Surviving the Wilderness, page 9
“Are you sure?” Jeff asked. He turned to face her and they stood there in the gloom of the tunnel, his face just inches from hers. “What if Della was absolutely right about me? What if I never should’ve taken the DNA test and then filed to get custody of Addison when I found out she was mine? What if I’m wrong to be out here looking for her and fighting to bring her back home? What if I’m never going to be good enough to be her father, Big Poppa is right, and she’s better off without me?”
EIGHT
Quinn’s heart jolted as suddenly and painfully, as if someone had literally sucker-punched her in the chest. She grabbed Jeff’s hands and held them tightly, not even stopping to notice they were still full of dirt.
“That’s not true,” she said. “Every word of that is a lie. Your daughter adores you. I saw it in her face and I saw it in the way you look at her. And most of all, I know the kind of man you are.
“Any person in their right mind would be so incredibly blessed to have you in their life—as a father, a friend, a brother, a partner on the battlefield, and yes, even a husband. I’m sorry for everyone who ever said those horrible words to you and even sorrier that part of you keeps replaying and believing them.”
Her hands dropped his and slid up the sides of his face, not even stopping to think she might be leaving even more muddy streaks along the strong lines of his jaw. “Don’t believe the lies, Jeff. Please. I know who you are. God knows who you are. And you are worth so much more than that.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. She leaned against his chest, her fingers reached around his neck, and he felt his heart beating into hers.
“Love is supposed to make you feel better about yourself, right?” he asked after a long moment. “Stronger? Better? Like you can do more and be a better person, right? That’s what Vic says.”
I wouldn’t know, she thought. The only man I ever felt anything for was you. And that seed, or whatever it was, was never even planted let alone given the opportunity to grow.
Before she could even try to find words to say, he let her go and turned back to the wall that imprisoned them.
“Trying to care about someone the way I loved Della, when they don’t care about you, kills something inside of you,” Jeff said. He grabbed hold of a boulder twice the size of a pumpkin and tried to yank it out. It didn’t move. He stepped back and kicked at the edges of it, breaking through the dirt until he had enough space to get a better grip. “Whatever I felt for Della was toxic. It left me sick to my stomach. Like I was slowly poisoning myself.”
He dug his fingers around the huge bolder again. She reached out to help him pry it loose, but he waved her off. So she busied herself with scooping out some of the smaller rocks and dirt that surrounded it.
“I guess I should be thankful our relationship only lasted a few weeks,” he said. “We were never close. Never friends. And yet, when I found out she was pregnant, I scraped some money together, drove to the closest mall to the barracks and bought her an engagement ring. I told her I’d support her and raise her child. Thankfully, she refused to marry me. But she didn’t have to be so rude and nasty about it.”
Quinn’s arms ached to hug him again, just like she’d held him moments before. She wanted to embrace him, rest her head on his shoulder and stroke the silky brown hair at the back of his neck. Instead, she watched as he rammed his fingers even deeper into the small crevasses he’d made along the edges of the stubborn boulder and yanked. It budged. He rolled it slowly out of the way, one painstaking inch at a time. Dirt and rocks rained down in the space it had left behind.
“Della’s family held a memorial service for her almost a year after her death, because bringing her body home from overseas took time and her mom wanted to hold it during the summer and also give everyone who cared about her time to fly in for it,” he went on.
“You told me she was dead,” Quinn said. “But you’ve never told me how she died.”
“She died while serving overseas,” Jeff said. “I’m not ready to go into all the details of that. It’s a bit more than I can handle talking about right now.”
That was the second time he’d brushed her off when she’d asked him about his daughter’s mother’s death. Maybe that was one stone he wasn’t yet ready to turn over because he wasn’t sure he could handle what was hiding underneath.
“I was working with you at the time of her memorial,” he told her. “I’m not even sure why I went. I was lurking in the back of the church when her mother spotted me and practically made a beeline for me. She pulled me aside and told me the truth. That Addison was my daughter. She told me that Della had confessed she’d been seeing someone in the unit and that the timeline didn’t match up with the ultrasounds, but that Della had insisted Paul should think he was the father. She explained that Della’s estranged father had also been a military man, but a really bad guy. Charming, but manipulative and really controlling. She said I shouldn’t blame myself that Della had been attracted to me and pushed me away.”
He shoveled dirt with his hands.
“Della’s mom was amazing,” he said. “She’d been the one raising Addison and had always suspected the truth. Paul, on the other hand, was apoplectic. So overcome with anger, he couldn’t see straight. He tried to block the DNA test. When that failed, he tried to sue me. And when that didn’t work, he sent me email after email threatening to take Addison away from me. He even started this online blog drumming up sympathy. I was genuinely worried he’d show up one day and take Addison.”
“Is that why you moved up here and installed a security system at your cabin?” she asked.
He turned and smiled at her as if he’d almost forgotten she was there. “You know, I think that’s the longest I’ve ever heard you go without chiming in or asking a question.”
She snorted. “Well, if it’s any consolation,” she said, “I have plenty of words running around in my head right now but I don’t think hearing me pepper you with personal questions or scream about how you don’t deserve any of this will be particularly helpful.”
He chuckled too. It was a sad sound, but a hopeful one.
“For what it’s worth,” he revealed, “Vic thought Paul was all bark and no bite. But that pressing charges against him would be the kindest thing I could do. Because it would make him wake up, realize how out of control things had gotten and, hopefully, get him help for his pain. Vic is a nicer person than I am sometimes.”
“Why didn’t you press charges?” Quinn asked.
“Because I wanted to pretend the whole thing wasn’t happening and to hide until it went away,” he said. He reached up and grabbed a wide slab of rock by the ceiling. “Okay, I’m going to need a second pair of hands for this one. Can you get the other side?”
“No problem.”
She reached up on her tiptoes and took hold of the other side. They wriggled it free, going back and forth and taking turns pulling. Finally, it fell loose. Late-afternoon sunlight trickled through.
She turned to Jeff and saw the relief and joy bubbling up in her heart reflected there in his eyes.
“Well, Miss Quinn Dukes,” he said. “I think we’ve found ourselves a way out.” He kicked the huge boulder he’d done battle with back to the wall, stepped up on it and looked through the hole. “The rain has stopped, and the coast is clear.”
He reached his arms through and pulled himself out of the cave. A moment later, his face reappeared in the gap. He reached down, grabbed hold of her arms and helped pull her out and onto a huge pile of rock and rubble where the cave mouth had once been.
Quinn gasped a deep breath, thankful to feel fresh air fill her lungs. Prayers of thanksgiving surged through her and unexpected tears rushed to her eyes.
Jeff sent a quick message to Rose, then dialed Vic. When Vic didn’t answer, he left a message and put the phone back in his pocket.
“Thank you for saving me,” Jeff told Quinn. His voice was deep and husky with emotion.
She turned to him. “Are you kidding?” she asked. “You saved me!”
He swallowed hard, as if searching for words. Then he gave up and instead wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug.
“Sometimes the memories and the pain get the better of me,” he whispered into her hair. “It feels like it’s all too much. But when you’re there, it’s better. Plus, you listened to me without judging me. It helps to know I’m not alone.”
“You’re not alone,” she said.
She tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder. Her hands slid up the strength of his back. She felt his jaw brush against the top of her head. Warning bells sounded in the back of her mind. How many times would she find herself hugging this man before she found her heart trying to turn their relationship into something more than it was? They were two people who’d been thrown together in an emotional pressure cooker. They were both scared. Neither of them was thinking squarely. And she’d already gotten her feelings all tangled up in this man before and only ended up hurt. Yes, people who were close sometimes clung to each other in times like these, when pain, relief and fear all kept colliding into one. But not people who barely knew each other. Not people who were going to leave each other’s lives as soon as this was over.
Not people who she knew had no future together.
It wasn’t just because of all the stuff Jeff was wrestling with and the fact he needed to face it all and begin to learn to stop hating himself before he could ever build a healthy relationship with someone else. Although that was definitely a huge part of it.
But it was also because she knew that while she’d never ever regret the decision she made to be kidnapped alongside Addison and leave her campers behind, what was happening now was still just a small slice of time away from her real life. She had a job running trips with a company that had been in financial trouble before this started. God had not only entrusted her campers into her care, she felt like her whole heart was inspired toward fulfilling this dream. That was her real life. Not this terrifying, confusing moment she was trapped in today. Or the unforgettable man she was trapped in it with.
“I’m sorry,” Jeff said.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” she said.
“Yes, I do,” he said. “I don’t like how hard I was on you when we worked together. It’s like I couldn’t stop testing you and prodding at your façade like I was trying to prove you weren’t really as great as you seemed to be. I never consciously took what happened between me and Della out on you. You’re absolutely nothing like her. But...well...you know you’re...well, you’re dazzling, right?” Dazzling? She pulled back just far enough to look up into his face. “You’ve got this almost magnetic way about you that just draws people in. Quinn, you’re beautiful.”
So first he’d called her pretty, then dazzling and now beautiful?
“But I didn’t want you think of me as beautiful,” she said. “Or pretty or dazzling or whatever word you come up with next. I wanted you to respect me as an equal. I wanted you to admire my skills and not the way I looked. I wanted you to like the person I was and what I brought to the table as a colleague.”
Her voice rose. But she hadn’t moved away. She was still there, perched precariously on the rocks they’d just dug their way out of, tucked inside his arms.
He blinked. “You think I didn’t like you just because I was hard on you?” he asked.
“You were way too hard on me—”
“I agree,” Jeff said, “and I was wrong. I apologized for that, and hopefully I haven’t treated you like that since.”
No, he hadn’t. He’d listened, followed her lead at times, and completely respected her. Plus, he’d actually taken full responsibility for being difficult to work with in the past and hadn’t tried to deny it, gaslight her, excuse it or wave it away.
They hadn’t even been back in each other’s lives a whole day...
“And yes, of course, I liked you,” Jeff sputtered. “I more than liked you. I liked you more than anyone I’d ever met.”
Hang on, what was he saying? And why was she letting him talk to her this way?
It was like there was this current, invisible and strong, that kept pulling her toward him no matter how hard another part of her kept pushing away.
Jeff leaned forward, she did too, and she felt his forehead rest against hers. For a long moment, neither of them said anything. They just stayed there, resting in the closeness of being safe and together, and breathing each other in. Then he felt his hand reach under her chin and tilt her face up to his. Her eyes closed.
Jeff’s phone rang. The loud trilling seemed to shake the space between them. He let go of her, yanked out his phone and stepped away so quickly she nearly tumbled backward into the hole.
“Vic!” he shouted into the phone. “You have no idea how amazing it is to hear your voice! I’ve found Quinn. She’s alive and safe.” A wide smile beamed across his face as he spoke her name. “But we—” His smile vanished as his words stopped. “Uh-huh, okay. Hang on, I’m going to put Quinn on speakerphone so she’s part of this too.” He sat on a thick ledge of rock and waved for her to join him. As soon as she was seated beside him, he held the phone between them and pressed the button. “Okay, I’m with Quinn now and we’re on Speaker. Tell her what you just told me.”
“I’m sorry to tell you that Bruno’s passed away,” Vic said.
A sharp but inevitable pain moved through her. “So was it alcohol poisoning or drug overdose? Or was there something else he took or that someone administered to him?”
She’d known the scene in the truck had looked suspicious. There was no way a vodka drinker would take that many bottles of beer on a canoe trip or for the mere fact he was drunk make someone act so irrationally. A lot of people drink without breaking into houses, stealing trucks or committing crimes.
“None of the above,” Vic said.
“Then what?” she asked.
“Somebody just shot him.”
* * *
The confusion Jeff watched wash over Quinn’s features was only matched by the downright befuddlement of his own. Bruno had just been shot. Murdered. After getting drunk, first surviving crashing Vic’s truck into the river and then surviving nearly drowning. Quinn’s face paled, her skin went white and she dropped her head forward between her knees.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “All of a sudden I feel really sick.”
Jeff rubbed her back between her shoulder blades.
“What happened?” Jeff asked. “What do you mean somebody just shot him? Where? How? Who?”
Vic took in a deep breath and blew it out.
“It’s been a busy few hours, so forgive me if I go over anything I’ve told you before,” Vic said. “Bruno’s vitals were good when we lifted him out of the river. He’d been drinking but I wasn’t convinced that was the only thing going on. I wasn’t about to go into details then with a crowd of people standing around, but I suspected there was something more in his system too.”
Quinn raised her head and Jeff pulled his hand away.
“You mean like illegal drugs?” she asked.
“Prescription painkillers actually,” Vic said. “They’d explain why he was so sleepy and out of it. It wouldn’t take much for someone to crush up some pills and mix them in his beer.”
“He usually drank vodka,” Quinn interjected. “But that’s a clear liquid and beer’s brown. Plus, it doesn’t have as strong a smell as beer.”
“That tracks,” Vic said. “Bruno floated in and out of consciousness as I drove him to the clinic. He’d wake up and cry or rant and then pass out again.” The disgust in his brother’s voice was unmistakable. “It was pretty pathetic. I also had to pull the truck over a couple of times because he was sick. But I got him to drink a whole lot of both water and sports drinks. So, I was optimistic he’d sober up and be able to tell us what conceivable reason he’d have for doing what he was doing. I also blared Ontario Christian radio when I got into range and made sure he got a full blast of both rocking worship music and teaching.” Vic chuckled softly at the memory.
Yeah, that sounded exactly like the kind of thing his brother would do.
“Obviously, I was incredibly careful about everything I said on the phone to law enforcement, Rose and you, because I knew he’d be able to listen in,” Vic went on, his voice sobering. “Not sure if it was the conversation he overheard, the radio I was blasting or his own conscience kicking in, but the more of the drugs and alcohol he got out of his system, the worse he felt about everything. He was pretty incoherent. But he said he met someone online who somehow knew about some fraud he’d committed and money he’d gotten as a result of it. Something to do with claiming he’d been injured on a previous trip when he’d actually been drinking. Called him Big Poppa.”
Jeff felt Quinn grab his hand and squeeze it hard.
“Did he tell you anything about him?” Jeff said. “Anything at all?”
“No,” Vic said. “I wish I’d pushed him to tell me more, but he was really incoherent and I thought we had time. I called the police, asked them to meet us at the Kilpatrick clinic, and told them Bruno was willing to give them a statement. The police were there, waiting for in the parking lot, when we arrived, along with a nurse all ready with a gurney and a hydrating IV. Bruno had dozed off again. Like I said, he was in and out a lot.
“I got out of my door, started to walk around to his side and then suddenly heard gunshots. Like a sniper was hiding in the trees, peppering the lot with gunfire. Everyone hit the deck. When the shooting stopped, Bruno was dead. Somebody had shot him right through the passenger window.”
