The Willows: Haven

by Hope Collier

  Gabe hesitated when he neared me. His right hand tapped anxiously against his leg, breaking rhythm as he brushed his forearm against his mouth in a wiping motion. Gabe gingerly tucked his right elbow into his ribs, moving uncomfortably. In his left hand, he carried a gallon of water.

  He didn’t say anything as he sat down to my right a couple of feet away and offered me the jug. I took a long drink.

  “Where did you find this?” I asked as I handed him the remaining water.

  He extended his right hand — the anxious, tapping one — to retrieve the container. His eyebrows rose suddenly, and he tried to pull it back but not before I caught sight of a recent injury swathing the front of his fingers. My mouth fell open. The wounds were still an alarming shade of red. His skin was pleated in odd shapes across his knuckles. Gabe noted my wide-eyes and drew it behind his back.

  “What happened?” I gasped and reached for his wounded hand. I pulled his arm toward me. His body turned, revealing more injuries. A long gash marred his left eyebrow, and a contusion had his cheekbone dark and swollen. Blood caked over a split running his lower lip, top to bottom.

  “Gabe…” Shock froze me mid-sentence.

  “It’s nothing really. I just h-hit it.” His tongue absentmindedly swept across the inside of his cheek.

  “On what?” I pried his arm from behind his back and pulled his chin around. “It looks like you got into a fight with a tree.” I brushed dirt and flecks of bark from his hair.

  He scoffed, a scowl etched in his forehead.

  Gabe tensed as I lifted his hand to my face and brushed my lips across the healing wounds. Warmth colored his expression for a moment before a blank mask settled in its place.

  “It’s already almost healed.” He stood and drew his hand away.

  Confusion and heartbreak filled the empty space left when he walked away.

  Gabe fashioned a fire pit out of stones, stacking them in a shallow circle, and built a tepee near the opening using the material. I watched as he worked in silence, never allowing more than a fleeting glance in my direction, not even long enough to see the timid smile I offered each time.

  Gabe pulled two flint rocks from his pocket and ignited the fire. We sat in grim silence, my eyes flickering to his face as he stared, sometimes glared, into the blaze. An odd fascination encased him as he watched the bits and pieces of trees burn.

  I wrapped my arms around my knees and shivered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, his focus fixed straight ahead.

  I flinched at the chill in his voice. “I’m fine.”

  He tossed me his shirt and laid another branch on the fire before going back to glaring at the flame. I wanted to say something, to ask him what he was thinking, why he was so distant, but I pressed my lips together and tried not to upset him any further.

  My stomach grumbled, inciting a listless but welcomed response from Gabe. He dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a granola bar. I looked with hope that this subtle change in atmosphere would close the distance between us in some way, any way. He met my eager eyes for a fleeting second, offered an apology for the lack of a better meal, and tossed the snack to me. I made no attempt to catch it, and it landed at my feet with a soft thud.

  An insidious panic began to creep in. The crack of wind howling through the trees carried through me. I tightened Gabe’s shirt around my shoulders. His vacant stare flickered toward me. I still didn’t know if he could hear my heartbeat — which was battering like a helicopter’s rotors — or the short rapid breaths that spiraled me into hyperventilation, but it caught his attention.

  “Ash, I’m—” Gabe’s mouth froze in an open expression. He searched my expression before dropping his gaze, defeat simmering beneath.

  “Please, what’s wrong?” Tears prickled in my eyes. “What happened earlier, I … I should’ve told you about that before. But it’s over with him. Can’t you forgive me?”

  Gabe hesitated, a cold resolve settling around him. “What’s to forgive, right?”

  I watched in stunned heartbreak as he backed away and returned to his former position.

  “Please, sleep now,” he said on a sigh, his tone torn between pleading and exhausted.

  I balled up on my side and turned my face away to hide the tears streaking silently down my cheek. The fire crackled, warming my back, but I still felt cold inside.

  “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” he murmured.

  That was an understatement. How could this happen? Why would fate bring us together only to tear us apart by something so easily fixed? How could things fall into place so effortlessly only to be completely lost? No, I wouldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t lose the best part of me to some stupid choice I made.

  I thought love could conquer all…

  “Gabe?” I tried to keep my voice steady. “Do you think love is ever enough?”

  “Enough for what?” he murmured.

  “Enough for … us?”

  He scarcely breathed before answering. “Who ever said that love’s enough?”

  I felt what seemed like should’ve been an audible splintering in my chest, but my heart continued to throb.

  “I’ll be outside keeping watch.” Gabe’s voice echoed from the mine opening before he turned and vanished into the shadows.

  The darkness of the moonless night filled the space around me. I tried to reason though Gabe’s feelings and behavior, but he wasn’t the one keeping secrets. Guilt joined the emptiness and they danced across my soul. Gabe had every right to be angry, but that wasn’t what I felt from him.

  My mindless worrying finally gave way to exhaustion and I fell asleep, the sounds of a raging tempest filling my dreams.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Confrontation

  A bead of sweat trickled down my neck, tickling my skin. Muggy summer air filled my lungs as light flickered across my eyelids. The sound of echoing footsteps caused me to turn. Gabe stood at the mine opening, staring into the misty forest. My heart ached inside my chest, longing to connect with him. Even now amidst the heat, I felt cold and void.

  “We need to get going. You should eat something,” Gabe spoke up, his tone somber. Fish hung from a skewer over the makeshift fire. Tears pooled in my eyes, but I turned and started picking at the meal, allowing more to fall to the ground than I placed in my mouth.

  We packed up and headed out after eating. The last few miles to the base of the mountain weren’t especially difficult as far as the terrain was concerned — the wretched silence was another issue altogether. Gabe only offered to speak or touch when it was required, but the contact never lingered. The stressful minutes ticked away into hours, each one bringing us closer to a place neither of us wanted to be.

  The imposing mountain which seemed so far away this morning, now stood at our feet. Gabe found a stony path winding up the side.

  “We’ll need to climb from here,” he said, wiping his palms against his shorts.

  I stared toward the peak stretching impossibly high into the sky. “I can’t climb that. It’s too tall.” I shook my head. “You know I don’t do so well with heights.”

  Gabe peered upward, his eyes narrowing in thought. Finally, he sighed and squatted down. “Climb on my back. I can carry you easily enough.”

  I hesitated. What if I was too heavy? One slip was all it’d take. Gabe turned his face, peeking at me from the corner of his eye. I drew a steadying breath and climbed on, wrapping my arms and legs around him.

  Strong fingers found a firm grip on the mountain, and we began to ascend quicker than I imaged possible. Gabe’s hands and feet moved at a perfect pace, carrying us smoothly up the rock face. I glanced over my shoulder and gasped. My arms tightened around his torso, my chest hard against his back. Gabe sucked in a breath, and slowed as he turned an ear toward me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice strained.

  “Yeah, we’re just really high.” I breathed against his cheek. He shivered once and retu
rned his focus to climbing. I buried my nose in the crook of his neck and concentrated on the strong scent of warm cedar and rain.

  A symphony of crickets and tree frogs echoed throughout the woods as we reached the entrance to the cave. Gabe pulled me from his back, and we stood against the mountain face, stretching our stiff and tired bodies. I craned my neck to see over the ledge and swallowed hard.

  “Thanks for carrying me,” I said, my voice shaky.

  “You’re welcome.” He gave me a weak smile and turned away. I battled fear and heartache as the weight of the mountain settled on my chest.

  Gabe stood to the left of a boulder taller than himself and twice as wide, resting near the mouth of the shadowy opening. With the jarring groan, the boulder rolled and covered the small gap in front of me.

  My eyes shifted in question back to Gabe.

  “Most people won’t climb this high, but just in case. The other opening—” he pointed to the hole he had just covered “—only goes about thirty yards before it dead-ends.”

  Gabe lifted one of the waterproof pouches from his side pocket and pulled out the two flashlights. He switched them on and handed one to me. “Let’s go.”

  I stepped inside and walked a few feet forward, allowing Gabe to make his entrance. My light glowed to life and washed over the chiseled rock wall. A grating scrape followed by a thud reverberated through the space, causing me to jump. I whipped around to see Gabe sealing off the mouth of the cave.

  “What are you doing?” I rushed back and shoved against the boulder.

  “We have to seal it up. We can’t allow anyone to follow us in here. No one knows about this place.”

  Cold sweat seeped through my shirt. The air sat heavy in my chest, dusty and choking, causing my eyes to water. I placed my hands on my knees and tried not to pass out.

  “Shh. It’s all right.” Gabe tried to calm me.

  “No, it’s not. Nothing is all right.” My stomach churned, and the raspy breath moving through my lungs came too fast. The emptiness around me began to mingle with the emptiness inside, leaving fear to take over.

  Gabe pulled me to his chest. I took a deep breath and leaned into his body. The slight shift caused him to stiffen.

  “Please, Gabe. What’s wrong?” My voice wavered. “Can’t we talk about what happened before? I can’t take the silence of you and the cave.”

  “Later maybe, but not now.” He held me at arm’s length. “Let’s just focus on Harry.”

  I felt the heartache in my expression as his eyes met mine.

  “I have to concentrate on what we’re doing. There’s a goal and I can’t let emotion get in the way of that. I will keep you safe,” he vowed, but somehow with remorse.

  “That’s not what I’m afraid of,” I muttered.

  Gabe didn’t respond. I bit my tongue and continued forward into the unknown.

  “Do you know how far it is until the next marker? How will you see it?” I whispered, risking a glance his way.

  “I don’t know about the distance, but we won’t miss it,” he said, bitterness seeping into his tone.

  The deeper we moved into the mountain, the colder and bleaker the atmosphere became. It hugged me like hopelessness, whispering threats and promises of sorrow. I wrapped my arms together, my palms chafing the bare skin beneath my shoulder.

  Gabe untied the gray thermal from his waist and slipped it over my head.

  “What’s that smell?” I asked minutes later, scrunching my nose.

  “What? Do you smell something unusual?” he questioned cautiously.

  “Yeah, don’t you?” Surely if I could tell something was different, Gabe could have a mile ago. But he shook his head, a troubled look on his previously emotionally-frozen face.

  “Describe it for me,” he said.

  “It’s vivid and earthy … distinctive.” I frowned into the darkness.

  His eyes narrowed. “How?”

  I closed my eyes, and inhaled slowly through my nose. My heart sped at the scent. “It’s like the sun, leaves, and moss maybe … pine, newly turned soil, wet rock, fruit.” My gaze found his once more. “And it’s getting stronger. Do you know what it is?”

  He avoided my eyes. “Who is it, would be the more appropriate question.”

  My heart felt like it dropped into my stomach before leaping into my throat. “Who is it?”

  “Do you recognize the scent?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “It’s familiar somehow, but I can’t quite place it.”

  The scent reminded me of times past when I had emotion tied to certain smells, even if I couldn’t remember what they meant.

  “It could be more than one person then. Their scents could be blending together.”

  My fingers dug into Gabe’s arm. “Darach?” The lump tightened in my throat at the sound of his name.

  “I wouldn’t think so. I doubt he would come here to meet you, or us.” His eyes darted away from mine. “He would stay somewhere safer for now. Royalty, you know.”

  “How close do you think he, or she maybe, is?” I asked.

  “With my sense of smell, I can usually detect something a couple of miles away in the air. Of course, I have nothing to judge it against with yours. I would think it should be comparable — maybe another mile or better than mine.”

  Without warning, the smell of the cavern shifted. I sucked in a breath. “I smell water.”

  “The second marker.” His voice fell to a whisper.

  We rounded a bend in the tunnel. The air cooled as the sound of a waterfall echoed around the space. The falls surged through a deep gully near the roof and into a seemingly bottomless fissure. A halo of light circled fifty feet overhead. The sun played off the water, dancing over the walls in a thousand rainbows.

  I breathed in the scent of our surroundings, my mind warring with my senses. Gabe’s narrowed eyes scanned the outer lying darkness then he motioned for me to move toward the falls.

  Just as I took the first step, Gabe grabbed my wrist and yanked me behind his body. The smell of a forest filled the open space. The fingers of my free hand curled around his bicep. His arm stiffened, and he stood motionless except for the hand that flexed around my arm. I stepped to his side, determined to show my loyalty.

  Shadows loomed before us, pausing at the fringe of the darkness just ahead, their upper bodies hidden in the shade. Two cloaked individuals flanked the leader, a third behind him — of course, the blend of scents. I shouldn’t have been surprised by their presence, but I was.

  “Ruarc, I’m relieved to see you again so soon,” the closest shadow spoke, his voice saturated with arrogance and unnervingly familiar.

  Gabe’s teeth came together with a snap. Hostility rolled off him in waves as his eyes burned with hatred.

  “Perhaps my soon-to-be sister-in-law will be a bit nicer,” the voice mocked. Gabe’s arm tightened around me as his lip curled up into a snarl. The man stepped further into the sunlight as he spoke, illuminating his face. “Good to see you again, Ashton.”

  I recoiled from his advance, squeezing my body into Gabe’s side, hoping to make myself disappear entirely. “Oren.”

  “I hope you had an interesting trip,” he continued in a contemptuous tone.

  “That’s enough, Oren,” Gabe spit through his teeth. “We’re here. You can refrain from the pleasantries now.”

  Oren tsk’d. “So touchy. I was just making conversation, Ruarc. But you’re probably right,” he paused and eyed Gabe deviously. “I know Darach is quite tired of waiting for his prize — or wife. Thanks for the delivery.” Oren grinned as Gabe’s face hardened. “You made good on your end of the bargain. I told them you would.”

  Bargain?

  A sick dread washed over me. “Gabe, what’s he talking about?”

  Gabe’s eyes stayed fixed on Oren, hatred etched in his every feature.

  “The rest has been taken care of, as agreed,” Oren added.

  Tears flooded my vision as I stared at Gabe’s p
rofile. “He’s telling the truth?”

  Gabe grimaced.

  “What? He didn’t tell you?” Oren sneered. “Oh, this is good! His job was as simple as mine. That’s why he was sent to find you in the first place. And you thought you meant more to him than a means to an end.” His laughter rang with malicious pleasure. “You are way too trusting, Princess.”

  Gabe pulled me closer to Oren. I dug my heels in and fought to yank my arm away.

  “Ashton.” Oren took a step forward, one hand extended.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” I spoke through gritted teeth.

  Gabe looked back at me. “It’s not your choice, Gracie.”

  I jerked my hand out of his grip. “Don’t call me that.” My chin quivered, but I held my head high.

  Gabe’s eyes flashed with hurt before being smothered once again with cold resolve. “Remember your promise.”

  Tears slid down my cheeks as Gabe backed further away, Oren taking his place beside me.

  “Go,” Gabe ordered, meeting my eyes with severity.

  “No.” I swiped at the tears streaming down my face. “That wasn’t the deal.”

  Gabe looked away for minute, and then turned his gaze back to mine. His eyes were bitter, remote … dead. “This ends here,” he whispered, though I knew everyone could hear him. “You have to go where you belong, and you belong to Darach.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I tugged against Oren’s grip. “Not like this. You said—”

  “It was an act, Ashton,” he snapped, his tone calloused. “You were a job. I told you I was in acquisitions. You were the biggest target yet. I did my part, and now it’s over, so go.”

  The air rushed out of me. A painfully-clear detachment covered Gabe’s entire demeanor but more evident and powerful than I had ever seen. It was like I wasn’t even there. Pain overwhelmed every other sense. I reached for him, and he shot me a daunting glare.

  “Don’t,” he ordered, a never before seen hatred in his eyes. The color fell from my face. “It’s never been enough and will never be.”