6

 

“Stuffy in here. I need some air,” Beth announced. She grabbed her coat where it had been heaped in the corner and slung open the door. The cold moisture iced her lungs and coated her memory of the last incident with Barton.

The door hadn’t clicked shut before Aiden joined her on the frozen, creaking porch. “I know Littlefield hurt you, Beth. You never deserved that kind of treatment.”

She’d talked enough about it. She cushioned her coat beneath her on the bench, where she leaned over with elbows on knees, her chin resting in cupped hands.

“This weather reminds me of home,” Aiden said a minute later, joining her. “Now that it’s not snowing, I have the hankering to put that tent back up and climb in my sub-zero sleeping bag.”

“What’s that saying about the farm? You can leave the state, but you can’t take the state out of the boy.” She could tease him a bit, but what else did she have to offer Aiden?

“Do you really hear Minnesota when I talk?”

She nodded, her thoughts returned to gloom. Barton had made her feel helpless and weak. How did Aiden see her? She wanted to be strong for him.

Beth drew in her stomach, put her shoulders back, and stared into the post-storm world. The trees were beautiful, coated with white.

She knew God viewed her as pure. After all, He’d washed her sins away. But until she saw herself cleansed, as white as that snow, she’d rely on her own resources, as well as gaining her strength from the Lord. Yet, she was also a woman. She was so tempted to lean on Aiden.

But she refused to look to a man for strength.

Too cold to sit still and soak in the calm after the storm, she bent and grabbed an armload of wood.

Aiden followed suit and opened the door for her. “It’s late. I should be going.”

She opened the damper and put more wood into the stove. Heat from the fire seared her hands, yet felt good at the same time. She secured the door latch and brushed her hands on her pant legs. Flipping the damper closed, she asked, “How many people were in the café?”

He slapped his forehead with his knuckles. “Oh, man, I can’t believe I forgot. She said it was really important.”

“Who said? What’s important?”

“When I picked up dinner for two, the waitress asked me who I was sharing my meal with in the middle of a blizzard. I said your name, and this gal came to the counter. Your cousin Cassie introduced herself. She asked me to have you get in touch with her. As in, ASAP.”

“Really? I suppose she or my Aunt Mary tried to call me. I don’t get cell service here in the trees. I always have to go higher than the river, out to the road.”

“Me, too. Do you think it can wait until morning?”

“It’ll have to, considering the weather conditions. If it was a matter of life or death, Bart Whitney has a blade on his truck, so he could get to me. I would imagine he’ll clear the drifts between me and the blacktop first thing in the morning.”

“All right, then. Thanks for the company.” He opened his arms. “How about a hug?”

Unable to resist the way he looked like a fuzzy bear in the bulk of his coat, she stepped into his warm invitation. He folded the flaps of his coat around her so she felt the impact of his strength, his flannel-covered solidity.

She sighed. And hated the way she melted into him as though she had reached the end of herself. But he smelled so good! He reminded her of the woods, strong as a tree trunk braced against a storm, yet vulnerable saplings peaked through the rugged exterior.

Just as Aiden lowered his chin to rest against the top of her head, she pulled out of the embrace. He was too tempting. Her past threatened to raise its sensual response. No way would she sink back into that impulse to give her body, then end up at the mercy of a man’s superiority.

An inner voice niggled that Aiden was different. It was her own base desires she didn’t trust.

The flashlight revealed his scowl. No doubt, he was perplexed at her hot and cold reactions.

“It’s late.” She softened the gruffness from her voice. “Time to call it a night.”

Aiden’s face closed off the way cabin shutters blocked out the noonday sun. He stepped back, zipped his coat with a loud rasp, and stomped out of the cabin without a word.

Beth felt his absence before the door latch clicked. A pent-up sigh lifted her chest.

She hurried out into the milky moonlight. “Aiden, please forgive me. Things will look different tomorrow.”

He waved an arm over his head but didn’t retrace his steps. The Jeep engine rumbled to life, and he drove away. She wondered how far he could get without ramming into an immovable snowdrift.

She lost sight of the SUV lights at the same time the cabin lights flared back to life. “Sorry, Lord. Aiden’s bound to think I’m nuts. Please watch over him and keep him safe through the rest of the night.”

She had no idea whether or not he’d vetoed the tent idea. He could park where he had when they first met. Or he could have gone back to Platteville, risking the weather for a warm bed at the B & B. She went inside and leaned against the door until she no longer heard a sound in the snow-blanketed woods.

Aiden had acted out of kindness, treating her to the dinner they shared.

But Barton had been kind to her as well, in order for her to depend on him. Only he wanted her spirit and her soul as well as her body, overlooking her as a person. She’d been an object to Barton. His obsession had turned to abuse.

Could Aiden be different? Or was his kindness a smooth con job on his part? He might want her company because she could help him get close to Lakota. No, there was more to the man than using her.

Together, they would hook up the wolf to an expandable breakaway collar.

Aiden’s terminology. He may no longer need her afterward. Who knew what would happen? Either to the wolf or to bring Aiden back to the cabin.

Whatever the case, she couldn’t succumb to a man’s charm again.

No matter Aiden’s motivation for making a move on her senses, she was better off going through life alone.

Yet, she wasn’t alone. She had the Lord. She thanked Him for the day as she prepared for bed. “And, Lord, thanks for Aiden’s company during the storm. Show me how You want me to think of him.”

Even after counseling, her thoughts could get so jumbled. Abuse was never invited. But it left scars. Was she capable of a healthy, intimate relationship with a man some day? Or had Barton ruined that for her?

Beth ran a finger over the wolf photograph on the journal cover, and saw Lakota’s eyes staring back at her. She began recording what she titled Wolf Antics.

“I’m not alone as long as Lakota is nearby,” she mumbled, scribbling away. Before long, the pen slipped from her fingers, and sleep overtook her.

The next morning, she woke to the sound of raindrops on the roof. Somehow the gentle drumming lightened her mood.

She had dreamt of Aiden. His way of talking could be humorous, but her mind connected him with the woods. She pursed her lips, but that reminded her of kissing. The twitch morphed into a smile.

“Thank You, Lord, for a new day. Waking up to thoughts of Aiden can’t be all bad, right?”

Aiden’s empathy, his innate goodness pulled for the underdog. He pulled for her, when it came to Barton. He also had a soft spot for Grace and the cause of her hurt.

She stretched and turned to the window. Only in Nebraska could a spring blizzard be followed by rain. A warm front obviously descended during the night. And she had overslept. The tree branches were washed of snow.

Wind in the woods is a living presence, and it called to her to come outdoors to play. Beth attended to the stove in record time, layered on warm clothes, and covered it all with a hooded slicker.

Outside, a mighty movement of some kind greeted her. It howled. Whistled. Screeched. She tried not to cower and run back inside. She cocked her head and closed her eyes in order to concentrate on identifying the noise. Was Lakota in trouble?

When she opened her eyes, she spied the source. A broken branch scraped against a neighboring tree trunk. It now screamed like a mountain lion as it rubbed where it leaned, unable to fall to earth.

When she lowered her gaze, the wolf stood before her.

Impervious to the rustling heavens and the wind that ruffled his hide, Lakota appeared to be in his element. A few hairs were matted with moisture, but she imagined rain sluiced off due to natural oils, keeping his skin dry. How fitting, the wilder the weather, the more this magnificent creature blended into his environment.

He made her feel things she had no words for. And she marveled at the connection they had when their gazes met. “You got it, pal. My spirit is electrified, the same as yours, by this kind of weather.”

The rain switched from sheets to sprinkles. Beth observed the way forceful winds had knocked off all the dry pine needles. The cleansing rain melted the snow and brightened the spring-washed pine trees. Their brilliance matched new green grass popping through the few remaining patches of snow piled on the ground. The obviousness of nature spoke to Beth.

Lakota was part of nature, and he needed protection.

Because of Lakota, she had met Aiden.

She and Aiden wouldn’t be in the picture with Grace and Lakota if God hadn’t planned for their paths to cross.

 

****

 

On her way into town, Beth slopped through more mud than snow until she hit the blacktop. The rain must have fallen lighter near the river, since there were still a few occasional wind-blown snowdrifts.

By the time she reached the outskirts of Platteville, the rain had stopped.

At the stoplight near Platteville Middle School, something in the air caught her eye. A pair of tennis shoes with tied laces dangled on either side of an electric wire. She angled her head for a closer look and erupted into laughter. She was glad the pair dangled together rather than tossed aside as lonely, single shoes. They gleamed white after the rain, washed clean.

“Kids.” When the light changed, she realized her brighter mood. “What is middle school, anyway? Whatever happened to junior high?”

As she turned the corner, the new gray siding on her aunt’s house stood out, almost too brightly, on a street of small run-down homes. The house was the only one on the block with shutters, thanks to the goodness of a group of believers at Faith Bible Church.

And thank the Lord for firefighters. Without them nearby, her cousin Cassandra Jorgenson’s daughter, Emily, may never have grown to see a middle grade in school.

Beth remembered the shock on Eric’s face that day when she and Moselle raced up to the smoking home together. They’d been at Frivolities after Beth had sought Moselle out in order to make restitution for the past.

Aunt Mary came running from a neighbor’s home, and screamed that she’d only been gone a minute, before yanking Emily from Eric’s arms. Emily had been playing in the backyard sandbox when Mary’s friend called for her to look at a new quilt. Emily then went inside and overturned a burning candle.

Beth shook off the fire memories when she shut off the Ford’s engine. Her aunt appeared at the front door as Beth opened the pickup’s door.

“Oh, thank God, you’re here. He got away,” Mary Wood yelled before Beth closed her truck door. “He’s out there somewhere.”

“What? Who?”

“Your attorney called from Jefferson City. Barton got out early. But he never checked in with his parole officer.”

Beth sagged to the sidewalk, folding like a collapsed tent.

She’d been fooling herself. How had she remained so blind? The illusion of normalcy was false. She swallowed, pulled herself together, and stretched to her full height. “I need some coffee.”

Beth slumped into a chair at the kitchen table and buried her head in her folded arms, facing reality.

Aunt Mary touched her shoulder. “Here’s your coffee, honey.”

Beth sat up. “Thanks. I don’t understand. It isn’t time for him to be out. You can get good behavior for spousal abuse? He’s not above assaulting anyone who stands in his way. If Barton finds me here in Platteville, I’ve endangered my whole family.”

“Don’t you worry none about the rest of us,” Mary said as she took the seat across the table. “God will watch over us.”

Fear is never of God.

The conviction calmed her erratic thoughts. She kept her eyes closed, raised her head, and brought her hands together.

Mary covered Beth’s hands with hers and prayed. “Lord, You are the only reason precious Beth is sitting here today. You have saved her multiple times from Barton’s wrath. Please give us peace. Keep watching over us. It’s natural to feel weak and afraid, but You are our strength. Please be strong in Beth. Keep her safe and show her what to do.”

They drank the steaming coffee in silence.

Fortified, Beth asked about her cousin, thanked her aunt, and left the house feeling sick at the idea of leaving a stained trail behind her. Her racing emotions piled on one another as she drove away. Then she buried them. Numbness replaced fear. She couldn’t form the words for a prayer of her own. Should she go to the sheriff and let him know about her part in Barton’s arrest and imprisonment?

Turning onto Main Street, Beth choked on a sob. All she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry. But her eyes remained dry.

Because of her experiences with men, she didn’t want to care, but Aiden was on her mind more than ever. Should she go into all the gory details with him so he’d be on the lookout for Barton, as well? As if she’d willed him to appear, she slowed. Aiden backed his Jeep out from a stall by Today’s Café, right in front of her. He waved a hand before his rearview mirror.

Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. Aiden. She blew a huge gust of air. Aiden was her lifeline to normalcy. He turned towards the cabin.

She let her mind go blank. The Jeep’s back fender was her guide, all the way to the cabin.

They parked and exited their vehicles simultaneously.

“If I—”

“That was—”

Aiden laughed.

She remained serious.

He pointed a finger for her to speak first.

“I was just going to say it was a relief following you. Something happened. I’m so glad I’m not alone.”

He frowned. She knew she was babbling, talking too fast to follow.

“If I’d known you were in town, I would have bought you breakfast.”

“Well, I didn’t have any.”

“If you help me spread the tarp to keep my tent floor dry, I’ll share my lunch. I have enough for two.”

“A man after my own heart.”

What had she said? He tossed his keys, remembered when he caught them. Somehing happened. “Beth, wait. What did you mean, something happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it now.” She studied her shoes instead of looking at him. “Tell you what. I’ll help you pitch your tent after we smooth the tarp. Then maybe you can help me haul out the bathroom fixtures.”

“Bathroom fixtures?”

“Yep. I need to beat something up. I took the sink out in pieces, but the toilet and tub are beyond my strength.”

“You mean you won’t take a sledge hammer to ‘em like on the TV renovation shows?”

She gave him a friendly shove, but he reached for her instead of stepping back. He rubbed her arms from elbows to shoulders. “Until you get out what’s bothering you, beating up bathroom fixtures is just the thing this doctor orders.”

He released her, turned to the open door of his Jeep, and then filled her arms with a new plastic tarp still in its wrapper. Aiden worked his shoulders into a backpack, hoisted the tent pack, and they trekked off.

He stopped so abruptly, their bundles threatened to fall. “We have company,” Aiden whispered at the same time Beth spied Lakota.

The wolf kept in step with the humans, traveling in the same direction, only fifteen feet away. Beth wanted to watch Lakota instead of where she placed her feet, but she had to keep an eye on the ground so she wouldn’t slip in the mud. He disappeared again by the time the tent was pitched.

They returned to the cabin for a quick bite before attacking the bathroom. And attack she did. Every time she struck the hammer or threw a piece of broken porcelain, she pictured Barton’s face, knowing it was wrong to vent in such a way. Finally, she calmed by replacing the picture in her mind’s eye with one of Jesus holding a lamb in His arms. “Forgive me, Lord. Keep my focus on You.”

They mostly worked in silence. She had yet to tell Aiden what happened.

Three hours later, Beth stretched the kinks out of her back. “Thanks for your muscles, Aiden. It felt so good to vent all my frustrated anger on those bathroom furnishings.”

“I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”

“I appreciate that. But for now, I’m calling it a day.” She planted a foot against the side of the dumpster to ease a cramp from her calf. “Can we watch for Lakota together so you can do what you’re getting paid to do?”

“You didn’t need my muscles for the bathroom, but I may have saved you some steps. As for the wolf, we won’t have to watch for him. He’s spying on us again.” Aiden pointed to where Lakota stood in front of a gooseberry bush, staring at them. “Only problem is, my dart gun is in the tent.”

“I hate to think of you taking aim. That’s probably the only way to collar him, right?”

“Right. But you won’t have to watch. Look at it this way, once he’s down, you can touch him.”

“You go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

He shot her a frown but, to his credit, didn’t question her.

The wolf twitched an ear at Aiden’s back and returned his unwavering gaze to Beth.

Out of a practiced habit that she had let slide since Barton was locked up, she assessed the clearing and the trees closest to the cabin, seeking places a man could conceal himself.

She leaped over the edge of the porch and locked the cabin door. She took off after Aiden. Lakota loped in the opposite direction.

When Aiden turned at her approach, she came to a stop. “Sorry, Lakota bounded off.”

“He’ll keep. Are you sure you can’t tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been too quiet. I watched you beat up that bathroom. Your eyes are clouded over, as dark as the gray clouds above. Can I help with what’s troubling you?”

“I couldn’t say it out loud before. I haven’t wanted to face the truth.” Her breath shuddered. “Barton was released.”

“Come again?”

“Barton is on the loose. He’ll find me and bring everything I’m trying to leave behind with him.” She tried to detach, looking at herself from a distance, the way she had so many times in the past. That’s how one avoided feeling. “Are you able to change the past? Can you understand trauma that may be a lifelong shadow?”

He reached for her hand. The warm connection shot straight to her heart. His direct look penetrated her soul, as though he wished to pull the hurt from deep within.

She could feel, after all.

“I’ve had some drama that hurt me at a young age.” He rubbed her wrist with his thumb. “I considered it traumatic at the time.”

A cardinal chose that moment to whistle, a clear call of delight through the trees.

Beth searched for the tuft of the brownish female worthy of such care. She guessed they paired off for life. Would she ever be worthy of such an admiring mate?

She bent her knees to perch on a soggy log. Aiden sat beside her, still holding her hand.

Could she pour it all out? She’d love to have him for a friend, but he didn’t need to hear about her ugly past. He was a decent guy. Did she know how to be friends with a man? And would he want to be near her, knowing her past? “You read the article.”

His silence prompted Beth to wonder what he was thinking. His hold on her hand tightened in support. She couldn’t tell him the whole story.

Oh, God, give me hope. I’m a mess and I don’t like the feeling. Don’t let fear overtake me again.

The woods around them erupted with the flapping wings and squawking cacophony of hundreds of flighty yellow-headed blackbirds. Beth watched them in wonder. They looked like they wanted to land, but most of them came within a hair’s width of touching branches, only to lift back into the air.

Once the birds were out of sight, the palpable silence stretched an indiscernible period of time. When she dropped her gaze, Aiden sat waiting, as though he’d been studying her face the whole time instead of the birds.

He reached for both hands. She wanted to resist, but he tugged and began rubbing them between his own. The motion calmed her chaotic nerves. “How did you rise above that? You seem healthy, now.”

“Have I risen above it? Whatever change occurred in my life, I attribute to supernatural strength. And for the record, I don’t feel strong at all.”

“What do you mean?” Aiden asked.

“I’m not proud of what I’ve done in my life. But I can say I’m no longer ashamed, because God loves me no matter what I’ve been or done.”

Something in his eyes changed. His pupils enlarged, then went small as though he was refocusing. In a blink, the brown of Aiden’s eyes looked gray and stormy, resembling the bark of a winter tree.

With her blink came clarity.

Aiden commiserated.

She could tell he identified with the way she had felt. Beth gave him a small smile, and entwined their fingers. She continued, “I knew Barton was capable of killing me. Our fights were so violent, under the right circumstances, I could have killed him. After he went to jail, I came to rely on the numbing effect of tequila. And I ended up in rehab. At my lowest, most vulnerable point in life, God opened my eyes. I believe my hope for a better new life is based on my old life. I should view what’s happened in the past as shaping me into who I am today.”

Aiden gently placed her hands in her lap. He stood, stared off in the distance, and jingled the keys in his pocket. Bitterness put a bite to his words. “I’d like to know where God was the day of my mother’s funeral. The day we buried her, my heart was as bleak as the sky. I was mad at my father. He never shed a tear. He never hugged me or my sister. I realized later he was comforted by his research assistant. He expected me to buck up and deal while he stayed in his office on campus late into the night.”

When he paused, Aiden’s loneliness clung to the air between them.

She knew all about being lonely. Nothing but pain existed when a person viewed hope as elusive, with no one to turn to here on earth. Beth stepped to his side, reached out to him. They walked hand in hand back to the cabin. She was just about to mention the dart gun in his tent, when he spoke with a low voice.

“He ignored me except for praising my good grades so I wouldn’t embarrass him.” He went on as though there’d been no interruption. “My father didn’t know those grades were for me. I couldn’t wait to leave home.”

Beth took over. “You called me strong. I still long for a light close by when I sleep. It gets really dark with so many trees around here. Every day I fight the fear of getting hurt.”

“Oh, yeah. The invisible bogeyman, or the monster pictured under the bed.” He used the words she had thought. “I had nightmares for a long time, couldn’t stand how dark it was for my mom in the ground.”

“I wish I’d been a Christian when I was young. Only the Lord can ease our fears, and I’m nowhere close to where I need to be when it comes to not being afraid.”

“Where do you think you’d be, or maybe I should say, what kind of person do you think you’d be if it weren’t for the abuse?”

“I’ve never dared go there in my imagination, Aiden. I came clean with you, but I don’t like to look back and think ‘what-if?’ kinds of details. I believe at some point a person has to face the past in order to put it in perspective, to live for a healthy future.”

They came to a stop at the corner of the cabin, where she sat on the edge of the porch, stretching her legs out in front. “I can barely remember being a little girl. There was a tree house...”

She let her voice trail, scanned the clearing around the cabin. If it was her place, she’d build a tree house here and revisit that little-girl longing. And invite Grace to play. “In order to have peace, you’ll have to make things up with your dad.”

“Eh. That’s not gonna happen. Right now, I haven’t a clue what life would be like, being pals with my father. Maybe I’d talk to him on a different level than I do now, rather than have all the garbage standing between us.” He played with the change in his pocket. “I can’t believe I’m baring my soul with you.”

She shrugged. “I think we’d both be different people, had we grown up under different circumstances. Who knows, you’d probably be working with wolves, and I’d still be married to my first husband. Eric is as decent as they come. But that obviously wasn’t God’s plan.”

Aiden released her hand and slanted his position so they faced one another. “All those last names. I told you I looked up Littlefield. Moselle’s name is Todd, now. So your friend married your ex-husband?”

“You guessed it. I wronged Moselle and Eric. They were my friends.”

Aiden picked up a stick and traced worm tracks in the mud. He motioned for her to continue and waited her out without speaking.

He was so quiet Beth fought the urge to leap to her feet and run off. “I’m ready to make the future as good as it can be. I’m still working on finding worth in the way Jesus sees me, rather than how worthless I felt at the hands of Barton Littlefield.” She blew a gust of air at the ground, and brought her focus back to his face. “I’ve got a long way to go. What about you? If you could change the past, what would it be?”

“My mother would still be alive. My father would have never gone to Alaska to live with wolves. And I would have never been left to deal with situations I needed parental guidance to handle.”

Beth asked, “You said you were a young teen when you lost your mom?”

“Thirteen. I’ve tried to detach my feelings, but this is a vivid memory. And to look at the grave and all the people standing there in the pouring rain as though it were a scene in a movie. It’s dark, so dark. The sky, the umbrellas, the black clothes. The hole in the ground.” He fisted his hands at his sides. Tension tightened his face. “All I wanted to do was pound something. Anything.”

Lord, please reach out to him, and heal Aiden’s pain.

He went far away, by the distant look on his face. She could picture the teenager. “My heart and life were broken in two. I wanted my mother around the day I graduated. I wanted to look up to my dad, have him stand by me. And, the bad things that happened to me in high school should have been someone else’s nightmare.”

She turned her gaze skyward and tracked the path of a dozen Canadian geese flying overhead. “Back in high school, we lived for ourselves and what others thought of us. I’m sorry you felt neglected by your father. High school kids are on the brink of adulthood, but teens live for, or against, what others think of them. The bottom line now, compared to what happened then to either one of us, doesn’t matter!”

Aiden sucked in air through his teeth and drew back.

“What does matter is the pain and suffering that Jesus went through, for you and for me.”

“It’s all fine and good that you can turn to your Jesus. But where was Jesus, or God for that matter, when I needed someone to come to my rescue?”

Bitterness and resentment must have a chokehold on him. Every facial feature turned stony. He sounded more Minnesotan than Beth had ever heard, but in a hard way, rather than humorous.

“I know all about anger. And I’ve come to realize that most guys have relationship issues with their fathers.” He was as stiff as the porch boards, but she faced him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and clung.

When she felt him hug her back, she said, “We are all imperfect. I’m sure your dad didn’t know how to reach out to you. I’m also sure that our heavenly Father never leaves us. The Bible even says He’s a Father to the fatherless.”

She felt him swallow. He released his hold and she turned to step onto the cabin porch. Beth loaded her arms with firewood and cried out, Lord, please reach Aiden. He needs You.

He rammed his hand in his pocket, and resumed rattling the change. “I needed my father. He wasn’t there when something happened that I’ve never talked about. I won’t talk about it, now. Except he’s the reason I refused to do any job as an adult similar to my dad’s.”

“Such as specializing in fish and wildlife instead of furbearing, because he was a wolf biologist?”

“At least I don’t need a tranq gun to move turtles or fish. Speaking of which, I need to have that gun on me, or we’ll never see the wolf to safety. Catch you later.”

She watched him trudge off until the trees swallowed him.

So Aiden has secrets like the rest of the world.