Forbidden Spirits

by Patricia Watters

  "Well, Swenson's not any use to me right now," Tess said. "If he doesn't show up soon, I'll have to let him go." She licked warm icing from her fingers, then said to her father, "If Carl Yaeger buys the tract, do you think he'll allow us to cut through his land like we always have?"

  "I hope so," Gib replied. "If he doesn't we're in trouble. There's no other access to the pole timber, unless de Neuville lets us go through his land, and we know the answer to that."

  "Have you ever had our property surveyed?" Tess asked, jumping at the opportunity to broach the subject of the cut trees.

  "There's no need," Gib replied. "I know where the line runs."

  "How do you know if you've never had it surveyed?" Tess asked. "You could end up accidentally cutting timber on someone else's land. It just seems like a good idea to make sure."

  Gib eyed Tess with annoyance. "I'm not going to pay some half-wit to come with his fancy equipment and try to tell me what I already know."

  "Then I'll do it for you," Tess said. "That way we'll find out exactly where the line runs so we won't have to worry."

  "I'm not worried," Gib said, "and I don't want to hear any more about surveys."

  "If you don't want to hear about it from me, you'll be hearing from Jean-Pierre de Neuville," Tess said, her voice rising with her frustration, "because he did have a survey done and it shows that the property line runs forty feet from where you think it is."

  Gib said nothing, his means of ending the discussion, and Tess knew better than to pursue the issue. But after he finished eating and left to work on his truck, Ella said, "He gets more stubborn as he gets older, so you might as well save your breath about those trees. How was the cabin? I'd hoped to get out there and scrub it down before you moved in."

  "It was in pretty good shape," Tess replied. "A little sweeping and it was livable."

  Ella sighed. "I don't know why your father's holding onto the place. Everything needs painting or fixing. He'll work himself to death out there."

  "He'll die quicker if he sells and does nothing," Tess said. "It would be like admitting to himself that he's old and washed up, and he's not ready for that, and when he does decide to sell, I know he'll hold out until he gets what he thinks the business is worth, whether it is or not."

  "You're right about that," Ella agreed. "But it'll be years before the timber industry recovers from the slump, and running the camp's not a life for you."

  "I don't plan to run it forever," Tess said, "but I do want to get the business out of the red and Dad through this period."

  "Well, I don't like the idea of you out there in the cabin with no one else around," Ella said.

  Tess gave Ella a confident smile. "The men are five minutes up the road at the bunkhouse."

  "You don't know those men," Ella said. "A pretty woman alone out there can be a real drawing card. I just wish there were permanent neighbors in the area. With all the woods around the cabin, someone could be hiding out."

  Tess eyed Ella with uncertainty, and said, "Zak's next door."

  For a moment Ella said nothing. Then her forehead puckered, and she looked at Tess with skepticism, and said, "Zak de Neuville?"

  Tess nodded. "He's the one who brought up the subject of the survey. Dad told one of the men to thin the trees along the strip of land between the dirt road and the de Neuville's property, and those trees are not on de Neuville land. Four trees have already been cut."

  Ella eyed Tess over the rim of her cup. "I'm sure Gib knows where the property line runs."

  "That's the problem," Tess said. "He thinks he knows, but he's wrong. Zak showed me the survey map. He said his father's threatening to sue us for cutting the trees."

  Ella looked directly at Tess and said, in a guarded voice, "Have you been seeing Zak de Neuville again?"

  "No," Tess replied. "Well, after work yesterday I saw him briefly, but only for him to show me the survey map, but I'm not... seeing him."

  Ella drew in an extended breath. "Does your father know he's back?"

  "No."

  "Then you'd better not say anything about it," Ella said. "It'll just get him riled again."

  Tess toyed with telling her about taking Zak up in the plane, now that she knew Zak was back, then discarded that idea. Aunt Ella had enough on her mind, worrying about her stubborn brother, without brooding about his reaction to learning Zak was back.

  ***

  The next day, as Tess pulled up to Zak's cabin to pick him up, she was surprised to find an old car, in the process of being restored, parked beside Zak's truck. The car's body was covered with gray primer and the rear end was jacked high with oversized tires, and inside, a grouping of beads and feathers hung from the rearview mirror. With mounting curiosity, she stepped onto the porch. But before she could knock, Zak opened the door, and said, "Come on in. Vince was about to leave. You remember my brother."

  Tess looked beyond Zak at a young man wearing a black leather jacket, faded jeans with holes in them, and dirty sneakers. Where the jacket gaped open, she saw the grotesquely contorted face of a rock star on a tight black T-shirt. Vince's mouth was planted in a slash, and his dark eyes shone with irritation, though she sensed it wasn't aimed at her. "Yes," she replied, trying to assimilate the change from a bright-eyed youth of thirteen to this angry young man of twenty. "It's nice to see you again, Vince."

  Vince nodded, and said nothing.

  Tess lowered herself to the couch, and Zak sat in an overstuffed chair across from her, but Vince remained standing. From the somber look on his face, and the frustration on Zak's, Tess suspected they'd been having an argument. She was about to suggest she come back later, when she was distracted by movement and looked toward the hallway to see a young boy rolling a truck into the room. When the boy raised curious eyes to meet Tess's gaze, her lips parted in surprise. It was as if she were peering into Zak's gray-green eyes. The boy scrambled over to stand beside Zak, studying her from within the circle of Zak's arm. His young face was topped by a shock of wavy black hair, and in his chin was a small cleft.

  Looking from the boy to Zak, Tess waited for Zak to explain.

  Zak drew the boy against him, and said, "This is Pio, my son."

  At first Tess stared blankly at the boy. Then she focused on his features. There was no question. This boy was indeed Zak's son. And the boy's mother, Zak's wife? Where was she?

  Tess gave the boy a nervous smile, and said, "Hi."

  The boy didn't smile back. Instead, he looked at Zak and said something in Basque. When Zak nodded, the boy scurried outside. Tess glanced out the window at the boy, who was pushing a larger truck across the ground. He appeared to be about six years old. Which meant... Zak must have either impregnated a woman or married her shortly after he left, seven years before...

  "Father's damn traditions are straight out of another world," Vince said, his heated words punctuating the pounding of Tess's heart. "And I'll tell you another thing. I won't marry a Basque girl just because he's decided I will."

  Zak looked at Tess, and said, "Excuse us a minute." He took Vince's arm and led him onto the porch then pulled the front door shut behind them.

  Although their voices were muffled, Tess could still make out what they were saying...

  "He's a proud man and the old traditions have been right for him," Zak said. "It's only natural he wants the same for you."

  "That's fine for you to say, you're etcheko primu. Firstborn," Vince spat the words. "The winery will be yours, if you marry a Basque woman and fit into Father's mold."

  Zak sighed. "You know you always have a place there."

  "I'd die of boredom in Navarre."

  The long silence that followed was broken by Zak. "You don't have to turn your back on all the values you were taught in order to be your own person."

  "And I don't have to hang around here and listen to this crap either," Vince said. "I thought at least you'd understand, but you're no different from him. You'll do exactly as Father says. Marry a Basque woman, stay
at the ranch, and live his life for him. I hope you enjoy it."

  "I've been where you are, caught between two worlds," Zak said, "but there is a middle ground. You just have to find it and convince Father."

  Vince gave a cynical snort. "Ever try moving a mountain?"

  Zak ignored the remark. "Meanwhile, try not to irritate him."

  "Which means, tell him what he wants to hear. I can't do that."

  "Try," Zak said. "And thanks for bringing Pio along today, even if the visit's short."

  Vince eyed Pio, affectionately. "There was no way I could get out of it. He had to tell you about the kittens."

  Zak stepped off the porch and crouched in front of Pio, and said, "I'll be anxious to hear what you name your new pal."

  Pio's face brightened. "When can I bring him here?" he asked in an animated voice.

  "When he's six weeks old," Zak replied. "Meanwhile, I'll come for you next weekend and we'll go find some eagles, maybe do a nest climb. How would you like that?"

  Pio grinned. "I'd like that."

  After Vince left with Pio, Zak went back inside and collected several maps from the kitchen table, and they left in Tess's Jeep. But while they were driving to the airpark, he said to Tess, "I should have told you about Pio. I didn't expect Vince to come by with him today and I planned to tell you about him later."

  "It doesn't matter," Tess said. "That was a long time ago." She was determined to ask no questions about Zak's past, or about the mother of his son. It would be too degrading. And maybe her father was right. Maybe Zak used her. Maybe what they had going that summer was nothing more than teenage hormones coupled with Zak's promises of forever to keep the sex coming. She'd definitely given him reason to come back for more. She liked having sex with him too, but what was more important for her was the aftermath of their lovemaking, when Zak talked about how it would be for them someday...

  "To answer at least one of your questions," Zak said, "my wife died about four months ago so I have full care of our son."

  Tess fingers curled around the wheel. The word our didn't compute. She'd never imagined a son of Zak's not being her son as well. But what was almost as troubling was that Zak, a widower of only four months, had come close to kissing her two nights before. Not exactly a grieving widower. But Zak was obviously not a one-woman man either. He'd proved that the summer he loved her and left her and married another woman shortly afterwards.

  Still, she found herself saying, "It must be difficult for you."

  "It is for Pio," Zak replied. "My wife and I separated some time ago. I had no idea how tough it was to be a single parent, shuffling job and family and school, being there when Pio's sick. There's no question, a young child needs a mother. As it is, Pio's with my folks during the week so he can go to the Basque school in Navarre, and I go there on weekends. But as soon as school's out, he'll be moving into the cabin with me. We need to make our own adjustments."

  Tess tried to get beyond her bitterness toward Zak by saying, "My father faced the same dilemma when he took over the role of both parents when my mother died of the aneurism when I was nine. Nothing seemed to go right back then. Meals were terrible, the house was a mess, and neither of us cared, and I had no direction or guidance. Fortunately, Aunt Ella moved in and took over, and our lives fell into place again." She glanced at Zak, and added, "What you need is an Aunt Ella."

  "It isn't about what I need," Zak said. "It's about Pio, and he needs a mother."

  "Then I guess you'd better start looking for a wife," Tess clipped, "presumably Basque, if you don't want to be in trouble with your father."

  When Zak said nothing, Tess realized that was precisely what he intended to do.

  Thirty minutes later, after filing a flight plan, Tess gave the plane its preflight check, taxied to the end of the runway, checked the flaps, and took off. They headed toward Timber West and the ridge where Zak wanted to look for the first nest. Sitting close to him in the small cabin conjured up images from the past when she'd be riding with Zak in his truck, and she'd rest her hand on his thigh, or snuggle against his shoulder, or give him a kiss on the jaw...

  Zak interrupted her timeworn memories, by saying, "When we locate the nest, dip the wing so I can get a good look inside."

  Tess shifted her thoughts to the panorama below. Within minutes, they skimmed over Timber West land. She spotted Zak's cabin and hers, and just beyond a patch of woods was the clearing with the logging camp. "Where should we start looking for the nest?" she asked.

  Zak scanned the forest below. "In the old-growth timber on the ridge. Look for an old snag."

  Tess turned the plane in a wide arc toward the ridge and flew low over the treetops. "There's a pretty big stand of old-growth just above where we're getting ready to cut pole timber," she said. "There's also some on Carl Yaeger's tract. My dad wanted to buy that piece of land a few years ago. He could have paid for it with those old trees."

  "That's our biggest problem with the eagle population," Zak said, "harvesting old-growth. If it isn't stopped, there won't be any trees strong enough to support nests."

  "We always leave a lot of good-sized second growth," Tess assured him.

  "Are the trees big enough to support a two-ton nest?" Zak asked.

  Tess looked askance at him. "Aren't you exaggerating?"

  "No. Some older nests are eight feet across and six feet deep," Zak replied. "They can easily weigh two tons." He sat up straight. "Over there!" He pointed to a massive nest of coarse limbs atop a huge fir. Tess maneuvered the plane near the nest and dipped the wing. "Twins!" Zak exclaimed. "Looks like the tree's fairly accessible too. Circle once more before we head out. I want to look for perch nests."

  "What are those?" Tess asked, as she guided the plane in a wide arc.

  "Unoccupied nests eagles use as perches for spotting prey and roosting at night."

  Tess circled the old-growth once more, while Zak logged his findings, then they headed east toward McKenzie and Plum lakes. As they slowly gained altitude, Tess felt the exhilaration of flying again. "My biggest regret about my divorce was that David got the plane," she said.

  After a stretch of silence, Zak commented, "How old were you when you married?"

  "Eighteen," Tess replied, feeling some satisfaction that he'd asked the question. She hoped he'd take her answer as meaning she hadn't sat around waiting for him to come back, like the gullible, trusting little fool she'd been. He didn't need to know she'd spent her days doing just that, all the while hoping and praying he'd appear one day with a perfectly logical explanation as to why he'd left. And her world would be right again...

  "Was he from Baker’s Creek?" Zak asked.

  "Seattle," Tess replied. "He'd been flying into Baker’s Creek every week to work on a big house he was contracted to build, and we met at the airpark."

  "Where is he now?" Zak asked, while scanning the forest below.

  "I don't know," Tess replied. "He moved east and I haven't heard from him since. What about you? Where have you been for the past seven years?" She'd had no intention of prying into Zak's past, but the question popped out.

  "Mostly France and Washington," Zak replied.

  "Why France?" Tess asked, surprised he'd been out of the country. She'd always imagined him in Navarre with his parents.

  "My father sent me there to learn about Basque wines," Zak replied. Looking into the distance, he said, while pointing, "There's McKenzie Lake. Circle a little lower if you can."

  Tess didn't reply because her attention was drawn to the grayish specks flipping against the windscreen. She eased the controls back and the plane leveled off before slowly rising as they headed for the ranger station at Pine Lake. For the moment they cruised smoothly, but while Zak was watching the thick forest closing in on the valley below, Tess was scanning the panorama below for other reasons. "That's oil on the windscreen," she stated. "We have to land."

  Zak looked up and saw the specks. "Land where? There's nothing but forest down there." />
  "The ranger station should be just over the ridge," Tess said. "Start looking for the lake. There's a grass airstrip alongside it." She focused again on the specks of oil, which now merged together and were moving in grayish streaks up the windscreen. "We've got to get down fast!"

  The engine began to sputter. "Jesus," Zak said. "The engine's about to cut out!"

  "We can glide in if we can find the airstrip," Tess said. "Just keep looking for the lake. It can't be more than five minutes from here... I hope." Squinting through the murky windscreen, she scanned the terrain in the distance and spotted a silvery patch. "There's Pine Lake!" she exclaimed, "but I don't see the landing strip." She leaned forward, focusing on the opening in the woods where the lake lay, then through an oil-splattered windscreen she saw a cleared strip that served as a landing field. "Darn that landing strip's short," she said. "I hope the wind's right because we won't have second chance to approach from the other direction. As it is, we'll have to dip in over the tall trees at this end."

  She banked the plane in a sweeping turn to align with the landing field below, then throttled back, lowered the flaps, and continued to nose the plane down. As they dropped toward the runway, Tess saw a windsock perched atop a tree and realized, with alarm, that they were approaching with the wind. "The wind's wrong for us," she said. "We're coming in too fast." She scanned the field for obstructions and studied the trees at each end of the narrow, grassy strip.

  The engine sputtered, cut out and sputtered again.

  She advanced the throttle slightly. "This is going to be a hot landing, and it better work the first time because we won't get a second chance," she said, her heart pounding so hard she felt lightheaded. She gripped the wheel. "Okay. Here we go. Put your head in your lap for the landing and be ready to jump out and run in case there’s a fire…"

  BROKEN PROMISES to be continued

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