Finding Her Home

“You looked wary for a minute there.”

Tori gazed up at the vertical stone formation. “Just overwhelmed by old memories.”

“You sure that’s all?”

Her smile faded to a guilt-ridden grin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been here. I was highly tempted to head back to my grandparents’ house before anyone saw me.”

Tori’s sudden insecurity intrigued Steve. If she didn’t want to see everyone, why had she agreed to come? He wanted more than anything to believe her reason included him, but he wouldn’t take that for granted, either. “Before you change your mind, why not say hello?” Steve touched his hand to the small of her back, encouraging her to join the festivities.

CAROL STEWARD

wrote daily to a pen pal for ten years, yet writing as a career didn’t occur to her for another two decades. “My first key chain said ‘Bloom Where You’re Planted.’ I’ve tried to follow that advice ever since.”

Carol, her husband and their three children have planted their roots in Greeley. Together, their family enjoys sports, camping and discovering Colorado’s beauty. Carol has operated her own cake-decorating business and spent fifteen years providing full-time child care to more than one hundred children before moving on to the other end of the education field. She is now an admissions advisor at a state university.

As always, Carol loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her at P.O. Box 200269, Evans, CO80620. She would also love for you to visit her Web page at www.carolsteward.com.

Finding her Home

Carol Steward

The LORD said to me, “Do not say,

‘I am only a boy’ for you shall go to all

to whom I send you, and you shall speak

whatever I command you.”

—Jeremiah 1:7

Dedicated to all teachers and educators,

but mostly to my late grandmother, Mildred Call,

my sisters, Cindy and Cynde Bohannan,

my late brother-in-law, Dan Correll, and the

Steward family of educators, Mildred, Jack, Marty,

Dave, Doug, Karen, Charles and Deb Haverfield.

Thank you for your dedication!

Dear Reader,

This generation is supposed to learn more at a younger age, and with that comes the expectation that teachers and educators wear more hats than ever before. They’re often expected to fill the shoes of social worker, friend, advocate, mediator, parent liaison, police, counselor, coach and last, but most importantly, teacher. And when administrators move from the classroom into leadership, the expectations double.

Twenty-six years ago I married into a family of educators. I first met my future father-in-law as a student anxiously sitting in the junior high principal’s office. Throughout the years he grew to appreciate the many expectations of his job. Whether it was to discipline an ornery student, intervene with disagreements between student and teacher, or rush to the school in the middle of the night because fire alarms had gone off, the job never ends.

Now my husband is a principal, and the inspiration for Finding Her Home. I’m continually reminded God is present in all schools, with administrators, teachers, staff or students, giving His children courage and patience to face what each day brings. And with quiet faith can come countless opportunities to make an impact on those in need.

Please pray for all of our schools and our educators, that all will be willing to speak up when God commands.

I love to hear from my readers. Please feel free to contact me at P.O. Box 200269, Evans, CO 80620 or at [e-mail]. Don’t forget to visit my Web site at www.carolsteward.com.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One

“It’s four-thirty in the morning. Who would be calling at this time of day?” Tori Sandoval picked up the phone, startled to hear her grandfather’s voice. “¿Abuelo? Calm down. What’s wrong?”

“Victoria, Abuela collapsed. The doctor at the clinic is having her flown to Pikes Peak Hospital. Can you meet her there?”

“Of course. What happened? How is she?” Tori choked back tears, allowing his announcement to sink in.

Tori heard Grandfather sob. “She fell…” he said, pausing to blow his nose. He rambled on, telling every detail. “I had to call the paramedics. I couldn’t do anything for her.”

“That’s their job. You shouldn’t be lifting her. Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’ll drive up after sunrise.”

Tori sat up in bed, the thought of her eighty-two-year-old grandfather making the 150-mile drive alone completed the wake-up process instantly. “No! I’ll come get you.”

“Abuela needs you. I’ll take it slow and do just fine. The nurse says my Maria will be in the hospital a while. You get to the hospital now, angel. Don’t worry about me.”

“¡Abuelo!”

Silence.

Thirty minutes later Tori Sandoval pressed the brakes of her four-wheel drive as she entered the already-busy hospital parking lot.

She parked the vehicle then punched in the number on her cell phone. “Sheriff Martinez, this is Victoria Sandoval….”

“Victoria, I’m sorry about your grandmother. I’m trying to find someone to bring Jose to Colorado Springs. He shouldn’t be driving in town, let alone on the highway.”

Relief washed over her. “Yes, I know. That’s what I’m calling about. I could come get him if you could stop him….”

“Don’t worry about coming here. I’ll make sure Jose gets a ride.” They spoke a few minutes longer and she gave Sheriff Martinez her cell phone number in case he needed to reach her.

“You holler if you need anything. We’ll keep a close watch on the house.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” Tori disconnected the call and stuffed the phone into her briefcase. “Abuela and Abuelo need to realize it’s time for them to move here so I can help out more,” she said aloud to herself. “I can’t move to Segundo now, I’m so close to finishing my thesis, and school’s just starting….”

Tori rushed across the parking lot and through the automatic doors to the emergency room. She stepped up to the counter. “Excuse me, my grandmother was being transported here from Segundo Emergency Clinic. Is Maria Sandoval here yet?”

“Let me go check.”

The nurse returned a few minutes later, shaking her head. “Her flight was delayed. If you’ll have a seat in the waiting room, we’ll call you when she arrives.”

“Any idea how she is?”

The middle-aged woman smiled. “She’s stable. We’ll send her directly to the neurology center.”

“Thank you.” Tori nodded numbly and turned to find a seat. After assessing the lack of available space, she decided to wait outside. Maybe the fresh air would help to clear her mind. She walked back to her vehicle before realizing she’d left her bagel on the table next to the door at her condo. “So much for breakfast.”

She had known this time would come, when her grandparents would need more care than was available in Coal Valley. Tori closed her eyes, questions racing through her head a dozen at a time. She glanced at her watch again. Time stood still.

Stable. What did that mean exactly? Had her grandfather reached the rest of the family? Now what? Mom and Dad can’t come home for months. Aunt Juanita is still recovering from chemo treatments. I can’t take care of them in Segundo.

Tori saw the cross on the hospital sign and cringed. She hadn’t been a regular church attendee in years, but her grandparents didn’t miss a week. Surely God wouldn’t turn a deaf ear. Lord, be with Abuela and give her strength, and help the sheriff find someone to bring Abuelo here. Pacing the sidewalk to ward off the early morning chill, she twisted her watch around her wrist and noted that less than five minutes had passed.

Opening her planner, Tori checked her schedule. Orientation with the new teachers. School improvement plan with building administrators—skip. Attendance forms—format. Tori rubbed her temple, making new notes for the day.

Half an hour passed before she heard the stutter of a helicopter’s approach. A bright pink glow painted the horizon and spilled across the sky as the copter landed on the hospital roof. Tori returned to the waiting room in time to hear her name called. She was then directed to an examining room where she introduced herself to the medics. Then she turned to her grandmother. “Abuela, it’s Tori.” Her grandmother didn’t respond. The left side of her mouth drooped. Her skin looked gray despite the oxygen tube under her nose.

“Is she okay?” Tori whispered to the medics.

“She’s stable. She became agitated when we moved her into the copter. We delayed the flight until she calmed down again. She was worried about your grandfather driving here.”

Tori smiled. “That’s been taken care of. He has a ride.”

“Good. It’s not easy separating loved ones at times like this.” The paramedics rolled the gurney into the service elevator and pushed it to one side. “Come on. We’ll save you the trouble of finding us again.” Tori patted Abuela’s hand, alarmed that it didn’t move. Tori felt the tears sting her eyes. She followed in silence while they settled Abuela into a room.

The nurse introduced herself and offered to wait until Tori’s grandfather arrived to complete the check-in. Tori answered what questions she could, sure Abuelo would be worried and tired when he got to town. He’d already gone through the “check in and wait” routine at the Segundo clinic.

Staff came in and left the room, but Abuela didn’t stir. “Is it normal for her to sleep so much?” Tori asked the nurse.

“Very. The neurologist will run tests soon.” She adjusted a small clamp on Abuela’s finger and waited for the new reading. “Her oxygen is improving.”

Tori tried to think of questions to ask, but only one mattered. “Will Abuela be okay?”

The nurse finished recording the numbers flashing on the monitors then motioned for Tori to follow her out to the hallway. In a hushed tone, the nurse apologized that she couldn’t give a definite answer. “The tests will give us a better idea of the extent of the damage she’s suffered. I know this isn’t the answer you want, but I’m afraid that only time will tell. Maria appears to be a strong, active woman. That helps.”

Three hours later Tori finally gave in to the nurse’s urging and went to the cafeteria for some breakfast. She balanced a fruit yogurt cup and a frothy-topped caramel latte, struggling to keep her purse on her shoulder. She turned in to her grandmother’s room and ran into a solid male body, bathing him in caramel, cream and mixed berries.

“Whoa. That gives an all-new meaning to ‘freshly brewed coffee.’”

Tori looked at the man and dropped the cup. “Ah, ah,” Tori gasped, stumbling on the slick floor as she stepped back. “Oh, my, I’m so sorry, Doctor. I didn’t see you.”

The man with salt-and-pepper hair, a deep tan and whiskey-brown eyes caught her by the arm and steadied her. “Careful.”

She studied the mess trickling down his faded denim shirt and jeans. “I am so sorry. Did it burn you?”

“It’s…warm.” His eyes drifted to her pink polo shirt. “But I don’t think there are any serious burns. How about you?”

She hadn’t even realized her splatter was a mirror image of his. Looking up, she suddenly felt very…warm, as well. “I’ll be fine. The nurse insisted I get something to eat, that you wouldn’t be back again until Grandfather arrived.”

A smile teased his lips. “I think there’s some confusion….”

“Tori,” her grandfather said a little too loudly, “this is Steven Remington from Stonewall Ranch. But I guess you already know that since you arranged for him to bring me here.”

“¡Abuelo!” She glanced at the man she’d assumed was a doctor, then stepped over the mess, allowing Steven Remington’s hand to steady her as she walked around the bed to hug her grandfather. “When did you get here?”

“Just a bit ago, angel.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “I’ll take a rain check for a proper hug after you’ve cleaned up. Steven isn’t a doctor. He teaches math at Coal Valley High and helps his uncle at the ranch. It was right fine of him to bring me here so mi esposa has a few of her own things.” Tears filled Abuelo’s eyes. His voice softened as he spoke to his wife in their native language.

Tori looked from her grandfather to the man she was supposed to know, but didn’t. She stepped back around the bed and stared at Mr. Remington, puzzled. “I’m sorry. I thought you were another doctor. Have we met before?”

“I don’t think we’ve had that pleasure. Sheriff Martinez knew I was headed to the Springs today to pick up supplies, and asked me to give your grandfather a ride.” He turned slightly and whispered to her. “I think Jose’s pride is a little scorched this morning, not being trusted to drive himself here.”

Tori nodded, understanding Grandpa’s prickly mood. “I can imagine.” She picked a fresh strawberry from her shirt and dropped it into the trash, trying to hide the tears that she’d just managed to dry before she’d entered the room. “Thank you so much for your kindness—” she hesitated “—Steven.” The name fit him perfectly. Suave and sophisticated. Rugged, yet classy. “As I’m sure you guessed, I’m Tori Sandoval, Jose and Maria’s clumsy granddaughter.”

Steven knelt down to add more fruit to the trash can, and rose with a sympathetic smile. “I doubt that. Your mind was on more important matters, is all.” He turned to the sink and pulled a handful of paper towels from the rack, handing several to Tori. “I’ll see if the nurse has a mop for the floor. Be careful.”

Tori cleaned herself as much as she could, only managing to mash the berries further into the fabric. Before Steven returned, Tori picked up the chunks of fruit and globs of yogurt from the floor.

Grandmother woke and tried to talk, but gibberish was all that came out. Grandpa’s eyes watered. He took her hand in his as she struggled to get the words right. She shook her head and started over, the words garbled.

“Don’t try to talk now, honey. Just rest. I’m not going anywhere. Steven Remington brought me, so I don’t even have our own car here.” Grandpa leaned over, tenderly kissed his wife’s frail lips and she struggled to smile.

Abuela’s body relaxed and her gaze shifted to Steven as he walked back into the room.

“Housekeeping will be in shortly with a mop,” Steven said quietly as he stepped closer to Tori. “The nurse said the doctor will be right in, as well.”

“Zlevem,” Abuela said. She frowned. “Ztevem…gwashias.” The frown turned to fear. She pounded the bed with her good hand.

Tori started to interpret but stopped when Steven took Maria’s hand. “You’re welcome, Mrs. Sandoval. I’m happy to help.”

Grandpa spoke, again, so loud that the entire wing of the hospital could probably hear him. “Steven is Bill’s nephew. Remember, the one who came from out East to raise his niños?”

Steve almost blushed.

Abuela nodded, then looked at Tori and tried to lift her eyebrows. “Towee.”

Tori stepped to the bedside as Steven moved, making room for her next to him, as Grandmother wouldn’t let go of his hand.

A rap on the door caught everyone’s attention. An older man wearing a white lab coat and stethoscope entered, followed by Grandmother’s nurse.

“Good morning. I’m the neurologist—Dr. Kimball—and you may have met her nurse already.” He turned to Tori and Steven and smiled. “Leila, it looks like we have another case of hospital-food-itis. Would you get a set of scrubs for these two to change into so they’ll be a little more comfortable.” Tori felt ridiculous for mistaking Steven for a doctor once she noticed Dr. Kimball’s white coat and stethoscope.

The nurse left the room, and the housekeeper came in with the mop and bucket, cleaning while the doctor continued to fill the family in on Abuela’s condition, explaining in tedious detail what tests she would be having and why. “Right now, Maria, you seem to be doing very well. The tests will confirm the preliminary diagnosis and guide us in the best path to take in your rehabilitation.”

Nurse Leila returned with a pair of scrubs for both Tori and Steven. Steven tried to give them back, explaining that he needed to get to his errands.

“I’d really like all of you to be here for the test results. We should be done in an hour or two. While the aides take Mrs. Sandoval down for the tests, Leila will show Mr. Sandoval to the waiting room. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“Dr. Kimball, I live a few miles away. Could we go clean up and get a bite to eat—Steven won’t need to be here for the results.”

“You go,” Grandpa interrupted, “but I’m not leaving Maria. She may need me.” He dropped into the chair next to the bed, and no amount of reasoning could change his mind. Even Maria’s feeble attempts to plead with her husband failed.

“Sure, you should have time to run home and clean up, and we’ll be sure to keep in touch with your grandfather.” The doctor left the room, followed by the nurse.

“Victoria Isabelle!” her grandfather’s deep voice rumbled.

“What?” Tori jumped and her stomach growled.

“Surely you aren’t going to make Steven run his errands in stained clothes, are you?” He paused only a second before continuing. “You’ve been here for hours. Why don’t you go on home and get both of your clothes washed before those stains set in.”

Steven shook his head. “I’ll be fine, really.”

“Nonsense,” her grandfather stated, “It looks as if the two of you took a dive into the punch bowl. Don’t worry about us. You get something to eat, clean up and take care of Steven. Can’t send a man on his way looking like that.”

Tori wanted to fade like a mirage on the desert. In addition to being sticky, she was tired, hungry and anxious to find out more about Abuela’s condition. None of which were going to get any attention sitting in a waiting room. “Yes, sir. I’ll be back soon.” She kissed her grandparents, picked up her bags and headed out the door as the staff arrived to take her grandmother for tests.

Steven followed. Halfway down the hall he broke the silence. “You don’t need to concern yourself with my clothes with all you have on your mind, Tori.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should have suggested it earlier. Abuelo’s right. I couldn’t send you to the store looking like that.” She dug through her bag searching for her keys, rattling on about where she’d parked. “You can follow me to my condo. It’s not more than ten minutes away.”

“I can pick up another set of clothes. It’s no big deal, really. I’m not afraid of a mess…or being seen like this. You, on the other hand, know people here and have a reputation to uphold as principal of the prestigious high school.”

“Assistant principal of a middle school, and I never—”

“You didn’t have to.” A twinkle lit his almond-shaped eyes, and Tori considered why her grandpa had suddenly become so insistent about her leaving with Steven. “Your grandfather didn’t stop talking about your successful career.” Steven’s eyes shone with admiration. “Jose is very proud of you.”

What in the world had Grandpa told him?

Her grandparents hadn’t played matchmaker in nearly a decade, since she’d moved to Colorado Springs for her first teaching job. And this was a lousy day to make up for lost time. She looked as if she’d just come from the mines, with no makeup and stains darkening her clothes by the minute. “Grandfather talks when he’s upset.”

“I can vouch for that,” Steven said with a chuckle. “I enjoyed his company.”

“You probably didn’t get a word in edgewise.” Tori’s hand reached for her keys and pulled them out. “Good grief, it’s almost lunchtime.” As if on cue, her stomach growled again. “While your clothes are washing, we can order lunch. It’s no bother.” Except that she needed to eat something as soon as possible.

“Much as I’d enjoy that, you have—”

She felt a wave of dizziness and hurried to the elevators.

“You okay?” He pulled her away from the door and pressed the elevator button. “Can I get you anything?”

Would this embarrassment never end? “I’ll be fine as soon as I eat something.” She reached into her bag. “I was in such a hurry this morning, I forgot the bagel I toasted. I have hypoglycemia. As my emergency granola bar will prove, I haven’t had a problem with it for a long time.” She held up the foil pouch with the label worn off, and tore it open, then took a bite.

“I think maybe I’d better drive,” he said.

“You’ve done too much already, Steven.”

“Friends call me Steve.” The elevators opened and he ushered her inside. A group of female nurses stared at them in silence. “Parking garage, please.”

She lifted her gaze to his, “I parked in the east lot.”

“We’re not taking your car,” Steve said.

She shook her head. “You don’t know where I live.”

“I’m about to find out, because you’re in no condition to drive.” As if he, too, had become aware of the attention they were drawing, he added, “With the stress of your grandmother’s stroke, you have to be sure to eat and take care of yourself.”

The elevator stopped and the nurses left, giggles erupting as the doors closed.

“Stroke? She had a stroke?” Tori collapsed against the corner of the tiny cubicle. The air seemed to be getting thicker.

He looked at her, shocked. “Isn’t that what they said?”

“I didn’t hear that specifically. I didn’t want to ask….” She took several deep breaths. “What a spectacle I’ve made today. I’m not usually like this, Steven.”

“Steve.” He lifted her chin. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s been a lot to handle, with your parents out of the country on a mission and no one else nearby to help. It wouldn’t be easy on anyone.”

She willed back the tears she wanted desperately to shed. “I’m not ready to let her go. Abuela practically raised me.”

“The doctor sounded hopeful.”

The elevator opened and they stepped into the cool air of the parking garage. “You really think he sounded positive, that she’s going to be okay?”

“I do.” Steve led the way to his truck. “Of course, you need to be realistic at the same time. She may not make a full recovery. But your grandmother is a strong woman who will get through this.”

Tori didn’t want to hear platitudes—from the doctor, a nurse or a good-looking, smooth-talking rancher who had probably never met her grandmother before. “Abuela is strong, and she won’t give up. I won’t let her.”

Steve opened the passenger-side door and helped her inside. “I don’t doubt it for a minute.”

She poured some of the broken granola into her mouth and crunched so loud she couldn’t hear herself think. “So what do you want for lunch? There are several fast-food places to choose from between here and my place.”

“I’d just as soon get you home. We can grab a bite there. You need to get back to your grandparents.”

She gave him the once-over. “You don’t look like the yogurt-and-fruit kind of guy—” Her door closed, cutting her off. Watching his confident stride take him around the truck, she felt like a teenager ogling a new kid at school. He opened the driver’s door and stepped up. “And that’s about all that’s in my fridge at the moment.”