On a hook on the other side of the bedroom door, was a robe with Pine Mountain’s logo embroidered on the pocket. She could wear that until her clothes dried. He might not live that long, if she woke up before he could get it on her, but he was her husband, even if they did spend the last two years apart, and he wasn’t going to let her freeze to death in her ice-packed clothing, even if she killed him for it.
Rob picked her up and lay her on the couch, then wrapped the blanket around her. He shook the snow off his coat, and added it. Then he spun, and opened the fireplace flue. Would it draw? It better, he thought, as he lit the gas starter with the lighter on the mantle. He turned the flame up as high as it would go. It danced for a moment, then reached toward the chimney pipe and stayed there.
He made certain Samantha was fully covered, then stepped out the backdoor, onto the tiny porch.
Sight was almost useless, but he knew what he was searching for, and where it was.
Rob gathered an armload of firewood, and carried it inside. He lay the logs on the grate and the flame clutched them, as the scent of juniper filled the air.
He brought in armload after armload, until the whole stack was inside. Samantha needed plenty of heat, and he would see that she had it.
He wouldn’t go out again any time soon, so he left his snow boots by the door, and removed his ice-imbedded pullover. His t-shirt was dry, and his jeans untouched by snow and ice, thanks to the snow pants he wore. His heart filled with remorse as he draped them over the back of a kitchen chair, and resolved never again to put himself first.
Rob knelt in front of the fire and warmed his hands, determined not to chill Samantha when he touched her. He was exhausted for so many reasons, he couldn’t remember them all. He was too tired to think much, but he was grateful. Grateful she was alive. Grateful he didn’t succeed in hurting her any worse. Grateful he had another chance, if she was willing to give him one.
He warmed the robe in front of the fire, then set his coat and the blanket aside, and wrapped it around her. He re-tucked the blanket, then retrieved the one folded at the foot of the bed. After warming it, he tucked it around her for good measure.
She was beginning to shiver, so he moved to her side. Since he was now warm, he gently rubbed her hands and feet until they were, too. In spite of it, she was shaking harder. He warmed another blanket and covered her with it, then knelt on the floor beside her.
“Samantha, are you awake?” he asked gently, touching her cheek. She felt warmer, and her color was coming back. Her eyelids flickered and she glanced at him, then they closed. She probably wanted to block him out, and he didn’t blame her. “I’m so sorry, for everything. I haven’t acted like it, I’ve been worse than stupid, but I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry. So sorry.”
She shivered harder and her teeth chattered, but she glanced at him again, briefly.
“Do you want anything? Tea, maybe? Or coffee? I know there’s some in the kitchen.”
He thought she shook her head, but it was hard to tell as badly as she was shaking all over. He added another log to the fire that now blazed, and turned off the gas starter. The flames held steady, so he left it that way.
“So cold,” she chattered weakly. Rob rewarmed the top blanket and tucked it around her again, then retrieved a pillow from the bed. He warmed it, and placed it under her head.
“Is that better?” he asked. It seemed to be, her pinched expression eased somewhat.
Her eyes opened again, and she looked behind him at the coffee table.
“Bag—needs refrigerated.”
That probably wasn’t what she meant… but he looked inside, and found the sandwiches, chips, cookies, and sodas.
“Samantha… you’re amazing,” he said softly, humbled by her in so many ways. “I’ll put these away.”
Samantha was too spent to register the sudden change in him. She clung to the warmth of the blankets, pillow, and fire, but absorbing it seemed impossible. It felt as though her bones were frozen, and the pain was intense. Her head ached unbearably.
“Can’t get warm,” she almost whimpered, as Rob returned.
He wrapped his arms around her, and lay beside her on the couch. She was shaking so hard, it felt as if she’d be torn apart. He tucked her head under his chin, and held onto her tightly.
At long last, her shivering grew less instead of more. She seemed to be asleep, and he started to drift off, too. As he did, he remembered begging God for help, and finding it.
All he knew about God was what Erik tried to tell him, and he’d never been very receptive. At all.
That was going to change.
Chapter 4
ERIK sat on the couch in his and Rob’s temporary living quarters, watching the weather forecast. His eyes held concern as the forecaster talked excitedly about the unexpected cold front that dumped snow all over Ocotillo, and the surrounding areas. The window of the upstairs suite framed a gorgeous view of the Diente de Sierra mountains, blanketed in white, their spires reaching up into the pale sky. In spite of its lower elevation, Pine Mountain got the worst of the storm. And, it still was.
Erik muted the TV. He found the forecaster’s excitement tiresome. You’d think the woman never saw snow in her life! Then again, she was from Ocotillo. Maybe she hadn’t.
He watched the swirling mass of white on the TV screen, and wondered what was going on at Pine Mountain besides blizzard conditions. Rob didn’t answer his cell, nor had he returned Erik’s calls.
Instead of letting his imagination run wild, and worry run away with him, he asked God to handle what he couldn’t. Then he turned his attention to what he could.
The first item of business was to hire twenty-four-hour security for their development. Those arrangements needed to be made before the storm subsided, not after. He looked through the business contacts his grandfather compiled over the years, and found what he wanted. One thirty-minute phone call later, security was hired, and well apprised.
Erik looked through his grandfather’s list again, and studied the contacts his grandfather placed on the don’t collaborate pages. It included individuals, teams, and other contractors and their companies. His grandfather knew from experience that those listed were unreliable in some way, and were best not trusted. Erik would start his investigation there.
He took out his phone and brought up Amber’s contact info, which she made sure to add for him. He looked at the selfie she took of her and Caleb, and felt sympathy again.
Then he considered how strong and opinionated she was, and wondered how any guy ever managed to take advantage of her. Erik could barely keep up!
Hanging out with her during their siblings’ reception was one thing, and so was having coffee yesterday. He suggested that, because she asked why he seemed different than Rob and their mother. He was going to tell her, and he did end up doing that. But, he also stoked her desire to play Nancy Drew.
Receptions and coffee weren’t dangerous. If she failed to give careful consideration to her words before she spoke them, disaster wouldn’t befall her in either case. There was, however, danger in tracking down whoever was responsible for trying to sabotage their work at Pine Mountain. He wouldn’t even consider including Amber, if she didn’t say what she did about her gut feeling.
His eyebrows knit as he considered that some more. With a sigh of resignation, he selected her number.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hi, Amber. It’s Erik. I’d like to talk to your parents.”
“Great, we’ll meet you over there,” Amber said, thinking as she did, that she needed to inform her parents of the change in her role as aunt, to that of mother.
“And where, exactly, is there?”
“I’ll text you the address. They’re home, Dad got a snow day.”
“Alright. Please let them know I’m coming.”
“Don’t worry, I will!”
“And give me fifteen minutes’ lead-time.”
“Okay, fine! I’m callin
g now.”
She was gone, so he sat and waited for her text. When it arrived, he left his suite, mulling over their conversation from the night before as he followed the directions given by his vehicle’s GPS unit.
Amber was awfully young… still, she seemed so casual about leaving her son with her parents to go investigate with him. She loved Caleb, Erik could tell. The little guy was happy, cheerful, and generous to a fault. He seemed well-adjusted. Was that because his grandparents were raising him? She was going to college, and she mentioned working, both of which would make significant demands on her time. Erik wondered how Amber could so willingly miss out on the opportunity to be with her toddler, and spend it instead on investigating with him.
Maybe she was bored. Maybe she felt she was missing out because her life altered drastically when she became a single mom. Maybe she thought this would provide her with the excitement she was craving. He seemed to remember hearing she had a cousin who was an investigator… also an uncle. Maybe it was in her blood.
Still, something wasn’t adding up, and it bugged him.
Erik pulled up in front of the house, and followed the walk to the front porch. He waved back at the neighbor next door, who was intent on using a broom to remove the snow from his driveway. Erik preferred a snow shovel for such work, and wondered for a moment at the man’s choice. Then he remembered. This was the desert, not the mountains.
The door opened in response to his knock. On the other side, he saw Amber’s blue-eyed, blond-haired mother. Amber resembled her, and he remembered Samantha resembling their father. Caleb… apparently resembled Erik. He really hoped Caleb’s grandparents wouldn’t notice that!
“Hello, Erik,” Amber’s mother smiled, and welcomed him in.
“Hi, Mrs. Fields,” Erik smiled back. It suddenly occurred to him that thanks to his brother, his welcome could’ve been as cold as the icicles hanging from the eaves of the porch. But Amber’s mother was genuinely friendly, and put his mind at ease.
“Go ahead and have a seat, and I’ll tell Jay you’re here,” she said, motioning to the sitting room.
“Thanks,” Erik replied, and she continued down the hall. He headed for the couch, but slowed to a stop when he came to the piano.
He glanced at the many photos that covered the top of the upright grand. Family photos, Amber and Samantha as they were growing up, lots of Caleb, and Samantha…
In a hospital gown.
Holding a newborn.
Erik’s eyes flew over the rest of the photos, as he did the math several times. He stared back at the photo of his nephew in astonishment, then assumed a pleasant, neutral expression… much as he would if playing cards… and wasted no time in taking a seat on the couch.
He understood why Amber let him believe what he did. She was afraid he’d tell Rob, and… there’s no way he’d do that. Not unless Rob repented, and reformed. And not then, either. If Samantha felt safe telling him, she’d do it herself.
He thought over the many things Amber said last night, and shook his head as he tried not to laugh. The little twerp had a lot of fun mortifying him. This must be what it was like to have a younger sister. He wasn’t sure whether he was glad, or sorry, that he didn’t. He was certainly glad Amber wasn’t his sister. He wouldn’t be able to have nearly as much fun with this, if she was.
A gleam of amusement lit his eyes as he wondered how she’d take it now that the tables were turned.
“Good morning, Erik,” Amber’s father greeted him, as he and his wife entered the room.
“Good morning, Mr. Fields,” Erik said, rising to shake hands. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Of course,” Amber’s father replied, and they each had a seat.
Erik was doubtful he was going to get the fifteen minutes’ lead-time he requested from Amber, so he got right to the point.
“Yesterday evening, Amber told me when she has a gut feeling, she’s learned to pay attention to it. She said that you have, too. What can you tell me about that?”
“Do you mind explaining why she told you this, and why you’re asking?” Mr. Fields countered.
“My brother and I are contractors. We took over our grandfather’s business when he retired. We bid on the Pine Mountain development, and won. A number of peculiar things have occurred since construction began, which had the potential to hinder and slow down our work there. Yesterday, someone attempted to destroy one of the model homes, and do damage to the others. Rob called and told me this, after Amber and I ran into each other, so she heard. The mountain is inaccessible right now, due to the snow. While I wait for the weather to clear, I intend to investigate and see if I can determine who is behind this. Amber wants to help. I thought it was a bad idea. She was persistent, and I wanted to know why. She said she has a gut feeling. She told me she believes she can help, and that she should. If she doesn’t, something bad will happen. I told her I couldn’t make a decision based on that, I needed time to pray about it.”
“You needed time to pray about it,” her father repeated. He seemed surprised, and so did his wife.
“Yes. I wouldn’t make a decision about much of anything, without praying first. I’m a believer,” Erik replied. He had no idea if Amber’s parents were, or not.
“You are,” her father stated, as if that was difficult to absorb.
“Yes,” Erik answered.
“Yet your brother isn’t,” her father also stated.
“No, he isn’t,” Erik said.
“And your mother isn’t,” Amber’s mother managed to say without excessive hostility.
“No. She isn’t,” Erik agreed.
“But then you…” her mother wondered.
“My testimony is sort of personal,” Erik replied carefully. “But when I was thirteen, I put my faith in Jesus. I’ve never regretted it.”
Amber’s parents mulled that over, the look in their eyes curious, as Erik got back to the original topic of conversation.
“So, I prayed about it, and now, I’m here, wondering how seriously I should take Amber’s gut feeling.”
Her parents needed a few more seconds to consider that, and exchange a glance.
“Did Amber say anything else?” her father wondered.
“I told her it could be dangerous,” Erik answered, thinking back. “She said for her, it wouldn’t be. Whoever’s responsible knows who I am. They don’t know her. She can ask questions without raising suspicion. Then she told me about her gut feelings, and that she’s learned not to ignore them.”
“We all have,” her father replied.
“When she was six years old, we had a family camping trip planned,” her mother elaborated. “A friend of Jay’s offered to let us use his cabin. We were all looking forward to it. Then the day before we were to leave, Amber became extremely agitated. She cried, begged, and pleaded, that we cancel our trip.”
“She told us she knew something bad would happen if we didn’t,” her father said. “We thought her fear was irrational, and that if we stayed home it would only strengthen it.”
“She had us a little worried about her, she was so convinced,” her mother admitted. “Like Jay said, we didn’t want to encourage her to be fear-driven. Or, that this was the way to get out of something she didn’t want to do.”
“Or eat, like meatloaf,” her father said, glancing at her mother. She grimaced, and looked back at Erik.
“She wouldn’t eat it. We thought it was a control issue, and insisted. She refused, and chose not to eat at all. The rest of us ended up with food poisoning.”
“And… what about your trip?” Erik wondered.
“We got up the next morning, and she wasn’t in her bed,” her mother replied.
“We couldn’t find her. She was only six, she had us scared to death,” her father added.
“Where was she?” Erik wondered.
“She was in the elm tree in the backyard,” he answered.
“She took a box of cookies, a bottle of water, her doll, and a
book,” her mother said, and they both smiled a little at the memory.
“We were ready to call the police,” her father continued. “We were outside, yelling her name, and suddenly we hear her from up in the tree. She said she wasn’t going camping, and she wasn’t coming down either. Not unless we decided to stay home. We said she could stay in the tree, we’d go have fun without her. She promised to jump if she heard the garage door open. She threatened to jump anyway, then we’d have to stay home and take care of her broken bones.”
Erik tried not to smile at that.
“We thought she was behaving terribly,” her mother remembered. “We couldn’t let her think that was alright, but what could we do?”
“Like she promised us, if I tried to climb the tree and get her down, she’d throw a fit and we’d both end up with broken bones,” her father said. “We threatened, reasoned, and threatened some more. She climbed out on a limb where I couldn’t reach her, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so out of patience in my life.”
“We finally went back in the house,” her mother continued. “We knew she’d have to come down sometime.”
“We had a long list of consequences planned, whenever she did,” her father added.
“Several pages worth,” her mother remembered.
“Her disobedience was deplorable, and she made the rest of us miss out on the trip we’d been looking forward to,” her father continued. “That afternoon, my friend called, the one with the cabin. He was relieved we hadn’t started yet. Three hours earlier, a freak lightning storm struck the trees that grew thick on both sides of the road leading up to it. A large section of forest burned before firefighters were able to contain it. My friend lost his cabin, and if we’d been there like we intended to be, we would’ve been trapped. The one road led through the blaze, and the fire traveled much too fast to outrun.”
“Are you serious?” Erik asked automatically. Obviously, they were.
“It was hard to punish Amber, after that,” her mother replied. “We had no way to know if she was being terribly disobedient, or…”
Disengaged (Terms of Engagement Book 3) Page 7
