| |
Saturday morning, Drew jogged toward his Jeep eager to explore his childhood haunts.
After several nights at home surrounded by memories and stuffed with his favorite meals cooked by his overly-happy mother, he felt fully rested. Especially since he’d finally opened up to reveal his struggles after learning of Brian’s death.
The nagging sense of guilt, his gratitude for being put on a different path, and the unusual events of the past week were all discussed alongside his conflicted emotions over the decision to re-enlist or not.
In response, Mom’s clear pride in his years of military service and her willingness to pray for his future had made her feel more like a partner and friend than a parent. It was a strangely comforting shift in their relationship.
Yesterday’s difficult visit with Brian’s mom had also brought a closure of sorts, but did nothing to dim his desire to make a difference for others.
Like providing medical care to an injured boy. And being a true friend to a traumatized veteran and connecting Steve to a place of healing in nature. He could only pray that time in nature at a wounded warrior camp would aid the healing process.
Drew climbed into the driver’s seat and glanced around the familiar property he’d called home. Over the past few days, he’d poured his still-churning emotions into several projects that had been put off long enough. With only one mouth to feed, his widowed mother had been able to make ends meet with her secretarial job instead of also needing to moonlight as a waitress—as she had during his school years. But there wasn’t an abundance of cash for repairs or upgrades.
Drew couldn’t bear for the place to fall into disrepair since he’d always imagined returning here after his discharge.
Whenever that was.
Although, it might be sooner than he’d dreamed.
As he executed a three-point turn out of their driveway, he caught glimpses of the riverfront bench he’d built and recalled Mom’s plans to surround it with flowerbeds. Despite the snow still on the ground beneath the trees, he could only imagine what how appealing their land would look like in a few months.
It almost reminded him of the castle grounds and those picturesque spots scattered around for times of personal reflection.
Of course, thoughts of the castle reminded him of his cute tour guide...and Mom’s insatiable curiosity. Somehow in the middle of his pictures and stories, he’d promised Mom that he would take her to a tea after all.
But maybe he could just make the arrangements and turn her loose on Grace instead?
Did that feel too much like “meet the family” too soon in whatever was—or could potentially—develop between them?
Regardless, he’d texted Grace last night with an update on how his mother was clamoring for a castle stay soon because his pictures had only whetted her appetite.
Her quick and welcome response had left him falling asleep with a smile on his face.
And wondering why he’d ever think of adding distance between them before they had a chance.
Drew pulled out onto the gravel road leading to the small town of Pine Ridge.
This morning over breakfast, Mom had mentioned their neighbor along the back of their property on the other side of the river and the rumors he might be selling his ranch. Which had him especially eager to hike to the scenic overlook one last time.
Except to get to Mr. Thomas’ property this time of year, he’d have to drive the long way around to the bridge and then backtrack to reach the ranch’s main entrance.
But the drive wasn’t wasted as Drew absorbed the familiar atmosphere of his hometown and how little things had changed. The gas station with its service bays stood across the convenience store and its well-stocked grocery shelves for the locals. Further along was the small post office, fire station, and elementary school plus a few office buildings including the one where his mother worked for two brothers who provided Pine Ridge’s need for a lawyer and an accountant. Nearer to downtown lay a Victorian-style B&B, a diner and coffee shop, a small hotel, and several stores providing outdoors gear and advertising hunting, fishing, or rafting expeditions.
However, it seemed the old town now had also acquired a few kitschy antique and craft stores too as if hoping to offer a little something for the women to do while their men went on adventures.
It seemed more tourists were finding their little enclave and staying instead of passing through to the more well-known Fairplay and South Park region.
Between the natural scenery of the South Platte River canyon and the multiple opportunities for adventure, Pine Ridge could be a haven of healing in the heart of the Rocky Mountains.
I look to the mountains. Where does my help come from?
The paraphrased memory of Psalm 121 made him even more eager to hike Mr. Thomas’ mountain and soak in the reminder of God’s lavish love through the glory of His creation.
Having passed the heart of town, Drew crossed the bridge and headed back up the valley.
A mile later, he passed the dirt road leading to a string of vacation cabins. Where one random encounter had changed everything.
His resulting choices had set him on the right path with zero regrets. After all, what if he hadn’t changed? It could have been his aimless self in a casket being mourned by a single mother.
All because of a brave girl.
In the mere minutes before the fire trucks had arrived and the paramedics had whisked the survivors away, he’d gathered—and later rehearsed—vague recollections of a teenager with reddish hair trapped with a flaming beam across her shoulders and a younger blonde shielded in her arms.
A niggle of memory had him easing his foot off the accelerator.
He’d recently met another red-haired female with burn scars on that region of her body. A woman who loved spending Spring Break in the mountains. Who had lost her parents in a fire as a teen. Who told the story of someone pulling “us” from the flames.
What were the odds she was the same girl?
Then he remembered Grace’s admission she’d had a crush on her rescuer...
The giant bubble of awareness and attraction and disbelief nearly burst in his chest.
God, are You up to something?
Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get back to Colorado Springs. To invite her for coffee so he could ask a few more pointed questions.
On the heels of their potential reunion, he wondered if he should try to stay in the Colorado Springs area after all in order to spend more time with her. However, even if he decided to re-enlist to make it possible, there was no guarantee the Air Force wouldn’t then move him anywhere else around the world.
As intriguing as Grace was, a barely-started relationship—no matter how much he wanted to see what might develop—was not a good enough reason to make such a life-impacting decision.
Still filled with unanswered questions, Drew crossed the cattle-guard under the rustic arch advertising the border of the Thomas ranch. He slowly wound along the gravel drive through a grassy valley dotted with a pond and a pasture of grazing cattle toward the complex containing the two-story main house, long bunkhouse, and towering barn complete with a few horses inside the wood-railed corrals.
As he parked beside the main house, he noticed a few smaller cabins hidden along the tree line. Those were new.
Drew opened the Jeep’s door at the same time a heavy-set man exited the main house. By the time his hiking boots hit the ground, the gray-haired Mr. Thomas stood on the porch waiting. Watching.
“Hi, Mr. Thomas. I’m Drew Miller, from across the river.” He waved a hand toward the rocky ridge that separated the valley from the river...and his childhood home.
“Ah.” A smile split the man’s wrinkled face and he started descending the steps. “I remember you. You and your buddy spent hours tramping trails up and down my mountain, but you’re grown now so call me Evan.” His expression sobered. “I was sorry to hear about his passing.”
“I was too even though we’d lost touch over the years.” Drew swallowed hard. “I felt a little guilty for getting out of here when he didn’t.”
The man shook his head. “Don’t do that. He made his own choices and it had nothing to do with our small town. God places opportunities around all of us. It’s the prospect of hard work that turns some people off the straight and narrow.”
Drew nodded. He’d once heard the saying that the hard way led to the best views, but Brian—and many others he’d known before his Air Force training—opted for easy street.
Evan tilted his head. “How’s the military treating you?”
Right. He had been one of the speakers at the high school’s career day sharing about his army days as well as running the ranch that had been in his family for years.
“Can’t complain about the chance to use those wilderness survival skills I learned right here...” He paused as an aging blue heeler loped around the end of the barn and came to a stop beside them.
The equally aged man scratched behind the dog’s ears. “Seen any action?”
“No. While some of our SERE training got extreme, especially the Arctic rotation and the parachute training, I didn’t see any combat.” Drew shrugged. “I sometime feel a bit guilty, especially when I talk to a friend struggling with the aftermath of an IED or gunfight.” Although he still didn’t know which Steve had faced.
“Have a few of those memories myself.” The haunted look in the man’s eyes hinted at a reason he might have never married or had children. “But hard work and nature help.”
Drew extended a hand to encompass their surroundings. “One of my buddies will be heading to a spot like this for some outdoors PTSD therapy soon. I pray it helps.”
After a solemn moment of solidarity, Evan visibly shook off his memories. “Sorry for talking your ear off. What brings you by here? Something specific or are you hoping for permission to trespass?” The man winked as if remembering the first time Drew had forded the river behind his home...and been caught.
Drew smiled. “If it’s okay with you, I’d love to hike to the overlook again while I have the chance. Especially since I hear you might be selling.”
Even if he’d love to own mountain land in the future, the asking price for this particular acreage would be beyond anything he could afford, despite his savings. Not to mention, he knew nothing about ranching and had no clue how to make the land turn a profit.
Evan chuckled, then shook his head. “I see the rumors are alive and well, but as usual aren’t quite true. I’m mostly exploring new ways to earn a little extra cash flow as I get older.”
Just like Drew had been thinking, making the property pay for itself might be a challenge.
The rancher jutted his chin toward the cabins Drew had noticed earlier. “I built those for some of my ranch hands back when I had a larger herd, but then after I downsized and John got married, I’ve tried renting them as an Air B&B without the B. Mostly to hunters but that’s seasonal.” He shrugged. “Been thinking about turning this place into a dude ranch but I’d need some hired help to run it.”
Drew eyed the property with fresh eyes after his time at Glen Eyrie. “If you added a few more cabins or turned the bunkhouse into a dorm building, you could make this a summer camp. Maybe for veterans. Or youth groups. Or even school groups with an outdoor education focus.”
“Hmm. I like the idea of helping vets.” The man scratched his chin, then nodded. “If you’ve got time for a cup of coffee, we could bounce more ideas around.”
Since his hike could wait, Drew followed the man and his dog inside the house and was soon settled around a wooden table cradling a hefty ceramic mug of the strong brew while Evan found a legal pad and working pen.
It might be too much work to create something from the ground up, but there were plenty of possible organizations who might be interested in renting Evan’s facilities.
Before long, Evan scribbled notes while Drew brainstormed a list of possible visitors including those previously mentioned as well as large companies who often scheduled team-building retreats.
Drew’s excitement grew. “If you’re thinking of groups who’d bring their own staff like a wounded warrior recovery organization, there are also medical camps. A friend of mine attended a camp for kids who’d survived burns. Then there are kids with cancer and their families.”
Evan tapped his pen on the paper. “I heard of a Christian camp for foster kids to give them a taste of normal while showering them with love and attention. But there’s also a need for the families of first responders who lost their loved ones in action.” He scribbled down a few more ideas. “Lots of folks out there could use time away in nature while enjoying a few activities.”
“Activities like...” Drew thought of what the property already had to offer. Or what might be easy to add. “Horseback riding. River rafting or kayaking. Hiking. Rock climbing or rappelling on your cliff face.”
“Hold on a second.” Evan turned the page and kept scribbling. “I could stock a few more fish in the pond if I shored up the existing dock.”
“A zip line, obstacle course, or ropes course in the trees would also be relatively easy to build.”
Evan’s attention shifted to the housing. “The bunkhouse already has bathrooms plus a kitchen and dining room. And the cabins would only need a few minor repairs.” He added items to his growing list for another few minutes while Drew drained the rest of his coffee.
At last, the man dropped his pen and leaned back with a smile. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. More than making some money, it would be good to see this land actually help someone. But I’ve taken up enough of your time when I know you’re itching to tackle that mountain again.”
Drew grinned as he stood. “True. Thanks for the coffee.”
After saying his goodbyes, Drew headed back to his Jeep to retrieve his backpack energized by the caffeine boost...and the brainstorming.
Was it wrong to be jealous of the possibilities?
He almost wished his mom’s land was larger. Or that he had more savings to invest.
Or that he was brave enough to ask Evan if he would consider hiring Drew to help.
Then again, maybe Drew should ask at the fire station in town to see if they needed another trained EMT. If so, he could always return to Pine Ridge and volunteer from time to time at the Thomas ranch.
Drew strode down the familiar trail toward the river’s overlook, but could not escape the nagging thought that while the new opportunities he considered were both exciting and purposeful, they’d take him miles away from the attractive and interesting woman he’d just met.
Miles away from Grace.
It was too soon to tell, but why did he already feel he was about to lose the best thing to come along in years? Or—if she was his life-altering inspiration from eight years ago—was there a different reason God had brought them back together?
God, I need Your wisdom even more than before...
###
~LAKE DISTRICT, REGENCY era
“He will know the difference. It might have been ten years but there are things only we know about our time together.” Susannah glared over her stepmother’s shoulder at the would-be sister who had joined them. “You did not grow up in our valley and only lived at Dalegarth Hall a few months. He will know you are an impostor.”
Doubt flashed in Susan’s eyes before she glanced at her mother.
Lady Stanley only sneered. “How? You have grown and changed since I met you. And by your own admission, it has been even longer since he laid eyes on you. Any lapses of memory about past events can easily be excused by the passing of time.”
Doubt must be contagious. For while she bore the scar and treasured the remnants of fox fur, was it possible that he could have forgotten about her? No. His letter acknowledging their betrothal referenced the event that brought them together.
She almost blurted out the details of that memorable day, but bit her tongue. She could not give them ammunition in this war for her freedom.
Her stepmother must have taken her temporary silence as a sign for she smiled. “Of course, as your dear mama, I will be right there beside you to show proper outrage that my own flesh and blood would try to impersonate my late husband’s child.” She fluttered her eyelashes as if innocent of subterfuge.
A chill ran down Susannah’s spine. The woman could be charming when she wished and a lesser man might believe her facade.
“Do not defy me or I will have you committed to an asylum before the week is done.”
Icy cold tentacles of fear squeezed her chest.
Dear God, help me...
No. She had to believe that Nicholas was not a lesser man.
If he did not immediately spot the differences himself, she would simply bring up a mention of the Dalegarth waterfall in casual conversation and see where that led.
“I am sure you will make the right choice.” The dreadful woman smiled as if nothing were amiss, then gestured toward the back of the house. “Once you have completed your regular chores, please be sure we have fresh tea cakes to serve to our illustrious guest.”
Susannah retreated to inventory the kitchen while relieved that the drawing room had been cleaned just that morning. Susan could see to her own clothing. In the meantime, her mind spun with possible questions that could reveal the truth once Nicholas was in their midst.
But come dawn as she was dressing for the day, she heard a rustle outside her door and a metallic click.
No. It couldn’t be.
She rushed over but the door was locked from the outside.
She rattled the knob, then yanked on the door. “Let me out! You can’t do this.”
A low chuckle came from the other side. “I am so sorry that you aren’t feeling well. Perhaps you should stay in your room and rest today...”
“No!” Her voice cracked. “You cannot keep me in here.”
The woman snorted. “It will be a hardship to be without your services, but under the circumstances, I have no other choice.” The sound of footsteps retreated in the hall outside.
Susannah continued to pound on the door and shouted loudly for help. Perhaps the others in the household would hear her and have mercy.
By midday, with bruised hands and an aching throat, it was clear no one would be coming to her rescue.
She sank to the floor and leaned against the door. Her stomach cramped with hunger and she had already resorted to drinking the little water in the pitcher at her washstand to replace her tears.
Oh God, why? First my mother and brother. Then Nicholas, my new friend and rescuer, was gone and impressed. My father...
Suddenly she recalled the image of her father’s broken body lying in the rain on the very trail where Nicholas had safely cradled her home to cozy Dalegarth Hall.
Another sob shook her shoulders.
She had lost her family, inheritance, and identity. And now, a future with her hero was slipping through her fingers and there was nothing she could do about it.
###
WHY HAD SHE THOUGHT reading a new book would distract her from the nerves about her impending interview?
Like the heroine in the latest story, Grace had already lost her home and family. Lived off charity and was pressured to pursue a career she didn’t enjoy. Feared her scars would rob her of a romance and the love of a godly man.
No. Despite her past insecurities, she had to stay positive about her budding relationship with Drew.
Then again, he should have been back in Colorado Springs for several days by now and other than that single text exchange about his mother’s wishes for tea, he hadn’t contacted her. Yet.
The fire had stolen enough but with the new confidence she’d found during her time at Glen Eyrie, she refused to let it take her future.
Now, if only she knew whether that path contained a teaching job or not. But with just a week and a half left in Glen Eyrie—and Colorado Springs—she was running out of time.
She blew out a breath.
Look at her, getting ahead of herself.
Grace rolled her eyes, checked the time, then got out of her compact car.
Once inside the school, she easily found the office and checked in with the secretary. A woman whose eyes strayed too blatantly to the scars on Grace’s neck, not once but multiple times as Grace waited for her appointment.
She fought not to squirm under the scrutiny but could only be relieved when she was finally called back to the conference room.
The principal greeted her at the door, then waved her toward the only empty seat at the large table before introducing the rest of the interview committee. A mixture of teachers, parents, and students occupied the remainder of the chairs. All had small stacks of papers in front of them, but only a few glanced at the details of her resume as the questions began.
“Miss Thompson, tell us why you chose history as a subject.”
Thirty excruciating minutes later, the principal wrapped up the interview. “Thank you for your time, Miss Thompson. We have a few more interviews today then will check the references for our top candidates.” With an expression that gave nothing away, he gestured toward the door as if dismissing her. “We should have our decision by the weekend.”
Grace stood on shaky legs and forced a smile. “Thank you for your time.”
Ignoring the curiosity of the few students in the office when she returned her visitor’s badge, she made her escape from the building. But could not shake the unsettled feeling churning in her gut.
She did not want the sympathy vote from those who had stared at her scars and then pointedly asked about her injuries. And definitely did not want the connection string-pulling implied when the principal had mentioned talking to Uncle John.
She wanted a job based on her own qualifications.
A job that excited her instead of bored her.
And while the advertised position was in the history department, teaching geography to freshmen was a far cry from the story-rich topic of American history that captured her imagination.
If she was hired and could put in the time, she might eventually work her way up to her first choice of subject.
If.
Might.
She got into her car and pulled the door shut with more force than necessary.
God, I’ll do it if You want me to. But why can’t I do what I love instead?
An image of the yellowed documents at the historical society flitted across her mind.
While turning her phone’s ringer back on, she caught sight of the time and her shoulders slumped. There was no time left today to indulge her latest addiction.
As she slipped her key into the ignition, her phone chimed as a text message arrived.
Of course. Uncle John would be wanting a report about her interview. Better to get it out of the way.
Except a glance at the screen revealed it was a text from Drew. She sucked in a quick breath as she swiped to read the full message.
Meant to ask several days ago but a colleague was sick for a few days and time got away from me. Are you free for coffee tomorrow morning?
Her smile grew and her fingers flew. YES. After a quick send, she held her breath as she waited for the reply.
That was fast. Followed by a smiling emoji.
She groaned. Way to give away her amateur status when it came to the dating game. Would it turn him off?
Another message came through a few seconds later. I assume you have to give a tour at noon, so does ten o’clock at the bookstore work for you?
She typed quickly, then—unlike before—waited before hitting send. I do and it does.
Then she remembered her manners. How was your trip home?
Interesting in many ways. Lots to talk about.
She settled back in the seat with the sun warming her through the window. Looking forward to hearing more.
What’s new with you? Any more injured guests or fancy hats or hikes without me?
None of the above. Just some historical research. And a job interview.
For a job that suddenly seemed more enticing knowing this man lived in the same town...
Can’t wait to hear all about it. Another smiling emoji punctuated his reply.
She felt giddy with her rising hope.
With Drew in her life, let the others stare. She was going to write her own story now.