He swallowed the lump in his throat. With one last glance at his sleeping wife, he quietly let himself out the backdoor, and locked it behind him.
The air couldn’t be icier if it passed by a glacier on its way to meet him. Rob shivered, in spite of his appropriately weather-rated garb. The more he moved, the warmer he’d be, so he wasted no time in stepping off the porch, and into the snow.
The sliver of moonlight was amplified by the white world that surrounded him. It was dark compared to the softly lit cabin, but his eyes soon adjusted. Conscious of his need to generate warmth and beat the storm to the lodge and back, he plowed ahead.
Gone, was the path he made from cabin seven, to the back porch of number six, in his quest for firewood two days ago. He plowed, stumbled, and struggled through the heavy blanket of powdery white, just as he did the first time he trekked to the other cabins. If he never saw snow again after this, he’d be fine with it. He had enough to last him a lifetime, and then some.
After several yards, Rob had to stop for breath. He resented the wasted time, but the snow was deep, and the way was rough. He filled his lungs with oxygen, then readjusted his scarf, and moved on.
White cloaked pines studded the world around him. Thanks to the drifts that reshaped the landscape, the majority of the landmarks were rendered unrecognizable. Trees sometimes hinted at the dirt road buried deep beneath the snow, but they were an inconsistent guide, nor could they be fully trusted.
Rob passed cabin six. He briefly considered turning on the lights in each one, then decided against it. They would be welcome beacons during the trip back, but digging his way through the drifts to each front door, would take more time and energy than he could spare.
He passed cabin five, then four, then three.
Shortchanging himself in the rations department probably wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done. If the snow was as heavy all the way to the lodge, by the time he got there, he’d be too weak to make his way back.
Rob ordered such thoughts aside, and forced himself to pick up his pace. He would make it there, and he would make it back, because he had to. In spite of, and because of, the loaded sleds he’d be dragging along behind. Samantha needed him, whether she wanted him or not, and Caleb needed his mom. It soothed Rob’s heart a little, to know he was also serving his son in this way. Caleb would probably never know, but it was enough that Rob did.
He passed cabin two, then one. Looming directly ahead, was the icy tomb of Randall Jerome, and Jess Stilton. Rob wasn’t disappointed to leave them behind.
He was traveling new ground now, and past the halfway point. Both were reasons to celebrate, and he did so by stopping briefly to readjust his scarf, and catch his breath.
A sharp crack sounded loudly in the still air. Rob froze in place as he searched the dim and indistinct terrain on his right. He watched, and waited, his ears straining. He was wasting precious seconds, he realized irritably. He yanked the flashlight out of his pocket and its bright beam pierced the darkness. Two eyes glowed briefly from within the forest, then their light was extinguished.
It was a wild creature of some kind. Probably a coyote, Rob thought grimly, as he kept the flashlight in his hand, and continued on. The bright light cast shadows of confusion over the landscape ahead, hindering his ability to find his way. The moonlight, though dim, was constant, and without shifting shadows. It could be full of coyotes, though.
Rob wasn’t afraid, and he did not have time for this. What he did have, was a wife and son depending on him. A son who knew nothing about him, and a wife who wanted nothing to do with him. If a coyote wanted to mess with him in the mood he was in, it would meet its match.
He kept his flashlight trained on the expanse of snow beside him, and the trees behind which the coyote might still be watching, and plowed ahead once more.
ERIK and Amber sat on the couch in her apartment, holding hands as they took turns praying for his brother, and her sister. As they did so, he felt a sense of peace settle over him.
“Did you want to say anything else?” Amber asked, her head still bowed, as she opened one eye and looked at him.
“I think that covers it,” Erik answered.
“Then in Jesus’ name we pray, amen,” she said.
“Amen,” Erik agreed, and they both hugged. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you wanted to pray together.”
“You know what the Bible says, about two or more coming together,” Amber replied. “Do you feel better, now?”
“A lot,” Erik said. “I know whatever happens, God already has a plan for bringing good out of it.”
“Good,” Amber said with satisfaction. “I feel better, too. I think it’s interesting how you pray. I’ve never heard anyone ask for the Holy Spirit to speak to another person, and guide their thoughts and actions.”
“Since your sister is a believer, she has the same Holy Spirit you and I do. We don’t have to be there ourselves, to encourage her in recognizing the truth and in making the right decisions.”
“When you said ‘speak’, did you mean words?” Amber wondered.
“Psalm one-fifteen, verse four, ‘Our God is in the heavens, and He does as He wishes,” Erik replied. “I make the request, and trust God to answer in whatever way He chooses.”
“Wow. That’s really cool,” Amber considered. “I do like praying with you. We should do this more often.”
“We will,” Erik promised. He glanced at the wall clock, then double-checked the time with his watch. “Good grief, it’s already Saturday. I should get back to my place, so we can both get some sleep before I pick you up in the morning. Later, in the morning.”
“If you must,” she said, with a sigh of long-suffering. “Leave, I mean. I’m great with the picking-up part.”
“Then unless you literally want picked up, I will have to leave first,” he teased.
“Maybe I do,” she teased back, squeezing his bicep as she walked him to the door. “You could do either one, easy.”
“Yes, I could. It’s leaving, that’s the hard part,” he said, as he hugged her goodnight.
“That’s fortunate. It wouldn’t bode well for our future, if leaving was your favorite part of going out with me,” she replied, and he laughed.
“It most definitely isn’t,” he declared. He wanted to tell her he loved her, that the more he knew her, the more he wanted to, and the more sure he was about her. Since he didn’t want to scare her off, he settled for words that were less intense than the feelings he had for her. “I care about you so much, Amber. I’ve never felt this way about any other girl.”
She could tell by the way Erik looked at her, but she liked hearing it.
“I feel the same way,” she replied, and wondered if he’d try and kiss her again. If he did, and her infuriating reflex kicked in, she’d demand a do-over!
“Goodnight, Amber,” he said softly, and kissed her cheek. The resultant stars in her eyes, and the way her heart pounded against his, was as encouraging as words could ever be. Unless he was severely mistaken, he wasn’t the only one in love.
“Goodnight,” she said faintly, as her heart fluttered some more.
“I’ll see you soon,” Erik smiled, and left.
SAMANTHA was startled by several loud pops. She opened her eyes, and another series of pops ensued, as the flames burning brightly inside the fireplace, discovered new pockets of sap in the logs they so eagerly consumed there.
As she lay watching the fire dance, it dawned on her that its cheerful crackle was the only sound. Samantha sat up, and glanced at the window.
There was no howling wind, hurling icy snow against the glass. There were no forceful blasts against the walls of the cabin. There was no shrieking around the eaves. Outside, all was quiet.
Samantha breathed a sigh of relief. The peace was welcome, and she couldn’t ask for better timing. In the dead of night, Rob wouldn’t be tempted to risk hiking to the lodge to replenish their food stores.
She glanced
wistfully at the bedroom door. For the fire to be blazing brightly again, Rob must have been there recently. Even though she was hesitant for Caleb’s sake to guarantee him a place in their future, he continued to meet her needs. He was still seeing to her comfort, in spite of believing he had nothing to gain by it. After their talk earlier in the evening, one thing was clear. Rob was convinced her decision was made.
A lot of other things were clear too, she thought ruefully. She felt convicted all over again, as the points he made played over in her mind. She rested her head in her hands, and wondered what to do.
If it wasn’t for Caleb, she wouldn’t be sitting here. She’d be with Rob. That’s where she wanted to be, right now. More than anything, she wanted to be with both of them. She wanted to be a family. But could she trust Rob to want that, and to keep wanting it?
Her conscience pricked her again, and she shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
This was about Caleb, and what was best for him. It had nothing to do with her wounded heart, or her injured pride, or the shame she felt at hearing the hurtful things that woman said. It had nothing to do with withholding forgiveness, until Rob paid for it with his own suffering.
Her scalp prickled, and her eyes widened.
That was the truth—wasn’t it? Her heart raced, as clarity insisted on clearing away the thoughts and clutter that confused her.
But this was about Caleb!
Do you believe him?
This was about making certain Caleb’s world was kept safe, and free from dysfunction!
Do you believe him?
It had nothing to do with whether she believed him or not! He hurt her! The things he did, the people he spent his time with, instead of seeking her out—it filled her with pain, shame, and embarrassment! None of it had anything to do with whether she believed him, or not!
Do you believe him?
“Yes, I believe him,” she almost whimpered. Why she bothered arguing in the first place, she couldn’t imagine.
Yes, she believed Rob. She believed what he said about the two years they were apart. She didn’t like it, but she believed him. Meredith wanted to hurt both of them, and Samantha should’ve known that all along. She did know it, but she let pride drown out the truth.
She believed him. And that meant… the only reason to sit out here by herself, was to punish him. Part of her did want him to pay for hurting her, she admitted, and immediately repented. She was thankful Jesus didn’t leave her to pay for her own sins. She couldn’t, and… neither could Rob. He could do nothing to change the past. No amount of suffering on his part would accomplish that. He was repentant, he was changed, and she had no business holding him to account for an insurmountable debt, when she’d been forgiven that, herself.
Samantha believed him. She believed Rob loved her, that he wanted a family with her, that he learned from the past, and the future would not be a repeat of it.
Samantha jumped up, and hurried to the bedroom. Her heart felt light, and heavy, all at the same time, because of the pain she caused him. She opened the door, and stepped inside.
“Rob?” she called softly. Whether he was asleep or awake, she didn’t want to startle him.
There was no response, so she followed the faint moonbeam that lit a path to the bed, where he slept.
“Rob?” she said again, as her hand touched the down comforter. She felt for her husband, but couldn’t find him.
Alarm washed over her as she ran her hands in increasingly broad arcs across the bed’s rumpled surface. With a sickening jolt, she realized he wasn’t there.
Samantha whirled, and fumbled for the lamp’s switch. Light burst forth softly, along with a sense of panic, as she took in the empty room.
A surge of adrenaline struck her heart like lightning. She spun, and flew back to the cabin’s living area.
“Rob,” she sobbed, as she saw the bathroom’s open door. She flipped on the light inside, her eyes flitting across the space frantically. The open door ruled out the toilet room, but the closet, was closed.
He had to be in there! Why, she couldn’t imagine, but—she threw open the door and it hit the wall with a bang, as she flipped on the light.
Her tape-covered, feather-coated clothing, and Rob’s backpack, were its sole occupants.
Her breath caught in her throat as she turned and ran back across the bathroom, her wool socks slipping on the cold tile. She slid through the doorway, her eyes locked on the kitchen table.
His coat, his boots, his snow pants, all of it—gone!
“No!” she gasped frantically. She ran for the backdoor, and flung it open.
An icy wall of air slapped her in the face, taking her breath and stealing her warmth as it enveloped her. She shivered with cold and fear, as she flipped on the back light, her eyes searching the porch.
Boot prints, and the snow so deep! Leading off of the porch, and into the dark night—
“Rob!” she called loudly, then louder still. “Rob!”
The snow absorbed her cries, draining them of their strength.
“ROB!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, then burst into tears. “Rob, come back! Please, come back!”
She stood there shivering in the cold until her body was wracked with tremors, and her back ached. Tears ran down her cheeks as she turned away from the trail of broken snow that led into the darkness, and closed the door.
Samantha sank to the floor in front of the fire, her eyes fixed on the logs, wondering how long ago it was that he put them there, and desperate for a way to go after him, and make him come back to the safety of the cabin.
“Why in the world would you go and do something so stupid?” she asked in frustration, wiping away the tears that were now as angry as they were fearful. “You just leave like that, and don’t even tell me…”
If he had, he would be here right now, even if it meant throwing his coat in the fire, she thought grimly, as she jumped up and reached for her phone.
It was as dead as it was several hours ago, and she felt like throwing it! Where was the stupid charger? Rob had it…
She hurried, shivering, across the kitchen floor toward the bedroom, her eyes traveling across the table, as she went. She stopped short at the sight of the single sheet of paper lying there, and snatched it up.
I’ll be back before you wake up, so you’re not even going to see this, but if you do, I’m at the lodge picking up supplies.
And that, was all it said.
Samantha felt more frustration, than she did relief. She knew where he was going, she didn’t need a note to tell her that!
Then again, after the way she withdrew her commitment to him, he might be just as likely to leave in search of his own cabin. She brushed away more tears, as guilt joined the other emotions that raged.
She considered how she would feel if Rob left her hanging, while he decided whether or not he was willing to trust her not to leave him again.
But that wasn’t what he did. He did trust her, and then she let him down and left, just as thoroughly as one could, while trapped in the same cabin.
Now that she was being brutally honest with herself, she had to admit she knew all along she wouldn’t leave without him. She was hurt, and she was afraid, or had been, and she did take her responsibility as mother seriously. She did have trepidation at the thought of doing anything that might risk Caleb’s stability. But she also knew Rob was telling the truth, and she did trust him. She loved him, she wanted him, and she wouldn’t choose to live without him. She just let him believe that she would. She let him believe it, so he would pay for her pain, with his own.
There was a point when he needed her forgiveness, but now she was the one in need of his.
Samantha buried her face in her hands, and repented all over again. She brushed away tears, and turned to the bedroom.
A glance at the outlets didn’t reveal a cellphone charger, but on the nightstand, she spied a notepad. Several lines were filled with math equations. She picked it up,
and read it over.
Each factor was labeled, in the neat block letters of an architect. Distance, speed, level of ascent and descent, time spent gathering supplies…
He allotted additional time for the return trip, which was smart. He was likely to need it. Not only would he be tired after hiking all the way to the lodge, he would also be loaded down with food to replenish their own.
As she considered that further, she was filled with concern. She turned and hurried back to the kitchen, and took stock of the pantry.
There was very little change in its contents. Did he eat at all, since lunch on Thanksgiving Day? Fresh concern flooded her, and she looked back at the notepad in her hand, and the equations written there.
The time required to get to the lodge, gather supplies, and return, were all calculated, but there was one critical factor missing.
What time did he start? It was after she fell asleep, she knew that much. But when did she? Samantha wracked her brain, trying to remember. Maybe midnight? Or before? She pressed her palm to her forehead, as anxiety filled her. If he left shortly after that, he should already be back. But… maybe he didn’t.
Samantha gave the window an apprehensive glance.
How much longer, before the storm would return? Rob would know, and he must believe he could make it, or he wouldn’t try, but…
Samantha searched for the charging cable with renewed fervor.
There it was on the end table, she should’ve known. Rob returned it before he left, so she would be sure to have it.
She plugged it into the wall, and her phone into it, and waited anxiously for it to charge. As dead as it was, it would be a few minutes before turning it on would do anything but drain the battery faster than it could recharge.
Samantha sank onto the couch and tried to calm her tumultuous spirit, as she waited. Just a few more minutes, and she’d have him on the phone. She’d make sure he was alright, then tell him to hurry up and come back. She’d also order him to eat something packed with carbs, scold him for leaving in the first place, and promise never to confuse commitment with commit-not, ever again.
Disengaged (Terms of Engagement Book 3) Page 44
