“You better be,” she retorted grumpily.
“I am. I promise, I am,” he said, hugging her close as she allowed herself to cry a little, even though she was so, so mad at him! To one side, Amber’s friends stood guard over Sheila, while Conner remained on the phone with the 911 operator. His eyes held compassion, along with a host of other emotions, as he watched his rogue employee sob in dejection. In spite of the shock and horror he felt, he sat cautiously beside her.
“I should call Rob, and let him know you caught Avenger,” Erik said quietly, and a hint of the spark he loved, returned to her eyes.
“I did, didn’t I,” she realized.
“Yes. You did,” Erik answered. “You, Amber Fields, caught Avenger.”
“I had help,” she said modestly.
“You are amazing,” he said softly, and finally she smiled.
ROB’S mind was dull, in spite of the pain that shot through his skull. From somewhere far away, a loud ringing jarred him repeatedly, then finally it was still.
He lay there, dazed and confused, as the sound of hissing, and the smell of natural gas, slowly dawned on his consciousness.
Rob rolled to his side, then forced himself onto his feet. He pressed against the wall as everything around him darkened for a moment.
Stay awake, stay awake, don’t pass out again...
Rob staggered to the gas shut-off valve, and gripped it feebly. It refused to turn, and desperation filled him.
There was a wrench, Stan had a wrench…
Rob wiped blood from his face, as his eyes fought to make sense of what he saw. Where was it? It was here. But was it still?
“Please, let me find it,” he prayed desperately, as he bowed his head, and saw it lying at his feet. With a prayer of thanks, he managed to pick it up.
Rob used the last of his strength to turn the valve. The hissing ceased.
He sank to the floor, and closed his eyes.
Chapter 27
SAMANTHA’S anxiety grew with each minute that passed, as she paced the floor of the small cabin, waiting for Rob to return.
As she reached the bedroom’s west window, she paused to follow the trail of broken snow with her eyes, as she’d done countless times since the rising of the sun. Try as she might, there was nothing more to see.
Her heart thumped heavily, and her muscles ached with tension. She felt as though she was drawing Rob back by sheer force of will, and that if she relaxed her hold, he would slip away. She knew that wasn’t the truth, but her muscles were as incapable of relaxing, as her mind was.
She turned away abruptly, and crossed the cabin to the east window.
Sullen clouds hung heavy in the sky, allowing little sunlight to pierce through. More clouds continued to roll in steadily, until only a few brief patches of palest blue remained to be seen at all.
“Where are you,” she said under her breath. Worry darkened her eyes, as possibilities flooded her.
He could be lost. Or injured. What sorts of wild animals inhabited the mountain? Would their fear of man be any deterrent at all, after being trapped by snow for so long? They weren’t the only ones starving, either.
How far could Rob go, on nerve alone? He expected to find what they needed at the lodge, but what guarantee was there that the lodge itself was still there to find? There was no solid reason to believe Randall and Jess didn’t target it, too, before the storm.
If there was no lodge, there were no supplies to replenish their own. Weakened by hunger and overexertion, the journey back would be even more difficult. It would take longer.
The knot in Samantha’s stomach tightened, as she pictured him struggling to beat the storm back to the cabin.
One thing was certain. When he did come back—and he would, she shouted down the doubts that assailed—Rob wouldn’t go hungry. Samantha couldn’t eat even if she wanted to.
Guilt gnawed at her as she continued to pace.
What she wouldn’t give right now, to see him walking back up that broken path in the snow. Or if he would just call, so she could hear his voice and know he was alright, and on his way back.
The room grew suddenly dark. Samantha’s eyes dilated and her heart fell, then raced, as she hurried to the west window.
The sun was gone, and likewise the sky. Dark clouds gripped the earth once more, and with a wail, the wind returned to torment that which wasn’t buried by snow, and to unearth what was.
Samantha gripped her head in her hands as fear overwhelmed her. She turned and flew out of the bedroom to the front door, and flung it open.
“ROB!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. The wind snatched away her words, and assaulted her with its bitter cold. She cringed, then stood her ground, staring into the blinding snow that swirled above the deep drift outside the door.
“ROB!” she screamed, but the only response was the cry of the wind.
With a sob, she closed the door.
ROB slowly opened his eyes. His mind was groggy, his head was killing him, he felt chilled, and when he winced, the side of his face was stiff. He touched his cheek gingerly, and found it caked with blood. A gash near his hairline, continued to ooze. On the opposite side of his face, his jaw ached. He carefully worked it from side to side. It wasn’t broken, anyway.
He took his time sitting up, and was thankful for the wall beside him. He slumped against it, then glanced down and grimaced at the pool of drying blood on the floor. There was more on his shirt, and his hair was matted with it.
Rob took several deep breaths, as dizziness threatened to pull him back into unconsciousness. His stomach churned as the room spun, then slowly righted itself. In spite of the aches, pains, and the chill from lying on the floor for…
How long was he there, exactly? How long since he was knocked unconscious, woke to turn off the gas, then passed out again?
A sense of panic filled him. He had to—sit down, or fall down, he quickly discovered. He rested his head against the wall, and waited for the dizziness to subside again.
Despair filled him as he sat there, incapable even of rising to his feet. If Stan was still in the lodge, he must think Rob was dead. He could understand why he would, considering how much blood was on the floor. If he had another run-in with Stan in the condition he was in, it wouldn’t take much to finish the job.
He saw the wrench on the floor beside him, and wondered if he had the strength to pick it up, much less wield it. As he stared at it dully, it slowly dawned on him that he didn’t need to. After turning on the gas, Stan wouldn’t stick around the lodge for long.
Rob felt another wave of despair, and tears filled his eyes. He was powerless, completely powerless, to stop the man from following his trail back to Samantha.
But God wasn’t. God was all powerful. He could do anything. That didn’t mean He would, obviously. Rob got clubbed in the head, instead of immobilizing Stan, and making it back to Samantha with the supplies she needed. This was not what Rob prayed for, but… maybe he needed this, somehow.
It was all about becoming Christlike, Erik said. He wasn’t sure how this would get him closer to that, but… it was an opportunity to have faith, and to trust in God, and not make his faith in Him dependent on the outcome. Maybe that was the point.
He had a sneaking suspicion it was the Holy Spirit who pointed that out. Much as the sinful nature side wanted to argue against it, declaring that a good God would’ve spared him being clubbed, and Samantha from—from any harm that might have befallen her…
Rob’s heart wrenched. He held his aching head in his shaking hands, as worry threatened to overwhelm him.
“No,” Rob whispered softly. “No!”
He winced in pain, but kept on.
“No, I won’t believe those lies, even if they make sense to me right now! I know You’re good, even when things are bad. I trust You, I do, I choose to, even when my heart is breaking and I’m terrified. I trust You. No matter what. But You did say to come to You with my needs and concerns. It does ma
ke a difference, like Paul said in Second Corinthians, You graciously answered the many prayers for his safety. The church in Corinth helped by praying for him, so I pray that You’ll help Samantha. Protect her, keep her safe, and bring her back to our son. I pray that You will shield her from harm. I will still trust You, no matter what, but I ask that You will protect her…”
Rob continued to pray, relinquishing his fears and concerns, until his anxiety eased. Peace settled over him, and he was comforted.
He rested his head against the wall, and considered trying to get up again. The floor of the boiler room was as hard, as it was cold. He’d just as soon find a more comfortable place to convalesce.
Rob carefully got one foot under him, then the other. He managed to stand, but his head swam. He leaned against the wall heavily, until he felt steady enough to continue.
One slow step at a time, he made it to the door and out into the hallway. Another wave of dizziness washed over him, and he waited for it to pass before continuing.
As he slowly followed the hall to the pro shop, he became aware of the faint howl of the wind in the distance. It grew louder the closer he came to the end of the corridor, its shrieks and howls rising, then fading, only to rise again.
Beside the pro shop’s door, the floor glittered with bits of broken glass. What was once the window, now resembled more of a cutout, or walk-through. Rob surveyed the damage briefly, then punched in the code, and opted to use the door.
Through the window facing the lobby, Rob viewed the storm as it raged on the other side of the glass wall. If there was any daylight left, it couldn’t compete with the lobby’s bright lights. They illuminated the snow that swirled on the other side of the glass, but beyond that, visibility was lost.
Rob turned away with a shudder. Being stuck inside the lodge wasn’t his first choice, but it beat being stuck outside in the storm.
The contents of the pro shop were no more organized, than they were before. They didn’t look any more disorganized, either. Whatever Stan took, he took in a hurry, without taking time to destroy more than the window glass.
Rob collected a backpack, and stuffed it with an assortment of food and drink items, then proceeded to the nearest guest room. It, like the others, was unlocked for ease of access, and would remain so, until the carded entry system was activated.
As he sank into bed, he took his phone out of his pocket and pressed the wake button. There was no response, so he pressed it again, and held it.
Rob sighed quietly, and set the phone aside. Either it broke when he fell, or he was out so long, the battery died. Feeling of his matted hair, and glancing at the dried blood all over his shirt, he suspected the latter.
He would deal with clean-up later. He would deal with the phone calls he needed to make, whenever he came in contact with a charger. That wasn’t likely to happen until he returned to the cabin.
The thought left him weary. Instead of worrying over any of it, he pulled the comforter up to his ears, and closed his eyes.
ERIK sat beside Amber in her parents’ living room. While she recounted her perspective of the morning’s events to her mom and dad, Caleb toddled over with one of his toy cars. Erik smiled and accepted this latest offering, then silently admired it. Caleb smiled back, then returned to the toybox for another. Erik added the car to the growing pile beside him.
“How terrifying that must have been!” her mom exclaimed, giving Erik a look of concern.
“What was your plan? If Amber didn’t show up and save the day?” her dad wondered.
“My plan was to keep Sheila talking. I hoped Amber would have a gut feeling, and call the police,” Erik answered.
“The police don’t respond to gut feelings,” Amber informed him. “Believe me, I know. And I did have a bad feeling, but that was after I saw the picture of Sheila, with Randall Jerome and Jess Stilton. Then I thought of how you were determined to believe Conner Stevens was innocent, and that you intended to call him. That’s when I was certain you were there.”
“Connor is innocent,” Erik pointed out, as he accepted the toy truck Caleb offered. Amber rolled her eyes a little, and tossed her head as if that was entirely irrelevant. He supposed it was.
“How many others were involved in this?” her dad asked.
“Five. First of all there’s Avenger, also known as Sheila Burton, who is now in custody,” Amber began.
“Either that, or she’s being evaluated psychologically,” Erik added.
“If she isn’t, she’s waiting to be,” Amber agreed. “Then there was Amos Burns, and her cousins, Randall Jerome and Jess Stilton, who are now deceased. The fifth guy, Stan Pendleton, is also a cousin.”
A worried crease formed between her mom’s eyes.
“And where is he?”
“Possibly at Pine Mountain Lodge,” Erik answered, his eyes shadowing with concern. “I’d like to warn Rob, but so far he hasn’t answered. His intent was to go there when the storm let up, in order to replenish their food supply. Whether he has or not, I don’t know.”
“We can’t get hold of Samantha, either,” Amber added, as Caleb climbed onto her lap, and she cuddled him.
“Cell service could be disrupted,” her mom said, as worry creased her forehead.
“It could be,” Erik conceded. He hoped that’s all it was.
“What about that guy, Joe?” her dad asked. “Wasn’t it his number on the back of Conner Steven’s business card?”
“It was, yes,” Erik answered. “Sheila gave the card to her cousins, to pass on to Burns. The plan was for him to call Joe later next week, after Mr. Henry had time to visit the development, and decide Rob and I were incompetent.”
“What was Stan Pendleton’s purpose in going there? Was it the same as his deceased cousins’?” Amber’s dad asked.
“Yes,” Erik admitted. “The last time Sheila made contact with him, was the day before the three of them left for Pine Mountain.”
“So no way to know if he succeeded or not,” her dad surmised, and Erik nodded.
“If he did, he regretted it as soon as the storm began,” Amber said shortly. “Randall and Jerome were supposed to pick him up, on their way back to Ocotillo.”
“And all this, because Sheila was afraid she’d lose her job?” her mom questioned.
“Not exactly,” Erik replied.
“She’s in love with Conner Stevens,” Amber elaborated. “She was upset when Erik and Rob got the development. In her mind, Conner should have, and she was making it right.”
“Amos Burns, and her cousins, were in it for the money she promised,” Erik added.
“What a colossal mess,” her dad shook his head in disgust.
“It didn’t work out so well for Burns, Jerome, and Stilton,” Erik agreed.
“Sheila, either,” Amber’s mom commented.
“No, but the woman needs help,” Amber declared.
“You think she’s psychologically unbalanced?” her dad asked.
“Are you kidding?” his youngest daughter almost snorted. Caleb patted her cheek, and Amber calmed down slightly. “She intended to kill Erik. Anyone who’d want to hurt him, is certifiable.”
Erik rubbed his shoulder, and Amber caught the teasing gleam in his eyes. She rolled hers.
“I didn’t hurt you,” she declared. “I saved your life.”
“And provided incentive so that I’ll never risk it again,” he teased some more, as he put his arm around her.
“Maybe next time, you’ll believe it when my gut instinct senses danger,” she retorted.
“I do, I believe it. I did then, too. I just… kind of forgot,” Erik said.
“I’m just so thankful you’re both alright,” Amber’s mom declared.
“Now if we can just get Samantha and Rob off the mountain, we’ll be set,” her dad said.
Erik was glad to see the hostility toward his brother was gone. It meant they forgave him for hurting their daughter. It was also an indication they had no idea the
couple was once again estranged.
Erik hoped and prayed that before the storm ended and they returned, that would change. The glance Amber gave him, reassured that she was praying the same thing.
Amber rocked Caleb gently, as his eyes drooped, then closed.
“Poor guy, it’s getting kind of late,” Erik commented.
“Yeah, it is… Mom, is it okay if Caleb spends the night again? I hate to wake him…” Amber said.
“Of course, dear,” her mom replied.
Of course it was alright! Samantha made it clear that was her preference. If Amber sought to take him home with her… She wondered if her youngest daughter ever intended to tell her boyfriend the truth about their nephew’s identity, or not.
Erik wondered the same thing. He didn’t know what Amber’s hesitation was, but until she was ready to tell him, he would continue to play along.
Either that, or her sister would make it abundantly clear upon her return!
“What’s so funny?” Amber wondered.
“Nothing, nothing at all,” Erik declared, assuming a serious expression. “I’m just very glad to be here with you.”
“That makes two of us,” she replied, with a tired sigh.
“I should get you home,” Erik said sympathetically.
“Here, I’ll take him,” Amber’s mom offered, as she rose from her place on the loveseat. She reached for her grandson, and Amber handed him off without waking him.
“We’ve got church in the morning,” her dad reminded the room at large, as he joined his wife. “Try not to get into any trouble between now and then.”
“I think we’ve already filled our quota for this week, and then some,” Erik replied honestly.
“The mystery’s been solved and the perpetrator apprehended,” her mom reasoned. “How much more trouble could they possibly get into, anyway?”
“None that I can imagine,” Erik agreed. “I intend to keep it that way.”
“Amen to that,” Amber said with feeling.
ROB woke to the wind’s faint wail. It sounded far away, and far removed from the guest room at the lodge, where he lay recuperating. He puzzled over that, as he gingerly felt the side of his face.
Disengaged (Terms of Engagement Book 3) Page 48
