Being Decisive - Part 5

Hello Friday Fiction Fans!
I'm having a hard time believing it could be Friday, but I'll post anyway. :)

My week has been busy. I've had three evening of writing and have gotten some done. Not as much as I would have liked, but at least it was something. I've also done a lot of trying to catch up on things and working on odds & ends that just hadn't gotten done.
 Last night we were babysitting the kiddos. Actually we had them all morning too. But they went home to take naps and didn't return until about 5:30 or so. Tonight we have a wedding to go to, but maybe I can write Saturday night. I have lots of ideas for the 4th TCR book, but I either get stuck in little places or I don't have time to write. I'm going to try to do better. You all can pray I have time and that the story moves along. Would you all like TCR-4 by Christmas? I'm not promising anything, but I might be more motivated with more feedback. :)

Well, this is the last part of Being Decisive. I think I'll post "Forget Not" next week. Well, I'll at least start it next week. :) Perhaps in the midst of writing TCR-4 I can get a few other short stories written that are just waiting for me. I always have several stories going at once, at least in my brain. :P I know, I'm strange. But I don't like to have more than one book started that I'm reading. Go figure.

And here is the last and final part! Enjoy!

Being Decisive

Part 5

Mel’s aunt and uncle were there waiting, and Dick was swiftly transferred from the truck to the car in the midst of a babble of words from the excited younger girls, calm, direct instructions and replies from the older boys, and soothing ones from Cath and Aunt Mary.
    During the confusion, Mel managed to slip unnoticed from the truck and hobble up the steps and into the kitchen. Dropping into the first chair she came to, she leaned her tired, aching head on her arms and gave a little whimper. She wanted to go up to bed, but the pain in her feet made her delay just a little longer. The noise outside died down and then the sound of boots on the porch was heard. How Mel wanted to go hide right then! If it hadn’t been for her, no one would have gotten hurt. Oh, why had she agreed to go to Lookout Rock?
    “Mel?”
    Reluctantly, tiredly, Melody lifted her head though her eyes remained lowered. “I . . . I . . . I’m sorry,” she stammered and then bit her lip in an attempt to keep back her tears lest her cousins think her a baby.
    “Sorry?” Don exclaimed. “Sorry for what?”
    And Cath added, as she knelt down beside her cousin, “You saved Dick’s life, Mel. If you hadn’t gone to him and stayed with him, he probably would have tried to move and would have fallen again.”
    “I still don’t know how you managed to climb that cliff, though,” Tom put in.
    Mel shrugged, and winced from pain. “I just had to do it.”
    “You were decisive when it counted,” Cath whispered.
    Gently Tom turned her hands over and looked at the raw palms. “Next time you try climbing a cliff, wear some gloves,” he teased with a smile, drawing up a chair as Don set a bowl of warm water down next to a first aid box. “Now let’s get them taken care of and then we’ll have a look at your feet.”
    Mel did her best not to cry as her cousins washed her cut hands and bandaged them, though they stung and smarted. Looking at her bound hands, she wondered how she was going to be able to do any of her assigned chores. It seemed impossible to hold anything right then.
    “Did you climb with your socks on, Mel?” Tom asked, scooting his chair farther back and looking down at her stocking feet.
    “No, but—” she added quickly as Don brought the bowl with fresh water back and sat down. “Could you please not do anything to my feet yet?”
    Don looked up quickly. “Why?”
    Mel shifted in her seat and hesitated. Her cousins waited in patient silence. “They don’t hurt too much right now if nothing touches them and I don’t move them. Please!” she begged, not sure she could keep back the tears if there was more pain.
    Slowly Tom shook his head. “Sorry, Mel,” he apologized, “but if your feet are anything like your hands, the sooner they are taken care of the better it will be. If you didn’t climb in your socks, when did you put them on?”
    “As you came down.” The reply was half whispered and Melody pressed her lips together as her socks were gently pulled off, exposing her cut and bruised feet.
    Don couldn’t hold back a low whistle which brought Cath and Lou over to look. Liz, who couldn’t stand the sight of blood, remained on the other side of the room. “How you ever managed to keep climbing with feet like this . . .” Don shook his head and left his sentence unfinished.
    Jim arrived before the feet were bandaged and raised his eyebrows at the sight, though he only said, “Here are your boots, Mel. The horses are fine. Dad call yet?”
    It wasn’t until much later, after supper was eaten that the phone call came. Dick was going to be fine. He had a broken leg, as Tom had suspected, but, because Melody had reached him quickly and had kept him quiet until help arrived, it wasn’t made worse by moving.
    Melody went to bed that night feeling much relieved by the good news, but the pain in her hands and feet kept her awake for quite a while. She was still awake when a car drove down the driveway. Sitting up in bed, she listened. Yes, it was her aunt and uncle bringing Dick home. With a sudden longing to see for herself that Dick was going to be okay, Melody managed to limp out into the upper hall. There she sat down at the top of the stairs and peered through the banisters.
    Moments later her uncle came in carrying Dick, followed by Aunt Mary. Don and Cath, who were the only ones who had waited up, said a few low words to Dick before he was borne upstairs. Melody knew she wouldn’t be able to slip back to her room before she was noticed, so she remained where she was.
    “Why, Mel,” her aunt said softly, “I thought you would be in bed.”
    “I just wanted to see that Dick really was . . .” her voice faltered as her eyes rested on the doorway into which her uncle had just disappeared.
    Aunt Mary must have understood for she patted Mel’s shoulder and whispered, “I’ll be back just as soon as I make sure Dicky is settled for the night.”
    A sob welled up inside her and suddenly all the tears she had been holding back began to trickle down her cheeks, and when her aunt and uncle returned, Mel was shaking with half suppressed sobs. Without a word Uncle John lifted her and carried her down to the living room. In the tender embrace of her aunt, Melody cried as she had rarely cried before. All the fear, self-reproach and anxiety she had held in check for so many hours, poured forth, and it was some time before her tears could be checked. At last, however, her sobs lessoned, and she leaned, exhausted against her aunt.
    “Mel,” Uncle John said, taking one of her bandaged hands in his, “your quick thinking and the swiftness with which you acted saved Dick’s life today. Thank you.”

    It was several days before Melody could walk about with comfort, and a full week before her uncle would allow her to return to all her chores. But Mel was happy. She felt that Don and Cath fully approved of her. Dick was getting well and she knew that she could be decisive when an emergency arose. When it came to the small things, however, she still couldn’t make up her mind.

Have you ever felt like Mel?

What did you think of the story?

Any other character qualities I should write about?

Let me know!