Shelter From The Storm. Patricia Davids
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stared straight ahead. He had given Gemma the opportunity to apologize for her painful comments about him. Either she still believed he was big and dumb or she didn’t care about his feelings. She once claimed to love him. If she still harbored tender feelings for him, she was hiding it well. His Amish faith demanded that he forgive anyone who had wounded him. He thought he had done so, but having her so close beside him proved some of his resentment remained.
He had been taunted and ridiculed about his size since his school days. He wasn’t the smartest kid in the class, and he knew it. That only made him try harder. He endured the teasing until one day in the fourth grade he hit his antagonist in the face. Wayne Beachy had ended up with a broken jaw. Filled with remorse, Jesse never allowed his temper to take control again. Enduring teasing was far less traumatic than seeing the results of what his fists could do.
That was why his continued resentment of Gemma Lapp troubled him and why she was never far from his thoughts. He didn’t understand his reaction. He only knew she made him uncomfortably aware of his size and his lack of intelligence. Gemma was tiny compared to him. Her sharp wit had made her a favorite among the young people in New Covenant. It was only after her best friend, Bethany, married Michael Shetler that her wit took on a cutting edge.
He should’ve been glad when she decided to move to Florida, but he hadn’t been. For some unknown reason, he had missed her.
She looked at Dale. “What now? Do we wait here, or do we go back to Cleary?”
“I might have a third option.”
“What?” Jesse asked. He had to get to his bank before the close of business today.
Dale half turned in his seat to face them. “You remember that I told you I used to work for a logging company in this area?”
Jesse nodded. “I remember.”
“About two miles back, there is a logging road that cuts off this highway and goes about twenty miles back into the hills. It comes out on this same highway about twenty-five miles up ahead. I figure it’ll be rough in places, but we’ll lose less than two hours of time, which will be better than sitting here waiting for the bridge to be cleared. What do you think?”
“What about the weather?” Jesse asked.
“The snow is letting up. We’ll stay ahead of it.”
“I say go for it,” Gemma said. Clearly the last thing she wanted to do was spend more time than necessary with him.
“What do you say, Jesse?” Dale asked.
“I’ve got to get home by this afternoon.”
Dale grinned and turned the pickup around. “All right, folks. We are about to see some fabulous Maine backcountry wilderness.”
* * *
Dale had been right. Not about the weather, the snow continued, but about the beautiful scenery and the road being rough. It was more of a trail than an actual road. As they bounced along the narrow track through towering pine trees, Jesse and Gemma were constantly tossed against each other. He had been in many uncomfortable situations in his life but none as uncomfortable as trying to remain indifferent to the little woman continually apologizing for jamming her elbow or her shoulder into his side.
She wasn’t doing it on purpose, but that didn’t make it any more comfortable. He was tempted to slip his arm around her and pull her tight against him, but he didn’t. She might think he was trying to take advantage of the situation.
They reached a more open area, and Dale picked up speed. Suddenly, a bull moose galloped out into the road directly in front of them. Dale swerved. Jesse threw his arm across Gemma as he braced for the impact. The moose sprang forward at the last second. Dale missed him but lost control of the pickup and careened into the trees. The front wheels hit a large fallen log and stopped abruptly, throwing them all forward. Gemma slipped from under Jesse’s arm and cried out as she hit the floorboard.
After a few seconds of stunned silence, Jesse pushed himself away from the dash and back onto the seat. “Gemma, are you hurt?”
She had ended up in a crumpled heap on the floor. Dale was slumped behind the steering wheel.
Gemma looked up at Jesse with pain-filled eyes. “Something’s wrong with my ankle. I think it may be broken.” She tried to lever herself up. He stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“Give me a minute.” She flexed her neck, shrugged her shoulders, then opened and closed her hands. She shut her eyes and pressed a hand to her midsection.
“What is it?” he asked, concerned by her stillness.
Sighing, she held out a hand. “It’s just my left foot. Help me up.”
“How bad is it?” He lifted her gently to the seat. The movement caused her to grit her teeth as a deep frown creased her brow.
“Bad enough, but I think I’ll live. Are you okay?”
“A few bumps and bruises.” His right arm hurt where he had braced it against the dashboard, but it was likely a strain and nothing more. He was a little surprised she had asked.
Turning to the driver, Gemma touched his shoulder. “Dale? Dale, are you okay?”
He moaned and sat back, raising a shaky hand to his head. “I’ll get back to you on that. What happened?”
Jesse rubbed his shoulder. “The good news is you missed the moose. The bad news is that you struck something else.” The front end of the truck was tilted up at a fifteen-degree angle.
“Anybody hurt?” Dale blinked rapidly as he tried to focus.
“Gemma thinks her foot is broken. I’m fine. How about you?”
“Other than an aching noggin, I think I’m okay.” He pushed open his door and looked down. “Wow. This is not good.”
Dale turned off the vehicle, got out and squatted to look under it. His expression told Jesse he wasn’t happy with what he saw. Jesse had to force open his door to get out by hitting it with his aching shoulder several times. Gemma stayed put. Her foot had twisted under her awkwardly when she was thrown to the floor. Jesse’s arm had kept her face from smashing into the dashboard.
Jesse and Dale conferred outside. Dale took out his cell phone and held it up, turning from side to side. He slipped it back into his pocket and came to the open driver’s-side door. “Do you think you can walk, Gemma?”
She shook her head, turned sideways and lifted her legs onto the seat. Her right ankle was twice as big as her left one. She peeled down her stocking and hissed at the pain. Her ankle was already turning black-and-blue. “I doubt I can stand on it, let alone walk.”
Dale scooped up a handful of snow and held it against the bump on his head. “This truck isn’t going anywhere. The front tire has busted loose, and the body is high centered on a boulder. It’s going to take a tow truck to lift it off. The problem is, I don’t have phone service in this spot.”
“What are we going to do?” Gemma looked around them at the thick forest.
“We’re gonna have to hoof it to where I can get cell service and call for a tow truck. Maybe we can fix a crutch for you.”
She shook her head. “I’ll wait here. Even hobbling, I’d only slow you down.”
Jesse glanced from Dale to Gemma and back to Dale. “I don’t think we should leave her by herself. I could go, and you could stay here.”
Her eyes widened, and she gave a tiny shake of her head. “I’ll be fine alone for a few hours.” Her smile was half-hearted at best.