by H. L. Wegley
Jeff pulled her to her feet on top of the rock that had blocked them. He took her back into the protection of the V-shaped notch and circled her shoulders with his arms.
Trembling, Allie clung to him, face pressed into his chest. After a few seconds, she looked up at him. “Thank you again, Jeff. I was hanging out over … nothing. That terrifies me.”
“Allie, it’s not what you’re hanging out over that matters. It’s who’s hanging on to you.”
He couldn’t see the warmth in Allie’s eyes, but he knew it was there. He sensed it in her warm embrace, her relaxed body.
She slipped her hands behind his neck and gently nudged his head downward. Allie obviously wanted to kiss him.
The question was—no, it wasn’t question. It was a decision. Either he would be breaking his vow or making a new vow, one he probably should not make … yet.
Jeff’s hesitation made the decision for him when Allie raised onto her toes and kissed him.
Allie’s kiss was like her, soft and warm.
It surprised Jeff and left him breathless.
She rested her head against his chest and it sounded like she was sniffling.
He cupped her cheek. His hand came away wet. “Allie, are you—”
“I’m sorry, Jeff. I forgot. You know, about your vow.” She sniffled again and wiped her cheek. “And this isn’t like me. I just wanted to …”
He waited, but Allie had stopped talking. Now what was he supposed to say? According to what she told him at his house, this was her first kiss … ever. Now, she was crying about it. He couldn’t lecture her or tell her she shouldn’t have done it.
Come on, dude. Spin it like a politician.
Maybe the obnoxious voice in his mind was right. But Allie might take this the wrong way. “Please don’t cry, Allie. You kissed me. I didn’t break any vow.”
“You didn’t?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then I'll make you a deal. After that overhanging rock, I’m not sure I can keep climbing up this cliff.” Allie looked down at her feet. “If you can get me to the top, without scaring me to death, I … I’ll give you another one.”
“Okay. It's a deal.”
The dim moonlight revealed a weak smile on her face. “Only if you deliver on your part.”
Jeff put his hand under her chin and lifted. “Now let me show you something.”
He shined the flashlight into notch above them. “Tell me what you see.”
Allie’s mouth dropped open and her gaze locked on him. “Jeff Jacobs, you took advantage of me.”
He put the light on Allie’s full lips. “That’s not the way I see it. You took advantage of me.”
Allie pulled herself loose from his hand and disappeared into the darkness above.
Jeff stepped up beside her and shined the light into the gap in the rock ahead of them. “A nice little trail all the way to the top. No more climbing.”
“You knew about this, and you tricked me.”
“I'll let you out of the deal if you want me to.”
She turned to face him. “I keep my promises, Jeff.”
“And I’ll remember that.” He slipped an arm around Allie's waist. Her body was shaking. “Getting cold?”
“Yes, a little. It's a lot colder up here than in the valley.”
“We're both wearing shorts. We're almost to the top of Bolan Peak. It gets chilly at sixty-two hundred feet. Let's move up to the top and check out the building.”
She started up the steep trail through the notch.
He took her hand and pulled her to a stop. “Out of curiosity, when do I get to collect on my end of the deal?”
Allie didn't answer.
He hit her face with the light beam.
Her coy smile disappeared. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Yeah. But I won't forget, Allie.”
She charged ahead, nearly pulling him off his feet. “Let's go. It's cold out here.”
It was definitely cooling off. Probably for the best. He needed to focus on the danger they would face in the morning, once the cartel gunmen found his truck and deduced where they had gone.
Allie could run. That was a good thing because, come morning, they could be running for their lives.
Chapter 7
The heavens surrounded Allie, a surreal, three-dimensional picture filled with sparkling glitter, a large silver disc painted against an indigo sky, and a milky streak that ran through the middle of it all, from horizon to horizon.
Half way across the rocky top of Bolan Peak the shadowy silhouette of the lookout tower blotted out a rectangular area of stars. Allie tugged on Jeff’s hand. “Wait a second. I've never seen the sky like this. It's so beautiful.”
He scanned the sky, then her moonlit face. “So precise in its movement, so spectacular in its beauty. But like you, Allie, it's just the product of time and chance.”
“That's not fair. I never said I believed that nonsense. Look at it. It had to be created, just like you and me.”
“So you believe in God, but not in a good and faithful God?”
“I'm not sure what I believe about God. Can we go inside? I'm cold.”
There was something very special happening between her and Jeff, but now he had placed God between them, a God that wasn’t so special.
The near side of the tower was level with the ground, the other side supported by posts.
Jeff walked across the rocky ground to the tower door. “I think they rent this place out to hardy souls who want a getaway that's adventurous and romantic.”
Romantic. If it weren't for the cartel gunmen, and a certain subject Jeff was sure to bring up again, this would be the first real romantic night of her life. Being with someone she trusted completely, who was handsome, and whom she felt drawn to, was a much more powerful experience than what the Hollywood movies provided. And Hollywood movie directors were experts at creating powerful emotional responses.
She shivered and stepped close to Jeff, while he fiddled with what looked like a lock.
“What are the odds of that, Allie? The lock wasn't pushed in enough to catch. We don't have to break-in, just walk in. God is good, isn't he?”
That was debatable, but she wasn't in the mood for a debate with Jeff. “Maybe He was good this time.” But you can’t count on Him.
Jeff pushed the door open, stepped in, and took her hand. “C'mon, let's warm you up. You feel cold.”
Warm her up. If Jeff only knew how much warmth a simple touch from him generated she—
Come on, girl, get a grip. You're almost twenty-one years old, not a giddy fourteen-year-old.
Allie followed Jeff into the lookout tower. The residual heat from the sunny afternoon left the glass-enclosed room almost too warm. She walked to the middle of the room and turned a full circle. The 360-degree view of the star-studded sky again overwhelmed her.
Jeff closed the door and moved beside her.
When his arm slipped around her, Allie laid her head on his shoulder. It seemed natural, the proper place for Allie Santiago’s head. She wouldn’t even have considered behaving like this a few days ago. How could a few hours make so much difference?
He kissed her forehead, then pulled her toward the moonlit side of the tower. “Come over here, Allie. I want you to see this.”
He pointed down the mountain.
She sighted down his arm to a small, flickering light near the base of the mountain. Or was it on the adjacent mountain?
“That's the cartel men’s campfire. It looks like they took the wrong fork in the road and they’re camping in the canyon near the base of the mountain. I'll bet they left somebody at the fork to prevent us from backtracking. But we're safe for tonight.”
“Listen, Jeff.” A distant noise grew louder. “Is that the FBI helicopter?”
Jeff looked toward the north side of the building. “They know we're not at the house and they're looking for us. Unfortunately, they’re looking near town.”
He pulled his cell from his shorts pocket and it lit up. “No bars. I'm going to walk around the perimeter of the tower and see if I can catch a signal from some cell tower.”
“Be careful.”
“It's okay, Allie. We're safe for the night. No goons, no grizzlies, and no ghosts up here. And Bigfoot’s just a myth. Be right back.”
“Don’t tell me you used to believe in monsters.”
“Yeah. So do you. The Sinaloa Cartel. But you’re in the heart of Bigfoot country. Too many sightings in this area to count. But that was mostly fifty years ago.”
She watched as Jeff left the building and moved onto the deck encircling the tower.
He moved slowly along the deck, stopping to hold up the cell every few feet. After Jeff circled the tower, he came back inside shaking his head. “No luck. I'll try again before it gets too light in the morning.”
“What do you think the FBI will do, Jeff?”
“They'll check out the evidence at the house. That trail of rubber I burned on the garage floor, evidence of shooting, along with the goons' absence from town—they’ll have a good idea what happened and they'll come looking for us tomorrow. We need to be ready to signal them. There's a mirror in my pack we can use. My pack. That reminds me, you're probably thirsty.”
“Parched. And hungry too.”
“I've got some energy bars in my pack, but let's check the little pantry.” He hit the small, doorless pantry with the flashlight beam. “There are some water bottles. Let me check them before we get too excited. I may have to go out looking for water.”
She followed him toward the water. “How many bottles are there?”
“Six. And they haven't been opened. The expiration date is sometime next year. They were probably left by the last guests who stayed here.”
“Jeff, there's a book on the table. It looks like a log. Maybe it will tell us who they were and when they stayed here.” She reached for the book.
“First, you need to get some water in you.” He tossed her a bottle.
In the dim light, she bobbled it, then grabbed it before it hit the floor. “Bring the flashlight over here.” She stepped to the log, opened her bottle, flipped the lid, and sucked hard. That literally wet her thirst. Allie began guzzling.
“Whoa, whoa. Do you always drink like that? You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t slow down.”
She gave him a mock frown and closed the lid on her bottle.
Jeff put the light beam on the book.
Allie opened it and flipped pages until she found the last entry. “June 29. That was two weeks ago. It says, ‘You may not believe this, but Eric and I (Brenda) spent our wedding night here. The most romantic spot on earth. It was incredible! I hope you enjoy it here half as much as we did’.”
Allie closed the log. “I think that's enough of that.”
“Allie?” Jeff stepped close to her, slipped a hand under her arm and gently turned her to face him.
Was Jeff going to claim the prize he tricked her into offering? The thought was enticing and frightening at the same time. He had no idea how strongly his closeness affected her.
“Yes?” The word caught in her throat and then escaped, sounding like a bullfrog’s croak.
“I don't know how to tell you this in a diplomatic way, so I'll just say it plain. You are so beautiful, and when I’m with you, unless we're running for our lives, I can't … I just …”
Jeff was being honest. She should be, too. “I think it's called chemistry.”
“Yeah. But you and I can't afford any explosions. So …” His nervous, hesitating voice sounded completely out of character for the confident man she was coming to know.
“I'm glad you told me.”
“You are?” His voice broke, sounding like an adolescent boy.
She understood. But how does a person admit something like that, something she’d never experienced before? Her face grew warm. Allie was blushing. Maybe Jeff couldn’t tell in the dim light.
Jeff cupped her cheek, then pulled his hand back. “Great. We're spending the night in Eric and Brenda's honeymoon cottage in the most romantic setting I've ever been in and with the most beautiful woman I've ever met. She owes me a kiss that could well, … you know. And a half-dozen armed thugs are camped near the base of the mountain, making plans to blow us away in the morning. They may be too late.”
“Jeff, you make it sound so wild and crazy and—it's not that bad. Well, not quite that bad. Maybe it's…” But it was that bad.
Tears overflowed her eyes. It was a stupid, immature response. Allie wiped the tears from her cheeks.
Jeff noticed and his arms curled around her. “You know, if you and I were brought together for a purpose, I believe the same God that brought us together will make sure we have some time for this relationship to grow in a good way.”
Jeff had made a big assumption about them. And why did he have to insert God between them again? “You mean the same God I don't believe in?”
“That's not how you really think about Him. I've heard you, and I understand where you're coming from. You're just not sure you can trust Him enough to put your faith in Him. Just try Him. He'll prove Himself to you.”
She stepped back from Jeff. “There's nothing provable about your faith. Nothing a person can count on. And you certainly can't count on …” Memories flooded Allie’s consciousness, memories of desperation and darkness.
Allie took a calming breath. “When I was nine, my grandmother got sick, really sick. I prayed for her so hard that I got sick. Prayed for a miracle. Evidently, God doesn’t care about the prayers of little girls. So I stopped praying.”
“I’m sorry, Allie. Can I show you something?”
“I have the feeling you're going to show me anyway. Go ahead.”
Jeff pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket.
Allie recognized it immediately. When things looked hopeless at the marijuana plantation, she had written a complaint against whoever was in control. Maybe a complaint against God. Maybe a complaint against life.
He unfolded the paper. “When you were unconscious on my couch, I wanted to know who you were, so I looked—”
“I was helpless and you searched me? How could you do that, Jeff?”
“Allie, it wasn't like that. I only searched for some ID.”
“You mean like birthmarks?”
“No. A driver's license. But this paper was sticking out of your shorts pocket. I read it and … let me read it again.”
Jeff shined his light on the paper and read. “I've cried for help until my voice is gone. I've looked for help until my sight is nearly gone. Who will hear and help? Will anyone answer my cries? These people hate me and plan to destroy me for their own profit. What have I done to them?
“They have made me work as a slave for them. I didn’t take anything from them. I owed them nothing. I’m not perfect, but do I deserve this? Is there any hope anywhere?
“Will anyone answer my questions? Can anyone answer them?”
He looked up at her.
Allie promised herself she wouldn't cry again, but once again tears overflowed her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.
Jeff turned the paper over. “After I read your words, I realized I’d read them before. So I opened my Bible and—”
“You're not going to preach to me, Jeff. I won't listen.”
“I would never preach to you. I just want you to hear someone else who cried out with words identical to yours.”
“Yeah, sure. Someone, two or three thousand years ago, was captured by a drug gang, and they tried to mow him down with an automatic slingshot.”
“Just listen, please. Here are King David's words from Psalm 69. I'm paraphrasing them in modern English.”
Allie shrugged. Her shoulders lied about her interest, but she wasn’t going to tell Jeff.
He began reading his words.
“I am exhausted from my calling out for help; my throat is parched and burning. And
my eyes are failing from looking for you, God.”
She drew a sharp breath. Those were her words.
Jeff continued.
“My enemies hate me and they don't even have a reason. I have countless enemies, enemies without cause and they want to destroy me. They force me to give to them what I did not steal.
“You know all of my failings, O God. They are not hidden from your eyes.”
Allie blew out the breath she’d been holding and looked away out the window. “I … I don't understand. How could someone else—”
“It's called the human condition. The ugliness of living on planet Earth that every worldview or philosophy tries to explain. And, yeah, David's complaint was identical to yours. But there is an answer to the human condition, Allie.”
“Probably somebody else's answer. I’ll bet it didn't satisfy David.” And it wouldn’t satisfy her.
Jeff studied her face for a moment. “That’s where you’re wrong. The answer comes in David's own words. Even though he complained, here's his answer. It’s what he believed. I'm paraphrasing a couple of verses from Psalm 59.”
“I'm going to sing about your power. This morning I'm going to sing about your great love for me. You, Lord, are my fortress. You are my refuge in the times of trouble. You are my Strength and so I'll sing praises to your name. You, my loving God, are my fortress.”
Both of those poems or psalms, as Jeff called them, came from the same man. Somehow, he could complain to God and yet praise Him. Was that even allowed?
When Allie asked the question, immediately Jeff’s prayer from earlier in the evening came to mind. It had sounded like a young child talking to his daddy. A child can complain to their dad, ask for help, and get it. Just because trouble came a child didn't run from their dad. He was their fortress. He protected them.
The defensive walls Allie had built to protect a hurting, doubting heart all crumbled in an instant. There was nothing left to hold them up, not even her stubborn will. “Jeff, I …” Her voice caught and she looked up into Jeff’s face in the moonlight.
The tenderness in his eyes said he understood the change in her.
And she had changed. At some point in Jeff's reading, the switch was flipped and the lights had come on in Allie's soul, or spirit, wherever the real Alejandra Santiago existed.
