Home for Good

by Jessica Keller

  She pulled away, her head in her hands. “Someone did it on purpose? Killed Denny? Why?” Her voice caught.

  Jericho wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his side. “Yes. I’m so sorry. Someone killed him—someone who’s around this ranch from time to time, who has the kind of pull around town to get his hands on strong experimental medicine.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ali scanned the Blodgett Canyon, pulled in by its beauty. Even after a last-minute attempt to beg off joining the boys on the camping trip, one look up the wooded trail told her a hike would slough away her worries more effectively than staying at home would have. At least Kate wasn’t home alone; thankfully Megan had volunteered to stay with her.

  “I’m just saying, this doesn’t seem like enough stuff.” Jericho pulled the last of the three backpacks from the truck bed, looping the largest over his shoulders.

  “You’re the one who told me not to pack any dinner.” She bent, adjusting the itchy string of bells Jericho had forced her and Chance to tie around their ankles before exiting the truck. “Seriously, these bells are overkill.”

  Chance danced around, jingling like a Christmas elf.

  Jericho grinned. “They’ll ward off wildlife. You know that. Lions and bears.”

  “And tigers, oh, my.” Ali stood and adjusted the straps to her backpack.

  With a laugh, Jericho tilted his head toward the mountains. “No tigers in these parts that I’m aware of, but plenty of other dangerous critters.”

  “Right, with all the rabid carnivores we’ll encounter on our hike in broad daylight.” She rolled her eyes.

  “When the huckleberries ripen late like they did this year, we could run into a black bear or two. Why take the risk?”

  Chance grabbed a bag from Jericho’s grasp. “But they’re scratchy.”

  Jericho tweaked Chance’s nose. “Then you, my boy, should have worn longer socks.”

  Ali took the bundle out of Chance’s hands. “I still think you should have let me pack more food.”

  Jericho’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding? Why lug a bunch of weight when the streams are bursting with rainbow trout?”

  “I don’t know how to fish.” Chance latched on to Jericho’s hand with his cast-free one.

  He patted her son’s head before adjusting his pack. “That’s because I know your mom is secretly afraid of fish. She won’t even swim in a lake because she thinks they might bite her.”

  Chance giggled.

  “You know I can hear you, right?” Ali pushed back her hair, a line of perspiration already dribbling down her back.

  Jericho winked at her over his shoulder. “You just stick by me, Chance. I spent most of my weekends growing up in these mountains.”

  She kicked a small rock on the path, and it rocketed into the field. “It wasn’t that they would bite me. I don’t like when they get too friendly and rub their slimy fish bodies against me.”

  “And how many times have you had that happen to you?” At least he had the decency to hide his wicked smirk behind his hand.

  “Lake Como. You were there. Once was enough.”

  The tall grasses surrounding the entrance to the path popped with the color of wildflowers. The buzz of bees filled the air. Following Chance’s excited but inexperienced pace, they completed the short stint through the densely packed forest on the trail. The damage from the great fire, more than ten years ago, still showed dominance with charred trees, many felled, poking out through the glasslike surface of Blodgett Creek. She remembered the terror of the days the fire ripped across the Bitterroot Range, flames licking the night sky and making national news. Such destruction, and it still had a deep hold on this land. Yet new growth flourished, green sprouting out among the ashes.

  The resilience of the mountains made her wonder if she too could rise through the ruins, or if that kind of rebirth remained reserved for nature alone.

  Her eyes trailed over to Jericho. Did he remember she used to think the jeans and crisp, white T-shirt he donned was the most attractive outfit any man could wear? With two days’ worth of soft cocoa-colored stubble on his jaw, he knew that drove her crazy in a good way. Aggravating man.

  Midway through the climb, as the creek narrowed, the trail became talus with large, loose, shaky rocks.

  Ali wobbled on a ledge. “This is getting steep quicker than I remember.”

  Jericho reached out to steady her, taking her hand to guide her over a treacherous lean of boulders. “Want me to carry your pack for you?”

  She shook her head.

  Chance puffed beside them, hands on his knees. His face flushed. “You can carry my stuff.”

  Jericho patted his head. “Naw, you’re strong. If I remember right, there’s a waterfall just up the bend here that we can rest by.”

  Chance pouted. “I don’t think I like hiking anymore.”

  Jericho laughed. “Here. I’ll take your bag, but then I need you to keep an eye out for any little sticks you see because we’ll have to find some kindling along the way. Does that sound fair?”

  Chance’s shoulders slumped. “How big do the sticks have to be?”

  Jericho held his thumb and pointer finger a couple inches apart. “Just like this. Not big at all. We won’t have a fire for dinner tonight without kindling. See, it’s sometimes the really small stuff that’s the most important.”

  Chance jabbed a finger into his own chest. “Like me? I’m small.”

  Jericho squeezed his shoulders. “Like you. You’re really important to both of us. We wouldn’t be camping if you hadn’t wanted to go, right?”

  Chance looked up for a moment, shielding his eyes with his casted arm. “Okay. So how long until the waterfall?”

  “Five, maybe ten more minutes.” Jericho shrugged.

  When Chance bounded ahead, Jericho tried to stand, but stumbled a little. He winced. Ali caught his arm. He used her as leverage to get to his feet.

  “Is your leg hurt?”

  He smiled. “No more than usual.”

  They trudged side by side until a cool mist settled on Ali’s hair. “Wait. There really is a waterfall?”

  “’Course. Why would I lie to him?”

  “I don’t know. To get him off your back. To stop him from asking questions. People give kids false promises all the time.”

  “Not me.”

  Chance jogged back. “Hey, Mom. There’s a stream. Can I go in the stream?”

  “Let’s make sure your bells are tight.” Jericho leaned over and adjusted his bells, which proved a difficult task with Chance wiggling so much. When the boy’s bells were secure, Jericho turned and grabbed Ali’s foot. “Let’s make sure your string’s on good, too.”

  She set her foot on his thigh while he adjusted her bells. “Wow, thanks. Sure wouldn’t want those beauties to go anywhere.”

  He stood. He shook his head at her, but the crinkles around his eyes betrayed that he fought a smile. “While we’re at it, my little sass-mouth, let’s make sure everyone drinks a lot of water when we’re resting.”

  As the afternoon sun baked the backs of their necks, the troop struggled up the long, steep pitch. Jericho continued to encourage them along and asked often if Ali or Chance needed anything. When the sun began its plunge into the western sky, Jericho deemed a small piece of land where the rock met the forest the ideal spot for camping.

  “Watch those cliffs for mountain lions, okay buddy? That’s your job right now.”

  “And if I see one, jingle my bells, right?” With his back to Jericho, Chance kept his gaze on the granite cliffs.

  Pulling the three-man tent from her bag, Ali hid her grin. The probability of a lion waltzing around on the craggy canyon walls before nightfall rivaled that of an African elephant plodding up
to their campsite and asking for a cup of tea. After dusk could be a different story, but then a roaring fire in the rock pit that Jericho constructed would keep animals away.

  Jericho took the tent from her and limped over to the small clearing. As he pulled out the wrapped canvas, his brows drew together. “This thing’s as thin as a fly’s wing.”

  “It’s ancient. That’s Dad’s old tent. I had to dig around in the maintenance barn to find it.”

  “Where’s the ground sheet?”

  She set aside the frying pan and mugs. “I didn’t bring one.”

  “I don’t see a rain tarp in here, either.”

  “It’s pretty sunny.”

  He stood. His mouth pulled into a grim line as he rubbed his forehead. “You didn’t bring one? The weather changes here every ten minutes. C’mon, Ali.”

  His tone propelled her to her feet. “You said pack light!”

  Hands tossed in the air, he rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t mean don’t bring essentials. What are we going to do if those clouds let loose? There isn’t shelter for miles.” He thrust a hand toward the ominous sky cover rolling across the mountains.

  Ali gulped. “It’ll miss us.” Feigning nonchalance, she resumed unpacking her bag.

  “Sure hope so, or else we’re all gonna get a good soaking.”

  “Oh, drop it already and put up the tent. Or put it aside and I’ll take care of it.”

  Leaving his mountain lion patrol post, Chance joined them, with a pink bitterroot flower that looked a little like a water lily cupped in his hand. “You two sound just like Mark’s parents.”

  Heat spread up her neck. Ali pretended not to hear.

  “That blush looks good on you, Ali.” The tease thickened Jericho’s voice. He went about setting up the small tent, a task that took him a total of six minutes. Chance offered unneeded instruction, but said he couldn’t help because of his cast.

  “You know the story behind that flower you’re holding?” Jericho asked Chance.

  “Yes. The mountains are named because there are lots of these.”

  “Well, there’s more to it than that. Why don’t you ask your mom to tell you the story? Then you and I can go catch some dinner.”

  “Mom? Do you know why this is called a bitterroot?” Chance crossed their makeshift campsite and plunked the flower into her hands.

  Ali cradled the deep pink petals against her palm. They were too beautiful for such a terrible name.

  “If I remember right, they were called something else, but then when Lewis and Clark came to explore this area, the Shoshone Indians cooked up some of the roots and Lewis and Clark spit it out, saying the food tasted bitter to eat.”

  Jericho joined them and spoke in a low voice. “To the Shoshone Tribe, the bitterroot flowers were a delicacy. They were honoring Lewis and Clark by feeding them the root, but the explorers didn’t understand. The Shoshones valued the flowers because they were a source of nourishment, but the same exact thing made Lewis and Clark gag. Kind of interesting how people can experience the same thing and yet view the outcome so differently.”

  As the sun dipped below the horizon, they spent the waning hours around the fire. The smell of cooked fish permeated the air as Jericho told stories that had Chance giggling until bedtime.

  * * *

  The evening air, spiced with the sweet hint of paintbrush flowers and blue beardtongue, drifted over where Jericho lay. The trace of a fresh rain smell worried him. He bunched an arm under his head like a pillow. A night spent on the hard-packed ground would cause him pain tomorrow, but Ali wouldn’t welcome him in the tent. When the first couple drops of rain hit his face, he didn’t have much of a choice.

  Crawling, he bit back a howl as his left knee wrenched the wrong way. The hike up proved more difficult than he’d realized. Jericho sighed. What else in his life would he have to eventually give up because of his injury?

  The zipper on the tent stuck, and he had to play with it a moment before scooting inside. He fumbled in the absence of starlight, but a quick perusal showed Ali lying on the left side with Chance in the middle. Jericho shuffled to the boy’s other side.

  “What are you doing?” Ali’s voice came out as a demanding whisper.

  “It’s raining outside.”

  Ali took a loud, deep breath. She rolled onto her other side, her nose probably touching the tent wall. Jericho gently moved Chance over a bit, then edged into the foot of space along the canvas wall. The light pitter-patter of rain sprinkled against the sides.

  Ali’s hushed voice jolted his eyes open a moment later. “’Fess up.”

  “Come again?”

  “What’s wrong with your legs? You’ve been limping like a cowboy straight off a cattle drive all day. Tell me straight, or sleep outside.”

  Licking his lips, he considered a lie. But at some point she would have to know the truth, and a lie now would only make things worse. “I got hurt while stationed overseas.” It was easier confessing it quietly into the darkness of the tent than having to look at her.

  “Got hurt?” Her voice went up a notch.

  “I was on a mission, and we heard someone calling for help in a building. So I went in with some of the guys from the unit. As we searched the third level, a suicide bomber ran into the ground level.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “We had seconds before the place exploded. It happened so quickly. I lit for one of the windows and jumped to the ground. Landed on my feet and ran to safety. Shouldn’t have been able to do it. Guess it was the adrenaline and all. We lost the rest of the guys in the blast.” He paused, choking back the emotions that surfaced every time he thought about his dead friends.

  Silence hung between them.

  “But you...you weren’t hurt?” Her voice cracked.

  “God only knows how I got back to base. I reported what happened. But then the pain hit me, made me double over. I collapsed and woke up the next day in a dusty army hospital, both of my knees swollen to the size of basketballs.”

  “Broken?”

  “No, just ruined for good.”

  “What exactly does that mean? For good?”

  He shrugged. “Means I’m not what I once was. I’ll have to have knee replacements on both legs before long. And even after that, my legs will never be what they once were.”

  “Then you’re not ever going back?”

  “No. My army career ended that day, and as I realized that while lying in the hospital bed, I almost gave up. They thought they’d lose me to pure dehydration and depression because I wouldn’t touch anything. I nearly died during recovery. But the one thing that kept me going—the single thought that gave me any hope—was you.”

  The pitter-patter of rain became a rattling, full-out bucket-toss against the tent.

  He exhaled. “I had all this time to think over everything that had happened between us. I just wanted to come home and be with you. Each night I dreamed, picturing you running to me when you saw me for the first time. Wishful thinking.” He chuckled.

  She snorted. “Instead I ran away from you. Sorry about that.”

  “You gave an honest reaction. I see now, more than ever, how much I deserved your censure. What kind of creep walks out on his wife?”

  “Jericho—”

  His voice hardened. “If you let me, I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

  “I’m just sorry. Sorry you had to go through all that to become the man you are now. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough, as your wife, to help you through everything.” Her voice caught, and in the closed-in area he could sense her shoulders shaking with tears. He reached out, draping his arm over Chance, who moved a bit. His little feet dug into Jericho’s side. Jericho shifted, then ran his hand up and down Ali’s exposed arm.

 
“Shhh. Don’t say that, honey. You were everything I needed, and I was too blind and lost to know it. You were faithful and marched around my walls, trying to tear them down, trying to get inside to reach me. But just like my namesake, I was too stubborn. It took a lot of horrible things to make my walls crumble from the inside out. It was the only way.”

  “I forgive you.” He barely heard her muffled words. Heart jackhammering against his chest, Jericho squeezed her arm, then left his hand lying on her shoulder as he fell asleep.

  * * *

  “Nooooo!”

  A frightening wail woke him. Jericho bolted up, smacking his head against the low side of the tent and sending a rush of water through the canvas in the process.

  “Mom-maa-aaa-aa!” Chance lurched as a crash of thunder shook the ground.

  Jericho’s skin prickled. He scooped up the boy and rocked him against his chest as Ali sat up, looking at Jericho with wide eyes.

  “Hey buddy, we’re here.” She pushed out of her sleeping bag and laid a hand on the child’s arm.

  Chance twisted away from Jericho, wrapping his arms around his mother’s neck.

  The cracks of lightning made it possible for Jericho to assess their damages. Water flooded the bottom of the tent, and the triangular top threatened to cave under the sag of water at any moment. The trees surrounding the area made their campground unsafe to ride out a storm. They couldn’t stay here.

  A rumble shook more rain onto them.

  “We’re going to die! I hate camping. We’re all going to die!” Chance sobbed into Ali’s neck as she ran her hands over his hair, trying to soothe him. Jericho felt helpless to deal with the howling boy, but he could go find them a safer location. He inched toward the door. Chance’s small hand sprang out and stopped him.

  “Don’t go. Don’t leave us here alone.”

  Jericho’s heart poured out with love for him. Everything inside him wanted to go and take both his wife and her son in his arms. He wanted to form a shelter around them that nothing could break apart. Meeting Ali’s eyes, his heart seized, because written there he found Chance’s same plea: Don’t leave us.