Chapter 13: An Unexpected Visit
In the autumn of his third year in Coal Fork, a severe flash flood roared down the narrow mountain creek, washing away the timber bridge connecting the clinic to the regional highway.
Stephen spent thirty-six straight hours wading through waist-deep mud, evacuating fifteen elderly patients from flooded valley cabins to the dry shelter of the clinic’s waiting room.
At dawn on the second day, covered in red mountain mud, his forearms scraped and his eyes stinging with exhaustion, Stephen stood on the clinic porch handing out bowls of hot bean soup to shivering families.
A dark green station wagon with New York plates carefully navigated the washed-out gravel road, coming to a stop near the clinic steps.
The driver’s door opened.
Callie stepped out into the misty mountain air.
She wore a heavy canvas field coat, work boots, and a knitted wool scarf. She carried two large plastic crates marked: *EMERGENCY ANTIBIOTICS & WATER PURIFICATION UNITS.*
Stephen froze, holding an aluminum ladle, his breath catching in his chest.
Callie walked up the wooden steps, set the crates down on the dry porch, and wiped a speck of rain from her forehead.
She looked at Stephen—at his muddy boots, his frayed flannel shirt, and the deep, honest peace shining in his eyes.
""Hello, Stephen,"" Callie said softly.
May you like
""Hello, Callie,"" Stephen whispered, his hands trembling slightly against the soup pot.
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