Jenneca couldn’t believe the support! Everyone had come to help. They all gathered in the front area of the bakery. Alonzo pulled chairs from the back and soon everyone was sitting, talking loudly and eating bread. They had spread word to all the neighbors that whatever they could bake with the supplies they had they’d share with all. So people dropped in and out, eating bread, joking with her friends. Jenneca had never felt such a strong sense of family in her community.

The deputy Mayor came to talk with Tripp and their frowns and worry lines indicated not all was well with Grevena.

Jorge sat at her side, full of kind words and support. He had stepped back from any physical advances and had just offered verbal support and help whenever he saw the chance.

Tripp had refused to look at her once Jorge arrived and she could tell by his ready stance near the door he was waiting for a reason to leave, on to other projects.

She stood and approached him. “Where are we off to next?”

He widened his eyes. “I didn’t think you would want to continue.”

“Of course I do.” She cared about the village almost as much as her own bakery.

“But you have company…”

“They can be put to work too. I say we get everyone working.”

A hint of disappointment flickered for a moment and then a look of hopeful realization. “Great idea. We can start on this street. Supplies are coming, hammers, crow bars, wood. A dumpster will be dropped at the end of the street.”

She nodded. “Ok, let’s get them going, and then where do we need to go next?”

“Do you really want to come with me?” His eyes now held hope and a hint of something else.

“I would. If you’ll have me.”

The deputy mayor stepped back inside at that moment. Tripp whispered something to him and he nodded, relief filling his face. He cleared his throat. ”May I have your attention? I have just heard that you are willing to help us clean up, stabilize and protect these homes and shops, at least until we get a construction crew in here?”

Jorge stood. “We are. Put us to work.” He made his way over to Jenneca’s side. “Many of us have training to get back to. J. C. as well, but we have at least a couple days to do whatever you need.” He put his hand on Jenneca’s elbow and she felt so much gratitude for his willingness to help, and for the reminder that she had somewhere to be also. She glanced at her brother. He was watching her, his gaze flicked from Jorge to Tripp and back to her with an amused sparkle in his face. But he nodded and mouthed. “You should go.”

Did he mean she should go right now with Tripp, or did he mean go train for the ski team? She would have to ask him later.

The deputy mayor split them into groups and Tripp and Jenneca were put together. Jorge was placed in charge of a team to clear the street. He winked at her and she leaned in to give him a hug of gratitude. “Thank you.” She turned to the whole room. “Thank you all for coming. This means more to me than anything.” Her voice caught. “To think what you are giving up.”

Tripp stepped up beside her. “We thank you on behalf of Torren. When disaster strikes, people always rise to help, and we see so much good right here in this room.”

They split and began to work.

Tripp led her to the SUV. “We have someplace else to go.”

“We do?”

He nodded.

Her curiosity grew.

They drove to the far side of town, towards the villagers who had homes sitting up against the mountain that led up to the palace.

A mud slide had come down from the top and had covered much of the land behind the homes. Their school sat off to the right of these homes and a group was gathered, with shovels and wheelbarrows, digging through the mud that filled their playground.

A man greeted them, the principal, thanking Tripp profusely, even going so far as to bow. Tripp chuckled. “Not necessary. We care for Grevena like it is our own. Now, do you have a pair of shovels?”

The man widened his eyes and was about to shake his head, but Jenneca rested a hand on his arm. “Please, we’d love to help.”

He hesitated, still uncertain, and then nodded. “Thank you.”

They followed him and began digging into the mud and debris that had slid in great piles down into the school yard. It covered a small shed near the back of the property and all of the playground equipment. The group had started on the equipment, hoping, Jenneca assumed, to be ready for school as soon as possible.

Jenneca dug in with her shovel. They were lifting the mud into wheelbarrows and then hauling it to a mud pile at the back of the property. At first it seemed easy enough, the mud was loose, wet, and heavy, but not hard to scoop up. But after about thirty minutes, she felt like her arms would fall off with the searing pain that shot through her muscles with each lift of a new scoop.

Tripp wiped his forehead with a towel in his back pocket. “Let’s take a break.”

Someone passed out waters, which Jenneca gratefully swallowed to wet her dry throat. “It’s looking better.”

Tripp followed her gaze. Much of the playground area had been cleared, and people had begun wiping down the equipment. “True. We are doing good work here.”

A woman ran up to them, frantic. “I can’t find my Josie.”

Jenneca stood with Tripp right beside her. The woman clung to Tripp’s arm. “She’s missing! Since last night. We thought she was at her grandma’s, but she left before the storm, right before the rain hit.”

Tripp rested a hand on the woman’s. “What has been done?”

Her crazed eyes widened, “Nothing. I am just back from my mother’s now.”

He nodded. “We must form a search party. Tell us the path from your mother’s to your home.”

Jenneca loved his take-charge responsibility, his caring, and the immediate switch in his attention. It was as if all his life now shifted to care about this one woman and her child.

Jenneca thought they needed more information. “How old is she?”

“Ten. She’s a capable girl. She would come from that direction, down this street here, not far.”

Jenneca looked for all places the girl may have taken shelter. “We should start with the neighbors.”

The group had gathered and began knocking doors up and down the street. Jenneca suggested they search a chicken coop in one yard and a pool house in another. “She could have taken shelter anywhere if she was outside when the storm hit.” She thought some more. “Are the school doors locked?”

The principal nodded. “Always.” He frowned as he looked over the area around them.

The group returned. No one had seen the girl. The mother became more frantic.

Jenneca wished to comfort her. But she became worried herself. This mud slide was bad news if a person had been caught in it. Parts of the areas covered in mud were quite deep. She dreaded the thought that somehow a young child had been consumed by the mud.

Tripp caught her eye, the dread in his face telling her he had the same worries. They moved together out toward the mud, Jenneca’s eyes scanned the dirt for any colors, anything that might look like a body. A sick feeling tightened in her chest as she moved farther back on the outskirts of the piles of mud.

A noise caught their attention, a banging, persistent but low, and a throaty hoarse voice. The shed. Covered in mud, almost to the top. The noise came from the shed.

“Come quickly!” Tripp shouted.

“The shed. Bring shovels.” Jenneca pointed and the group came running, every one of them wielding a shovel. The mother’s face filled with such a wild hope that Jenneca had to look away lest she burst into tears.

She ran to the edge of the mud. “Josie! You in there?” She shouted. “Josie!”

The group stilled, listening.

No answer.

“We heard something.” Tripp started digging madly, furiously, tossing mud away like it was mulch instead of the thick heavy slops that fell off his shovel. Everyone joined him, working on a path to the door of the shed.

“Josie! Josie honey are you in there?” the mother continued. But no one stopped digging.

At length, they carved away an area large enough for the door to slide open. They pulled at it, yanking it until it opened enough for a person to get through.

The woman burst in first, her shouts from inside made everyone’s faces pinch up. “Josie! Josie my baby, answer me.”

Tripp yanked the door all the way open, and light flooded into the small shed. Lawnmowers and rakes filled the small space, and the strong smells of gasoline and old grass tickled Jenneca’s nose. She squinted into the dark corner where Josie’s mom leaned over a small figure. The girl whimpered, and everyone breathed out a sigh of relief. Tripp tapped away at his phone. “Ambulance is coming.”

They moved away from the door and Jenneca scooted as close to Tripp as she could get. She had never been so scared for another person. Tripp laced his fingers through hers and squeezed her palm. She responded and hoped to never let go.

The ambulance arrived and took the little girl and her mother away. The technicians thought she would be fine once she was given an IV and some nourishment, but they would run tests to be sure.

Tripp and Jenneca shared such a look of relief that Jenneca warmed toward him even more. Perhaps they could make something of their friendship, perhaps he did respect her as something other than a groupie. Here they were doing some of the most meaningful work she had ever done.

He pulled her close and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so glad you are here with me for this.”

She snuggled into his chest. “Me too.” Her heart fluttered with that tantalizing idea of maybe.