Warner Renshaw leaned forward onto the steering wheel and peered out the bug-streaked windshield. His white Toyota truck hugged the steep gravel slope of Wa-Wilkin Road as it descended into the remote Suiattle River valley. The primitive surface veered to the right, beyond which the forest greenery parted to reveal Whitehorse Mountain’s snow-clad prominence rising up from the adjoining valley.
“That’s beautiful!” Warner exclaimed, and then smiled at his wife, Kendra, whose trim figure barely compressed the passenger seat.
“Pretty. This will be a nice change…,” she said with a smile while gripping the handhold above her window. “If we survive.” Peering out the passenger window, she watched the steep drop-off race by directly outside her door.
Oblivious to the surrounding beauty, Warner’s giant schnauzer, Bella, crowded onto the center console. The 120-pound canine, easily mistaken for a young black bear, propped her shaggy muzzle on the front dashboard and stared ahead while her nose smeared wet streaks across the windshield.
“You as excited as we are, girl?” Warner asked, reaching over to scratch the long, curling black hair behind the dog’s ears.
“Should she be sitting there?” Kendra asked.
“She’s fine. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”
“Well, I hope you wouldn’t let a child of ours do that,” she said with mild disapproval.
Warner smiled. “Of course I would.”
-- : --
The seventeen-month-old boy toddled over to the center of the clearing to pick through the cool strands of jade-colored moss. Grabbing a handful of charred remains, he crushed them between his fingers. The crisp cinders stained his hands with streaks of charcoal.
From her favorite spot near the edge of the Tollmans’ clearing, Lina propped herself on one elbow and watched her son, Jayden. She couldn’t help shaking her head.
Three damn years since the fire and I’m still waiting. What I gotta do if bearing that brat ain’t even brought Luke back? I should tell the deputy what really happened that night. No, if I broke my promise like that, Luke’d tell John what he knows.
Wrestling with a familiar depression, Lina reached for her small shoulder purse and retreated into the comfort of a familiar ritual. Shortly, she found an escape from loneliness in the deep inhale of pungent smoke. As she sprawled back onto the blanket, her attention dissolved with the pale gray wisp as it rose into the stillness of the woodland air. Closing her eyes, she tried to drift into thoughts of happier times.
-- : --
The nearby peaks signaled an early dusk was approaching when the road leveled off and the Renshaws entered a shadowed stretch of untamed forest broken by the last streamers of sunlight. Nearing their destination, Warner anxiously watched for the landmarks provided by their realtor: a small faded sign for a tree farm, now abandoned; a short pullout leading to a primitive campsite; and finally a towering hemlock draped with witch’s hair. The tree marked the northwest boundary of the Renshaws’ new Suiattle riverfront property.
His excitement mounted in anticipation of the chance to become more acquainted with his wilderness dream. After all, it’s going to be our home. Then Kendra and I can get back to enjoying life without the hassle from the masses. Maybe even have a family of our own….
Retrieving her cell phone from the dashboard, Kendra glanced at the small display. “No service,” she said, before tossing the phone back onto the dashboard.
“We’ll work something out by the time we move here,” Warner replied. “Let’s just enjoy the campout. I can’t wait to explore our home together.”
“Future home. Remember, you have to build it first,” she said smiling.
Driving along the boundary of the small acreage, Warner was wondering what the early loggers must have experienced in the remote wilderness when a flash of pink caught his eye.
“What was that?” Slowing the truck, he glanced through the trees lining the road and searched for the source of color.
“I hope no one’s camping on our property,” Kendra said.
Reaching the end of Wa-Wilkin Road, Warner turned onto a long neglected drive that led to a grassy clearing surrounded by tall red cedar trees. Pulling to an abrupt stop, he and Kendra stared out the windshield. A toddler sat alone in the clearing, gazing at them with an innocent face streaked with black.
-- : --
The marijuana’s effect subsided and Lina opened her hazel eyes. She lazily watched the thin orange clouds drift across the evening’s deep indigo dome. Sprawled on the worn blanket, she found her breeze-rustled skirt bunched about her hips, exposing her slender legs. When a soft rustle sounded to her right, she jerked upright with a sudden feeling of anxiety mixed with guilt.
“Damn it, JD!” she said to the emptiness, realizing Jayden was no longer in sight.
A twig snapped behind her and her heart tried to leap from the clearing. Twisting about, Lina found her son standing next to a stranger who squatted less than ten feet away. The man wore new tan boots and clean brown Carhartts. Nothing second-hand about this guy. What’s a city boy doing trespassing on our homestead?
“Get over here, JD!” Lina snapped, brushing down her skirt and scrambling to her feet.
Jayden’s smile vanished as he ran to his mother and darted behind her.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Warner said, rising to his feet with a self-conscious smile. “My name’s Warner. I found your little boy all by himself over there in the clearing.”
Facing the stranger, she looked up at his pleasant face and noticed his clean tousled brown hair bore the faint scent of apples. And his eyes, crinkled at the corners with fine lines, were like the cool blue of deep water. Probably one of them leaf lickers or bird watchers. Glancing beyond the man’s shoulder, she noticed a late model white Toyota truck parked at the end of the Tollmans’ drive. A dark-haired woman sat in the passenger seat while a beautiful black dog scuttled like a bad dancer in the driver’s side; the window glass muffled its high-pitched yammer. Lina returned her gaze to the man and pursed her lips.
“I called out but you didn’t answer. You must have been sleeping pretty well,” Warner said in an amicable tone.
“Whatcha want?” she asked, brushing a tendril of auburn hair from her eyes. When a look of amusement appeared on the man’s face, she blushed. “You laughing at me?” She raised her hand to hide the scar on her cheek.
“Of course… never… I mean, of course not,” he stammered, glancing at her hand. “My wife and I are just here to do some camping. We didn’t expect to find anyone on—”
“Campsite’s across the road for people like you,” she said.
Warner’s eyebrows rose. “Well…,” he hesitated. “I’d rather stay on my own property.”
“You don’t mean here, else you’s turned around. This is the Tollmans’ place.”
“Not as of Monday. My wife and I signed the papers and so did Mr. Tollman, according to our realtor. It’s ours now.”
Lina stepped back and her brow furrowed. “Luke’d never let his papa sell us out. He’s gonna rebuild our cabin so’s we can raise our family right here.” She motioned toward the moss-covered ground as if she were scattering chicken feed.
In confusion mixed with pity, Warner let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. Apparently Mr. Tollman needed the money—since he did sell us the land.”
As the news sank in, Lina became distraught and her eyes threatened to tear up. Tucking her chin against her chest, strands of limp hair fell forward and obscured her face.
Suddenly awash in his own emotions, an awkward look constricted Warner’s face. “Sounds like we share a similar dream,” he whispered, gently.