“Amelia, I see you’re dressed for outdoor work, so you go with Chase, and…”

Stunned by this turn of events, Amelia didn’t hear the rest of Rick’s assignments. She could not spend the day alone with Chase!

When Chase appeared at her side, saying quietly, “This will be like old times,” Amelia knew it was too late to refuse politely. Were her steps destined to travel a path that would disrupt the even current of life she’d developed in the post-Chase era, as she always thought of the last fifteen years?

The eagerness in Chase’s clear gray eyes was disconcerting, and she forced herself to regard him dispassionately, as she might look at a stranger. Amelia considered the man facing her to be a stranger. Very little that she’d noted in the short time they’d spent together yesterday had reminded her of the man who’d loved her, married her and disillusioned her so thoroughly that she had no interest in marrying again.

IRENE BRAND

Writing has been a lifelong interest of this author, who says that she started her first novel when she was eleven years old and hasn’t finished it yet. However, since 1984, she’s published thirty-two contemporary and historical novels and three nonfiction titles. She started writing professionally in 1977, after she completed her master’s degree in history at Marshall University. Irene taught in secondary public schools for twenty-three years, but retired in 1989 to devote herself to writing.

Consistent involvement in the activities of her local church has been a source of inspiration for Irene’s work. Traveling with her husband, Rod, to all fifty states and to thirty-two foreign countries has also inspired her writing. Irene is grateful to the many readers who have written to say that her inspiring stories and compelling portrayals of characters with strong faith have made a positive impression on their lives. You can write to her at P.O. Box 2770, Southside, WV 25187 or visit her Web site at www.irenebrand.com.

Second Chance at Love
Irene Brand

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

—Psalms 91:11

With appreciation to:

Bill Davis, County Emergency Director,

Mingo County, West Virginia;

Cecil E. Hatfield, Executive Director,

Tug Valley Chamber of Commerce;

Judy & Tom Ashley, Red Cross volunteers,

Putnam County, West Virginia;

Charlie Erwin, Office Coordinator, Red Cross,

Putnam County, West Virginia.

Dear Reader,

By now, you’ve finished reading Second Chance at Love. Hopefully, you’re cheering for Chase and Amelia and sharing the joy of their reconciliation.

During the writing of this book, my mind has often dwelt on God’s willingness—indeed, eagerness—to give His people new opportunities to live abundant lives. Not only does He give the second chance, but the third, fourth, fifth—limitless opportunities for reconciliation with Him. No matter how many times we mess up our lives, His arm is outstretched to lift us from the mire of our mistakes. There is no problem so great that God cannot solve it.

Consider people in the Bible who have been favored with second chances—Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Samson, David, Peter and Paul. Although these people of faith are often remembered for their failures, we rejoice in knowing that they rose above their mistakes and took another opportunity to be faithful in God’s service.

Whatever mistakes we’ve made, God is willing and able to give other chances to serve Him.

May God bless you.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter One

Amelia Stone didn’t consider herself an impetuous woman until she said, “I want to go and help. Can you manage without me for three weeks?” Many times during the following few days, she questioned this comment to her supervisor.

After her usual morning routine, when Amelia had entered the American Red Cross office, she’d greeted Tom Matney, her supervisor, picked up a cup of coffee and gone to her computer to check the local and national news.

“Six dead, ten missing in flood,” she’d read aloud.

“Where?” Tom asked.

“In southern West Virginia.”

Amelia continued reading the computer message. “Several areas have been inundated with floodwaters from the Tug Fork River, a border stream between West Virginia and Kentucky.”

Before Amelia had finished reading the account of death and destruction, Tom laid a fax sheet on her desk—a call for help from the West Virginia Red Cross. She experienced an overwhelming urge to answer that call. Amelia wasn’t naturally impulsive, so her reaction to this emergency surprised her, as well as her supervisor.

Tom had stared at her with incredulous eyes when she volunteered. A fourteen-year employee of the American Red Cross, Amelia had been exposed to many national tragedies, but she’d always been content to remain at her desk to do her part in helping the unfortunate.

“We’re very busy, as you know,” Tom said slowly, “but we must send help. Speed is of the essence in a calamity like this. If you can get ready to go today, I’ll round up other volunteers to follow you as soon as possible.”

The sudden devastation that had wrecked almost five thousand homes was enough to stir anyone’s sympathy, and Amelia had felt a wave of compassion that she’d never known before. She was a warmhearted person, but never until this moment had she felt the need to physically help others.

By midafternoon, Amelia had left Philadelphia and was on her way to West Virginia. After her sudden decision, she’d made arrangements for a volunteer worker to take over her office duties. She’d gone to her apartment, packed her car with everything she thought she would need for three weeks and headed south in her Buick, a Christmas gift from her parents. Only then had she taken time to consider her hasty action.

Having been pampered by rich parents for years, Amelia decided in her late twenties to seek a more worthwhile life than the one she’d had up to that time. She’d gained a new social perspective when she became a Christian, and a sense of mission had led Amelia to work for the Red Cross. She knew she’d been of service as an office worker, so why did she have this sudden urge, at the mellow age of forty-three, to become personally involved?

Last night, during her devotional time, Amelia had read the apostle Paul’s experience in the first century when he’d received a call to take the Gospel into Macedonia. “After Paul had seen the vision, we got ready at once to leave for Macedonia, concluding that God had called us to preach the Gospel to them.”

Paul’s experience fresh in her mind may have been the reason she’d responded so readily to the plight of the flood victims. But, to Amelia, it seemed more than that—it felt as if she’d had no control over the decision she’d made. As if there was no option at all—that God was directing her life in a way He had never done before.

“Why, God?” Amelia asked more than once as she traveled. When she reached Charleston, West Virginia, the next day, she still didn’t have an answer.

She was welcomed heartily by the representatives at the Red Cross office on Virginia Street. The secretary informed Amelia she couldn’t drive into the flood-ravaged area.

“Traffic is at a standstill in that part of the state,” the woman said. “Roads and bridges have been destroyed, and many communities are completely isolated by the floodwaters. The National Guard is sending helicopters to rescue stranded people. The next flight goes in an hour, and they’re taking a few volunteers. There’s room for you. Take only absolute necessities. As soon as the water recedes, you can come back for your car.”

Amelia wasn’t thrilled about a helicopter ride, but she accepted it as readily as if she flew to work every day. She gathered a few changes of clothing and her toiletries, dumped them in a duffel bag and headed for the airport, where she parked her car and boarded the waiting helicopter.

The mountainous region didn’t have enough flat land for an airport, and Yeager Airport was located on a wide expanse that had been formed by leveling several mountain peaks and filling in the valleys. The noise from the helicopter’s whirling blades discouraged talking with the ten other volunteers on board, so Amelia focused her attention on the scenery. She looked with interest at the tugboat traveling northward on the big river that divided the city of Charleston. The golden dome of the state’s Capitol gleamed in the midday sunlight.

The city was soon lost to view and the terrain became more rugged. Wooded mountain areas were bisected by narrow valleys, and to Amelia, who’d always lived in large cities, the scenery was breathtaking. At the higher altitudes, the trees were leafless, but dogwood and redbud trees decorated the landscape with a mist of white and fuchsia blossoms. Numerous towns had been built along the banks of mountain streams. Frequently, the barrenness of strip mines marred her enjoyment of the scenery.

As they approached the flooded area, Amelia noticed that the mountains had been timbered. Discarded branches, left behind after logging, had blocked many streams. The absence of vegetation had no doubt contributed to a swift runoff of melted snow and heavy rains.

Amelia couldn’t believe the havoc she saw when she looked down upon the flooded area as the helicopter neared the town of Williamson. The major business district was protected by a floodwall, but in the outlying districts, uprooted trees were coated with layers of mud and trash. Roads were washed away. Piles of rubble filled entire hollows where neighborhoods had once stood. Only the tops of automobiles and trucks protruded from the muddy water.

The helicopter landed on the pad at Williamson Memorial Hospital where a van waited to take them to Red Cross headquarters at Mountainview Church. As they rode toward the church in the van, Amelia sat beside a young woman, who was probably still in her teens.

“Hi, I’m Vicky Lanham,” the girl said. “I live in Ohio, near Columbus. Our church keeps a semitrailer outfitted for emergencies like this. Two of our members brought the truck to the area, but I took a plane into Charleston. I’ve never seen anything like the destruction we saw from the ‘copter.”

“I work for the American Red Cross in Philadelphia,” Amelia answered. “I usually stay in the office and handle the paperwork, but I volunteered to come onsite, and here I am.” She paused, wondering if her doubts were apparent to the young woman, but then continued. “I’m not sure what I’ve gotten myself into.”

“It’s gonna be a lot of hard work, but my parents prodded me into coming,” Vicky said. “I think God is calling me to be a missionary, and Dad said that some primitive living and hard work here will be a good introduction to what I can expect on the mission field. Why did you volunteer?”

“I’m not sure,” Amelia admitted. “I just had the overwhelming belief that I should take this assignment.”

“Maybe God was pushing you, just like my parents prodded me.”

Amelia laughed. “You might have a point there. It will be good for us to gain a new understanding of how God’s work is accomplished on the raw side of life.”

The van labored up the steep incline and stopped before a sprawling, two-story stone church building. “If this is our headquarters, life can’t be too bad. By the way, my name is Amelia Stone, and I’m looking forward to working with you.”

The church was built on a mountain above the floodplain, and the Red Cross had opened a service center in the building. After the volunteers had introduced themselves, the director of Red Cross operations in the region—a tall, gangly man in his fifties—assigned Vicky and Amelia to jobs immediately.

“I’m Rick Smith,” he said. “And you’re as welcome here as the flowers in May.” To Vicky, he said, “Your church’s truck has arrived, even though the men had to take a roundabout route to get here. We’ll start handing out the supplies they brought as soon as you get settled.”

“I have my laptop, so I can set up shop wherever you want me to,” Amelia said.

“Good,” Rick said. “Let’s go into the gymnasium. That’s where the men from Ohio are unloading their supplies. Three dozen flood victims stayed here last night. You can start processing their applications for help right away.”

Vicky and Amelia preceded him into the crowded gym, and tears of compassion stung Amelia’s eyes when she saw the bedraggled people staring at them. The elderly, the middle-aged and several children sat quietly in the room, no evidence of hope in their bleak eyes.

God, she prayed silently. These people have lost everything except You. Be very near them today. Use me as Your instrument to bring peace to their hearts.

Amelia sat at the folding table Rick Smith brought and started her computer. While she waited for her programs to appear on the screen, her fingers drummed idly on the table as she glanced around the large room. Two men were carrying buckets, mops, brooms, cartons of bottled water and cartons of cleaning supplies into the gym. Amelia surmised that they were the men from Vicky’s church.

A quick breath of astonishment burst from Amelia’s lips as she took a closer look at one of the men. Even his back looked familiar. He could be a Red Cross representative she’d met before, though she thought the recognition went beyond that.

As she watched, the man turned, and a shock of disbelief shattered her composure. Although his fair, wavy hair was silvering a bit at the temples, and the years had etched deeper lines on his face, there was no mistaking the classic features and clear gray eyes of Chase Ramsey. Imagine meeting him again after fifteen years!

Amelia’s stomach knotted and she shuddered inwardly. She lowered her eyes, hoping Chase wouldn’t recognize her.

God, I’m not ready for this. If Chase is the reason You brought me to West Virginia, I’m ready to go home now.

Amelia had thought she’d put the past behind her, but obviously, she needed more time to erase the grief Chase had caused her. And she was suddenly overcome with a sense of loss when she considered that, in all probability, Chase might be married.

Chase Ramsey straightened from placing a large carton of bottled water on the floor. He waved at Vicky, and his gaze rested on the woman beside her as he turned to bring in another load of supplies. He stopped in his tracks. Instantly aware of his scrutiny, Amelia looked up, and recognition dawned in his eyes. He walked quickly across the room.

“Of all places to meet you!” Chase said as he reached for Amelia’s hand. The surprise in his eyes was replaced by pleasure as he admired Amelia. Still as beautiful as ever, he thought, wondering if he should have been more discreet. Remembering her harsh words at their last encounter, he realized that Amelia might not share his joy in this meeting.

Amelia was still a graceful woman, of medium height in her early forties. She held her well-formed body erect. Heavy brown hair surrounded her pale golden skin, and she looked at him with enormous dark eyes. Her lips parted in a slight smile, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Amelia had always worn expensive clothes, and Chase thought she looked like a harbinger of spring in her sea-green pants suit and floral print blouse.

Amelia placed her hand in his, saying calmly, “Hello, Chase.” She hoped he wasn’t aware of the anxiety and frustration churning in her stomach.

Rick Smith and Vicky watched this reunion, and Rick said, “Apparently you’ve met before.”

“Guess you could say that,” Chase said, grinning broadly. “Have you been introduced? Rick, this is Amelia…” He paused, and looked questioningly at Amelia’s left hand.

“It’s still Stone,” she said with an unreadable expression.

“Well, a lot could have happened since I’ve seen you, so I didn’t know.”

“I’ve already met Rick, and Vicky, too,” she said.

“Do you live in this area, Amelia?”

Conscious that Chase still held her hand, she pulled it from his grasp. “No, I’m here as a volunteer to help the flood victims. I came in a National Guard helicopter a short time ago.”

“And we have to get to work,” Rick said, fidgeting from one foot to another.

“Sorry,” Chase apologized. “We can talk this evening, Amelia. It’s good to see you again.”

Amelia looked after Chase as he returned to work. The knit shirt and well-worn jeans he wore enhanced his muscular physique. Chase was slightly taller than she was, and his compact, lean body moved with easy grace. Physically, he had changed very little since the last time they’d seen each other.

“I’m surprised that you know Mr. Ramsey,” Vicky said at her elbow.

“What?” Amelia had forgotten about the girl. “Oh, yes, we were in college together. How’d you know him?”

“He’s one of the men who came from our church with the truck full of supplies.”

Chase, a church member? What a surprise! When Amelia had known him, he wouldn’t have been found inside a church. And neither would I, she thought with a wry smile. She wanted to question Vicky about Chase, but people were queuing up in front of her, so Amelia turned her attention to helping them.

The afternoon’s activities allowed no time for reflection as she screened and approved applications from people whose homes had been destroyed by water or mud slides. Those who needed medication got attention first, and when Chase finished unloading the truck, he used the church van to drive several people to another town where, with Red Cross vouchers, they could buy their medicine.

When the center closed at six-thirty, Amelia stood, wearily stretching her back muscles and flexing her fingers. Delicious odors wafted from the church’s kitchen, and Amelia realized that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The pastor of the church, Allen Chambers, approached Vicky and Amelia.

“We’re housing flood victims in the gym, but we have temporary facilities for you and the male workers on the second floor. Bring your luggage, and I’ll show you to your quarters so you can freshen up a bit before we eat.”

As Amelia and Vicky followed Allen Chambers upstairs, he explained, “We have a day school here at the church, but classes have been canceled during this crisis. We’re fortunate to have enough space to provide a service center.”

He opened a door into the primary department. “There are rest room facilities in here, a bit small for you, but I thought we should leave the larger rooms next door for the men. More workers will be here tomorrow, but you won’t be crowded tonight.” Grinning, Allen Chambers pointed to a stack of cots and bed linens.

“We don’t have maid service, so you’ll have to fix your own beds.”

Amelia had grown up with maid service, but after she started making her own living, she couldn’t afford to pay anyone to clean for her. A long roll of thunder reverberated around the building and gusts of rain struck the windows.

“It’s raining again!” Vicky cried. “What are these people going to do?”

“It is bad,” the pastor said. “And the worst part, many of these victims had their homes destroyed less than a year ago. This is the second time in a few months they’ve been left homeless. Well, anyway, I’ll see you at dinnertime,” Allen Chambers said, and closed the door after him.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Vicky said.

“He’s very handsome,” Amelia agreed, but at Vicky’s next comment, she knew they weren’t thinking about the same man.

“He seems kind of young to be the pastor of a big church like this.”

A brawny man, Allen Chambers’s strong face was marked by freckles. His light blue eyes were deep-set in his face, and he had an outgoing personality. Cute? Perhaps he was, Amelia thought, but when compared to Chase’s lean body, Chambers’s bulk seemed overwhelming to her.

Amelia took a quick wash in a lavatory whose facilities weren’t higher than her knees, and after Vicky took her turn, they spread sheets and blankets on their cots while Vicky chattered about the unfortunate flood victims. Amelia tried to give the correct responses to her companion’s comments, but her thoughts were in the past.

She’d met Chase when she was a junior in college. He was the most popular man on campus. He’d dated a lot of women, so she had a lot of competition and considered herself fortunate when he’d focused his exclusive attention on her. Now he was back in her life after fifteen years. Was she pleased or sorry to see him again?

Amelia had no answer for that question. She’d changed a lot, and probably Chase had, too. Her reaction to meeting him today had been annoyance more than anything else. She was getting along fine as she was—she no longer had any desire for masculine companionship. She and Chase had enjoyed being together, and were compatible in many ways. Yet something had always seemed to be missing, something to make their happiness complete. When she’d accepted the Lord into her life, she knew immediately what they’d lacked to have a satisfying relationship.

According to Vicky, Chase was active in his church, so he’d had a change of heart, too. Would this mutual interest make a difference in any future encounters they might share?

Chapter Two

Amelia knew she couldn’t put Chase off if he wanted to talk to her, but she was relieved that they didn’t have time to visit during dinner. The volunteer staff mingled with the flood victims, and Chase and she didn’t have an opportunity to speak in the dining room. Her thoughts were diverted from him as she listened to the heartbreaking stories the victims told of their narrow escapes from the floodwaters.

She sat across the table from an elderly couple, Josh and Mandy Newberry, who seemed bewildered by what had happened.

“We’ve lived in that holler for most of our lives,” Josh said in a deep voice. “And this is the first time we’ve ever been flooded out. There have been little floods, but nothing like this one.”

“Everything we’ve saved all those years is gone,” Mandy said in a quavering voice, tears in her eyes. “If I’d just had time to save the pictures of my young’uns! All my memories are gone, too.”

Josh patted her hand. “No, Mandy. Your memories ain’t gone. And we’ll make out all right. We’ve got the good Lord on our side. He’s seen us through a lot of other trouble, and He’ll see us through this’n.”

Amelia’s throat tightened in compassion, but she smiled at the Newberrys. “That’s right. One of my favorite Scriptures is ‘I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging bread.’ God will provide for you, and He’s sent me and many other people to help you.” She gripped each of their right hands. “Try to get a good night’s sleep. Maybe the sun will shine tomorrow.”

“God bless you, young lady,” Mandy said. “You’ve already perked me up.”

Amelia left the dining room to go upstairs to her quarters, seeking some privacy. She was surprised, and annoyed, at the emotional turmoil she was experiencing because she’d encountered Chase again. She’d voluntarily walked away from him fifteen years ago without a backward glance, and as the years passed, often weeks would go by when she didn’t think about him. So why had Chase’s surprise appearance sent her pulses spinning? Why was she filled with unease at being around him in this cleanup effort?

Chase had been visiting with Allen Chambers when Amelia left the gym, and she’d hoped to escape talking to him tonight. Instead of going to the cubbyhole she’d be sharing with Vicky, Amelia followed the signs to the chapel, a small room with an altar, a lectern, a few pews and an illuminated cross in the background that dimly lit the room. She knelt by the altar to pray, but words were hard to find. She did pray for the flood victims, asking for strength and wisdom to make a difference in their lives. Since she didn’t know how to pray about Chase, she simply asked for guidance in every aspect of her life during these weeks she’d be spending in the mountains.

When she rose from her knees, Amelia had the sensation that she wasn’t alone. She turned quickly.

Chase leaned gracefully against the doorframe. His stunning good looks captured her attention as if she was seeing him for the first time. He’d changed from the shorts he’d worn earlier. His tailored brown slacks revealed a lean, sinewy, youthful body. His waist and hips were thin, but his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his brightly colored shirt, which emphasized the gold flecks in his gray eyes. Chase had always looked well put together, like a male model.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. “Maybe this is a good place for us to talk?” He spoke hesitantly, as if he doubted his welcome.

Amelia’s head swirled with doubts, and she experienced momentary panic, but she didn’t want him to know her feelings. “Why not? It’s quiet here,” she said calmly.

“Looks like a good place to me,” he agreed.

They sat on the front pew, not close, but in comfortable conversing distance. Several minutes passed in tense silence, each of them waiting for the other to speak. What could they say to bridge fifteen years?

“The Amelia Stone I knew wouldn’t be praying in a chapel,” Chase said at last. In the dim light, his gray eyes seemed dark and unfathomable.

“Thanks to God, that Amelia Stone is gone.” She seemed to be in a Scripture-quoting mood today, Amelia thought humorously as she continued. “‘If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation, the old has gone, the new has come!’ Vicky tells me that you’re a member of her church, so you’re probably familiar with that verse.”

“Yes. It’s true for me, too. I’ve been a Christian for several years.”

“Then neither of us is the person we used to be, which is for the best, I think.”

“What are you doing now, Amelia? I never meant to lose track of you, but the years passed quickly.”

“I’d had enough of being a rich man’s kid, so I left home to make it on my own. I wanted a job that would make a difference in other people’s lives, so I went to work for the Red Cross in Philadelphia. I’ve been there for several years. My parents never did have much time for me, so I’m pretty much on my own.” She scanned his face briefly. “Now it’s your turn.”

“I’m working at a bank in Worthington, Ohio. I transferred there from Chicago twelve years ago.”

She took a deep breath and plunged into chancy territory. “I assume you’re married?”

“No, I haven’t married.”

A tremor touched her lips and, hoping he hadn’t noticed, she changed the subject. “How long are you going to be here in Mingo County?” Amelia asked.

He paused thoughtfully, before he answered. “I’d only intended to unload our truck and go back home, but if I can arrange to take some of my vacation now, I might stay for a few weeks. I didn’t realize the extent of the disaster until I got here.”

“Neither did I. I want to help as much as possible, and I need some rest. It’s been a long day.”

Uncomfortable with the knowledge that Chase might extend his stay, Amelia stood and headed toward the door. She’d be more comfortable emotionally if he went back to Ohio. Was he really concerned about the flood victims, or was he staying because of her?

Chase walked alongside her to the door of her sleeping quarters. “My buddy and I are in the room next door,” he said. “If you need anything, pound on the wall, and I’ll hear you.”

“Thanks. See you in the morning.”

Chase walked into his room, thankful that his friend from the church was already sleeping. He undressed quietly, turned off the light and lay on the cot, wide-eyed. He’d been awake for almost twenty-four hours. He should be ready to sleep, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Amelia. Memories of the past plagued his mind. He remembered much about their time together—memories he’d be better off forgetting. Seeing what Amelia had become, he realized anew what a big mistake he’d made when he’d let her slip out of his life.

He stirred uneasily on the cot, a very uncomfortable place to sleep, but that wasn’t the cause of his distress. His marriage to Amelia had lasted for almost five years, and he kept remembering the intimate moments they’d shared. He was even more restless when he remembered the reason for their divorce, and who was to blame.

Amelia awakened sluggishly, her befuddled mind hazily questioning why she was sleeping on a board instead of her comfortable mattress. She stretched, turned over and barely missed tumbling off the narrow cot onto the floor. Her eyes popped open as reality surfaced. She was in a disaster area of West Virginia, not her Philadelphia apartment.

Cloud-darkened daylight crept into the schoolroom where she slept in the company of Vicky, who had abandoned her narrow bed and was curled up, kittenlike, on the floor with a yellow blanket wrapped around her. Rubbing the crick in her neck and her aching back muscles, Amelia thought the floor might have been preferable to the cot.

Amelia stifled her moment of self-pity, remembering that many people on the first floor of the building not only didn’t have a comfortable bed, but no home to put one in. Moving quietly so she wouldn’t disturb Vicky, Amelia stood, stretched her stiff muscles and went to the bathroom. Allen Chambers had mentioned last night that there was a shower room adjacent to the gymnasium, but Amelia knew the disaster victims would need that facility. She took a skimpy sponge bath with water from the lavatory.

She dressed in heavy socks, jeans, a pullover sweater and the knee-high waterproof boots her supervisor had insisted that she must have. Even though it was late April, this mountainous area was cold.

Pastor Chambers had mentioned that the church women would be serving breakfast at seven o’clock. When Amelia finished dressing, it was half-past six. She called Vicky’s name quietly, and the girl awakened immediately, seemingly none the worse for sleeping on the floor all night. Youth! Amelia thought enviously, when she compared the young woman’s bright and cheery attitude to her own low spirits. She doubted, though, that the uncomfortable cot was the only cause of her wretchedness this morning.

Amelia was usually more peppy upon awakening, and she knew that her exhaustion resulted from mental—rather than physical—fatigue. She hadn’t rested physically, because an overburdened mind had contributed to her restless night. Why had running into Chase caused her so much misery? She’d occasionally wondered how seeing him again would affect her. She’d never expected to experience the devastating anguish that had seared her heart the moment she had seen her ex-husband yesterday.

Memories of the past smothered Amelia, and she called to Vicky, who was still in the bathroom. “I’m going out for some fresh air. I’ll meet you in the gym.”

Leaving by the front door of the church, Amelia walked to the crest of the hill and looked out over the river valley. Below her, a two-lane highway, far above the river, provided some transportation. No trains moved along the railroad track at the base of the mountain, because the tracks were blocked by a floodwall gate. The Tug Fork River, the border between West Virginia and Kentucky, lapped several feet on the wall that protected the town of Williamson.

Remembering the devastation she’d seen from the helicopter, Amelia’s faith faltered momentarily. Why did God allow such destruction? She considered the apostle Paul and the many terrible things that happened to him. His faith had remained steadfast during all of his trials. Why bad things happen to good people was a question she’d never been able to answer.

Amelia hadn’t volunteered for this mission to ask questions. She was here to help troubled people, and she had to put aside her spiritual doubts and personal turmoil. Wondering what her duties would be today, Amelia turned back toward the church, praying that God would use her to make a difference in the lives of the flood victims.

After breakfast, Rick Smith stood on a small platform and called for their attention.

“I want to thank all of you volunteers for your prompt response to our needs. I’ve lived in this area all of my life, and I’ll quickly give you a brief rundown on our history. The first settlers arrived in the late eighteenth century, but the town of Williamson was organized a hundred years later. The heyday of our town was during the early twentieth century. Our population today is about five thousand, half of what it was a century ago. Many of our historic buildings were destroyed by frequent floods before we had floodwall protection, and many were razed to make room for the floodwall. Although it’s not what it used to be, Williamson is still a good place to live, and I hope you’ll feel welcome in the area.

“Today’s most urgent need is to find out how many people need help and to provide as much comfort as possible until more volunteers and supplies arrive.

“As soon as the roads are passable, several out-of-state churches will send portable kitchens and a staff to operate them,” he said. “They’ll do the cooking in a few central places, and our volunteers will take the food to the disaster areas. Today we need to canvas all of the flooded areas we can reach, see what the needs are and help as many people as we can. We can’t provide hot food today, but Chase and his buddy brought a lot of canned juice, water and snacks.”

“How long will it be before we can reach all the flooded areas?” a volunteer asked.

“The floodwaters are receding now, but representatives of the U.S. Corps of Engineers say that it will be weeks before we can drive into all of the affected areas. A lot of infrastructure has been destroyed. Go today prepared to hike into areas where the roads are impassable.”

“When will more Red Cross volunteers arrive?” someone in the crowd asked.

Rick Smith shook his head. “I don’t know. The National Guard brought in a few, but their helicopters are busy rescuing stranded people now. There are several truckloads of supplies stalled at the highway rest stop near Beckley, waiting to be delivered. As soon as the roads are open, we’ll have hundreds of helpers. It will be several days before we can get all of our supplies, emergency vehicles and more volunteers. In the meantime, we’ll make do with what we have. Today, I’m assigning you in teams of two to go out and assess the needs and help where possible.”

Rick Smith answered several questions from the flood victims, who wanted to know when they could go home. Over five inches of rain had fallen on the area in a twelve-hour period, and many people had escaped the rapidly rising water with nothing more than the clothes they were wearing. Understandably, they were anxious about the possessions, pets and neighbors they’d had to leave behind.

After he compassionately explained that it might be days before the people could leave this temporary shelter, Rick Smith asked, “Have any of you volunteers ever driven a Jeep?”

Amelia hadn’t seen Chase all morning, and she was startled when his voice sounded close behind her.

“I did, during my four-year stint in the army. I probably haven’t forgotten how.”

Amelia was surprised to learn that Chase had been in the army. That had apparently happened after they’d broken up.

Another man indicated that he’d once owned a Jeep, and Rick Smith said, “Good. We’ve borrowed a couple of Jeeps from the National Guard until we can get our rental vehicles, so you guys can drive them and scout out some of the isolated hollows today.” His gaze scanned the few volunteers.

“Amelia, I see you’re dressed for outdoor work, so you go with Chase, and…”

Stunned by this turn of events, Amelia didn’t hear the rest of the assignments. She could not spend the day alone with Chase! Her erratic heartbeat almost took her breath away, and she became more uncomfortable as her dismay increased.

Rick had moved on with the daily plans, not giving Amelia the opportunity to accept or reject the assignment.

When Chase appeared at her side, saying quietly, “This will be like old times,” Amelia knew it was too late to politely refuse. Were her steps destined to travel a path that would disrupt the even current of life she’d developed in the post-Chase era, as she always thought of the last fifteen years?

The eagerness in Chase’s clear gray eyes was disconcerting, and she forced herself to regard him dispassionately, as she might look at a stranger. Amelia considered the man facing her was a stranger. Very little that she’d noted in the short time they’d spent together yesterday had reminded her of the man who’d loved her, married her and disillusioned her so thoroughly that she had no interest in marrying again.

Chapter Three

Amelia decided to accept the inevitable. She wouldn’t be able to avoid contact with Chase, but she was determined to prevent him from hurting her again.

“While you load provisions in the Jeep, I’ll bring my laptop,” she said, praying that her casual tone would convince Chase that he was no more to her than a business acquaintance. Which was true, wasn’t it? “I can use the computer to record our findings,” she added.

Amelia went to her makeshift bedroom for the laptop and a hooded plastic parka, because more rain was predicted today. She filled a tote bag with personal items she might need.

Seated in a camouflaged Jeep, Chase waited in front of the church, and he handed her a white Disaster Relief vest with a red band around the bottom and a large red cross on the back. “We have to wear these all the time when we’re out on a volunteer mission.”

The Jeep didn’t have any doors, just a fabric roof, so Amelia climbed in beside Chase and adjusted the seat belt. She removed a woolen cloche from her tote and put it on her head. She pitched the tote into the back seat, opened her laptop, steadying it on her knees.

“Let’s go,” she said.

How could a man wearing a heavy woolen jacket, jeans, a pair of rubber boots and a hat covered with plastic appear attractive? On Chase, the work clothes lent an air of masculinity that enhanced his handsome features.

Thunder sounded in the distance and a few sprinkles accumulated on the windshield.

“It was a good idea to bring your parka. I have a raincoat on the back seat if I need it,” he said.

Chase nosed the Jeep toward the edge of the mountain and down the steep incline toward the river valley. After driving a few miles eastward on the paved highway, he turned left on a narrow, rutted, muddy road, and shifted into four-wheel drive. Red clay mud flew in all directions as, with difficulty, he maneuvered the Jeep upward along the hazardous mountain terrain.

“Are you sure this is the right road?” Amelia said as she clutched the seat with both hands.

“I’m beginning to wonder. Rick Smith said to take the first road to the left, but this must not have been the one he meant.” Glancing over his shoulder at the steep, crooked road, he said, “I can’t go back now.”

The road wound up and down and around the mountain, and within fifteen minutes, sweat dripped from Chase’s forehead into his eyes. Knowing he didn’t dare take his hands from the steering wheel, Amelia held on with one hand and took a handful of tissues from her pocket. She wiped the moisture from his face. Her fingers tingled when they brushed the day-old stubble of his whiskers, reminding her of the days when she’d awakened at his side, her smooth face resting against his scratchy one.

“Thanks,” he said.

His words stuck in his throat as they entered a sharp dip and the front wheels of the Jeep dropped into a demolished culvert. The decline was so sudden that, in spite of her seat belt, Amelia’s body bounced forward and her head hit the windshield.

“Ouch!” she said.

Struggling to pull the Jeep out of the gaping ditch, Chase couldn’t spare her a glance, but he asked quickly, “Are you hurt?”

“Not much. Don’t worry about me. Just get out of the ditch. I’d hate to be stranded up here.”

In an attempt to control the twisting and turning vehicle as it writhed like a serpent in the sticky, reddish mud, Chase gunned the engine and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. When he maneuvered the Jeep to level ground, Chase stopped and lowered his head on the wheel, his shoulders heaving as he struggled for breath.

“I don’t know if I can take much more of this. I’ve never driven on such a road.”

“Road? This isn’t a road—it’s a disaster!” Amelia took a small bottle of water from her tote. “Want a drink?”

“And how!” Chase said. He unscrewed the lid and gulped more than half of the water. “I don’t know what to do now, but I guess we’ll keep going forward—it couldn’t be any worse than retracing our route.”

“I shouldn’t think so,” Amelia agreed.

Shifting into gear, Chase said, “Talk to me while I drive. You’re too quiet.”

Torn by conflicting emotions, Amelia chose her words carefully. “This road has scared me silent, and I don’t know what to say to you, anyway. Maybe you haven’t been upset by our surprise reunion, but it’s been awkward for me. I don’t want to talk about the past, and this flood disaster isn’t a pleasant subject.”

“Then talk about your parents. How are they?”

“I don’t see much of them. You know that Mother and Dad had been married ten years when I was born, and they’d already molded their marriage without a child. When I went home after our divorce, Mother insisted that I move into my own apartment. I assumed that a divorced daughter was an embarrassment to them, that their friends would think they hadn’t guided me correctly. Since I didn’t think they’d want me living in the same town, I moved out of state. After Dad retired, they sold their holdings in Illinois and moved to Hilton Head permanently. I never did fit into their plans. I used to resent that, but I’ve gotten over it.”

As she continued, Chase wondered if she had come to terms with her parents’ neglect.

“To make up for their lack of devotion, they offered to give me a generous monthly allowance to cover all my needs. They didn’t like it when I got a job. I convinced them that I can make it on my own, but they still shower me with gifts. They bought a new Buick, which I didn’t want, for Christmas. I make enough money to buy a car when I need one, but I was perfectly satisfied with my five-year-old Volkswagen.”

Her parents had liked Chase and, without knowing the circumstances, had blamed Amelia for the divorce. She’d remained silent, letting them believe what they wanted to. On the other hand, Chase’s parents had always resented Amelia, and were pleased when he, in their words, “got rid of her.”

In spite of his preoccupation with the difficult driving, Chase remembered that Amelia’s parents had bought costly, and often inappropriate, gifts for her birthday and Christmas, but that hadn’t compensated for the lack of their presence. After they’d spent thousands of dollars to give Amelia a lavish wedding, they seemed to think they’d done their duty by her. They occasionally stopped to see Amelia and Chase, but only for brief visits on their way to business conferences or frequent vacations. The Stones took a cruise each Christmas, and Amelia had spent few holidays with her parents after graduating from high school. And since his parents didn’t like Amelia, Chase hadn’t gone home for holidays, either, until after their divorce.

After a mile or two of torturous travel, the mountain road dipped into a hollow and joined a graveled road along a creek. Only a scant amount of water remained on the road, but the creek was still bank-full. Abandoned railroad tracks lay along the bank of the stream. Evidence of disaster was everywhere. The floodwaters had covered housetops, and rain-soaked curtains drooped drearily from open windows that had been broken by the swift current. Chain-link fences had been torn out by the deadly torrent, the metal twisted together and dumped in mutilated heaps beside the creek bed.

As they drove slowly upstream, Chase said worriedly, “I wonder if I took the wrong road. Rick said there was a town up this hollow.”

“If so, the residents might have perished in the flood. Not many people could have survived this deluge,” Amelia said.

They reached a spot where the strong water had stripped off the surface of the road, and Chase braked abruptly. For several yards, only two or three feet of roadbed separated two yawning ditches filled with pieces of pavement and foul-smelling water. A sharp curve blocked their view of what lay before them.

“Looks like the end of the road. I’ll walk for a mile or so to see if I can find any survivors,” Chase said.

Amelia unlocked her seat belt and stepped out of the vehicle into an inch of water on the roadbed.

“You don’t have to go,” Chase protested.

“This is a joint venture,” she replied. “I’ll do my part.”

Shifting the Jeep into Reverse, Chase backed up cautiously until he found a place wide enough to turn the vehicle. Although it hadn’t started raining yet, the clouds looked ominous, and he wanted to be headed out of this hollow if there was another cloudburst. He pocketed the keys, adjusted a heavy pack filled with food and first-aid supplies over his back. He hurried to join Amelia, who’d already crossed the narrow pathway and waited for him.

In places, they walked through water, and Amelia was thankful for her heavy boots. After they’d journeyed about a mile, Chase suggested that they turn around, but Amelia pointed to a spiral of smoke ahead of them. She was already tired from the unfamiliar exertion, but her steps quickened. She was both eager and fearful to learn the condition of the town’s residents.

After rounding another bend in the road, they climbed a small hill and saw several buildings scattered haphazardly at the head of the hollow. Some houses had been washed off their foundations, outbuildings were now piles of shattered wood, tops of automobiles projected from the creek, a thick layer of black mud covered the ground, plastic bottles and other debris hung from tree branches. Chase pointed at a ramshackle mine shaft and tipple on the mountainside behind the houses.

“According to Rick Smith,” he said, “this used to be a coal town, but the mine was abandoned several years ago. The coal company let the people buy their houses at a reasonable cost.”

Amazingly, a debris-covered bridge still straddled the stream, but water lapped at the wooden floor. Chase tested the stability of the bridge by taking a few uncertain steps on the wet surface.

“Careful!” Amelia cautioned him, holding her breath.

“It’s safe enough,” Chase said, and he took Amelia’s hand and held it tightly as they crossed the wobbly structure.

They sank ankle-deep into the black mud that sucked at their feet as they walked up the town’s one street. Layers of mud and trash covered the ground. Cars were tangled in a net of mud and dead trees. Except for the swirling echoes of the still-swollen stream, a deadly silence greeted them. A few dwellings had collapsed under the force of the water, which had also forced doors and windows open on the remaining houses.

“Anybody home?” Chase called several times.

At first, the town seemed deserted, until they heard the faint sound of music. Momentarily, Amelia and Chase stared at one another in amazement, before they broke into a run, following the curve of the street. Disbelieving, they stopped in their tracks.

A two-story house had been torn in two by the energy of the water, and the lean-to rear section had toppled to the ground. The half-house seemed sturdy, smoke drifted upward from its chimney, and on the front porch, an elderly man sat in a rocking chair, eyes closed, strumming a banjo.

“Hello!” Chase said.

The man’s eyes popped open, and his chin dropped several inches.

“Where on earth did you come from?” he said. Laying aside his banjo, and favoring his presumably arthritic knees, he clambered off the porch. The squat man, who looked as if he were in his eighties, grabbed Chase’s hand.

“Young feller, I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life. You got any water? I ain’t had a drink for three days.”

Without waiting for Chase to remove the backpack, Amelia unzipped it, took out a bottle of water, uncapped it and handed it to the man. While the clear liquid gurgled down his throat, she unwrapped two granola bars and handed them to him. His hands were filthy, but he held the bars in the wrapper and ate them. The way he wolfed the food indicated that he probably hadn’t eaten for three days, either.

He leaned against the porch and motioned toward the mine shaft. “An old sedimentation pond broke open and spilled gallons of slurry into our houses and polluted our wells. I’ve been afraid to eat or drink anything.”

Amelia handed him some antibacterial hand wipes. While he cleaned his hands, she quickly peeled an orange and gave the sections to him.

He ate greedily, but between bites, he said, “‘Scuse my manners, but hunger and thirst was about to get to me.”

“What happened to all of your neighbors?” Chase asked.

He shook his head worriedly. “There’s only twenty-five folks living here now. Some of them were gone when the flood struck, so I suppose they’re staying with family. A few others took to the hills before the water surrounded their houses, and walked over the mountain to their kin. I watched the creek rise, and I stayed as long as I could. When it got to the edge of my yard, I grabbed my banjo and climbed the mountain. I stayed up there in an old lean-to until the water went down.”

“Why was the banjo more important to you than your other possessions?” Amelia asked, wondering about his choice.

“This was my daddy’s banjo,” he said, patting the instrument fondly. “I prize it more than anything else I have.”

“The Red Cross has a shelter set up not far from Williamson,” Chase said. “We have a Jeep parked down the road about a mile, and we can take you to the shelter.”

“No, thanks.”

“But, Mr….” Chase paused. “I guess we haven’t been introduced. I’m Chase Ramsey, and this is Amelia Stone. We’re working with the Red Cross to help flood victims.”

“My name’s Willie Honaker. Call me Willie.”

“But, Willie, you shouldn’t stay here,” Amelia said. “The road has washed away, and no vehicles can drive up the hollow to bring fuel or food for you.”

“I ain’t leavin’ my home. The forepart of the house is stable, and my fireplace is all right. The water didn’t get upstairs, and I’ve got a bed up there. I aim to watch over my things and protect my neighbors’ homes from thieves until they can come back. We ain’t got much left, but I’m staying here.”

Amelia slanted an apprehensive look toward Chase. It would be a long time before the road would be passable for any of these residents to come home, let alone any thieves.

“There’ll be government grants to help you rebuild, I’d imagine. In the meantime, you’d be more comfortable at the shelter,” she insisted.

Willie resumed his seat in the chair, and slowly rocked back and forth, shaking his head negatively. “Nope. I don’t want government help. I’ve been lookin’ after myself for a long time. If you’ve got any more water or candy bars, I’ll make do until some of my kin come to look about me.”

Not knowing how many other needy people they’d encounter before the day was over, Chase gave Willie only half of the provisions he carried.

Before they left, Chase explained to Willie about the hazardous road they’d encountered. “Is there an easier way to get back to Williamson?”

Willie’s clear black eyes widened in astonishment.

“Man, you surely didn’t take a road across the mountain!”

“Rick Smith said to take the first road to the left. That’s what I did.”

“You must have been on a log road, made by contractors who’ve timbered that mountain. How’d you do it?”

With an embarrassed laugh, Chase said, “It wasn’t easy.”

“Young feller, I’d say you’re a pretty good driver or you’d still be on top of the mountain. You just follow the road in the creek valley, and it’ll take you to the highway.”

Although he’d been in doubt about whether he should stay any longer in the disaster area, on the way back to the Jeep, Chase made up his mind. He received four weeks’ vacation each year, and he’d take part of it to help here. He would get in touch with the bank to make arrangements if he could find a place to use his cell phone.

Would Amelia be pleased that he was staying? As they plodded through the thick mud, he told Amelia the decision he’d made. She nodded without saying anything, and he couldn’t tell from her expression if she was annoyed, pleased or just didn’t care what he did. He compared the Amelia he’d known to the woman with him today.

Because Amelia’s mother had kept her in new clothes, and since she’d had an unlimited credit card, she’d set the fashion on campus. She’d bought anything that had caught her eye, and all clothes had looked good on her. Amelia hadn’t been a snob, but because of her affluence, she’d outclassed most of the other students. She’d been a beautiful girl, and he’d wanted her the first time he’d seen her.

The roadbed was narrow in places, and Amelia walked in front of him, allowing ample opportunity for Chase to consider the person she’d become—a tall, willowy woman with a resolute mouth, candid dark eyes and long, very straight, brown hair that, today, fell in scraggly tufts over her shoulders. In her college days, she wouldn’t have been caught dead looking as she did now. Soft rain had started, and they’d forgotten to bring their raincoats. Amelia’s heavy sweater was soaked. Her jeans were splashed with mud, and the boots that had been clean and shiny this morning were filthy. She limped from weariness, and Chase figured that Amelia had never spent such a miserable day. Yet she hadn’t complained once, and sympathy for Willie Honaker had brought tears to her eyes.

Chase knew that thinking of “what might have been” was futile, but momentarily he wondered what their lives would be like now if their marriage hadn’t failed and they’d continued to live together.

Amelia slipped in the mud, and he reached a hand to help her. She steadied herself without his assistance and moved on, unaware that he was watching her. Chase knew he couldn’t redeem the past, but what did he want from Amelia now? Was it too late for them to start over? Did he want another chance with Amelia?

While the idea stirred his emotions, he questioned if Amelia would welcome an opportunity to start over. He recalled her words when they’d left the lawyer’s office on the day their divorce had been finalized.

“When we married, Chase, I meant it when I said, ‘‘Til death do us part.’ But I couldn’t see any way out except for a divorce, and I’m glad it’s over. Please stay out of my life. I don’t want to see you again.”

He’d taken Amelia at her word and had made no effort to contact her. Had time caused a change in her feelings toward him, or did she still feel the same way?

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