{"id":1108,"date":"2019-02-12T22:47:54","date_gmt":"2019-02-13T03:47:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/read.whitefire-publishing.com\/?p=1108"},"modified":"2020-07-28T17:48:29","modified_gmt":"2020-07-28T21:48:29","slug":"like-theres-no-tomorrow","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/like-theres-no-tomorrow\/","title":{"rendered":"Like There\u2019s No Tomorrow"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Like There\u2019s No Tomorrow<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

by\u00a0Camille Eide<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scottish widower Ian MacLean is plagued by a mischievous grannie, bitter regrets, and an ache for something he\u2019ll never have again. His only hope for freedom is to bring his grannie\u2019s sister home from America. But first, he\u2019ll have to convince her young companion, Emily Chapman, to let the woman go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emily devotes herself to foster youth and her beloved Aunt Grace. Caring for others quiets a secret fear she keeps close to her heart. But when Ian appears, wanting to whisk Grace off to Scotland, everything Emily holds dear is at risk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Like There\u2019s No Tomorrow is an amusing yet heart-tugging love story<\/a> about two kind, single caretakers, two quirky, old sisters bent on reuniting, and too many agendas. It\u2019s a tale of family<\/a>, fiery furnaces, faith, and the gift of each new da<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

\n\t\t\t\t\t

Chapter 1<\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t

Glasgow, Scotland<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ian MacLean had spent the last two years feeding chickens,\nhiding the kitchen knives from his mule-headed grannie, and questioning his\nsanity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But if his luck held out,\nall that was about to change.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Feeling lighter than he had\nin months, Ian crossed the street, climbed into the\nold farm truck, and looked back at the row of flats he\u2019d just left. Beyond the\nbuilding and to the west, the lights of Glasgow cast a golden glow against the\nnight sky.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ian slipped\nthe key into the ignition, let his hand drop, and studied the windows of his\nsister\u2019s flat. When had he last felt so free?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His talk with\nhis absentee brother-in-law had succeeded. Davy had not only come home, but he\nwas home to stay\u2014he\u2019d given Ian his word. Ian could still see the look on his\nsister\u2019s face when her husband walked in the door. Claire\u2019s stunned silence\nproved that she could actually hold her tongue when she fancied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ian started\nthe truck and smiled. All in a day\u2019s work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aye, he\u2019d only meant to\nhelp Claire\u2019s family, but in doing so, he\u2019d also lifted a huge weight from his own\nshoulders. Not that Claire or her kids were a burden. Ian loved his nieces and\nnephews as if they were his own, and as long as he drew breath, they\u2019d never go\nhungry. But more than food, those kids needed security and stability. They\nneeded their da.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And now, Davy was home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ian tapped the pedal to\nbring the truck\u2019s idle down to a low grumble. Only one obstacle to his freedom\nremained: Maggie MacLean. But if his luck held out and all went as planned, he\nwould soon be free of his daft grannie and her mind-numbing nonsense. Free to\nexplore a world of possibilities. Free to write that series of feature articles\nthat would take him to remarkable, far-away places.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But then, any dull place\nwould do\u2014as long as it took him away from Kirkhaven.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ian glanced at the\nenvelope tucked in the cracked visor above him. Mailing the latest letter to\nAunt Grace was all he had left to do. The\nsooner it arrived in Oregon, the sooner his great-aunt could move back home to\nScotland and take charge of her errant sister, Maggie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And the sooner Ian could\nget on with his life, shackle-free.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n

Juniper Ranch, Central\nOregon<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In spite of the never-ending drama and the\noccasional runaway, Emily Chapman couldn\u2019t have designed a more perfect job for\nherself. The kids living at the Juniper Ranch group home were so starved for\nlove that they weren\u2019t picky about who supplied it, and she had plenty to give.\nPlus, they were so desperate for normalcy and stability that they didn\u2019t have time\nto think about anyone else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which worked out great for Emily. The last thing\nshe needed was anyone worrying about her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The first of May appeared warm with its clear\nskies and dazzling sun, but in reality, even with the sun shining, the chill of\nOregon\u2019s high desert often kept the young teens inside when they weren\u2019t doing\nchores or critter duty. Today\u2019s sun had heated the sand and desert flora enough\nthat pungent aromas of sage and juniper filled the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She tapped on the parlor window and got Chaz and\nBrandi\u2019s attention. \u201cHey,\u201d she hollered through the glass. \u201cWho\u2019s up for a game\nof volleyball?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Chaz grimaced and poked his glasses higher on his\nnose. It would take something more complex than a ball to pull him away from\nthe computer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Brandi shot up from the couch. \u201cI\u2019m in,\u201d she\nshouted. \u201cAs long as I\u2019m captain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emily smiled. Yeah, an outdoor game was\ndefinitely in order.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She rounded up all seven girls and five boys and\nled them down to the makeshift volleyball court\u2014little more than a sand pit\nsurrounded by sagebrush\u2014and divided the kids into two teams. Eleven-year-old\nHector opened with a serve while Emily worked the sidelines.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A few minutes into the game, her phone vibrated\nin the pocket of her jeans. She pulled it out and stole a peek at the screen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jaye. Naturally. Who else would it be?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Since Emily still had a half hour left of her\nshift, she tucked her phone away and kept her eye on the volleyball. Her hiking\nboots kicked up dust and sand as she moved along the sideline, reminding her to\ntoss her old cross-trainers in the Jeep before her next shift.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Brandi lunged toward the net and nearly ate dust,\nbut got beneath the ball just in time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAwesome dig, Brandi! Way to go!\u201d Emily silently\nprayed that God would give Brandi a sense that she mattered and was loved, no\nmatter how troubled her life was. Maybe a little pride in a game well played\nwould add something positive to the older girl\u2019s attitude.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emily watched the game, counting the hits. As she\nclapped for a clean spike, her pocket hummed again. Getting two texts in a row\nwasn\u2019t good, especially when Aunt Grace was home alone. Emily pulled out her\ncell phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nope. Just another message from Jaye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She shook her head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Commandment Number One in the Jaye Benson Book\nof Love, Life, & Death<\/em>:\nwhen Jaye had a new boyfriend, no one would rest. Especially not the Best\nFriend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome on, guys. Don\u2019t forget to set it up first,\nthen hit.\u201d Once the ball was back in play, she viewed the first text.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just found out Wrangle has a friend! He\u2019s totally hot! Probably!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cProbably …?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The volleyball sailed out of bounds and\ndisappeared into the sagebrush surrounding the makeshift court. While one of\nthe boys retrieved the ball, Emily scrolled to the second text.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I told Wrangle 2 tell him u love line dancing & 4x4s. We\u2019ll\npick u up @8.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ball sailed toward her. Emily caught it,\nstuffed it in the crook of her elbow, and double-checked the screen with a\ngroan. \u201cPlease tell me you did not just set me up on a date,\u201d she muttered.\n\u201cEspecially with some guy you haven\u2019t even met.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The phone buzzed yet again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

& it\u2019s not a date. It\u2019s group fun night. Note the word FUN.\nAnd NOT A DATE.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fabulous. Jaye\u2019s idea of a \u201cgroup\u201d consisted of\nJaye and Wrangle, plus Emily and some \u201ctotally hot\u201d stray cowboy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Apparently Jaye had forgotten her promise to lay\noff the scheming after the last blind date. She didn\u2019t understand. But then, it\nwasn\u2019t her fault. Emily hadn\u2019t tried very hard to make her friend understand\nwhy she had no intentions of marrying and, therefore, wasn\u2019t interested in\ndating. After a lot of prayer and thought, Emily had decided to keep her\nreasons to herself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At least for now. It was better for everyone that\nway. Easier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It took a few seconds to register that the teens\nwere hollering for the ball.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry, guys.\u201d She lobbed the ball back into play,\nthen powered off the phone and stuffed it into her pocket. Taking a deep\nbreath, Emily refocused her attention on the game. She didn\u2019t have time to\nbattle demons that might not even exist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Right now, these kids needed her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Twenty minutes later, the afternoon heat had\nwarmed her skin, stirring up an occasional whiff of her favorite honeysuckle\nscent as she paced the sidelines. The heat had also turned her long, brown\ncurls into a dark, clingy mop. She pulled her hair back and secured it into a\nponytail.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEmily!\u201d The call of her name drifted across the\ncompound from the main house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDown here,\u201d she yelled back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But whatever the answer, it was lost as a red\npickup barreled up the driveway, spitting gravel and stirring up clouds of dust\nin its wake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jaye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The red Ford Ranger skidded to a halt at the edge\nof the staff parking lot. As Jaye climbed out, truck engine still running,\nsomeone near the house called Emily\u2019s name again\u2014her  boss, who was hurrying down the path. Sue\nQuinn looked uptight, even more than usual.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEmily!\u201d Jaye huffed as she climbed the sandy\ntrail to the volleyball court. \u201cYour phone is off!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWeird, huh.\u201d Emily grinned. \u201cMaybe that\u2019s\nbecause some days I actually work<\/em>\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEm!\u201d Jaye gripped Emily\u2019s biceps. \u201cYou gotta go\nhome. Your Aunt Grace\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d An icy current raced through Emily,\nnumbing every nerve. \u201cWhat happened? What\u2019s wrong with Aunt Grace?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour house is on fire!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kids came running, some of the girls squealing,\nothers yelling at them to be quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs she hurt?\u201d Emily breathed. \u201cWhat happened?\nWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jaye shook her head, heaving as she caught her\nbreath. \u201cI don\u2019t know. Your phone was off so I came straight\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEmily!\u201d Her boss\u2019s clipped voice cut through the\ncommotion as she jogged up. \u201cThere\u2019s been some kind of emergency. Fire and\nparamedic crews were sent to your house. I brought your keys.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Molten fear ignited in her gut. Emily caught her\ncar keys with a shaking hand, turned, and ran for her Jeep, sprinting down the\ndirt path as fast as her numb legs and stiff boots would allow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Is Aunt Grace hurt? Is she in danger? Oh, God,\nlet her be okay.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The prayer sent another wave of numbness through\nher limbs, but she sucked in a deep breath and forced her legs to move faster.\nAll she could think of was her great-aunt trapped in the little blue house,\nperhaps now ablaze with crackling flames. As she reached the edge of the gravel\nlot, she could almost feel the flames licking at her heels. The crunch of her\nfootfalls quickened across the gravel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n

Let her be okay … Please, God, let her be okay …<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Flashing red lights blinked like buoys in a sea of sand and\nsagebrush from half a mile away. When Emily turned onto Salt Flats Road, she\nspotted the sheriff\u2019s car in front of the house along with the emergency rigs.\nBut as she neared the house, the flashing stopped. Uniformed EMTs worked at the\nback of their ambulance, locking compartment doors. A couple of firefighters\nreattached something to the fire truck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No crackling flames. No smoke. No sheet-covered stretcher.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Still, Emily couldn\u2019t breathe. As she braked, the Jeep ground\nto a stop in the gravel, sending up a cloud of dust. She dashed up the steps\nand across the covered porch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A thick, noxious blend of odors met her at the doorway,\nsetting her heart pounding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAunt Grace?\u201d Inside, Emily took a quick glance around the\nfront room and found her great-aunt snuggled up in her favorite corner chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A uniformed fireman stood nearby while the EMT on the\nloveseat beside Aunt Grace packed up a medic kit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grace\u2019s soft, wrinkly face drew wide with a smile as Emily\ncame near. \u201cOoh, here ye are dearie. Such a kind lass. Did ye bring the mail?\nWe\u2019ll be getting a letter from Maggie and Ian today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That was good for a partial sigh of relief. \u201cAre you okay?\u201d\nEmily touched her aunt\u2019s thin shoulder, then bent over the little white-haired\nwoman and kissed the top of her head. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on? Have you been baking?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAye. Lemon cookies for tea to go with Maggie\u2019s letter.\u201d The\nold woman nodded, leaned closer, and whispered, \u201cBut I\u2019m afraid I misplaced my\nspatula.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh, Lord, not again<\/em>. Emily glanced at the fireman, a guy from their church.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He greeted her with a nod and glanced down at Aunt Grace, his\ndrawn brow deepening his look of uncertainty. \u201cYou … might want to start by\nlooking in the kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emily let out a pent-up breath and forced a smile. \u201cGood\nidea, Brad. Thanks.\u201d She smiled into the old woman\u2019s clouded eyes, once the\ncolor of autumn sky. \u201cI\u2019ll be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the kitchen, another fireman with a clipboard tossed her a\nnod and kept writing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She recognized him too, one of Jaye\u2019s recent crushes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pungent smell of burnt cookie and melted plastic stung\nEmily\u2019s nose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the counter, a few dozen lemon shortbread cookies stood\nstacked in tidy rows. The oven door hung open. Inside, a batch of charred\ncookies rested peacefully, including what was left of the missing spatula,\npartially melted at a weird angle in the middle like some kind of eclectic pop\nart. Though every window was open, a gray haze hovered near the ceiling. Aunt Grace\u2019s\nfavorite Nottingham lace curtains fanned the acrid odor with the help of a\ngentle breeze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Emily rubbed her tingling nose. After a last glance around\nthe kitchen, she returned to the front room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDid ye find it?\u201d Grace asked, still whispering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, I did.\u201d Emily couldn\u2019t help a faint smile at her\ngreat-aunt\u2019s concern that someone might discover she\u2019d lost a kitchen utensil.\nNever mind nearly burning down a house. \u201cIt\u2019s right where you left it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh, good. Thank ye, dearie.\u201d Her soft Scottish brogue and\ncheerful smile returned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No harm done.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This time.<\/p>\n\n\n