Follow the white pebbles

by Lillian Summers

  He looked at her a little disconcerted, not understanding her gruffness. “Sure,” he said. “Just give me a moment to fix the rope, then we’ll be all set to go.”

  During the next hour they did an excruciating slow climb up and over a short finger crack, past a bolt to an overhanging corner until they finally reached the summit chimneys.

  “What now?” an exhausted Lizzie panted and fell to her knees amid a group of cheering people who started to pat Justin on the back, treating her as if she were one of the weeds sprouting around.

  “Now we take another break then we commence the descent to the camping place.”

  Justin brushed the women away and went to sit next to his wife. Silence fell between them, while Kate desperately tried to catch his gaze. He stubbornly refused to look up at her.

  Chatter eventually started, at first awkward and feeble, then the girls picked up speed until their voices raced.

  An hour later the group started down the approach path and made the official hiking trail at nightfall walking by the light of headlamps. A clearing came into view, filled with tents, camping showers and amenities. A couple of men busied themselves with setting a huge picnic table.

  “Come, I’ll show you our tent,” Justin said, taking Lizzie’s hand.

  She flinched in pain.

  He looked down at her palms and winced. “Let’s fix this, shall we?” he said.

  She hid her hands behind her back, raising her chin stubbornly. “The hell you will, Winters,” she bit out. “I’m not a damn toddler. I can take care of myself.”

  Justin sighed heavily and looked darkly at her. “Listen to me, Lizzie. I am going to tend to your wounds, whether you like it or not. Is that clear?” He clamped his fingers around her elbow and started dragging her behind him until they reached the far end of the table. “First aid kit and a lamp,” he rapid-fired the command to one of the servants.

  He turned Lizzie’s palms up and tipped his head down to have a better look. A gasp escaped his lips as he stared at the raw wounds and huge blisters that were marring her skin.

  “Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I’ll be gentle.” No answer came back at him. Just an unreadable gaze that dropped to his chin as soon as he looked up to search Lizzie’s face.

  The servant approached with the first aid kit.

  Justin opened a bottle of sterilized water and started pouring it over the lesions.

  Lizzie remained immobile, nothing on her features giving away the pain that was stabbing at her wounds.

  “Almost there,” he said gently, spreading a fine coat of antiseptic cream over her palms with the tips of his fingers. He then started rolling the gauze around her hands until he built fingerless gloves out of it.

  Lizzie still didn’t flinch, her face as placid as the surface of a mirror.

  Justin felt his heart bleed. “I’m done,” he said, wondering about her past, if she could sit through this without flinching.

  She nodded curtly and pulled her hands away as if burnt with a hot iron.

  The chatter grew stronger around them as the group of females and the few males came to sit at the table and started feasting on the cornucopia of food in between bursts of giggles.

  Justin filled a plate for Lizzie and waited in silence to see if she could hold her fork with her bandaged hand. Instead, she grabbed the bites with her fingers and ate in a raw, primal way drawing appalled looks on their friends’ faces. He smiled inwardly.

  “Well, I suppose we should go to bed.” Julia yawned when dinner was over. “Tomorrow we have another long day.”

  Everybody agreed.

  Lizzie stood up and remained still next to her chair, not quite sure which way to go. There were at least eight tents set up.

  “This way.” Justin motioned and started toward one of them, one step ahead of her.

  “Justin.” Kate’s voice sounded from behind.

  He stopped and turned around.

  “May I have a word with you?” Kate called out.

  “I’ll be inside.” Lizzie crouched hastily and pushed the tent’s entrance fold away.

  Justin looked down at her for a moment, hesitating, then started with small steps toward Kate.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Kate sliced him with an icy stare.

  “I beg your pardon?” He cocked a surprised eyebrow.

  She exhaled noisily and tipped her head to one side, looking questioningly at him. “Are you telling me you were going to go in there with her?” she asked.

  Justin raised his hands in the air, palms up, just as he bobbed his shoulder in an annoyed shrug. “Are you asking me if I’m going to spend the night in the same tent with my wife?” he inquired with irritation.

  “Of course I am,” she snapped. “Your wife wasn’t supposed to be here, and we were supposed to spend the night together, remember? I’m pretty sure you can find a way around it, Justin, if you bother to give it a try.”

  “Well, I don’t think I could take the risk to sneak out at night and be caught, could I?” he said.

  Kate’s lips parted in utter disbelief as she scrutinized his unreadable face in silence for a while. “Well, I’ll go take a shower and I’ll be in my tent after that. All night. In case you change your mind.” She waited a moment for a reaction, and when none came from him she turned around and left with brisk, stumpy steps.

  “Oh, well.” Justin shrugged. Then the reality hit him. For the first time in his adult life, he was brushing away an offer for a tumble in bed. And Kate was, by far, the type of mistress he’d always preferred. Whether it was his exhaustion, or her rough attitude that had turned him off, he couldn’t quite tell. One fact was certain: for once, he just didn’t want to spend the night holding her in his arms. He was just content to go back to his tent, lie down and listen to the soft breathing of his wife until he’d drift away.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The parquetry top dining table was handcrafted of solid oak and rose on cabriole legs, just as the twelve upholstered chairs with ladder backs that surrounded it. A Matching parquetry top sideboards, a console table and a buffet were lining the side walls.

  The damn place looks like a museum. Lizzie nodded self-approvingly as she kept shifting her insolent gaze from Madeline’s tortured face to Arthur’s belligerent figure. If things kept going this way, she would soon get out of here and jump in the limousine, chatter with Ben and Roy all the way to Oswego then get them to build her a new rope ladder to climb the property’s trees. Her parents seemed to have turned both dumb, and that suited her damn well. She had nothing in common with them as far as she was concerned, although she had to admit that Madeline kept touching a chord of her heart she couldn’t understand.

  Lunch was almost over when Arthur finally found his tongue. “So… how is your married life, Elisabeth?” he asked, wiping the corners of his mouth with a silken serviette.

  Lizzie’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You just couldn’ help it, huh?” she drawled.

  “I beg your pardon?” Arthur looked at her disconcerted. The silence that followed reminded him that his pompous vocabulary wasn’t helping. “What do you mean?” he amended.

  “I mean, you have to pile shit in my plate every damn time you see my face,” Lizzie kept drawling. “Callin’ me Elisabeth, and now askin’ me about my marriage, when you know damn well that when you forced me to do it you sent me to hell.”

  Arthur’s heart constricted with pain. “I’m sorry, Elisa… Lizzie, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that we haven’t seen you in a while, and we haven’t heard from you either. It’s natural that we want to know about you.” He winced at the gloomy look that took hold of her features.

  “The hell it is,” she snapped. “You don’t give a shit, anyway.”

  “Of course we care, my dear,” Madeline intervened gently.

  “Yeah?” Lizzie’s voice exploded across the walls. “Takin’ me from Momma and Johnny is carin’? What ‘bout forcin’ me to marry a stranger?” Her
tone dropped as she pronounced the last words. The latter wasn’t something she could truthfully add to her list of complaints.

  “We have done all these things for your own good, Lizzie,” Arthur responded in kind, his face turning hard. “You would do the same for your children if you were in our shoes. You would strive to offer them the best. A life of luxury, the safe haven of a reputable marriage, an enviable place in the society.”

  Lizzie sprung to her feet and pushed her chair away with the back of her knees, her chest heaving under the spell of her anger. “Yeah? What ‘bout a life that I wanna live with the people I love? With Momma and Johnny. What ‘bout lettin’ me chose my man and not give a damn about what your society says? What ‘bout lettin’ me be happy? Isn’t that the best one could offer to their children?” she retorted furiously.

  Arthur stood up and crossed the distance to her with brisk steps, his eyes burning with pain. He was a million miles away from his daughter in every possible way, and he was never going to get any closer, no matter how hard he tried. “Lizzie,” he started, “I didn’t mean to take any of these from you. I just wanted to…”

  “Don’t you dare lie to me, bastard,” she exploded.

  “Lizzie.” Madeline turned white.

  “You meant every little damn thing you’ve ever done to me,” Lizzie kept going, clenching her fists at her sides. “Are you sayin’ you were tryin’ to do your best when you sent the cops to Momma and Johnny?”

  “Yes,” Arthur said, straightening his back. “I did it out of love for you, Lizzie.”

  She raised her arm to strike his cheek with the back of her hand in a blow that made his head jerk to one side then she left the room with stumpy steps without once looking back.

  Chocking sobs clogged the back of her throat, clustering into a lump that refused to go down. She descended the stairs two at the time, ignoring the claws that sliced at her heart. She had hit her own father. Arthur Wilburn had behaved like a damn pig from the start, visibly ashamed to have a daughter who was nothing more than scum. Yet truth was, he had acted just as she’d have done when he’d sent the cops to the Wallaces’ den. They were, after all, his daughter’s abductors. No matter how his daughter had turned out to be, she was still his child and he was clinging onto her even now, after she’d humiliated him time after time. Lizzie sighed with desperation. What could she make of that man? He was loving her in his own, weird way. A harsh, awkward love that he alone could understand. And she had slapped him for it. Her heart sank.

  Back in the apartment, Arthur stood stiff in the middle of the dining room, his face carved in stone. Madeline looked at him in silence. Even at this moment, her husband’s blatant stubbornness was unmistakable, apparent in the strong, square curvature of his jaws and the straight line of his nose, in the way his nostrils flared like those of a predator and in the deep cleft that dug in his aggressive chin. A defiant display that was not softened by the unexpected youthfulness of his bright blue eyes, for they were cold and piercing, nor by the winter wheat color of his hair. Right now though, Arthur’s gaze was slowly starting to lose its harshness and to turn teary just as his shoulders drooped.

  “I am so sorry, dear,” Madeline murmured, taking a few steps toward him.

  He raised his hand in the air to stop her in her tracks. “I was stupid and vain, Madeline. A bastard, just as she said. And I lost my daughter as a result,” he said.

  “The hell you did,” Lizzie’s voice startled him.

  He whirled on his heels, looking at her with wild eyes. She was standing in the doorway of the main entrance, staring awkwardly at him.

  Lizzie took the few steps that separated them, not once peeling his gaze from him. She placed a hesitant hand on his arm.

  “The hell you did,” she repeated, her voice a murmur.

  Arthur fought the urge to take a mini step back at the shock of her touch. He sent a helpless look to his wife over Lizzie’s top of the head.

  “Go ahead, dear”, Madeline mouthed silent words, encouraging him with a tip of her chin.

  He slowly reached to wrap his arms around his daughter’s thin body.

  Lizzie flinched. “Gotta go now,” she muttered awkwardly, pulling away. “See ya.” Another few seconds and she disappeared.

  Madeline and Arthur looked at each other, a wild hope in their eyes. It was a small, but priceless beginning.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The old tree trunks looked strong and coarse-grained, proudly wearing their crowns of long branches with angular leaves. Somewhere between them the mansion was peeking, its creamy walls and wide windows standing as proof that man had ever stepped foot in this patch of wonderful wilderness.

  Justin kept staring out the window, as the limousine advanced at low speed along the driveway toward the residence’s entrance. He suddenly leaned forward to press the intercom’s button.

  “Stop right here,” he commanded and pushed the door wide open before the car came to a halt.

  A few yards to his left, a rope ladder was dangling from a solid branch of a tall oak. Somewhere up high between the leaves he could see a patch of colors. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

  “You can go home.” He got out of the car and shooed away his chauffeur without looking at him.

  The limousine moved away toward the mansion.

  Justin took a lazy walk toward the oak until he reached the bottom of the ladder. He slowly dropped his jacket and necktie to the ground then started climbing, his gaze glued to the colored patch above.

  “What the hell are you doin’ here?” Lizzie shifted on the branch she was sitting on, staring at him. She moved aside a little to make room for him to take his place on an adjacent branch.

  “Just saw you up here and I decided to pay you a visit.” Justin pursed his lips. “Am I interrupting something?” he inquired, shooting a glance at the pen and notebook she was clasping at her chest.

  She fought the urge to hide the notebook behind her back. “No,” she replied, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks.

  “What were you doing?” he persisted.

  “Uhmm… writin’,” she replied.

  “Oh,” Justin nodded. He looked at her in silence for a moment. His parents had told him her story. She’d never gone to school because of her father. “Who taught you how to write?” he asked.

  “My Momma,” Lizzie said proudly. “She taught me how to read too.”

  He smiled. “So, what were you writing?”

  There was no way on earth he wouldn’t notice her blushing, Lizzie thought miserably. For the past half an hour she’d been bearing her heart on paper. Her pain. Her thoughts about him. Everything she wanted to happen. Every impossible dream.

  “Just some shit,” she muttered.

  “Can I have a look?” he asked.

  “Uh-uh.” She shook her head forcefully, stuffing the pen and the notebook into an oversized pocket of her jeans. Only then did she realize that her heart was madly drumming in her chest. Maybe it was because of the way he was looking at her, with gentle eyes, devoid of the indifference he always displayed when she was around.

  “How was your day?” he asked.

  Her eyes narrowed suddenly. “What the hell do you want, Winters? Did your parents tell you they are gonna take your loot away if you don’t behave like a good husband? I don’t need that crap, you know? Keep the small talk for your hussies,” she snapped at him.

  Justin looked at her open-mouthed. “No, that’s not it… I just wanted to spend some time with you. There’s no need to be so defensive. If you want me to go, I’ll go,” he said, a note of disappointment barely hidden in the tone of his voice.

  Lizzie suddenly felt her cheeks catching fire as she started to regret her stupidity. “No, it’s okay,” she mumbled. “You can stay. How was your day?”

  “Busy,” he replied, nodding slowly.

  They sat on the branches for a while without saying anything, each one of them exceedingly preoccupied to assess the shapes of the
nearby leaves, until the silence became too awkward.

  “Should we go in for dinner?” Justin decided to put an end to it.

  “Yeah,” Lizzie agreed, stifling a sigh of relief.

  He slid off the branch and started descending down the ladder with the agility of a monkey, at times looking up at her to see if she was confident with her footing.

  “Let me help you,” he offered when she almost reached the ground.

  He reached out to wrap his arm around her waist. His hand got caught in her oversized T-shirt as she jumped down from the last step of the ladder. The hem slid up, revealing a large patch of skin from her back.

  “Oh, my God,” Justin gasped, staring in horror at long, wide scars that crisscrossed over the small of her back. “What’s this?”

  Lizzie jerked the hem away from his fingers.

  “Let go, Winters,” she lashed out.

  His eyes filled with pain. Someone had hurt his wife badly at some point in time in her troubled past.

  “Who did this to you, Jimmy?” he asked gently.

  “What the hell do you care, Winters? Leave me alone. You don’t give a damn, anyway,” she bit out staring at him with teary eyes. She then turned her back on him and started running toward the mansion.

  Tears began running down her cheeks, pushed away by the wind, splashing on her glasses. By the time she reached the steps of the house she was out of breath and filled with emotion. For the first time since they had met, her husband had called her by her name. Today, she had been to him Jimmy Winters.

  The silence in the bedroom was only broken by the soft sound of Lizzie’s breathing. Justin strained his ears for the hundredth time, holding his breath as he did. Yes, she was definitely sleeping. He slipped his hand under his pillow and pulled out a small flashlight. That was easy. Now the hard part began.

  Inch after long torturous inch he wriggled his way toward her, praying to God that his squirming wouldn’t wake her. He was only one foot away when he stopped dead in his tracks, as her body flinched and she sobbed in her dream. Finally her soft breathing resumed, and so did the normal beat of his heart.