by Cheryl Wyatt
Lauren unfurled fringed shower curtains she’d sewn. “Like?”
“Love! Those are pretty.” Bri appreciated the company and knew they were keeping her mind off things. Such as the fact that the main lodge next to her personal cabin was now a charred-out shell. Water damage from the fire trucks had caused as much damage as the smoke, heat and flames.
Suddenly something at the window caught Bri’s eye. She gasped, surged up, bumped her arm and cried out in pain.
Lauren and Kate rushed to where she’d stumbled to the window, hyperventilating at this point. “More ash!”
Bri ran outside at the sight of it. Had it caught fire again? Her hyperventilating calmed when she realized that this time it really was snow. She instantly felt ridiculous as her friends gathered around her. “Bri, it’s okay. It’s stress.”
“I feel like an idiot.”
“You’re not,” Kate said. Lauren turned to tend to Tia, then came to see what the commotion was. Bri eyed the sky, and the white powder that fell. “The guys can’t renovate the cabins in this.”
“Yes, they can. Somewhat. Snow is good. Southern Illinois snow rarely falls or lasts for more than a day. Plus, it’ll keep any hidden embers from reigniting.” Kate rubbed the chill from Bri’s arms. “We’ll get you through this, Bri. Okay?”
She nodded but felt like a fraud doing it, because absolutely nothing was going to convince her things would be okay.
She peered outside, through gray clouds, finally getting how Ian could question God. She wasn’t inclined to doubt God’s goodness, just whether she was meant to let go of the lodge.
Caleb told her that would be easiest. And that was before the fire. “I hope Ian didn’t somehow get word to Caleb and tell him. He’d really worry.”
Kate and Lauren didn’t confirm or deny Caleb knowing or Ian informing, and that didn’t make her feel good.
While Lauren had Tia in the kitchen, Bri sat on a rug across from Kate and put her chin on her knees. I don’t want to take the easy way, Lord. But I don’t want to waste everyone’s time, either. This lodge is a problem for too many people. “Kate, what if Lisa started contracting because she had to take Ian’s load plus the other anesthesiologist’s? He needs time with Tia to cultivate trust. I’m hindering all that.”
“No, Bri. It’s just a rough patch in your life right now. A bottleneck of stress always squeezes the most right before things push through.”
“I don’t understand how a person’s life can rain fire and snow in the same day.” Bri put her head down since someone entered. If it was Lauren, Bri didn’t want to upset Tia.
Kate’s fingers resting slightly on her shoulder caused tears to break through. “I’ll never make the bank’s deadline.”
The hand felt herculean strong. Whoa. Not Kate. Bri looked up to find Ian’s tormented gaze locked on hers. His jaw was tense and empathy generated from his eyes.
“Where’s everyone?” Bri and Ian were alone in the room.
“I sent them to the sunroom.” He pulled her to her feet and held her up against him. She shouldn’t, but she let herself lean into his strength, and let the tears flow.
He held her for several moments until all Bri could hear was his calm breathing and her jagged pulls. Yet, she sensed something was wrong. She leaned back. “Ian, what’s up?” Foreboding encroached on her.
“One of my PJ buddy’s wives is driving Tia to my mom’s for a couple or few days.”
“Why?” Bri’s heart thumped in her chest. “I can still watch her—”
His finger touched her lips, which silenced and surprised her. So much so that she startled and backed away. He looked confused, then slightly annoyed and confused again.
Something was wrong.
Really, really wrong.
“Ian, what’s going on?”
He tensed. Eyes flickered with something she couldn’t define yet it scared her to death. She braced his arms. “You’re trembling.” His breathing had turned shallow, and he averted his gaze.
What on earth? Had he lost a patient? No, he’d lost patients before and had never reacted like this.
At some point, Lauren had taken Tia to the car—Bri could see them getting in, Tia packing Mistletoe and Lauren Tia’s suitcase. Finally, he seemed to be able to speak.
“There’s no way you can watch her with everything you have going on. I have stuff going on, too. Mom wanted her for this weekend, anyway, and was delighted to get her early. I hadn’t sent her there before now because I was trying to build my own relationship with her.”
“It’ll happen, Ian.”
“Not if life keeps throwing us curveballs.”
Bri’s heart sank. “I don’t expect your help with the lodge. Please don’t take time away from Tia to work on it. Promise me you won’t. She needs you more than I do. Uh, my lodge.”
“I can’t promise that.”
Bri shook her head. “Ian, you can never get back this time.”
“Trust me, I’m fully aware of that.”
Bri’s heart soared. “Wait! Mom had to have had insurance.” Unless she’d grown too ill to think about bills and let it lapse. Please let there be insurance. “Caleb would probably know.”
Ian’s jaw spasmed at mention of her brother’s name. “Ian? What’s wrong? What are you not telling me?”
He backed her to the couch and sat her down. He knelt in front of her. His hands trembled as he squeezed her arms. Emotion and determination glinted in his eyes. “Caleb’s unit was ambushed.”
* * *
She was going to pass out.
“Watch her arm,” Ian instructed Kate, who protected Bri’s head as her body slinked and her knees gave way.
“I’ll get a cool cloth.” Kate rushed to the kitchen. Ian rested Bri’s head in his lap. Her eyes were open but wide and dazed. Unblinking. “Bri, can you hear me?”
She blinked as if barely seeing. “Think so.”
Completely disoriented. “Has she eaten today?”
“Yes. It’s probably hypotension from emotional trauma.” Kate met Ian’s gaze. “What did you say to her? Does she know you got word to Caleb?”
Ian’s jaw clenched. “No.” He met and held her gaze. “Two hours after that message got through, Caleb’s unit was ambushed. He was the point man.”
Kate’s face paled. She eyed him, then Bri. “Is he—?” she whispered.
“No word.”
About that time, Bri sat up. Gripped Ian with weak fists. “You have to go find him.”
Her words clutched him to the core. Ian felt responsible. Yet Caleb’s name was the one on all of the insurance paperwork. “I had no choice but to call.”
Who was he trying to convince? Himself? Or Bri?
Because right now, neither one of them looked convinced he hadn’t just made a mistake that could have cost Bri’s brother his life.
Yet he’d done what he thought best.
Bri sat, knees curled under her. “What are they doing to find him?” She sipped the water Kate brought but violently pushed away the granola bar extended.
“They’ve sent teams of SEALs. Some PJs are going, too, among others. Brock’s C.O. pulled in some favors.”
When Bri lifted her gaze, her eyes were void of everything other than anger. “Did you tell him about the fire?”
Ian held her gaze. “Yes. His command post, anyway.”
Her teeth clenched. “Would they have gotten the message through no matter what? No matter the danger?”
“Most likely.” He wasn’t about to make excuses. To tell her he’d had to call to help get insurance money moving for the lodge. In light of her brother, his noble efforts seemed in vain.
She swallowed. Slipped from his reach. Shook her head. Looked as though she wasn’t sure whether to bea
t him up or cry on his shoulder. Ian couldn’t bring himself to reach for her again.
She’d reject his efforts of comfort. And he honestly couldn’t blame her.
He’d made a grave mistake today.
If Caleb didn’t make it home, Bri might forgive Ian, but like the rift with her dad, she’d never forget.
And he’d have to live the rest of his life knowing his actions had taken her brother’s life away.
“I’ll sell it,” she said moments later in a catatonic voice.
Ian didn’t budge from the couch where he’d been sitting silently, offering his presence. Kate had gone to the trauma center to relieve a nurse who’d hurt her back. Which meant another staff member down and out.
Ian couldn’t take much more. Life’s walls were closing in, yet it was nothing like what Bri faced. And yet, Caleb was his friend, so he faced it, too.
But this was her brother, her last living relative and the person closest to her on earth, missing in action and presumed a prisoner of war.
No apology or excuse in the world could make up for that.
“Sell something,” Bri surprised him by saying.
He knelt nearby but didn’t take her hand. Tears dripped to the floor. What had she said? Sell something? “Sell what?”
“The lodge. Cabins. Everything. I’ll do anything to bring him back.”
“We don’t know that he’s gone.”
A choking sound came out of her throat and Ian could no longer restrain himself. He leaned in and pulled her close.
She didn’t pummel his chest, so he held her tight and wished like crazy he were a decent praying man.
“Ian, please pray.” She clutched the material of his shirt. He tensed his jaw. Wanted to tell her he couldn’t when all of a sudden she began uttering statements. Ian realized she was reading words from the Bible, and turning them to prayers. He closed his eyes and, while he didn’t speak himself, he nodded, hoping that might help. At least help her.
Please don’t let it be too late to help her brother.
The thought had glided in like an eagle over the sapphire lake. Shuffling sounded on the doorstep, then Mitch rushed in. “They got him.”
Ian surged to his feet. “The SEALs, or the enemy?”
“SEALs. He’s safe. A little banged up, but alive. Headed to a base hospital, courtesy of Pedro.”
“Pedro means PJs,” Ian explained to Bri. Relief he’d never known befell him like the snowfall outside. He helped Bri to stand, wrapped his arms around her, closed his eyes and for the first time in his life was glad for God giving people a connection of hope to Him through prayer.
She’d needed it. And God had come through.
Caleb and his unit needed it. And God came through.
Ian needed it, but for different reasons. And, apparently, God came through.
Not that Ian deserved it, but God had heard the cry of Bri’s heart, had seen her tears. Of that, Ian had no doubt.
* * *
“You wouldn’t believe it, Caleb. One week after Christmas and there’s eighteen inches of snow on the ground. The land and lake is gorgeous.” She wouldn’t mention the cabins.
Time to let go.
Bri held the phone closer, wishing she could hug Caleb in person. And turn back time.
“Hope it melts and goes away. They can’t work safely on a sloped cabin roof with slippery...stuff.”
She smiled. “Snow. You’re falling asleep again.” He sounded so adorable, medicated and groggy. He’d just woken from surgery where they’d removed a bullet from his biceps.
“You hear me?” Caleb’s voice grew insistent.
“Don’t worry about things here, baby brother. They’ll take care of themselves.”
“Don’t get rid of it, sis.”
“What?” She paced until she realized she’d picked up that habit from Ian.
“The retreat. Our lodge. The cabins. I didn’t realize until after that bullet knocked me down that I’ve been selfish.”
Bri’s throat clogged. She couldn’t bear to tell Caleb that it might be too late for the lodge. She’d made up her mind. Called the loan officer. Left a message and thrown in the towel.
But in turn, Bri was giving everyone their lives back.
“Bri?” Caleb’s voice had a distinct supervisory tone.
“I heard you.”
“I mean it. You don’t realize until your life is in jeopardy what really matters. The lodge, we grew up there. All I thought about lying there waiting for the rescue choppers was the memories. Me. You. Mom. Even Dad. Don’t be mad. Not at him. Not at me. Not at Ian. Not at yourself. Life’s too short.”
The connection crackled. Which was okay, because she couldn’t speak, anyway.
But she’d figured out what was most important, too. With the lodge out of the equation, everyone’s life would improve. She’d be devastated, but it had to be this way. “You need to go?”
“Prolly.”
She smiled. He was drifting off again.
But thankfully, thankfully, not forever.
“Knock-knock.” Ian’s face poked in the cracked door.
Nervousness surrounded him like an aura as he stepped in tentatively. As much as she wanted to be angry with him, she couldn’t. Not after what Caleb told her three seconds into their first hour-long conversation this morning. She’d been calling him every other hour on the nose.
“Hey.” He eyed her phone. “Caleb okay?”
“Sounds better every time I talk to him.”
“That’s good. I’m glad, Bri.” Deep remorse encompassed his entire being. Guilt. Failure. Shame. She needed to set him free.
“Ian, sit. There’s something you should know.”
He lowered to her couch but sat on the edge. Tension appeared to grip every pore of his being. He met her gaze without words.
“Caleb didn’t know about the fire until today.”
Ian’s eyebrow furrowed, then his jaw went lax.
“His commander didn’t tell him, after all. He thought it best to wait. Ian, you didn’t cause the ambush, or cause Caleb not to pay attention. It was just a fluke.”
Nothing on earth could measure the discernible relief on his face. “That’s good. That’s real good.” He blew out a long breath and rubbed hands along his thighs.
She wanted to go to him, to eliminate the agony from his tortured eyes. Somehow, during the fire, the snowstorm, the ambush, a bond had formed under duress. Despite Bri’s inclination to blame him, Ian had shown up every single day, rain or snow, to hammer away at her cabin. Whether from a sense of obligation, honor or duty, it didn’t matter. He never failed to show. Which was a lot more than she could say for other men in her life. “I can see why you and Caleb have become so close.”
He looked up. Angled his face.
“You two are a lot alike.” Same moral character. Duty. Honor. Bravery. Hard-work ethic. You name it.
“Listen, I came to apologize.”
“No.” She got up before he could protest and sat beside him on the couch. “Ian, it’s time you stopped seeing and saying everything you think you’ve done wrong, and start focusing on all the stuff you do right.”
He stood, watched snowflakes dance, then cling to the window. “Mesmerizing little things. Aren’t they?”
“Miracles, or snowflakes?”
He faced her. Face deadpan. Soft. Sure. “Both.”
She nodded, slipped her good arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder, giving rather than drawing strength for once.
When she looked up, his eyes were closed, face relaxed. Until he turned, putting them closer than she’d intended. A current of awareness fluttered like an unseen stirring of air. It reached between them, captivating. So soft, so light, ba
rely there.
They simultaneously stepped away. Bri felt a deep emptiness outside the comfort of his nearness.
Voices sounded in her yard. She started outside.
Ian’s bulky arm became a barricade. “You don’t need to go out in that stuff, Bri. Too risky with your arm.”
She peered out the window. Brock and Mitch stood chatting. Each had on coveralls and tool belts. Winter gloves, hats, boots. And it was the first time she could remember when she didn’t feel anxiety about people helping. Which was a tragedy, considering the loan officer was set to come assess the land for takeover today.
Should she move back north? No, that meant contending with Eric. She loved Eagle Point, but it would be too painful to stay. Especially if every inch of her childhood was being leveled. At some point, Ian had stepped outside with Mitch and Brock. They pointed toward her cabins that were lakeside. Then toward where the more remote forest cabins stood.
She needed to tell them. Soon.
So they could go back to their lives. Would Ian still let her watch Tia? At least until she figured out where to go from here? Ian pivoted to peer around the perimeter of her property.
Peace shone on his face as he surveyed her land.
How would he react when he found out she was probably on the cusp of giving it all up?
Chapter Ten
“Hard to believe the sky’s been dumping this for two solid days,�� Mitch said the next day at the trauma center, after another sleet-related accident filled the last empty trauma bay.
“Unprecedented.”
And because of the unusual weather and deep snow, the trauma center crew was stretched to the max.
Something had to give.
Ian faced Mitch. “Dude, we have to hire someone. Or call a rent-a-doc, something. Tia’s coming home from Mom’s today and I need to spend time with her. This is nonnegotiable.”
“I’ll take care of it.” The strain showed on Mitch’s face, too, and while he had the stress of planning a wedding, he didn’t have a daughter who’d been neglected. “I’ll call someone from Refuge to cover for you. Hit the road.” Mitch smiled and gave Ian a boot to the hind end. Ian hated feeling as though he was abandoning ship at EPTC, but he was only one person and couldn’t be everywhere at once. He eyed his watch. He had a couple hours before his parents and Tia arrived. He called Kate. “You talk to Bri about renting her cabin yet?”
