Long Live the Rebel

by E L Irwin

  “He wouldn’t do the treatments? Why?”

  “Jake had watched his own mother, your grandmother, go through the battle. Saw what it had done to her, what it had done to his family, and just didn’t want to do the same. He wanted to be able to live whatever time he had left in relative comfort, able to enjoy life. And, he had things he was trying to get done, things that were important to him.”

  “More important than getting treatment? What could be more important than that? Treatment might have saved his life, might have extended it.”

  Kerry just looked at me quietly, expectantly.

  “You mean… do you mean that he refused treatment because of me? That doesn’t make any sense. At all. He didn’t even know me.”

  “I think you’ll understand, AJ, when you get to the house.”

  “Let me get this straight. I will need to live at this house for an entire year before I can do anything about it, before I can sell it?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And if I don’t live there? If I choose to just head home and forget all about this?”

  “Well, you’d still have the taxes to be paid, and regardless, you’d have to wait a year to sell anyway.”

  “Oh, well, that’s just freaking perfect.”

  “Just go to the house, AJ. Stay for a few days, see what you think. All right?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay for an entire year. I have other commitments. And, I still have my place on Coronado…”

  “AJ, go to the house. Just take a day or two to think it over, all right?”

  “Just go to the house… All right, I’ll go. I’m not promising to stay, though. But I will go.”

  Kerry smiled then, lighting up his entire face. “You’ll want to stop at Safeway and pick up some groceries. We had the house cleaned, but there’s nothing in the way of food or household goods there.”

  “All right. Which way is Safeway?”

  “Make a left from the parking lot. It’s about five blocks down. How about you get what you need and then meet back here. Either Ryler or I will take you out to the house.”

  “All right,” I said, rising from the chair. “I’ll see you back here in a while.”

  Kerry walked me out to the front room, heading to the door to open it for me. He searched the parking lot before turning back to me. “Looks like Rye already took off. I’ll be the one to take you out there.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

  Driving to Safeway, I took note of several places where I’d like to stop — if I stayed any longer than the original time I’d allotted for this trip. Namely, the Reddog Coffee Company. I’d definitely need to stop there. Because, you know, coffee. Besides, it looked like a lot of fun.

  Even though it was Safeway, and Safeway was essentially the same as Von’s, it was still a different store than what I was used to, so my shopping took me a little longer than normal. But when it was all said and done, I had enough food to last me for several days. And I remembered to get supplies for Josephine as well. Considering all that I’d just been through, I felt I’d done a fine job, so after loading the sacks into the trunk and assuring Josephine she’d be out soon, I headed back to Kerry’s.

  CHAPTER THREE

  In Sunshine and in Shadow

  Kerry drove a newer Ford F150 extended cab with a Seahawks logo on the back window. I followed him for several miles, heading in a southerly direction. We turned onto an unpaved road and followed that for a couple hundred yards or so as the road meandered away into thick trees, crossing over a small wooden bridge that spanned a fast-moving creek. The elevation of the land increased slightly then leveled out as we came to a large clearing about an acre or more in size.

  The two-story house sat nestled beside a thick stand of what looked to be both white birch and aspen trees. One thing I noticed as I drove north was how clear the air had become the farther from California I got. And here, I noted, with the Olympic Mountains pretty much in my back yard, and being so close to the Strait, the air was exceptionally clean-smelling, like a literal breath of fresh air. As I stepped from my car, I took a long, slow breath, savoring the fragrances around me.

  Jacob’s house was an interesting mixture of rustic log home and country cottage. From the base of the house, near the footings, river rock reached up the sides about three feet or so, with split logs spanning the rest, with the exception of an honest-to-goodness turret, like in a castle or something, built from large grey-stone bricks. The windows were leaded, giving it a charming cottage-like look. The roof was constructed of a deep green metal of some kind. And ivy grew up the north-facing wall, creeping along the eastern side as well.

  The front of the house sported a flagstone path and entryway. Ferns of various kind grew along the pathway to the front door. Kerry allowed me to look my fill, no doubt understanding as best as he was able to what I might have been feeling. I noted the attached garage and the roses blooming in various tubs scattered around. To say I was surprised was putting things mildly. Had there been a woman here? If so, who was she? Where was she? Did my… did Jacob have any other children? This just wasn’t what I’d expected from a bachelor living on his own.

  As I surveyed my surroundings, noting the way the home sat in both sunshine and shadow, I reflected how like my personal life the house was, situated in sunshine and yet covered in shadow.

  Kerry unlocked the front door, stepping aside to allow me inside. He offered to help me carry my belongings in, and after a quick glance around, I readily agreed. At least, it gave me something to do to keep my mind off the enormity of what I was actually doing.

  Once everything was inside, Josephine included, I let her out of her crate and put food and water out for her. Then I made sure to fill her litterbox and place that where she could easily find it.

  Kerry waited patiently as I performed these few tasks. When those were finished, he showed me through the house. The foyer was welcoming in nature with those same flagstones from outside continuing inside; the walls were painted a deep cream color. The foyer led into a great room with a large rock fireplace; centered on one wall was a patio door that opened onto a covered deck. The kitchen seemed to be fairly modern — the appliances were up to date at least — and Kerry assured me that they all worked. Other than the foyer, the entire downstairs was floored in hardwood of a brownish-grey color, reminding me of old barn wood. Jacob had several large throw rugs around to make it feel cozy.

  The staircase sat beside the foyer, and a mixed beige carpet began at the foot. We passed the staircase by as Kerry pointed out the utility room and the door connecting to the garage. Then we headed back, passing the entryway again, as we headed toward what I assumed was the turret room. It was a library. Jacob had built a library. A small fireplace sat between two tall windows, and nearby were large, oversized comfy chairs and ottomans placed perfectly. The walls had built-in shelving, and they were half-filled with books. Out of curiosity, I took a moment or two to peruse his shelves to see what had interested this man.

  Jacob had what looked to be a completed collection of Louis L’Amour books as well as various wartime and history books. I spotted a well-worn Homer, Mark Twain, and Charles Dickens. And then, just as I was turning away, I saw my books. All of my books. My heart thudded painfully, slowly in my chest. And, for some odd reason, I felt a little lightheaded. With a trembling hand, I reached for one of them. It was a copy of Hellfire Heroes. And as I opened the cover, I saw it had been signed. By me. I’d addressed it, Dear Jake. With the book still in my grasp, I turned to Kerry, “How? I don’t… I don’t understand.”

  “They’re all signed, AJ. You did a signing in Seattle a year back or so. He came. That was just after Jake had been diagnosed. He wanted to see you in person just once before he died. You signed his books for him. He was so proud of you — talked about it nearly nonstop for months.”

  My eyes welled up, and I spun away, trying to control my shaking. Trying to comprehend. I remembered that
event. He’d come to my signing. He’d been there. And had never said anything to me. Had never given any indication as to who he was. I heard Kerry as he retreated from the room, leaving me alone for a moment. Then I heard as he returned, a large hand appearing beside me holding several tissues. Sniffing a laugh, I accepted them with a nod.

  “It’s a lot to take in,” Kerry quietly stated.

  Nodding, I finished cleaning myself up then placed the book back on the shelf.

  Kerry led me upstairs next, showing me the master suite and the two spare rooms. The view from the upstairs was breathtaking. The Olympic Mountains looked close enough to touch. The upper portion of the turret resided in the master suite, and this was situated as an office, complete with a large desk and writing surface. The windows offered an inspiring view of those amazing mountains. And just to the right of the window, it appeared that wisteria was winding its way upward.

  The bedroom also sported its own balcony. I stepped to the French doors and peered outside, noting the small wrought iron café table and chairs. Taking a slow, deep breath, I turned back to Kerry. “Thank you, Kerry. For bringing me out here, showing me around.”

  “Of course. It’s the least I could do for Jake.” Kerry held up that thick manila envelope. “I’ll leave this downstairs. When you’re ready to, it’ll be there. Now, how about you just take a few days to look things through, think things over… and I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, squaring my shoulders. As we made it back downstairs, I asked, “Is there Wi-Fi here? Or dialup at least?”

  “There is Wi-Fi. Jake had it installed for you.” We’d made it out to my car by then, and Kerry pointed to the road where we’d come in. “If you follow that road farther up, you’ll run into Ryler’s place in about three miles. He’s a quiet guy, Ryler is. But he was like a son to Jake, which is why if you have no interest in the place, Ryler will have first dibs.”

  “So… did Jake ever marry? Have any other kids?”

  “Jake never married. He dated a bit, but that was it. And you’re his only biological child. He had no intention of going through that again. Ryler would be the closest thing he had to a son. If you need anything, Ryler is the one to call. He’s closest, and he did most of the work on this place. Your Wi-Fi info, the house key, and the remote for the garage, as well as Rye’s number are inside that envelope. You have my number, so can also let me know if you need anything. I hope you’ll be happy here, AJ, and I hope you’ll find the answers you’re seeking.”

  “Thanks, Kerry,” I said. “Me, too.”

  Kerry drove away. And the silence hit me. It was so incredibly quiet out here. Just the occasional chirp or call of some bird or the buzzing of an insect. It was peaceful, reaching deep into the soul. I stood there for a few minutes, just listening, taking it all in, and the longer I listened the more I became aware of the sound of whispering. A light breeze moved through the pines, spreading the rich fragrance around, intertwining with that lovely, almost musical whispering.

  Turning back to the house, I couldn’t help but think of how much this place was reminding me of something from a fairytale. Breathing deeply once more, I headed inside to get my things situated, and try to settle in, settle down.

  Wood had been cut and neatly stacked on the back porch, so after an easy dinner of grilled cheese and tomato soup, I sat before the roaring fireplace and went through that envelope. At least, I looked through things. I wasn’t quite ready to read those letters yet — soon, but not yet. I’d sleep on them a day or two first.

  Kerry had included a county plot map of the property, highlighting the location of the house to the boundaries of the land. My eyes lit on the two creeks, Bear Creek and Wolf Creek, that ran across the land, one to the south, the other to the north. My gaze continued on to a section highlighted in green — Ryler’s land.

  Ryler. Who was he? By the comment that Kerry made back at his office when he’d scanned the parking lot looking for someone — he’d said that Ryler had taken off already — I guessed at who he’d been referring to. The only person I’d seen there had been that intriguing male, the beautiful one, the one with the limp, the scars, and the tattoos. If I were a betting person, I’d bet he was this Ryler. He hadn’t stuck around though, despite his rather interested gaze. And if he was Ryler and had been like a son to Jake, then he most likely was resenting the heck out of me right now. Which was really too bad, because the pull I felt toward him had been strong. Stronger than I’d felt in quite some time. And a part of me wanted to respond. To give a little tug back and see what happened.

  I wondered then if Jake had any other family still in the area. Siblings, nieces, or nephews. I’d call Kerry tomorrow to ask. It’d be awkward to run into them while I was in town. Then again, it might be better if we were unaware of each other at all. They didn’t need to know that I was here. I could take care of business and leave without them being any the wiser for it. It occurred to me then that this might have been how Jake had felt when he came to my signing.

  After dinner, I washed my dishes and put them away, then I wandered more slowly back through the house, taking things in, noting the pictures on the walls. Stopping to peruse the faces, I studied each one, trying to get a feeling for the man who’d been my father. Jake had many pictures of me. School photos, photos I’d released on my webpage, and there was one — one of myself and a man — at that book signing in Seattle. From the other pictures Jake had mounted on the walls, ones of him in uniform, military-type pictures, I knew that the man beside me in that photo was Jake.

  My heart tripped over itself as I studied his face, noting his eyes. Brown eyes. Deep brown eyes, twins to mine. I’d always wondered who I’d gotten my brown eyes from, considering my mother’s were a blue-green hazel. I’d always just assumed they were from my deceased father, though from the one picture Mom had given me of him, his eyes had appeared to be blue. Never in a million years had I considered they’d been from a very much alive father. I wondered what he’d been thinking in this moment. The look on his face was one of pride and pleasure. One might have assumed it was from meeting a favorite author, but now, considering all that I had learned, I wondered if it wasn’t something more.

  Trying to shake off the overwhelming feelings I was experiencing, I called Leslie to let her know that I was here and settled in, and then I called Harley and told her the same thing. She asked if I’d seen anyone that sparkled yet. “Harley, you remember I’m in Sequim, not Forks, right?” She assured that she knew that, and was only teasing. For a brief moment, I considered the man, the one I assumed was Ryler, and the way the sweat had glistened on him before shaking my head and moving on. I didn’t, however, tell her of the stipulation in the will that I live here for a year before I could do anything with the property. That was for another conversation.

  I didn’t sleep well the first night. It was too dark. Too quiet. Other than the illumination from this house and the garage, there were no other lights to be seen — anywhere — with the exception of the stars in the sky. It was almost as if I was the last person on earth. And to someone used to the sounds and lights, the bustle of activity that was Coronado, that was something of a disconcerting sort of feeling.

  The next morning, I drank my coffee while I answered emails. Then I headed outside to take some pictures of the view to post on my blog page. I made a mental note to check out the hiking opportunities in the area and wanted to make a trip to the Strait as well.

  I worked late that night, getting my laptop set up, trying to settle back into Midnight Marine. The characters were being a little stubborn though. No one wanted to speak with me. So, I did a favorite writing exercise. Leaving behind contemporary romances, I started work on a regency-era fantasy, complete with knights-in-shining-armor and damsels that could kick your butt as well. Josephine climbed into my lap a little after one. It had begun raining at some point while I worked. The sound loud, yet comforting on that metal roof. Stretching, I saved my file and headed fo
r bed.

  Ryler stood deep in the tree line, his dog, Shiv, beside him, a constant presence. The large, black Irish Wolfhound mix had whined, wanting out, and Ryler had been restless. He’d been restless for the last day or so. Basically, since he’d seen Jake’s daughter — AJ — in Kerry’s parking lot. He hadn’t even spoken to her, and she was already under his skin. Like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. When his phantom pain acted up, he had mental exercises that he’d do to help relieve the tension and irritation. Pretending to flex and stretch each of his toes, his foot, his leg, mentally moving those muscles, feeling them in his head. The itch Jake’s daughter was producing didn’t seem to have a connection in his skull. He didn’t know how to flex and move this irritation. Moving, walking, staying busy seemed to help the best. So, when Shiv had whined to be out, Ryler had gone with him, just for something to do. And he wasn’t sure just how they’d ended up here, looking out over the clearing, toward the house. Maybe it was because Shiv had been used to visiting with Jake, and it was habit for the both of them to wander this way. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was just past one in the morning. The only lights from inside the house coming from that upstairs bedroom.

  Ryler saw movement inside, but he was too far away to see much of what she was doing. And besides, he didn’t want to intrude on her privacy. So, he whistled quietly for Shiv, who’d been meandering into the tall grasses of the clearing, and headed back to the cabin.

  After the deluge from the night before, I was somewhat surprised to see the sun shining so brightly. Josephine was sitting at the French doors of my balcony, tail switching as she watched the goings on of a couple birds just beyond her reach. I opened the door for her then stepped out to admire the view, which was impressive. That wisteria vine nearly reached the balcony, and I leaned over the railing just a little to see if I could reach one of the blooms. My lack of height became a factor, so I stepped onto the bottom rail and tried again. I was able to reach a couple blooms and picked them off. As I stepped down from the rail, my slipper caught on something and pulled from my foot, slipped between the slats, and fell down to the pavement below.