by Tori Scott
Maybe if he asked his dad to take him to the cabin for a father-son weekend, he could get his dad there. And if he called Sandy's mother, could she get Sandy to go? He went into his room and quietly closed the door. He picked up the phone and dialed information for the number, then made his call.
When Lillian answered, he quickly explained his idea. "Do you think you can get Sandy up there, Mrs. Castleman?"
"I don't know, Jason, but I can sure try. I've already stocked the cabin with food and everything else they'd need. You go talk to your dad, then call me back and let me know what he says. I'll talk to Jack and see what we can do."
"Thank you, Mrs. Castleman," Jason replied with sincere gratitude.
"Call me Grandma, Jason. We'll have faith that it'll be true soon."
Jason felt a strange flutter in his chest. His voice broke as he said, "All right. Grandma." He sat for a moment after he hung up the phone, his chest tight. He already had two grandmothers, one full of laughter and love, the other hovering and overwhelming. But Lillian's acceptance of him as one of her family meant the world to him.
He left his room in search of Hunter. When he finally found him in the driveway unloading the Tahoe, he hurried over and said, "Dad? Do you think maybe, well, that you and I could go to the cabin instead? Go fishing and hiking or something?"
Hunter stopped what he was doing. "I don't know, son. The cabin belongs to Sandy's parents. How did you know about it, anyway?"
"I overheard you talking to Sandy about it. Anyway, I was thinking maybe you and I could go, spend some time together, maybe talk about things--like about Mom. You know."
This was what Hunter had been waiting for. For his son to finally open up about his mother and what he'd gone through. He didn't dare pass up an opportunity like this. But would the Castleman's still let him use the cabin after the fight between him and Sandy? The only way to find out was to ask. He put the sack he was holding back into the truck.
"Let's go call and ask. If we can't use theirs, maybe we could find one to rent."
"Oh, uh. Let me call them, just in case, uh, in case Sandy answers the phone. That's probably where she went, don't you think?"
His son was probably right. Hunter knew she'd left soon after their argument, and that was the most likely place for her to run to. "Okay, you go call. But be polite." He chuckled when Jason rolled his eyes, then sprinted into the house. The kid sure was excited about the idea. If he'd known a fishing trip would please Jason so much, he would have suggested it himself months ago.
Back in his room, Jason quickly dialed Lillian's number. "Grandma?" he asked when she answered. "Dad was easy. He's already agreed to go, and I'm going to get him to go tonight, because we need some time to talk. But try to bring Sandy in the morning."
"We'll do our best, Jason. Your dad has directions to the cabin, and instructions on where to find everything. But how are you going to get either of them to stay when they find out the other one is there?"
Jason outlined the plan he'd conceived and Lillian laughed delightedly. "You have a devious mind, young man. I like the way you think. So, what time do you want us there?"
"About eight? Then I'll meet you at the end of the road after you drop her off and follow you back to Tyler. Does that sound okay?"
"Sounds perfect. We'll see you tomorrow, one way or the other. Good luck."
"Thanks. I have a feeling I'm going to need it." Jason hung up and raced outside. He went to Hunter, told him the Castleman's had given them permission to use the cabin, and begged to leave right then. Hunter shrugged. "Sure. Why not? We don't have anything better to do. Go pack your duffle bag, and don't forget your toothbrush. And grab a deck of cards and a board game or two. I'll get the fishing poles and tackle box."
***
"You want to do what?" Sandy exclaimed, barely believing what she was hearing.
"Your father and I want to take Melanie up to the cabin for the day. It's already clean and stocked with food. Jack wants to teach Melanie to fish."
"Fine. The three of you can go, and I'll stay here." Sandy didn't need any reminders of what she was supposed to be doing this weekend. Seeing the cabin would only intensify the desperate feelings of loss that threatened to overwhelm her.
"Sandy, we need you to go with us. Melanie doesn't know us that well yet. Taking her off into the woods might scare her if you aren't with her. Besides, it'll do you good. You know how peaceful it is out there," Lillian said with a casual shrug. "It'll be fun, just like when you were a kid."
Sandy remembered weekends when she and her siblings had run wild through the woods, finding pine cones and feathers, rocks and arrowheads to add to their collections. It was one of the few times her father relaxed enough to let them be children. Maybe because there were no parishioners around to judge their behavior.
And it had been fun. She knew Melanie would love it. Throwing up her hands in defeat, she said. "Okay. You win. But we can't stay too late. Dad has to get ready for his Sunday sermon, and if Melanie stays up past her bedtime she won't behave during services. What time do you want to leave?"
Lillian smiled and said, "About seven. That way we can have a full day and still get home early."
Sandy groaned. She'd been looking forward to sleeping late tomorrow, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen. "Fine. Wake me up at six."
***
During the long drive to East Texas, Hunter thought about his fight with Sandy, about where he'd been wrong and where he still thought he was right. He knew he had a legitimate concern about Sandy transferring her own fears to her daughter. Certainly Liz had tried to do that to Jason. Hunter still didn't know how successful she'd been. Until his son shared his thoughts with him, he couldn't be sure. Hopefully, the boy had been strong enough to let most of it slide off.
Jason was quiet during most of the trip, content to listen to the radio and stare out the window. When they reached Tyler, though, he insisted they stop and eat. Hunter was anxious to get to the cabin, so they compromised on take-out barbecue sandwiches, French fries, and chocolate milkshakes.
It was pitch dark by the time Hunter found the turnoff to the cabin. Tall pine trees blocked the faint moonlight and cast eerie shadows where his headlights faded into the forest. He wasn't surprised when a deer bounded across the road in front of them. He braked to avoid a collision, but didn't swerve, knowing that crashing into the trees would be worse than hitting the deer. The animal skittered into the opposite line of trees before the Tahoe reached him and Hunter breathed a sigh of relief. His insurance company might frown on having to repair the truck again so soon.
Ten miles from the main highway, they reached the last turn that would take them to the cabin. Hunter hadn't seen another car in at least ten minutes, and the last town had been more than fifteen miles back. They hadn't passed a house since the first turnoff. Sandy hadn't been kidding when she'd said it was remote.
Jason was sitting forward in his seat when they rounded the last bend, looking a little apprehensive. Hunter was getting a little nervous himself. Who knew what kind of animals, or even criminals, lurked in these dense woods? He hadn't thought to bring a gun with him, though he wished now that he had.
The cabin was a pleasant surprise when it finally came into view. Rather than the ramshackle structure Hunter had begun to expect, it was an A-frame covered with cedar shingles, with tall glass windows making up most of the front. A large area around the cabin had been cleared, so it didn't feel as closed in as it had along the road.
The drive ran around to the back, so Hunter followed the path and parked behind the building. Here again, a number of trees had been cleared for a yard of sorts. When he opened the truck door, he could hear the splash of water in the distance.
Must be the Neches river, he thought. He sure hoped the fish would be biting in the morning. There was nothing like a quiet morning by the river to stimulate confessions, and catching a few nice trout would add to the camaraderie.
Hunter assigned
Jason the task of unloading the vehicle while he went to the side of the house where Lillian had said the breaker box was located. Using a flashlight, he found it and flipped the switches. Lights came on inside the house, as well as floodlights on the outside. Much better. The light helped dispel the feeling of isolation that had crept over him.
He found the well right where Lillian said it was, too, and flipped the pump switch, priming it as he'd been instructed. All that was left to do now was to find the key, finish carrying in the supplies, and then sack out. There were beds, but even a cot or a sleeping bag on the ground sounded good right now.
Jason had spent the drive to the cabin thinking about what he would say to his dad. He'd talked it through with his counselor and realized that it wasn't his dad's fault that he'd had to carry the responsibility for his mother's emotional health. He knew now that if he'd told his father what was going on, his dad would have made sure his mother got help.
But talking to a counselor about it was different from talking to his father. She was separated from the problem, could see it from an unemotional standpoint. Jason knew that wouldn't be the case with his dad. But he'd used talking as an excuse to get them here, so he had to follow through with it, or else his father would get suspicious. It was time, anyway. Way past time.
Once they'd put their things away, they took a quick tour of the cabin, which was built on two levels. The downstairs consisted of a living room, eating area, kitchen, bathroom, and master bedroom. The loft contained two more small bedrooms and a tiny bathroom. The walls were built of rough cedar and the floor was made of pine planks covered with braided rugs in blue, yellow and red.
A pot-bellied stove stood between the kitchen and living room, ready to provide warmth on cool evenings. Jason was fascinated by the hand-carved furniture covered in rawhide and the coffee table made from a piece of large tree trunk smoothed and polished to a high gloss.
"Pretty cool place, huh, Dad?
"Much nicer than I expected, although not exactly what I'd call a fishing cabin. I think you had a great idea here, son."
"Yeah, me too. You want to play a few hands of gin rummy?"
Hunter looked at his son's eager expression and almost groaned. He'd really like to go to bed, but he figured he could hold out through two or three hands. "Sure. You get the cards and I'll find the cold drinks."
During the second hand of cards, Jason started to talk. At first it was a general 'remember when' conversation about Little League Games Hunter had managed to see, and ones he'd missed. Then missed birthdays, Christmases, and Fourth of Julys. Jason's voice grew wistful as he talked about the school play in which he'd had a leading part, something else Hunter had missed.
"Gin," Hunter said, laying down his cards. He looked at Jason. "Son, I'm really sorry I missed so much of your growing up. I thought I was doing the right thing, defending my country, helping to get our men out from behind enemy lines. But as I look back, I think it was more about me--what I needed, what I wanted. In the field, I had men who were my equals in every way, and yet they looked to me for leadership. If I'd stayed home, I would've had Liz clinging to me, hanging on me constantly. I thought if she had to take care of herself, she might grow up, get stronger. But that never happened, did it?"
Jason shook his head, his voice husky when he said, "No. She just got worse. She was better when you were home, but as soon as you left again she'd start crying. Sometimes she'd cry for days, never getting out of bed, taking pills to calm down, then more to go to sleep. I had to set the alarm clock so I could get up for school, get myself ready, fix breakfast for me and Mom. When I came home I cleaned house and fixed supper, if there was enough food in the house. I had to make Mom get dressed and take me to the store once a week."
Hunter thought he was going to be sick. No wonder Jason had hated him. He could only be thankful that his son seemed to be getting past the anger. "Why didn't you tell me about this when you were going through it? Or your grandparents? We might have been able to do something. Gotten her some help, found you someplace else to stay. I could've quit the Air Force sooner."
Jason shrugged and said, "Because every time she got a letter saying you'd be home soon, she perked back up. She'd get all excited and happy, start taking care of me again instead of the other way around. By the time you got there, everything seemed okay. I guess each time I hoped it would last. Then I felt guilty when it didn't."
"Son, listen to me. None of your mother's problems were your fault. And I don't think they were mine. It sounds like she was sick. I just wasn't around enough to notice."
Jason nodded. "That's what the counselor told me. That she was most likely bi-polar. She says the only thing that could've helped Mom was getting on the right medication. But Mom wouldn't go to the doctor, you know that. You told her to go the last time you were home before she died. She wouldn't, until she was finally in so much pain she needed pills to get through it. By then, it was too late."
Hunter pressed his hand against his eyes to force back the tears that threatened. "God, I'm so sorry. There's no way I can make up for what you went through. All I can do is promise you that I'm here to stay. And for what it's worth, I think you did a hell of a job for a kid. Or for a grown man. I would be proud to have you on my team any time."
Jason ducked his head, but not before Hunter saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes. He said, "Thanks, Dad. It's worth a lot."
***
Sandy tossed and turned most of the night, unable to sleep with thoughts of Hunter running through her head like the scenes of a play. The day they met, the days in the hospital when he took care of her and entertained Melanie, their first date. When thoughts of their second date tried to surface, Sandy forced them back. She didn't want to remember something so exquisite only to realize she'd never experience it again.
But the harder she'd tried to keep the memories at bay, the more they flooded in. The dance, the kiss, the magnificent male body looming above her. Goose bumps broke over her flesh with a shiver of glowing recollection of the slow, tortuous path his hands and mouth had taken across her naked flesh. Heat suffused her at the image of his mouth on her, invading places that had never felt such pleasure, and she writhed with renewed desire.
Frustrated, she threw the covers back and rose quietly, not wanting to awaken Melanie. She crossed to the window and pulled the curtain back, looking out on the moonlit front yard. Her gaze fastened on the driveway and her thoughts filtered back to the day her mother had talked about earlier. The day she'd broken her wrist into several pieces.
She'd been eight years old. It was a glorious Texas spring day, the kind a child couldn't resist enjoying to the fullest. She and Denise had new roller skates, and they'd practiced for a while on the back patio until they felt confident enough to tackle the driveway. The first few runs down the slight slope had gone without a hitch. Then she'd hit a small rock and her wheels stopped but her momentum had carried her forward, off-balance, into the street.
She'd heard the snap of bone, but the memory of pain was fleeting. It really hadn't hurt that much at first. What she remembered most was the overwhelming feeling that she was going to throw up. Her mother had been frantic, unable to reach Jack at the church office and unsure what he would want her to do. Finally, she'd called the doctor and followed his instructions.
Sandy could remember her mother crying all the way to the emergency room, muttering about throwing away the 'dad-blasted' skates--the closest to swearing she ever remembered hearing from her mother. She'd cried, too. Not from pain or fear, but at the thought of losing her brand new skates.
She perused the darkness as she tried to gather her scattered thoughts. Her mother's voice echoed in her ears. Where are you going to draw the line? Will you let her learn to ride a bicycle? Drive a car? Go out on a date? Get married? Sandy wanted to answer with a resounding 'No!' but knew she couldn't deny her daughter the joy of learning, the joy of living. Because to deny her those things would be to deny her life, and lo
ve.
As much as she would like to keep her daughter safe, she wanted her happiness more. The most enjoyable periods of Sandy's life were those times she'd been able to stretch her wings and fly. Looking back, it seemed there had been far too few opportunities to soar without limits. Her own fears had replaced her parents' cautions. And now she was using that fear to limit her daughter's adventures.
But could she let go? Did she have the capacity to stand back and let Melanie fall, waiting only to pick her up and set her back on her feet? Was she weak, as Hunter had suggested? Or was she strong, as she had once believed herself to be? The questions careened through her mind, running together until her head began to spin.
She wandered the room restlessly as the war of emotions raged within her. She wanted safety for her daughter. And yet she wanted Melanie to be strong, independent and self-confident. Did those things have to be at cross-purposes? There had to be some way to have it all.
Still confused, her emotions still unsettled, Sandy returned to her bed and tried to sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was three o'clock in the morning before Hunter finally crawled into bed. Jason had talked for hours, the words rushing out once the dam had broken. He and his son had laughed and cried together over old memories. It was one of the best, and worst, nights of his life.
As he pulled his clothes off and tossed them on a chair, he sincerely hoped his son planned to sleep late. As tired as Hunter was the fish would just have to wait until lunch time to get the worms he'd packed in the tackle box. He lay down with a groan, afraid he wouldn't be able to sleep with all the emotions he'd gone through in the last twelve hours. But within seconds he was dead to the world.
Jason set his small travel alarm for six so he could be up and gone before Hunter woke up or Sandy and the Castlemans arrived. When it rang the next morning, he shut it off quickly and managed to drag himself out of bed.
