The Bachelor's Sweetheart

Tessa found a note written on ivory stationery bordered with lilies of the valley in her grandmother’s perfect penmanship.

I defrosted the leftover beef stew if you want it for supper, and Edna brought over a strawberry-rhubarb pie made with fresh rhubarb from her garden. There’s vanilla ice cream in the freezer. Love, G.

Tessa pulled the container of stew from the refrigerator. If she knew Grandma was well settled with friends, she could look for a job, maybe in Saratoga Springs or Glens Falls. Glens Falls was within commuting distance, if not for the months of bad winter weather. Tessa opened the stew container, and her stomach lurched. But that would mean moving and operating the Majestic weekends only, even during the summer tourist season, or not at all. Wherever she went, she’d have to establish a whole new support system. She’d come to Schroon Lake nearly six years ago and was still working on fitting in. And this was the most comfortable place she’d ever lived.

She replaced the lid on the stew container. Pie and ice cream sounded like a better supper. It had three of the four major food groups—dairy, grain and fruits and vegetables. Her hand lingered on the container after she’d placed it back on the refrigerator shelf, her parents’ frequent reprimand sounding in her head. You have to set an example. You can’t simply choose to do whatever you want.

She should have the stew. What kind of meal was pie and ice cream? Tessa grabbed the pie and closed the refrigerator door. She could have whatever she wanted for supper. There was no one here to set an example of good eating habits for, and Grandma wouldn’t say anything. She cut a large piece of pie and smothered it in ice cream. Her cell phone rang as she polished off the last bite. She checked the number, figuring it could be one of only three people. Grandma checking up on her. Her heart warmed. Josh. The warmth ticked up a degree. Or Uncle Bob, whom she would call back later, or tomorrow.

She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello.”

“Tessa, it’s Maura.”

Her Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor. “Oh, hi.”

“I missed last week’s meeting and wanted to give you my new home phone number. We moved into the house yesterday.”

“Congratulations,” Tessa said.

“Thanks. I’ve got my work cut out for me the next few days unpacking.”

“Me, too. I’m getting the apartment above my grandmother’s garage cleaned out to rent. No one’s lived in it for years.”

“Have fun with that. I wanted to invite you to our housewarming party weekend after next.”

Tessa twisted her hair around her finger. “What day?”

“Saturday evening. Some of the others from the meeting are coming. You can bring a guest.”

“It’ll depend on whether I can get Myles to cover for me.” Relief edged with guilt flowed through her. She was thankful for the excuse. She didn’t know whom she’d bring except her grandmother. Josh didn’t know about her addiction. His hard feelings for his father had made her afraid to tell him and jeopardize their friendship—an accommodation to fitting in, like her drinking had started out as an accommodation to fitting in at college. She’d also chosen AA meetings in other towns where she’d be less likely to run into anyone from church or from the movie theater. Another accommodation.

“I hope you can come. Everything going well?”

“Yes and no.” Tessa told her about the loan for the theater, the contract with Josh for the work and his bomb that he expected to have a job somewhere else by the end of the year. “I don’t know if it’s the project and wanting so badly for it to work out or the thought of my good friend moving, but I’m unsettled.” She dropped her voice. “I wanted a drink last night, for the first time in forever.”

“You should have called me.”

“It went away as quickly as it came, and my grandmother had something she wanted to talk with me about.”

“You know what you have to do with your uncertainty,” Maura said. “Give it up to God.”

“I know. I’ll get back to you about the housewarming.”

“Great. Call if you do need anything, and I’ll see you tomorrow at the meeting.”

“I will. Bye.”

Tessa set her phone down, folded her hands and rested her elbows on the table. “Lord, I know only You can control my life. Direct me away from the pull of my addiction. Help me to know and accept the things I can’t change, like Josh’s inevitable move away from here, from me. I fear that I’ve let myself become too dependent on our friendship, that I’ve exchanged one dependency for another and that my reliance on him could jeopardize my sobriety when he leaves. Guide me to depend on You, the one who is always there for all of us. I place myself in Your hands. Amen.”

* * *

The fire siren went off at the same time Josh received the text. He drove directly to the Schroon Volunteer Fire Department hall, bypassing his original destination, the apartment above Tessa’s grandmother’s garage. A quick glance at the parking lot showed only one other vehicle. He turned off his truck and read the text. An accident on US Route 9, near Paradox Lake, with possible fire potential. An Essex County Sheriff’s deputy was already on the scene.

Josh heard the wind-down of a motorcycle slowing and turned to see Emergency Medical Squad members Jon Hanlon, a local obstetrician, and his wife, Autumn, a midwife, pull in. With only him and one other firefighter here, he still had time to call Tessa and let her know that he probably wouldn’t be over to work on the windows at the apartment tonight.

“Hi,” Tessa said, picking up on the first ring. “You just caught me. I was about to put my phone on vibrate.”

“Right. Monday night video clips.”

Tessa always turned her ringtone off and made him do the same, so any calls or texts wouldn’t interrupt their viewing. He’d forgotten all about their regular Monday date, or rather non-date, yesterday when he’d said he’d stop by the apartment tonight. Josh waited a second for her to ask him to join her.

“You headed over to the apartment?” she asked.

Josh tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “No, that’s why I’m calling. I’m at the fire hall. There’s been an accident on Route 9.”

“I’ll let you go, then. I have to run and meet Myles at the Majestic. He’s interested in learning how I choose the movies to show.”

“Yeah, more people are pulling in. I’ve got to go. I’ll see about the windows tomorrow night.”

“Sure, whenever you get to them. It’s your place now. Bye.”

Josh slammed the truck door behind him. There was no logical reason Tessa watching the video clips with Myles should bother him. He’d encouraged Tessa to make more friends since his plan was to move up the ranks at GreenSpaces somewhere else. But Myles was a kid, a college student, not really their contemporary. Josh strode across the parking lot and into the fire hall. Tom Hill, the fire chief and owner of a car repair shop in Paradox Lake, and his son, Jack, were already suited up.

“Hey, Josh,” Tom said, raising his hand to someone behind him. Jon and Autumn walked by them to the EMS vehicle.

“Grab your gear. It looks like we have enough volunteers now to take the tanker up.”

His brother Connor’s new father-in-law and brother-in-law had come in behind the Hanlons. With so many members working in Ticonderoga and other surrounding villages, getting a crew together could be hard.

Jack took his position behind the wheel of the truck while Josh and the others put on their protective gear. Tom pressed the button to open the hall door, and Jon and Autumn went ahead in the emergency vehicle followed by Tom in his pickup.

Josh and the other guys piled into the truck. Adrenaline rushed through him as the siren screamed and the lights flashed, increased by the fear he had whenever they responded to an accident that someone he knew might be involved.

He spotted the flashing lights of the sheriff car and the EMS vehicle when the fire truck raced through the intersection of Routes 9 and 74. Jack pulled the truck ahead of one of the accident vehicles, a pickup truck with a smashed left fender sprawled diagonally across the two lanes of the highway. The wrecker from Hill’s Garage was already there, along with one from a garage in Schroon Lake. But Josh didn’t see a second vehicle. He hopped off the truck and saw it, a compact station wagon with a crushed top rolled off the road in a small gully, resting against a stand of pine trees. A second emergency vehicle arrived from Newcomb as Jon and Autumn carried a stretcher down the incline.

Tom returned from talking with the deputy who was directing traffic. “A woman and two kids. Doesn’t look good. The other driver is intoxicated.” Tom jerked his head toward the deputy’s car, where a middle-aged man sat staring out the window.

Bile choked Josh. The unkempt dark hair and strong profile reminded him of his father. He turned away and caught his breath. It wasn’t him. Dad was dead, had been for nine years.

“Let’s get the hose and extinguishers down there. The jaws of life, too,” Tom commanded.

Josh joined his fellow volunteers, glad for the action to stop his thoughts. When he and the rest of the team reached the car, Jon and Autumn had a small unconscious form on the stretcher. He swallowed hard. The child looked about Hope’s age, maybe a little younger.

The child’s eyes opened. “Mommy?”

“We’re working on getting her out,” Autumn reassured him.

“There’s a woman and another child trapped inside,” Jon reported to Tom. “We talked to the little boy. The woman is unresponsive. Moriah and Newcomb are on their way.”