The Star of All Valleys

by Vicki H. Cutler

The Star of All Valleys

  Vicki H. Cutler

  Copyright 2010 Vicki H. Cutler

  Chapter 1

  The thermostat needle was nearing the red zone as the pickup labored up yet another long mountain pass. Finally reaching the summit, Willy heaved a sigh of relief and pulled the camper to the side of the road into a broad gravel view area. These mountains were magnificent. Through a gap to the north she took in the vista of the valley she had driven so far to reach. She reached for her camera to get some pictures from this view. The magazine may like to use them for her article. Grateful that the kids were still asleep in the back, she had a minute to look around and snap some pictures both of the mountain pass and the valley opening below.

  "I hope this is all worth it," she thought. "Most of our savings is tied up in this little venture. I hope I can get the pictures and information I need and sell the article for more than this trip cost." She was so sick of worrying about money. Ever since Ryan died, it had been one headache after another. At least the kids were still small enough to be mostly unaware of financial matters.

  "Are we there yet?" a small voice from the overhead bed called.

  "Almost. I just stopped to take pictures. It's beautiful here," Willy answered. "Come down and see."

  Both kids slid off the bed and put their shoes on. Willy went around the back to open the door. She lowered the steps and the kids jumped out, blinking in the strong afternoon sunshine.

  "It's cool here," Allison said, spreading her arms wide. She climbed a little way up the hillside and surveyed the area. "Look at those high mountains! Can we climb them?"

  Jeffy pointed too, his eyes wide. Then he caught sight of a deer halfway up the hill, running between the trees. He made little squealing noises and jumped up and down, beside himself with excitement. Willy lifted him in her arms so he could see better and they all watched until the deer disappeared over the ridge. The kids jumped down and ran around exploring the area while she went to the camper to wake up her sister, Aggie.

  "Come on, sis, wake up! Look at this view!" Willy called. "It's only a few miles to the campground."

  Aggie hopped out of the truck clumsily, not quite awake, but immediately became alert when she saw the beauty surrounding them. It looked a bit different from back home, but she loved seeing all the new places her sister brought her.

  Anxious to reach the valley ahead, they squeezed into the cab and Willy drove slowly down the steep grades to the mouth of Salt River Canyon. There spread out before them was a long, narrow valley, surrounded by foothills rising to higher ranges. It was mostly farmland with small, older homes and decrepit, unpainted barns. “Help me find the sign to Cottonwood Campground,” Willy said, but they had reached Smoot without seeing anything.

  "We'll have to stop and ask directions, I guess," said Willy. “We must have missed it.” She stopped at the only place of business in sight and went inside. Returning after a few minutes, she turned the truck around and drove half a mile back up the road. The sign was very small and brown and it was no wonder they had missed it.

  "The man said it is seven miles on a dirt road to the campground," she said. "I hope this old truck can get over the ruts." She drove carefully for what seemed like twenty miles over a winding and very narrow road and was despairing of ever getting there when they finally spotted a sign announcing that they had arrived. They followed the road around a sharp curve and there, partly shaded by the surrounding mountains, was the lake. It was small and deep green and the kids noticed a little waterfall at one end which emptied into the creek they had been following all the way up the canyon. They wanted to get out right there, but Willy insisted that they find a campsite first and get settled in.

  She drove through the whole area with first one then the other claiming that this site or that site was the best one of all. They finally agreed on one with no close neighbors and a restroom just a short walk away. Willy inexpertly backed the truck into their spot then started to level the camper with the jacks while the kids explored the area. It was a hard job for a woman, but she was used to it after a couple of weeks on the road. She was building some strength gradually.

  That done, she picked up a water jug and went to find the closest pump. Not knowing what to look for, she walked right by it. After she had passed three or four camp sites, she started wondering if she had chosen a primitive area.

  Willy kept walking for a little way and then her heart leaped into her throat. "It's only a dog," she told herself, but felt the old panic rising as she watched it catch her scent and raise its head. It was a big dog of nondescript coloring with a waving plume of tail. Woofing in a friendly way, it trotted straight for her. Her control vanished, and letting out a scream she ran for the nearest tree. She scrambled up the lower limbs and then couldn't reach any more. Terrified, she looked down and saw that the dog thought it was a game and had jumped up on the trunk to bark at her.

  "Breathe deep, hang on, calm down," she thought as she tried to steady herself. After trying to slow down the thud of her heart, she looked around for help. She saw it coming in the form of a tall, green-uniformed forest ranger. Her fear turned to embarrassment when she saw the amused look on his face.

  "From the color of the hair, I'd say you have a cougar treed, Suzy," he drawled, looking up at the tawny mane framing her face. "Are you okay, Ma'am?" he asked when he saw the terror in her eyes. "Susy wouldn't hurt a fly. I'm right sorry she scared you so bad." He grabbed the dog's collar and told her to sit and be quiet. "Here, let me help you out of there," he smiled up at Willy.

  She looked down into the deepest brown eyes she'd ever seen. Her heart did a little jump but she told herself it was still fear of the dog. She reached her hands down to meet his, but he said, apparently still amused, "Nope, not a cougar! It's just a scared kitten." She climbed down a few branches until she could put her hands on his broad shoulders and he reached for her waist. She jumped from the limb and he guided her gently to the ground. Instead of releasing her from his grasp, he looked at her white face and terrified eyes and drew her close to his chest. "Are you all right?" he asked softly. "You look like you've been treed by a bear."

  Shakily, Willy forced herself to push away from his broad, comforting chest. "I just have a phobia about dogs," she explained. "One knocked me down and bit me pretty badly when I was little and I've never been able to shake the fear." She started to thank him, her eyes on Suzy, sitting obediently nearby, but the adrenalin high was suddenly gone and her knees buckled. He caught her again in his strong arms and swung her up against his chest.

  "Are you camping here?" he asked. "I think I'll just carry you home, if you don't mind." He turned to the dog. "Go back to the station, Suzy. Go! Go back!" The dog turned and loped off in the direction they had come.

  "We're at Campsite Number Seventeen," she said. "I can walk. I'm fine. Just let me sit down and I'll be all right in a minute."

  "Oh, no," he said, teasingly, reassured by the returning color in her cheeks. "It's not every day I get to rescue a damsel in distress. I'm going to take full advantage of your weakness."

  A different fear appeared in her eyes and she stiffened in his arms. He saw it and immediately set her on her feet. "I’m sorry! I didn't mean to scare you again, Ma'am," he said humbly. "I would like to be sure you get to camp safely since I caused all this trouble." He bent and picked up the water jug. "Is something wrong with the hydrant in your camp area?" he asked.

  "Uh, I haven't found one yet," she answered. She was both relieved and sorry to be out of his arms. She had felt something stir during their closeness that she hadn't felt for a very long time.   His dark hair and eyes were so much different than Ryan’s blond ones, but his strength a
nd height were similar. Those eyes were so kind and gentle looking.

  He pointed to a hydrant in the next site and said, "They kind of blend in when you don't know what to look for.

  Embarrassed, she took the jug and said, "Thanks. The kids will laugh when they find out I've walked all this way for nothing."

  "Kids? You have kids?" He sounded surprised, then his voice changed to a wry note. "Your husband will have a lot to say, too, I suppose."

  "Oh, no, my husband is …," she stopped as she remembered that she always had to be careful around men. She was trim and attractive and had endured too many experiences with nice, gentle-looking guys who took every advantage they could when they thought she was defenseless. "I'm--uh--sure he won't say anything," she said lamely. "We're here to enjoy Wyoming and to do some research on the intermitting spring. We happened to hear about it from some friends and it sounded interesting and unusual,” she rushed on. “Maybe you can tell me whom to contact to get directions and information about it."

  "Research?" he asked. "Is your husband a geologist?"

  "Oh, no. Actually, I'm the one doing the research," she said. "I want to do an article to sell to some travel magazines. We spend vacations travelling in different states and I write articles and do picture features about the things we see to sell to the tourism bureaus. It's a fun way to make a little money." She waited for him to ask what her husband did, but he just picked up the jug she had dropped again in her agitation.

  "You must like the great outdoors as much as I do," he observed. "I've got to go back to the station and get the guys lined up for tomorrow's work, but you're welcome to come over any time. I'm sure whoever is there will give you directions and tell you what they know. That spring is an amazing phenomenon," he said. "Are you feeling strong enough now to make it back to your campsite? It's a ways."

  "Yes, yes, I'm fine now that the dog's gone. I've got to get over that stupid phobia," she assured him. "Thank you so much for rescuing me." As he turned to go, she caught her breath at the wide expanse of his shoulders, the trim, strong legs, and the darkness of the hair under his ranger's hat. Then, suddenly realizing that she didn't have an idea which way Campsite Number Seventeen was, she called, "Oh, sir!"

  He turned at her call, a questioning look in his eyes. "I guess I lost my sense of direction when I ran from the dog. Which way is Number Seventeen?" she asked in an embarrassed voice.

  He pointed, then said with a reassuring smile, "The name's Bell, Ma'am. Max Bell. That reminds me--why don't you give me your name so I can make my report? I have to report all unusual occurrences."

  Aghast that her behavior had to be made part of the public record, she pleaded, "Surely you don't have to report this nonsense? I acted like a silly schoolgirl. Please, can't you just forget it?"

  "Just the facts, Ma'am, just the facts," he teased her. "Nobody ever reads my reports anyway, so you're safe. Just give me your name or I'll have to describe you as, let's see, 'A tree-climbing woman with cougar-colored hair and a piercing scream.'"

  "Willy," she replied hastily. "Well, actually, Willa. Willa Milton."

  She was surprised to see a distant look come into his eyes. "Willa," he repeated softly. "That's a name you don't hear often anymore. It was my grandmother's name."

  Muttering words of thanks, Willy turned to go and felt his eyes on her as she walked self-consciously down the road. She hurried faster when she realized that she had left the kids alone for quite a while. Thank goodness Aggie was responsible. Remembering the jug that was still empty, she kept an eye out for a water tap. She found one by Number Twenty-three and filled it. Walking with one arm out to balance the weight, she staggered into camp. A look of annoyance passed over her face as she saw Aggie and the kids clustered around a hydrant just past their table. They were throwing water and squealing in delight. "I carried this water all that way and we have one right here?" she asked herself. "How did I miss it? I could have saved myself a lot of grief." Then she remembered that if she hadn't been looking for water, she wouldn't have gotten treed, and rescued. Her eyes turned dreamy for a minute then she shook her head to clear it and set to work.

  She got towels to dry everyone off. The water was ice cold and they were shivering in spite of the warm August afternoon sunshine. She sent them off to gather wood and soon everyone was warmed and hungry. She finally got a fire started in the firepit and they roasted hot dogs and "smashmallows" as Jeffy called them. After they cleaned up, they sat around the fire while darkness settled in. There was such peace here. She looked at her children gazing into the fire and felt such love and joy.

  Her own lonesome heart longed for strong arms to hold her and her thoughts stole back to earlier this afternoon when she had been held by a pair of just such arms. How warm they had been. She shivered with remembered feelings. Max. That was a strong, capable name, she thought. She daydreamed a little about a broad chest and dark brown eyes, then mentally shook herself. "He thinks you’re married, sweetie," she thought. "Plus, widows with little kids don’t usually get a second glance."