him.”

Samuel grinned. “And nothing about that has changed. She told me he would treat me like a son, trying to replace your four brothers according to her. She indicated that I would have a great deal to live up to in that department. Olive seemed to think that might be a problem. She's been most vigilant in offering me advice.”

“She means well,” Hester said. “It's just that sometimes she …”

“Oversteps?”

“That's one way of looking at it.”

Samuel scraped the last of the hot fudge from the side of the dish and offered it to her.

“No more,” she protested with a laugh.

He shrugged and licked the spoon. But then he sobered. “I think you might want to watch yourself when she's around.”

“Oh, she's harmless. She's been on my case practically my whole life. I fear I have been a bitter disappointment to her with a few exceptions.”

“Such as?”

“She was surprised, I think, when I cared for my mother for the last five years of her life. In all that time I don't think she could find one single fault with me.”

“Must have driven her crazy,” Samuel said with a grin.

“She's making up for it these days.”

“I kind of heard that the two of you had some words when you were working on the houses by the creek.”

“Kind of heard? How do you kind of hear something?”

He actually blushed. “Rosalyn mentioned it. She wasn't gossiping,” he added hastily. “She was concerned about you, and so am I…. I mean, what if Olive decides to find some concern about you to bring before the congregation?”

“Oh, it's nothing so dire. She's just determined to get me to quit MCC and go to work for CAM. Rosalyn worries about me,” Hester said with a smile.

“So do I.” Samuel stared at her for a long moment, his eyes flitting across her features. “I want you to be happy.”