Christmas at Promise Lodge by Charlotte Hubbard Page A

his fall—Mattie hurried toward Amos’s house. She heard voices behind her and saw that Frances, Gloria, and Mary Kate were headed up the road toward their home.
    â€œWhat on earth possessed your dat to catch Amos?” Frances asked in a flustered voice. “He’s going to pitch a fit about going to the hospital, but we’ve got to get him checked over. If he broke some blood vessels, or knocked his neck out of kilter—well, Minerva told me there could be all manner of injuries we won’t know about without getting him checked over.”
    Lord, this is so scary , Mattie prayed as she hurried up the steps to Amos’s place. Help me find what Amos will need. Help me not to panic so I can make the right decisions .
    Because Mattie had helped unpack a lot of boxes when Amos had moved his belongings from the storage shed into his new home, she had an idea where his clothes and toiletries were. She moved as quickly as she could, yet she had the sensation of slogging through suspended time and deep mud, feeling woefully slow. By the time she tucked some pajamas and a change of clothing into a duffle, she heard the distant wail of a siren.
    Mattie felt frightened half out of her mind. What if Amos didn’t regain consciousness—or if he did, what if he’d suffered the sort of head and neck injuries Frances had mentioned? How could it be that her Amos, so fit and agile, was lying unresponsive on the ground? She hadn’t seen a flicker of his eyelids or the slightest motion in his arms and legs.
    What if he’s paralyzed? Mattie fretted as she hurried out the door with Amos’s duffle. What if he’ll never be able to work again—and all because of a freak accident while fetching a Frisbee?
    Stop it! another voice in her head warned. Thinking the worst will make you crazy. Truman was right to call the ambulance so both men will get the best care.
    A police car sped under the arched entry sign to Promise Lodge, followed by a fire truck and an ambulance, which made Queenie bark frantically as she ran around the yard. Mattie stopped in her tracks, her pulse pounding. So many blaring sirens and flashing lights—so many emergency vehicles—surely must mean the responders had figured on the worst-case scenario. Her hand fluttered to her hammering heart as she watched uniformed officers, firefighters, and paramedics rushing toward the cluster of men who stood near the shed. Mattie was grateful that the sirens had stopped wailing—and that Noah had silenced his dog—so she could think again.
    â€œMy word, it’s like the lodge and all our houses were burning to the ground,” Frances murmured, clutching a small suitcase as she came to stand beside Mattie. Gloria and Mary Kate seemed so intently focused on the throbbing, flashing lights that they couldn’t speak.
    Mattie gripped the handle of the duffle in both hands, trying to hold on to rational thought. “I’m so grateful that Truman’s talking to the emergency crew and knows what to do,” she said, shaking her head. “As fast as they’re bringing out those stretchers, we should get over there with these clothes.”
    Mustering her courage, Mattie walked quickly toward the scene of the accident. How could those men who were strapping Amos and Floyd to stretchers work so calmly and efficiently? Didn’t they realize that the leadership of this church district—the lives of two vitally important men—were at stake?
    When Truman noticed Mattie and Frances, he loped over to meet them. “You ladies need to talk to the ambulance guys. They’ve got some questions I can’t answer.”
    Mattie shared a startled gaze with Frances. She hurried toward the team of medical workers who surrounded Amos while Frances went to tend her husband. “What do you need to know?” she asked in a tremulous voice. “Amos’s kids are married and living out of