Wild Ice

by Rachelle Vaughn

  A marsh wren sang from its perch between the cattails before dipping back into the cover of thick vegetation. A flock of tree swallows glided gracefully across the sky. Up ahead she saw the ears of a black-tailed deer bobbing up and down in the tall reeds as he fled her approach. Although the refuge was managed mainly for waterfowl, it also supported a diversity of wildlife.

  A few feet up the trail, a twig snapped behind her. Slowly, Lauren turned around, not sure what she’d find. It wasn’t uncommon to see deer and jackrabbits grazing in the grasslands and on the edges of the wetlands.

  Lauren held her breath and scanned the trail behind her. Suddenly, a giant yellow dog bounded through the brush and Lauren gasped in surprise. A dog was the last thing she’d expected to see way out here.

  The dog licked her hand and looked up at her as if to ask “Where are we going, Boss?”

  “Well, hello there,” she greeted the overly friendly canine.

  His thick tail wagged and his pink tongue lolled out of his smiling mouth.

  “Have you been following me?”

  He whined his answer and she patted him on the head. “Who do you belong to, Buddy?”

  She waited and listened for his owner to come walking down the path behind him, but no one came. The public walking trails at the refuge were on the other side of the creek and a fence separated the wetlands from the mansion and cottage.

  Lauren bent down and checked the dog for ID, but the leather collar around his neck didn’t have a tag on it. Hmmm. He didn’t look like a stray. In fact, he looked well taken care of and extremely well fed.

  “You should go back home,” she told him. “Someone is probably looking for you.” She didn’t know who though. There wasn’t another house for miles and it was at least a forty-five minute walk to the refuge welcome center from here.

  The dog sat down on his rump and she laughed at his defiance. “Okay, well, I guess you can tag along as long as you don’t scare the birds away.”

  He stood up and nuzzled her hand with his nose.

  “You have to be very, very quiet,” she said softly and his ears perked up to listen.

  Lauren had never had a dog before, but this one seemed eager to please and willing to share an adventure with her. So, she continued down the trail with the dog trotting happily next to her.

  Up ahead, the creek gurgled where it flowed over some rocks and Lauren knew this was the place she’d been hoping to find. Aunt Cora used to take her here to watch the egrets fish.

  The dog’s velvety ears pricked up and he stared intently ahead.

  “Be very still, Buddy,” Lauren whispered. Even the slightest movement would scare an egret away.

  Obediently, the dog waited until she took a step and then he took a step forward too. Slowly and cautiously, they approached the mini waterfall at the creek. Lauren peered through the trees and immediately saw the white feathers of a great egret. “There he is,” she said softly.

  Buddy let out a little whine and she put her finger to her lips. “Ssh. We don’t want to scare him away. He’s fishing,” she explained.

  The great egret waded through the water, foraging for aquatic insects and snails, and Lauren was able to snap a few pictures before it flew away.

  “Good boy!” she told Buddy when the egret was gone. The dog had sat next to her without moving a muscle the entire time.

  The friendly dog turned out to be an excellent birding companion. He was quiet and mellow enough not to scare away the birds. He was also very obedient and stayed still when she told him to and was a surprisingly good listener.

  When Lauren started back toward the cottage, Buddy took off down the trail in front of her and disappeared. When she turned west and came out into the clearing, he was nowhere to be seen. Lauren looked around and scanned the tall grass for movement.

  Nothing. Huh. He must have decided to head home after all.

  Lauren continued down the trail and couldn’t help but notice how lonely it was without him.

  * * *

  JD woke up with an overwhelming sense of panic. Pressure in his chest squeezed until he had to fight to take a breath. His worst fears had indeed come to fruition. Darla was gone and she was never coming back.

  He looked around and was surprised to find himself in bed. Late last night he must have given up on falling asleep in the recliner and climbed upstairs without thinking about the consequences.

  Before JD made the move to Teal Manor, Darla had been alive and well in his dreams. When he drifted off into a restless sleep, he dreamt of her. She was always waiting in his subconscious, hair long and flowing again and eyes clear and bright. He saw her as she used to be, before cancer had stolen her from him. Most of the time, the dreams didn’t make sense, but at least she was there with him, if only for a short time.

  Now the dreams were gone and JD just had flashbacks of their time together. Flashbacks that were triggered by random things and felt too real for comfort. Several months ago, when JD cut himself shaving, he had a flashback of a time when he’d cut himself when Darla was still alive. He could hear her breathing, smell her perfume and feel the warmth of her body behind him. It felt like she was right there in the bathroom with him and it took him days to shake off the eerie feeling. Now he only shaved when the scratchiness of stubble bothered him and forced him to pick up a razor. Then there was the time when Mel’s tail almost knocked over a vase in the entryway. It instantly reminded JD of a time when Mel was a puppy and his tail knocked over Darla’s expensive vase. She’d pretended to be mad at him for days. But she wasn’t here now. It was just his mind playing tricks on him.

  Last night, JD must have left the light on inside the closet because the flashback hit him square in the chest, transporting him into the past again…

  JD tossed and turned in bed. The sheets tangled around his legs and it felt like he was being pulled under by an invisible riptide. He came awake with a start and found the bed empty. The 1200 thread count sheets felt hot and scratchy on his skin. There was light beyond his closed eyelids and he blinked them open and squinted. The light came from the adjacent walk-in closet.

  “Darla?” he called out. She was too weak and frail to be out of bed, but she didn’t care. She was on a mission to make her last days count.

  JD kicked free of the suffocating sheets and stumbled out of bed. Wearing only his boxers, he padded on bare feet toward the stream of light.

  Darla’s closet was the kind of closet that would bring Carrie Bradshaw to her knees. Custom shelving, designer clothes, handbags, shoes and accessories organized to perfection. A glittery crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, a velvet chaise lounge sat in the corner. The closet smelled like a mix of leather and Darla’s expensive perfume. JD’s wardrobe hung on one wall, paltry in comparison to his wife’s. Even though she’d bought him suits and shirts and enough shoes to clothe an army, it still paled in comparison to her extensive designer wardrobe. Between the two of them, they were the best dressed couple in the United National Hockey League and that suited him just fine.

  They’d bought their dream home in Red Valley—complete with a dream closet—in hopes of one day filling it with children…

  JD shook away the thought and walked into the closet where Darla sat hunched over her shoes. He went to her and gently laid his hands on her bony shoulders. Watching her wither away was excruciating. She’d become so frail and shaky that JD was afraid to touch her most of the time. Her skin was cold through the thin silk robe she wore. She was always cold nowadays. The radiation treatments sucked the warmth and life right out of her.

  JD grabbed a furry throw blanket from the nearby chaise lounge and wrapped it around her. “Darla, honey, what are you doing?” he asked gently.

  “Going through my closet,” she answered, her voice barely a whisper. She looked up at him and her red-rimmed eyes were tired and glassy from the cocktail of medications she took every day to manage the pain.

  Carefully, he pulled her to her feet. She was so
brittle, he was afraid he’d break her every time he touched her. He pulled her close, offering his body heat to warm her, but she pushed away. The throw fell from her shoulders leaving the robe to hang on her skeleton-like frame.

  The designer scarf on her head slid down, revealing her fuzzy, bald head. She was too proud to go without it, even in front of her husband at two o’clock in the morning. She’d gone from a standing appointment at the salon every six weeks to…to this.

  JD still thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Even as the chemo and the cancer battled each other inside her cells, she was as beautiful as the day he proposed to her five years ago. When she lost her hair from the chemo, if anything, she became even more beautiful to him. It wasn’t her hair that attracted him to her all these years, it was the woman. JD’s own hair had gained him the nickname Hollywood, but he promptly shaved it all off as a tribute to Darla’s bravery.

  Darla pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and shoved it at JD. Her once elegant handwriting scribbled illegibly across the monogrammed stationery. “I need to make sure my things are given to the right people.”

  JD opened his mouth to speak, but Darla kept talking. “I want Sloan to have my jewelry and shoes. The ruby necklace should go to my cousin in Seattle. And the women’s shelter should get my clothes. Except for the blue gown,” she said thoughtfully. “Sloan will want that one. On second thought, she’ll probably want all of the dresses. Oh…my wedding dress. What will happen to my wedding dress?” she choked out.

  JD went to put his arms around her, but she held one hand up and clamped the other one over her mouth. When Darla’s strength wavered, she resorted to stubbornness.

  He ran his hand over his shaved head. “Baby, come back to bed. Please,” he pleaded. “You need your rest.”

  “I don’t want to rest!” she yelled, dropping her hands to her sides. “There will be plenty of time to rest…later,” she said, lowering her voice. “There are things to be done and I’m sick of not being able to do them. All I do is lay around while the clock is ticking.” She stabbed her finger at the list. “There’s a scrapbook in here I want my sister to have, okay? And whatever Sloan doesn’t want should be donated to the women’s shelter and my books should go to the public library...”

  He wanted to tell her that no one cared about her designer shoes and handbags, but he didn’t. He cared about her, not who was going to inherit her collection of Jimmy Choo shoes. But this was important to her, so he’d do it. He knew Darla didn’t really care about the stuff. She just needed something to occupy her brain with besides the inevitable.

  “You have to let go, honey. I’ll take care of everything. I need you to rest. Save your energy.”

  “For what?!” she screamed and her voice cracked.

  She beat his chest as hard as she could, but she was so weak he could barely feel it. He let her vent her anger and mourn the life she was losing.

  “There’s nothing else to save my energy for. This is it. This is it…,” she sobbed. “And I’m not ready.”

  He pulled her close again and this time she didn’t pull away. She wrapped her frail arms around him and let him hold her together. She was skin and bones and he held her as tight as he could without bruising her. They cried together inside the closet and cursed the disease that was stealing her life out from under her and then cried some more.

  He remembered the rest of that night clearly. After her outburst, Darla didn’t have any energy left, so he propped her up in her favorite chair and they went through her things together…

  JD woke up with a start. Disorientated, he looked around to gather his bearings. The grandfather clock ticked in the corner of the living room and the green digits on the microwave glowed from inside the kitchen. He was downstairs again, in the La-Z-Boy. Away from any potential triggers.

  He sat up and declined the footrest. Mel grunted in his sleep, probably dreaming about chasing a jackrabbit or something. JD got to his feet and padded barefoot out the French doors and onto the back patio. The night air was balmy and smelled of marsh grass and dew. An owl hooted in the distance. The black sky glittered with stars and crickets chirped. Even in the dead of night, he could hear ducks quacking in the distance when something disturbed them in their sleep.

  JD gulped the air but it was sticky and warm in his lungs and did nothing to clear his head. The vast sky and wide open space of the wetlands should have made him feel better and provide perspective. But all it did was make him feel small, insignificant and more alone than ever.

  The flip-flap of the doggie door sounded and Mel sat down at JD’s side.

  “How you doing, buddy?” he asked, rolling his knuckles over the dog’s head.

  Mel yawned and a high-pitched sound wheezed out of his muzzle. A wet tongue darted out and slathered JD’s hand.

  JD brought his hand up to his face and in the starlight he could see that it was shaking.

  Chapter Six

  The Nest

  The weather was unpredictable in Hayley’s Point. One day, dark rainclouds raced across the sky as if their lives depended on it and the next day Lauren would wake up to a solid blue sky void of anything but birds and sunshine. Today was one of the rare days where a few fat bottomed clouds sat low in the sky, their white fluffiness a stark contrast to the brilliant blue of the sky. A strong breeze from the north kept the June sun from being completely unbearable. To Lauren it didn’t matter what was going on in the heavens. She would take her morning walk on the trail come rain or shine. She hadn’t seen much rain during her time in Hayley’s Point but that was probably because it was summertime and the rainy season didn’t start in northern California until October.

  Lauren was already up to dozens of different species on her life list. There was one species she’d yet to see, but that was about to change. Lured by the melodic song of what she suspected was the elusive Northern California weaver, she crept through the trees and off the beaten path.

  The wetlands were a scavenger hunt. Behind a bush, in the trees, beyond the next bend… You never knew where you’d find your next great discovery. Lauren found hers in a white alder tree with scaly bark. The old tree straddled the property line of the refuge and the mansion.

  Slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, she lifted her binoculars and adjusted the focus. When the image became clear, her breath caught in her throat. There they were. A pair of Northern California weavers feeding their young in their nest.

  Their purple and green feathers shone metallic in the sunlight. What a rare gift to be able to catch a glimpse of a bird on the cusp of extinction! They were so beautiful! It was a shame their population was on the decline.

  The name didn’t do justice to their stunning beauty, but they were called the Northern California weaver because of the tightly woven nests they built and because they could only be found in the Red Valley area of Northern California. To limit other predators from harming their young, the weavers built their nests in early summer when the bird population in the area was at its lowest.

  Lauren might not have noticed the nest if the dog hadn’t alerted her to their presence in the tree. She still wasn’t completely sure where he lived. He just sort of appeared on the trail whenever she went out for a walk. After he disappeared down the trail last time, Lauren thought she’d imagined the yellow dog. But when he returned the next day, she knew she hadn’t been seeing things. This morning he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and eager for another adventure.

  He whined at her feet and she shushed him.

  “I wish you could see how amazing they are,” she whispered.

  As wonderful as it was to discover the weaver’s nest, it would have been even better to have someone to share it with.

  Chapter Seven

  The Woman in the Field

  When JD dumped his empty cereal bowl in the sink, movement in the field beyond the window caught his attention. It was probably just an animal. He’d seen deer and jack rabbits come so c
lose to the house that they’d sent Mel into a tizzy. Speaking of Mel, JD looked around and he was nowhere to be found.

  JD squinted at the window and tried to make out the figure. This wasn’t some animal grazing in the field. It was a woman. Mel trotted happily beside her as if it was something he did every day of his life.

  JD might not have seen the woman over the tall grass if it wasn’t for the huge hat she wore. The way it bobbed up and down was odd too. What exactly was she doing? Jogging?

  She came out into the clearing and it became obvious. The woman was skipping. Skipping. JD couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a grown woman skip. Probably because the last time was never. Mel was practically skipping as well. His long tongue lolled out of his mouth and he looked as happy as a kid on roller skates.

  What was she doing out there? Besides skipping with his dog, of course.

  Thoughts of trespassing were abandoned when JD saw her face. She was smiling. Not a small timid smile or a phony Joan McKinnon million-dollar-sales-pitch smile, but a full-on show-your-teeth-and-throw-your-head-back kind of smile.

  What was this skipping woman doing on his property anyway? Then JD remembered Joan mentioning something about there being trails all around the property. At the time he couldn’t care less, but now he was unnerved by it. He didn’t fork over one point four million to have people trampling through his backyard.

  JD couldn’t help but wonder what was out there that would be so exciting as to attract the floppy-hatted woman to the area. The racket of those damned birds obviously didn’t deter her. Maybe that’s what brought her here.

  The binoculars hanging around her neck told him she must be interested in wildlife. Either that or she was a paparazzo. Nah. Besides a few curious glances at his house, she didn’t pay much attention to anything other than the birds flying overhead and his dog. She wasn’t there to spy on the recluse former hockey player who’d disappeared off the map. She was there to watch those damn birds and make friends with his dog.