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After a short shower that washed all the dirt of the night down the drain, we went to bed. I held Amelia close to my body as it felt like she was my anchor—the only reason why my razor-thin patience didn't snap, causing my dark mood to spiral.
"It does scare me a bit," she murmured before looking up at me. "But I guess I can be optimistic for you for a while until you can be again."
This made me want to hold Amelia even tighter.
38
GRAY
Sleep worked miracles on my overall condition, but it did nothing to change the situation, which immediately came into clear view as soon as I woke up.
The other side of the bed was empty, and a glance outside the window toward the river told me it was barely noon.
Just as I was sitting up to look for Amelia, I heard footsteps sprinting up the stairs. No sooner had the sound reached my ears than she came through the door. She was wearing a hard hat and one of those coverall work bibs.
Before I could even wonder about what all this meant, she sat beside me. "Sergeant Williams has rallied the townsfolk. Containers have arrived, there are a couple of small excavators, and everyone is pitching in to clear the debris. She had everything documented beforehand so everyone could get started right away. I did accept her apology this morning, after all…"
It took me a moment to process the information. Was Wolf Creek really coming together to help me? After the past few weeks, during which they had gone out of their way to push me away with their rumors and falsehoods?
"Is that true?"
"Why would I lie, Gray? Get dressed and come with us. Soraya is helping in the kitchen to feed everyone. And Manon and Declan are back as well—Wilder drove them back after the hospital discharged them. Just some minor burns and they both need to take it easy. Otherwise, they're fine." Amelia sounded relieved, which immediately made me feel somewhat calmer. "And Cookie has shown up again. Wilder took him with him so he wouldn't have to stay here alone."
I was at a loss for words. But Amelia had more to say.
"Most have offered to help with the rebuilding too. We have some folks with construction experience who are eager to do you this favor. Not just because your contribution to the town is so essential but also because… well, you know. They all realized they were wrong with their rumors. It seems they remembered that this here is a community." She seemed somewhat amused by this. "So, I expect you downstairs with the others in no more than fifteen minutes."
She reached for my hand and squeezed it tight.
"Everything is going to be okay, Gray. It's a setback and a pretty big one at that, but we'll handle it. And Sergeant Williams has assured me that George will get what's coming to him. Arson, assault… possibly even attempted murder since he acted knowing that people were sleeping in all those cabins."
Now that was news. Normally, the wheels of justice in this town grind slowly when it comes to legal matters. But apparently not for last night's events.
A silver lining?
Amelia left me alone, and less than ten minutes later, I was outside. Even that afternoon, I could still smell the remnants of the fire. It probably wouldn't clear until every last piece of debris was removed. Unlike that morning, there was no all-consuming silence now. Instead, I heard the loud hum of construction vehicles, and the wind carried the conversations of the volunteer workers.
Every step was a struggle as it meant I had to face the picture of destruction again. Ultimately, it was sheer determination and Amelia's words that compelled me to keep moving forward.
This behavior was unlike me, and I could feel it in my bones. But after last night, I was allowed a few days where my confidence wasn’t where it normally was.
I stopped in my tracks when I first grasped what the community's solidarity meant. There were not just ten motivated volunteers but dozens. I had never seen so many people on this mountain. It reminded me of the bustle at the weekly market—everyonewas here.
For a few minutes, I could only watch. Excavators tore down the remnants of the cabins and loaded rubble and other debris into the provided containers. Wheelbarrows were used to haul away smaller parts. Younger children and some teenagers supplied the volunteers with water and snacks.
It was as if thebed-and-breakfasthad suddenly become a community project. However, I wasn't about to complain. Instead, I felt a compelling urge to thank each person personally, over and over again.
That morning, I hadn't expected the sad view right outside my front door to change any time soon. Now I was faced with the reality that it would likely be cleaned up much faster than I had time to process everything.
Eventually, I walked over to the table where the donated tools were stacked, grabbed a shovel, and joined in the work myself.
Amelia was right.
All would be well.
39
AMELIA
