There were few secrets in Refuge, especially when someone was ill. “Greg is upbeat, as usual, trying to be positive, but frankly, he needs a miracle.”
“Someone somewhere has to be a donor match.”
“Finding that person is the problem.” She didn’t go into the sad statistics. She was a woman of science, but she and her family were also people of faith. “Sometimes it’s hard to trust that God will do whatever’s best, even if His idea of ‘best’ is not what we hoped.”
“I know, sweetie. I know. I feel as bad for Caleb as I do Greg. Maybe worse. Greg is the only family he has. We know where Greg is going if he loses this battle, but Caleb will be lost without his anchor.”
“He seems scared and worried, though he wouldn’t ever admit as much. Cowboy tough, all the way. But he’s trying hard to take care of his dad.”
“He was always a good boy under that nobody’s-gonna-hurt-me-again reserve. I liked him. And if my memory serves, you liked him, too. You were always tagging around after your brothers whenever they brought Caleb home.”
Kristen rolled her eyes upward. “Was I really that obvious?”
“Uh-huh. Starry-eyed teenage crushes, we all go through them.”
Caleb had probably thought she was a silly goose. But they were grown-ups now and teenage crushes had given way to more meaningful relationships. She wondered why Caleb wasn’t married.
“You know what’s sad?” Lifting the boot, she swiveled the bar stool toward the lit Christmas tree. “There wasn’t one sign of Christmas in that house.”
“I guess Greg’s not up to it.”
“Maybe they don’t decorate, being single guys and all. But that’s sad to me.”
“Some don’t. It bothers you because you’re a Christmas-cookie kind of girl with all the trimmings.” Evie dipped her tea bag up and down in the cup. “Which reminds me. Want to come over next week and bake pumpkin bread for the neighbors? It’ll be like old times, when you were in high school and we baked for your teachers.”
“And the fire department and police officers.” She set her tea on the speckled gray granite. “I loved doing that. Refuge has such a great community.”
Refuge was a great community, filled with caring people.
An idea popped into Kristen’s head. One she couldn’t wait to share with Caleb.
* * *
Caleb thought she was the cutest female buzz saw he’d ever seen. Being a cautious man, he kept the thought to himself. He grinned a little, though, when Kristen plopped onto a kitchen chair, pen and paper in hand, black boot sticking straight out, and declared her plan to find a kidney for Pops.
She’d already hooked Pops to R2-D2, forcing both men to watch, listen and repeat every step. Kristen was a good teacher, but an exacting one. He appreciated that even if it surprised him. Do it. Do it right. Pops’s life depended on it.
“Help me make a list.” She tapped the pen against her chin.
“A list of what? People who might donate?” Rip ambled in from Pops’s room and stood beside Caleb’s chair, quiet and polite. He appreciated that in a dog, a horse, too.
“Civic groups, churches and, yes, specific people if you can think of any.”
He couldn’t. “None that I haven’t already asked.”
“All right, then, let’s brainstorm groups to speak to.”
“Speak to? As in talk in front of people?” He dropped a hand to Rip’s head.
She snickered. “Scared?”
Terrified, but he wouldn’t admit it. “I’m not a good speaker. I barely talk to individuals. Cows and horses, yes. Groups of people, no.”
People stared and judged, and he was certain he’d make a fool of himself and ruin Pops’s chances. He didn’t have the education or the vocabulary to be a speaker.
“I think you’d be great,” she said, “but if it makes you feel better, I’ll handle most of the speaking. You come along to put a face to the need.”
He could do that. Fact was, he’d do anything. And the little perverse imp on his shoulder loved the idea of spending extra time with Kristen. The smart part of his brain knew better. “Whatever it takes.”
She gave him the kind of smile that made a man want to do anything she asked. “That’s the spirit. The more we raise awareness, the more opportunity we have of seeing the right donor step up.”
Caleb was skeptical, but he admired Kristen’s spunk, her determination, her sheer faith that they would succeed. Even if it all turned out to be a wasted effort, they’d know they tried.
They spent the next twenty minutes brainstorming places to speak and social media, all of which Pops would have to approve. Then, after a check of Pops’s machinery, Kristen started looking up numbers on her cell phone.
“Here,” he said, holding out a hand. “Give me half the list. I can look up numbers.”
“As long as you don’t have to talk to them?”
He gave her a scowl. “I can call. But they’ll respond better to you.”
“What makes you think that? I’m the one who’s been gone for a long time. They probably won’t remember me.”
Oh, they’d remember her, all right. Kristen Andrews of the auburn hair, sea green eyes and big, big heart was unforgettable. Whether or not anyone would line up to give away a kidney at her request? That was the part that worried him.
Caleb stared at the sea of faces gathered in the meeting room of the Refuge Library. They made him nervous. So much so that he’d twisted the brim of his hat into a knot. He was nervous for Kristen, nervous for Greg, nervous that no one would even care about one old rancher with dead kidneys and no family other than an adopted son whose blood type didn’t even match.
Members of a local service club listened with varying amounts of interest. From his place on the dais, Caleb could see their faces and the few who played on their cell phones while Kristen explained the life-and-death scenarios people like his dad lived with every day.
He wanted to get up and punch the cell phone users, demand they listen and care. Kristen was terrific. Articulate, warm, funny. And the PowerPoint presentation was an attention grabber filled with grim facts as well as the hope and long life that could be realized through a living kidney donation. He was learning from her, too.
When she introduced Caleb, he stood, awkward as a three-legged calf. Here goes nothing, he thought for the sixth time in two weeks. He was the face of the issue, like he’d been years ago on one of those news programs that beg people to adopt older kids. He remembered
