Surviving the Wilderness, page 3
“I’m sorry,” Jeff said. “But they were planning on sending the two of us alone up north to lead a very challenging trip and I was afraid the tensions between us added an unnecessary risk.”
What tensions between them? She was a hundred percent certain Jeff had had no clue about the fledgling crush she’d had on him. And she’d never been anything but a very capable professional.
“There were no tensions between us.” She waved at the space in between them for emphasis. Then circled her hand in the air as if painting an invisible circle around his face. “All the tension was radiating off you.”
“Okay.” He raised a hand palm up as if to deflect her words. “I’ll admit I was pretty grouchy back then and—”
“Grouchy?” she repeated. “Do you have any idea how downright intimidating it was for me to work with you? You were older, taller, physically stronger, and you’d served our country overseas. You seemed indestructible. I wanted to be a team. But it was like you were doggedly determined not to accept my help with anything. Instead you seemed devoted to criticizing every single thing I did, and never once gave me the benefit of the doubt.”
The words hung between them for a moment and she almost expected him to backtrack.
Instead he crossed his arms. “Maybe. To be completely honest, you’re not the first person to tell me I’m incapable of accepting help.”
He held her gaze for a long moment and somehow neither of them looked away. She felt something twist inside her chest.
“But sometimes it’s better to do things yourself than risk letting someone else put lives in danger,” he added. “And right now, all that matters is making sure we get to the bottom of everything that’s happened today. So, I’d like to drive you back to your camp and talk to your campers to see if they know anything about either the prowler or your accident.”
Like she wanted him anywhere near her campsite and campers after what he’d just admitted.
She closed her eyes and prayed. Lord, I need Your wisdom and Your grace, because right now all I feel is frustrated, worried and angry.
“Coffee’s ready!” Vic called. She opened her eyes. Jeff’s brother was standing in the kitchen doorway. “What do you take in yours, Quinn?”
“Milk, please,” Quinn said. “Maple syrup too if you have it.”
Vic’s grin widened. “Amber or dark?”
“Dark,” Quinn said. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Vic said. “Your boots have gotta be soaked, but I have a pair of my wife’s old ones you can wear until they dry.”
“Thank you,” she said again. “Jeff told me about her. I’m really sorry for your loss.”
His smile both deepened and grew sadder.
“Thank you,” Vic said. “It’ll be a year next month. We had ten years together as best friends—eight of them as husband and wife. I’d rather have had that time with her than a whole lifetime with anyone else.”
A lump formed in Quinn’s throat and before she could clear it enough to speak, Vic disappeared into the kitchen, leaving her alone again. She wondered what it was like to love someone like that.
A buzzer went off. It sounded like a large and angry mosquito trapped in a metal box.
“That’ll be the dryer,” Jeff said. He stood awkwardly and shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Sometimes it needs an extra few minutes. I’ll be back in a moment.”
He disappeared through the doorway. Quinn walked over to the rope on the floor, crouched and slowly ran it between her fingers. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. No knicks, cuts or signs of foul play.
She closed her eyes again and prayed. Help me see what I need to see.
The rope tugged out of her hands as Quinn heard a fierce but tiny growl. She peaked around the corner. A golden retriever puppy, of no more than five months old, was playfully nipping at her climbing rope. She smiled slightly and flicked it. The dog jumped back, barked and wagged its tail, as if expecting the rope to bite him back. Quinn giggled.
“Tha’ my dog,” a small voice said proudly from behind her.
Quinn turned. A little girl, about three years old, was standing behind her in yellow pajamas with butterflies on them. Golden hair trailed in long, loose curls down her back.
“Hi,” she said. “My name’s Quinn. With a Q. You must be Addison.”
“Hello.” Bright blue eyes regarded her seriously.
“You have a very good dog,” Quinn said.
“No!” the girl said brightly. “Bu’er’scotch is naugh’y dog.”
“A naughty dog?” Quinn asked. Butterscotch was now rolling on his back, underneath the rope, apparently having lost his imaginary battle.
“Yes.” She nodded vigorously. “He’s a t’ief!”
“A thief?” Quinn asked, widening her eyes.
“Uh-huh.” The girl threw her arms around the puppy. Butterscotch dropped the rope, and licked her on the nose. “He steal Daddy socks!”
Quinn tossed her head back and laughed. She sat cross-legged beside them on the floor.
Addison scooted over to Quinn and the dog commando-crawled after her. “You got a dog?”
“No,” Quinn said, “but my big sister Leia has a cat named Moses.”
The little girl tilted her head to the side as if trying to figure out whether a cat was worth talking about. Then her smile widened. “I saw a bunny!”
“You did?” Quinn asked. “Where?”
“Ou’side!”
Quinn leaned on her elbows, feeling the fire warm her back and listened as the little girl launched into a long and enthusiastic story about a rabbit she’d seen in the woods. Something in Quinn’s heart ached for her. She hadn’t been much older when her own mother had died and, like her, she’d grown up in the remote Canadian wilderness. Only, she’d had two older sisters and one younger one, and while her father had been suspicious of the outside world, they hadn’t been that far from the closest town.
Quinn prayed God would surround Addison with happiness, love, and people who’d be family to her.
A footstep creaked the floor. She looked over. Vic was back with a red travel mug.
“I see you’ve met Addison,” he said.
“I did,” Quinn said. “She was telling me about how Butterscotch steals your socks.”
“Not my socks,” Vic said with a grin. “The little brat only goes after Jeff’s.” He set the coffee down and looked at Addison. “Isn’t that right, Sunshine?”
The little girl nodded, sending her curls flying. “Bu’er’scotch only eat Daddy socks! Uncle Vic socks too yucky!”
Quinn rose slowly. This little bundle of happiness was Jeff’s daughter?
Jeff was a father and he’d never told her?
THREE
Even slightly damp, Quinn’s sweatshirt still smelled like her. Jeff held it to his chest for a long moment, as if it were a life jacket that would keep his sinking heart from drowning. Then he tossed it back in the dryer, set the timer for another few minutes, and waited while it spun. When he finally gathered up her clothes and walked into the kitchen, Vic was standing by the sink.
“I have to leave shortly for a meeting with my commanding officer about my next deployment,” Vic said. “He’s up in this area from Ottawa and we agreed to meet in Kilpatrick.” Jeff nodded and kept walking through the kitchen. “As you know, I’ve decided to enter the Canadian Armed Forces’ training program to become an emergency medical surgeon. I start in five weeks.”
Jeff stopped and turned around. “Could we talk about that later?”
“We could,” Vic said. “Unless you’re just going to keep avoiding having a real conversation until after I pack my bags and leave.”
Jeff winced. Vic took a slow sip of his coffee.
“I don’t like the idea of leaving you here all alone with Addison when I go on deployment,” Vic went on, “especially after what happened today. I know you had a bad experience with that day care you tried enrolling her in. But you need to think through what’s going to happen when she starts school and who’s going to take care of her when you’re on deployment.”
The day care program had been in a small town over an hour away, and he’d only enrolled Addison because Vic had encouraged him, telling him that Addison needed to socialize with kids her own age. Jeff was pretty sure Vic had also been secretly hoping he’d use the time to meet people, make friends, get involved in a church, sports team or club, and maybe even get that grief counseling he kept pushing for.
Addison had loved it.
But something about her favorite teacher, Kelsey, had rubbed Jeff the wrong way. Kelsey’s father had served in the military and, sadly, had died of a heart attack a few years back while on his daily jog around the base. So now she and her deadbeat brother were living with their uncle—who also happened to be Vic’s pastor. She’d seemed all together too interested in Addison and getting close to his little girl.
Jeff blew out a hard breath and realized he’d hugged the laundry closer. Unless a major emergency hit the country and he was called up for service, he wasn’t scheduled to be deployed for a few months yet. He’d have something figured out by then.
“I appreciate you looking out for me,” Jeff said. “But in case you missed it, there’s a bunch of way more important stuff going on all around us today. Your timing for all this couldn’t be worse.”
Plus, he’d already gotten one indictment on his stubbornness and inability to accept help today. He hardly needed another one.
“You’ve hidden yourself away from the world for over a year,” Vic said, “and now someone you used to work with has just randomly showed up on your doorstep. Maybe she’s here for a reason. Even if it’s just for you to finally have a chat with someone who isn’t your brother.”
That would mean knowing how to even start the conversation. Jeff turned and started for the living room, only to then stop dead in the doorway as he caught sight of the scene unfolding in front of him. Quinn sat cross-legged on the floor with Butterscotch curled up beside her on one side and his daughter Addison on the other. Addison had leaned her head against Quinn’s shoulder. Their voices rose and, like music, Addison’s happy chattering formed the melody and Quinn’s caring responses the harmony. Then Quinn looked up and met his eyes, and his chest grew even tighter.
“Daddy!” Addison leaped to her feet and ran over to Jeff. “I have a new friend!”
She pointed dramatically at Quinn.
“I see.” Jeff dropped Quinn’s clothes on the couch, swept his daughter up into his arms and held her close.
“Your daughter is absolutely amazing,” Quinn said. “We’ve been having a wonderful time.” The sweetness of Quinn’s voice didn’t keep him from noticing the questions in her eyes. “I didn’t know you had a child.”
“It’s not something I find easy to talk about,” Jeff admitted.
“I got your clothes,” he added, nodding to the obvious pile he’d just deposited in front of her. “I’ll take Addison to get changed then, when you’re ready, we can get you back to camp.”
“Come too?” Addison asked hopefully.
“Absolutely,” he said.
“Bu’er’scotch come too?”
“Sure,” he agreed. He was already planning to drop by the top of the waterfall on the way, and the puppy could use a walk.
“Giant Dolly too?” Addison pressed.
“No.” He laughed and turned to Quinn. “Giant Dolly is a two-and-a-half-foot-tall rag doll that’s almost the same size she is. Addison can’t sleep without her.” He looked back at his daughter. “But you can bring your pink-and-blue puppy backpack and your walkie-talkie, okay?”
Addison’s brows knit, as if debating whether this was a reasonable comprise, before she nodded. He took her upstairs to get dressed and came back to find Quinn dressed in her own clothes and Vic’s wife’s hiking boots.
They walked first to the waterfall with Addison on his shoulders but didn’t find so much as a suspicious rock or twig out of place.
Then they drove to the campgrounds, through a combination of winding dirt tracks and off-road driving, until he saw the peaks of tents rising through the trees. He rolled down the window and smelled the aroma of sizzling bacon and eggs. Before he’d even stopped the truck, he saw a blond woman running toward them. She was a couple of inches shorter than Quinn and her build was curvy where Quinn’s was lithe, but even in a glance it was unmistakable she and Quinn were sisters.
“Hey, thanks for helping hold down the fort,” Quinn called and leaped out the door. “Jeff, this is my little sister Rose. Rose, this is Jeff.”
“You’re with the Canadian Rangers, right?” Rose asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Rose glanced to the sky and whispered, “Thank You, Lord,” and Jeff realized that she was thanking God for him.
Rose turned to Quinn and he saw the waves of worry filling her eyes. “We’ve got a problem. Bruno’s missing.”
* * *
“What do you mean he’s missing?” Quinn felt her voice rise. She ran around to the other side of the vehicle to join her sister. “Last I saw him, it was about ten at night. He was by the fire. I reminded him that I’d be going for a climb first thing in the morning but would be back by breakfast. He said, ‘Good for you,’ clapped me on the back and wished me good-night. Then he went into his tent.”
“I just assumed he was still sleeping in until I just checked his tent and found him gone,” Rose said. “I’ve asked around and nobody’s seen him since last night.”
Jeff got out of the truck. “I take it he wasn’t sharing a tent with anyone?” he asked.
“No,” Quinn said. “He was the odd man out and everyone else had a tent buddy. I was sharing with Rose.”
“What’s the current mood at the camp like?” Jeff asked.
“A bit tense,” Rose said, “but not too tense.”
“Anyone seem too calm and relaxed?” he prompted.
She crinkled her nose. “I don’t know. People are still waking up and most just seem sleepy.”
Jeff opened the back door and lifted Addison out of her car seat. The puppy half leaped and half tumbled out onto the ground after her. He set his daughter down and helped her put on a small backpack covered with pink and blue dogs Quinn vaguely knew were on a popular children’s television show.
“And are all other campers accounted for?” Quinn asked.
“Yup,” Rose said. “When I realized Bruno was missing, I did a complete head count.”
“Thank you,” Quinn said.
“No problem.” Rose crouched down to Addison’s eye level and stuck out her hand. “Hi, my name’s Rose and I’m Quinn’s little sister.”
Quinn’s eyes met Jeff’s and she was able to read the tempest of questions brewing in their blue depths before he even asked.
“Is it possible that Bruno caused your fall and tried to break into my house?” Jeff asked.
“Practically speaking, yes it’s possible,” she said. “He definitely had enough time and the physical ability to yank my rope free and then run to your cabin. But I can’t believe he would either break into your home or risk my life like that.”
“You know he drinks sometimes,” Jeff said.
“Yeah, and I can totally see him sneaking off for a predawn sip of vodka from that flask of his and falling in the river. But not this.”
She felt Addison’s small hand take hers and squeeze. She looked down to see the girl looking up at her. “I hungry.”
“I did actually try to get her to eat something before we left,” Jeff said apologetically. “But she never likes to eat until she’s been up awhile.”
“Well, it’s a good thing Rose has got eggs, toast and sausage cooking,” Quinn said brightly.
Addison glanced at Rose. “Dogs like sausage.”
Rose laughed. “Well then, let’s all go get some.”
She stretched out her hand to Addison, who took it without letting go of Quinn’s on her other side. Then they walked toward the tents, Jeff beside Quinn and Butterscotch trailing after them.
Rock towered high and sheer on both sides of the river, creating a deep channel of rapidly flowing water. But there was a small and sandy cove nestled between two jutting cliffs, where Quinn’s group had grounded their canoes before hiking up into a clearing in the trees to pitch their tents.
People clustered in ones and twos between the tents and fire pit. Several waved and called “good morning” in her direction. She smiled and called back greetings in response. But no one seemed in a hurry to saunter her way. Then again, the sun had barely risen less than an hour ago. The smell of campfire coffee and food mingled with the scent of damp earth and pine trees. Rose led Addison away to folding tables where a small portable grill sizzled. The little girl waved a small pink plastic clamshell at Jeff. He pulled a matching one from his pocket and waved it back.
“What are those?” Quinn asked.
“Walkie-talkies,” Jeff said. “Addison absolutely loves them and they’ve got an incredibly impressive range. That’s her way of reminding me she can call me if she needs to.”
He scanned her campers. There was something so intense about his gaze, she wondered what he was looking for.
“The muscular man sitting by the fire with the shaved head...” he said after a long moment. “Is he law enforcement?”
“Don?” she said. “No, he’s private security. Why?”
