Page 1 of Saved By Noel
Chapter one
Clark
Ishould have slept. Instead, I spent the midnight hours convincing myself that this bewitching attraction I experienced last night is merely that: attraction. I mentally cataloged a list of explanations to dismiss my reaction to her.
A list I recite as I walk up to the front porch and ring the doorbell.
But the second she opens the door with wide eyes and a warm smile, every self-preservation alarm in my body begins blaring out code-red warnings.
I am in so much trouble.
Chapter two
Clark
Four weeks earlier. . .
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
I’m met with silence, despite fixing my deepest scowl on Beau’s face. I set down my wrench on the new bathroom sink I installed in Beau’s half-bath.
“Beau, tell me you’re kidding. You can’t seriously be thinking of moving,” I press again when he still hasn’t answered.
“We’re not just thinking about it, Clark,” he finally responds. He swallows hard before continuing. “Abby and I have been talking about it for a while now, thinking through our options. And we decided that moving on is the best choice for our family. The house is going on the market next week.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Hold up—so you made me party to your abandoning our town? You finally called me out here to install a working sink in the bathroom, not foryouruse, but so you can sell the house?”
Beau drops his eyes to his shoes, unable to hold my gaze. “Look, man, I wanted to do the right thing and tell you in person.Make sure you heard it from me and not just see the sign go up in the yard.”
“You mean, you think it’s theright thingto leave behind the town that raised you? Leave behind your best friends since childhood, not to mention your parents?” I take a step closer, arms crossed over my chest, daring Beau to look me in the eye again. He’s about three inches shorter than my 6’ 3” frame, but he stands to his full height and stares me back down. I’ll give him credit for that.
“Actually, our folks are moving with us. I got a reliable job in Joplin, and our parents will stick with us to help Abby with the kids. It also gets us all closer to Abby’s sister in Springfield,” Beau says, the hesitance gone from his voice. “I’m sorry, Clark, but I have to think about my family. I have to provide for them. With the plant closing down, there aren’t enough opportunities left. We don’t have a choice.”
Beau’s words are a gut punch, knocking the wind out of me. I grab my wrench off the sink, leaving behind the water pooled in the new cabinet from the installation process. Beau can clean up the mess himself after roping me into beautifying his house so he can sell it. Traitor.
I pick up my tool-box and stomp through the house to the front door. Beau’s announcement sinks in more with each step. Not only are he and Abby leaving, but both sets of their parents. Three more families skipping town. I don’t even want to add up what that brings the tally to this month.
Tucked in the woods along the Deer River in the northwest corner of Arkansas, our little town has plenty of beautiful scenery to enjoy. Tourists do just that, giving us an economic boost during the summer float season. Visitors make their way to the cabins and campgrounds around the area, renting canoes and kayaks to float the Deer River.
The rest of the year, the permanent population hovers around 2,000 people, making for a tight-knit community. A community that has been largely fortified by employment at the Byers meat-packing plant in town.
That is, until Byers shut it down four months ago, sending shock waves of panic through every corner of the city. Almost every household had at least one family member working at Byers before they announced the company was consolidating and closing our plant. They may as well have detonated a bomb on Main Street.
Peak tourist season over the summer kept a lot of families around even after the plant shut down in May. People picked up extra work where they could while they tried to find new permanent opportunities. Unfortunately, no one thought to plant any extra opportunity trees, and families’ options have dried up. This month, we’ve seen the beginning of a mass exodus, particularly among the families newer to the community.
But Beau and Abbyaren’tnew to the community. They were both born and raised here, same as me. Our parents and grandparents grew up here together too. Beau and Abby choosing to leave cuts deep. Too deep.
“Clark, come on, don’t leave here all ticked off,” Beau’s voice booms as he catches up to me in the foyer. “I never wanted to leave town, never wanted to leave you and the other guys. But sometimes in life we don’t get what we want—we have to accept what we’re given and make do with the change.”
As angry as I feel, as tempted as I am to paint Beau the traitor for leaving us behind, I do understand his predicament. He and Abby have three kids to provide for, whereas I’m a single man with stable finances and no one else to worry about. I sigh as I turn to face him. “Have you told Davis yet?”
“Yeah, I let him know yesterday,” Beau answers. Davis Baker is my closest friend, even closer than Beau. The three of us grew from boyhood to manhood together, playing along the river as kids, then playing every sport throughout school. Although there are other guys I’ve known most of my life, Beau and Davis are the only ones I’ve let get close. The two men who really know me.
And now one is leaving.
“I’m sorry, Clark,” Beau says as he grips my shoulder. “I’m sorry to catch you off guard, sorry to leave you and Davis, to leave everyone here. I wish there was another way.”
I relent and clap Beau’s shoulder back. “It’s not your fault, man. Stupid Byers execs making these sweeping decisions from their cushioned office chairs. They don’t think about the families and communities they’re imploding in the process. I can’t blame you for being collateral damage.”
