An Allegheny Homecoming. T. McClure R.
no. She’s years older than I am.” Mrs. Hoffman pressed her lips together. “But Vera is a lovely woman. And she’s been through so much.” She fixed her gaze on something over Wendy’s shoulder. “There’s Fritz. I’ve got to go, dear.”
Wendy zipped her coat and followed the Hoffman couple and Riley through the kitchen, into the parking lot. Someone had left a broom by the door. She grabbed it and carried it to her car, which was covered with two inches of snow in the hour she had been inside. Maybe she should consider the job in Burbank. At least she wouldn’t be freezing to death. Ten minutes later most of the snow had been removed from the windshield. She returned the broom, got into the car and put on her seat belt.
She stopped at the end of the driveway and checked both directions. A looming truck idled in the street, its signal indicating it was turning into the church parking lot. She waved and pulled out. Time to go home.
* * *
AFTER WAITING FOR a small car to exit, Josh pulled into the crowded church parking lot. The massive stone structure with its high bell tower loomed over the neighborhood. The front of the church was dark, but bright lights came from the back door. A generator ran noisily by the side of the building.
“Are you coming in?” With an anxious look, his mother placed a hand on his arm.
“No, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll stay at the cabin tonight. The key still over the door?”
“Oh, Josh, it’s too cold—”
“I’ll be fine, Mom.”
Sue reached into a paper bag on her lap and slipped a package into his jacket pocket. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”
He was about to get out and help his mother from the truck, but Joe was already assisting Sue. He would leave his mother safe at the church, but he had no intention of walking into the brightly lit crowded place. Bad enough that he was home at all. He saw a burly patrolman approach his mother and glance in his direction. It was time to make a quick exit.
He shifted into first gear and was about to take his foot off the brake when he saw the man standing in front of his truck. How did a guy that big move that quickly? Holding up a gloved hand, the officer rounded the truck. He tapped on the driver’s window. “Sergeant Hunter?”
Josh sighed. The last thing he wanted was attention from the local police. He rolled down the window. “Yes, sir?”
“Your mom said you’re home on leave from the army.”
Josh didn’t see the need to say otherwise. He would be gone soon. What did it matter if people thought he was still in the military? “What can I do for you, Officer?” Up close, the policeman was much younger than he had appeared at a distance. His face was round and the reddened cheeks appeared smooth. Not a whisker to be seen, as if he had shaved just minutes earlier.
“I’ve kind of got my hands full.” One eyebrow raised with an unspoken question.
Josh knew what was coming. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay.” Josh moved his hand to the gearshift lever.
The young man stuck his hand through the window. “I’m Bob Williams. Most folks call me Moose.”
Removing his hand from the gearshift, Josh gripped the other man’s hand. He resisted wincing. “Is Stone still the chief of police?”
“No. He died two years ago come January. Mac McAndrews is chief now. Good man.”
Josh didn’t recognize the name. “Well, good luck but—”
“Mac’s wife went into labor tonight.” His broad shoulders lifted in a massive shrug as he grinned. “Figures, huh? And I just heard about an accident on the interstate. The plow trucks can’t keep up with the snow.”
Josh suppressed a groan as he felt himself getting pulled into the town’s crisis. His mother’s empty cabin beckoned. A quiet place in the woods. A fire in the fireplace. A shot of whiskey. A single shot.
“Look, all I need is for someone to pick up Mrs. Hershberger and bring her back to the church. She lives a block from your mom’s bakery. Has a Go Cubs sign in the yard. She doesn’t have family so...” His words trailed off.
Josh drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and pictured snow falling around the cabin, the stack of logs waiting by the door.
Moose’s grin faded. “Look, man, just forget it. I’ve got to keep moving.” He backed away.
The disappointed look on the young man’s face convinced Josh he was being a heel. “Sure, Moose. I know where she lives. I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.” He hesitated, and then thought if he was in for a dime he was in for a dollar. “Anything else?”
“Looks like this truck of yours can go anywhere. Maybe you could check on the Smith brothers. They’re two old guys—”
“Yeah, I remember. They still live on the farm on the other side of Little Bear Creek? That all?”
“I don’t suppose you’re familiar with Last Chance Farm. Two elderly people there, too.”
Josh felt his breath catch in his chest. “I’ve heard of it. Anyone else?”
Moose shook his head, but his gaze was on a caravan of cars turning into the parking lot. “Thanks, man.” His last words were shouted as he moved toward the new arrivals. “Your mom said I could count on you.”
Josh peered out the passenger window and saw his mother outlined in the open door of the church basement. He knew she had a lot of questions for him, but then, he had a lot for her, too. Though with the man from the tea shop in the cab with them, the questions, and the answers, would have to wait. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward his mother’s bakery. He hoped the retired teacher wouldn’t recognize him, that she would be so concerned with getting to the church she wouldn’t pay attention to the driver.
No such luck.
“Joshua Hunter, what are you doing here?” Mrs. Hershberger stood in the doorway of her small ranch house. Wearing a pink tracksuit, she clutched a heavy shawl draped over her shoulders.
His own mother had barely recognized him, how had the teacher? “Taking you to the church, ma’am. The power’s out.”
“I’ll be fine here. Besides, I’m not presentable.” Leaving the door open, she walked into her living room.
Hesitating, Josh looked down at the threshold. He really shouldn’t be here. He stepped into the hall and closed the door. “This blizzard’s forecast to continue through the night, Mrs. Hershberger. Are you sure you don’t want to go over to the church for a while? If you don’t like it, I’ll bring you back home.” Officer Williams had made a simple request, and if there was one thing Josh knew how to do, it was to follow orders.
She stood at the window, holding back the curtain so she could see. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll need a few minutes to get ready.”
Waiting for the older woman as she gathered her belongings, he looked around the living room. The retired teacher lived comfortably, but she certainly wasn’t well-to-do. The matching couch and chair were of a style at least twenty years old. An upright piano stood in one corner of the room. He walked over to look at the pictures on top. Multiple class pictures. First graders. Individual pictures of toothless children were stuck along the edges of the frames. A wedding photo. Josh picked it up. Mrs. Hershberger had been a beautiful woman, her curly hair short and dark. She wore a long white dress. Next to her stood a barrel-chested, muscular man, his hair cut in the buzz-cut style of the sixties.
“My wedding photo.”
Josh jumped. He hadn’t heard the woman return. Putting the picture back in its place, he turned. “Do you need a hand with anything?”
She passed him an overnight bag. “I’m ready.”
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