Rock Harbor Series - 03 - Into the Deep

by Colleen Coble

  He paused near the stream and let the horse catch a drink. He stretched his legs in the stirrups and listened to the water gurgle through the rocks. He sighed, thinking of his sister. If Naomi and Donovan didn’t take the baby, he didn’t know what they’d do. Whenever he tried to talk about a contingency plan with Lauri, she blew up.

  Pulling Moses’s head up, he continued on toward the campground. Voices carried to his ears from just around a bend in the river. Angry voices. He tensed and rounded the bend. Two figures stood in the meadow.

  Kade had seen the man talking to Marika around town, and Molly at the Suomi had introduced them earlier in the summer. Yancy Coppler’s hands were clenched at his side, and he was in Marika’s personal space. She had her arms crossed over her chest and didn’t seem inclined to back away. Kade couldn’t blame him for being mad. NAWG had caused the lab nothing but grief.

  “Anything I can do to help you?” Kade asked, reining in Moses.

  Yancy’s head jerked up. He shook his head as though to clear it and gave a weak imitation of a welcoming smile. “Ranger Matthews.”

  Kade leaned back in the saddle. “Everything okay out here?”

  “He was just ordering me off the property once again,” Marika said, smoothing her slacks. “I have a perfect right to be on park property, isn’t that right, Ranger?”

  “As long as you aren’t breaking any laws.”

  “I never break laws,” she said, smiling.

  He smiled back at her. There was something very engaging about her. “You got a minute?” He didn’t wait for her answer but dismounted and walked toward them after tying Moses to a tree.

  She glanced at her watch. “I need to get back to town by two, but I have time.” she said.

  “I wondered what your group hopes to accomplish here. I tested some five-gallon buckets that had been left by the river, and they contained traces of lawn chemicals. Your group wouldn’t have something to do with that, would they?”

  She raised her delicately shaped eyebrows. “I want to save the fish, not kill them, Ranger Matthews. Have you been inside the lab yet? I still think it’s coming from there.”

  “Not yet, but I will. You were near where I found the buckets.” He’d done some research on her organization, and the rumors of arson and violence had alarmed him.

  “But I had nothing to do with it.”

  She regarded him steadily, and he was inclined to believe her. He softened his tone. “What about your cohorts?”

  “You seem determined to pin this on NAWG. The lab director is your girlfriend’s sister, you know. I can see why you’d want to believe the lab has nothing to do with it.”

  Yancy scowled. “You’re way out of line, lady.”

  Kade shrugged. “And she’s your neighbor.”

  “True. I’d like to help them, but she won’t let me.”

  Her warm smile disarmed him. “You know, the NAWG doesn’t exactly have a stellar reputation, Marika. Everywhere they’ve gone, there have been bombings or vandalism.”

  She grimaced. “I’ve been trying to change that. Don’t color me with the same brush.”

  If she wasn’t telling the truth, she was sure a smooth operator. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said, smiling in spite of himself.

  Her smile deepened, and dimples flashed in her cheek. “Even if the lab isn’t killing the fish, it’s wrong to genetically alter things in our world. If those plants escape into the wild, it could devastate the ecology.”

  Yancy shook his head. “Come on, Marika, this is the U.P. Do you honestly think tobacco can grow here? Our growing season is too short. The plants would die before they ever propagated themselves. You’re not making sense.”

  That seemed to get to her, because she colored. “I have to go. I can see you’re not at all concerned about the truth.” She walked down the path toward the parking lot.

  Yancy swatted at a cloud of gnats. “You think her organization is behind the dead fish?”

  “I don’t know. She seemed sincere,” Kade said.

  “Our research is at a crucial point right now. Phil’s death was a devastating blow. He knew things about the process no one else knew. We can’t have any more disruptions.”

  “Sounds like you need to make sure Cassie’s completely filled in, or get it down on paper just in case.”

  “Oh no, no, I wouldn’t trust it to paper, not with everything that’s been happening.” He swiped at the gnats again. “Dratted bugs. Kill one and a hundred more swoop in to take its place.”

  Our father wants to see you and Davy as much as he can while he’s lucid, Bree. Sunday dinner every week, just like a real family.” Cassie meant to make her half-sister agree, no matter how many objections Bree might raise. “He wants to be part of your life.”

  Bree glanced at her son playing with the figurines. “Davy, why don’t you take Samson out to potty.” Once the boy obeyed, she turned back to Cassie. “I don’t think so, Cassie. We’re not ready yet. We’re here today because you insisted, but I’m not sure I’m ready for a real relationship with expectations on his part. I can stop in occasionally, but not all the time.”

  “You’re not ready, or Davy isn’t ready? Don’t you think he’ll like getting close to a new grandpa before it’s too late?”

  “I think Bernard gave up any rights he had to me and my son long ago.” Bree thrust out her chin. Her lips thinned to a straight line. “You can’t expect to waltz into our lives and have us be one big happy family overnight. I don’t buy this loving-me-from-a-distance stuff.”

  Cassie bristled. “Why don’t you ask him about it yourself? You’re judging and condemning him without a hearing.”

  “Maybe I am. But he condemned me to a rotten childhood. I couldn’t choose then, but I can choose now. And right now I choose not to put myself or Davy in a potentially painful situation. We can get together at holidays, maybe.”

  Cassie curled her fingers into her palms. “I’ve noticed you have no family of your own around, Bree. Your family is your dead husband’s family, no one of your own flesh and blood. Aren’t you the least bit curious to know your own family?”

  That seemed to reach Bree, because she inhaled harshly and looked away. “I always wanted a sister,” she admitted. “But I’m not sure I can trust you. You knew who I was when you first came, didn’t you? And all this time you’ve been sitting back, coming to my training sessions, watching me. Everyone in town accepted you at face value. You were just scoping me out, weren’t you?”

  Heat moved up Cassie’s face. “It sounds awful when you put it like that.”

  “You could have told me who you were when you first came. If your father hadn’t wandered off, would I know who you were even now?”

  “Maybe. I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”

  “When? Christmas? You’ve been here over two months.” Bree’s voice rose, and she looked away. “Where’s your rest room?”

  Cassie told her, and Bree went down the hall. That hadn’t gone well. Bree seemed adamant about keeping them at arm’s length. Davy came back inside with Samson. The little boy sat beside her on the sofa, and she put her arm around him. The warmth of his small body seeped into her. Her nephew. It seemed surreal. All these years with no family except for her dad, and now she had a nephew. And a sister. At least Davy had no trouble accepting her affection.

  She’d find a way to break through Bree’s reserve. Davy began to fidget. “Where’s Mommy?”

  Bree came back into the room, and Davy ran to her. “Mommy, I want to see my new grandpa! When’s he coming?”

  “Soon, sweetie.” Her gaze questioned Cassie.

  “I’ll go check on him in a few minutes,” Cassie said.

  “Why don’t you take Samson out in the backyard and play Frisbee?” Bree told Davy.

  Her tactic to distract him worked. He called to the dog, and they both scrambled for the sliding glass door to the back.

  Bree sat on the sofa and rubbed her hand through her
hair. “When did you learn about us?”

  “Last summer. I found the pictures and letters from your mother when I was looking for some research notes Dad had squirreled away.”

  “Research notes. I’ve gathered he’s a scientist. What did he do . . . before . . . ?”

  Cassie nodded. “Our present formula was his brainchild, though Phil and Yancy have refined it.” She smiled. “Poor Dad can’t let go of it. He insists he found something even more wonderful. That’s the worst thing about his disease—he can’t quite figure out what has really happened and what hasn’t.”

  “Did you confront him about the pictures as soon as you found them?”

  “Yes.” Cassie couldn’t help the scowl that tightened her mouth.

  “I can see by your face it wasn’t a welcome revelation.”

  “I couldn’t believe he would keep something like that from me.” She finally met Bree’s gaze. “I remembered you so well. I idolized you and cried for you for months after we moved away. I was angry with him when I found out you were my sister all these years and I never even knew it.”

  Bree’s stony expression softened. “I remember you too. I used to pretend you were my little sister.”

  Cassie couldn’t bear to look at Bree, so she picked up a picture she’d laid out and handed it to her sister. “Remember this? We were at the park by the river.”

  Bree took the picture and stared at it. “I remember. You spilled Kool-Aid on your new dress.”

  “You gave me one of your T-shirts to wear. I still have it.”

  Bree’s head jerked up, and her eyes went wide. She swallowed. “This is hard, Cassie,” she whispered in a husky voice. “Can I see the rest of the pictures?”

  The request caught her off guard. “Sure.” Cassie got the box from the closet shelf and opened it. She pulled out a packet of letters held together with a wide rubber band. “Here are the letters.” Bree needed to read the letters first. They would explain everything.

  Bree just looked at them for a moment. She finally reached out to take them. Barely glancing at the top envelope, she laid them beside her.

  “Don’t you want to read them?”

  “I can’t just yet.”

  “You won’t understand if you don’t read them.”

  “I doubt I’ll understand anyway.” Bree glanced in the box. “These the pictures?”

  Cassie pulled a small photo album from the shoe box. “You can tell he looked at it a lot. See how tattered the plastic is?”

  Bree looked down at the album in Cassie’s hands. “Cold and neglect can do that to plastic too.”

  Cassie gritted her teeth, the warmth of the moment broken. “You’re determined not to understand, aren’t you? He loves you!”

  “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe that,” Bree said. “I wouldn’t treat Samson the way he left me to be treated.”

  “He had no choice.”

  “We always have a choice. I don’t believe in the victim mentality.”

  “You’re acting like a victim right now! You have the choice to give him a chance to explain himself, and you’ve already made up your mind.”

  Bree withdrew, and Cassie knew she’d scored a point. Spots of color stained Bree’s cheeks. “I can’t stand any more hurt in my life,” she mumbled. “And neither can Davy.”

  “Would you just look at the pictures?”

  Bree looked away.

  “Take them! I was so wrong about you,” Cassie burst out. “The first time I met you, I thought you were the most extraordinarily brave woman I’d ever seen. But you’re nothing but a coward.”

  Bree jerked her head around. “I’m not afraid.”

  “Aren’t you? Why else would you refuse to look at pictures that can’t hurt you? Why else would you deny your own father his dying request?”

  “Dying?”

  “Yes, dying. Alzheimer’s is a killer. But even more, he has cancer.” Cassie wished she could snatch the words back. Her father had asked her not to tell Bree. He didn’t want her to know until they had a chance to get to know one another.

  Bree blanched. “How bad?”

  “Inoperable brain cancer,” Cassie snapped. She rubbed her eyes. “I’m taking him to the nursing home tomorrow. We both know it’s time. He’s been wandering more. I have no choice. Satisfied at his punishment? The man who abandoned you will get his just desserts. All we want is a normal family dinner here once a week.”

  “I never said I wanted him to be punished.” Bree rubbed her forehead. “This isn’t easy, Cassie.”

  “I never said it would be. But you can make his final days happy. Is it too much to ask to visit him once a week?” Cassie was prepared to beg if she had to.

  Bree sighed and bit her lip. She flipped open the photo album. “I never knew my mother took these.” She studied the photos of herself as a small child, maybe seven or eight. “All my school pictures are here too.”

  “I told you—he kept tabs on you.” Cassie wanted to force her to see the truth. “You’re a mother. Have you never made a mistake with your son? All parents do things they wish they could go back and change.”

  Bree didn’t meet her gaze. “I’d never abandon Davy.”

  “Dad had a lot going on in his life right then. He loved you though.”

  “Then why didn’t he ever contact me?”

  Cassie nodded toward the door. “Here he comes. Let’s ask him.”

  9

  Naomi felt glum as she sat on the park swing. Watching Timmy laughing on the teetertotter outside the library, she wondered how she could protect the children from the coming upheaval. Donovan had been shaken at the news of Marika’s return, and the last few days they’d both held their breath. Emily had been the worst, screaming she wanted to see her mother.

  It had to be hard to be an abandoned kid.

  The black flies had fled into the warm, dry air, and Naomi lifted her face to the sun. The swing swayed beneath her, and she felt the tension ease from her shoulders. She would spend this time praying like she should have done right from the first. God would see them through this trial.

  Charley barked and ran back and forth between her and Timmy. Strange the park was so deserted today. It was an ideal day for being outside. A glint caught her attention, and she turned to look. Lauri’s old Plymouth was pulling in beside her car.

  “How’d you know where to find me?” Naomi called, watching Lauri walk toward her with her characteristic long, swinging strides. The girl got prettier every day. Pregnancy had brought that characteristic bloom to her complexion, and Naomi was surprised at the intensity of the envy that stabbed her. She would never be more than just passably pretty, though Donovan swore she was beautiful.

  “I didn’t. I was driving by on my way to work. I was early so I thought I’d stop for a minute.” Lauri sat in the swing beside Naomi.

  “You look marvelous.” Naomi knew what Lauri wanted.

  “I feel pretty good.” Lauri made a face. “I’m just glad the morning sickness is over.” She kicked the toe of her sneaker into the dirt and pushed the swing into movement. “I wondered if you and Donovan had made a decision yet on the baby?”

  “I wish I could give you an answer,” she said. “For lots of reasons, I’d like to do it, Lauri. But we’re still adjusting to married life, and I’m not sure bringing another child into the mix with Timmy and Emily is the right thing to do. We’re still praying about it.”

  Lauri’s smile faded. “When do you think you’ll know? The uncertainty is really bugging me.”

  “Sorry.” Naomi smiled at her and put all the plea she could into her gaze. “Just give us a little more time, okay? Have you thought about what you’ll do if the Lord tells us no?”

  Lauri frowned. “Not really. I don’t think he’ll say no.”

  “Um, just because we want something badly doesn’t mean God is going to do it.”

  “The Bible says he will give us the desires of our heart.”

  Naomi shook
her head. “It says, ‘Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.’ When we’re delighting in him, our desires come in line with his, not his with what we want.”

  “Then what good does it do to pray?” Lauri’s lower lip trembled like a child’s.

  “What do you think prayer is supposed to accomplish? God isn’t like a genie in a bottle who will do whatever we ask. Prayer is about talking with God, getting to know him, learning to love the things he loves. He’s preparing us to be fit citizens for the kingdom to come, and his goal isn’t to give us everything we want in this world. Don’t you want whatever God knows is best?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess. But it seems so obvious.”

  “But we can’t see the end result. You just have to trust God to see the beginning from the end.”

  “Trust is hard for me,” Lauri admitted. “I keep thinking about how much I prayed when Mom got sick. The preacher had been talking about trust, and I told God I’d trust whatever he knew was best. Then Mom died, and I felt like it was all my fault.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I know it’s hard to lose your mom, but God had a purpose in it. We likely won’t see it this side of heaven though.” Naomi wondered what God’s purpose was in letting Marika back in their lives. Telling Lauri to trust him was one thing, but it was harder to do when it was her own happiness at risk. What if Donovan took one look at Marika and discovered he still loved her? She gulped and pushed her swing. Better not to even think about it.

  “You have to adopt my baby, Naomi,” Lauri burst out. “If I give it to an adoption agency, I’ll never see it again. At least I’d be able to watch him or her grow up.”

  So that’s what this was all about. “I thought you didn’t want to stay in Rock Harbor, that you wanted to spread your wings and fly away.”

  “I did. I mean, I do! But I’d know right where you were and that the baby was all right.”

  “I’ll talk to Donovan,” was all Naomi could say. It wasn’t fair to Lauri to keep her in limbo.

  Bree didn’t know what she was doing here. She’d determined not to let herself be coerced into sitting and talking over old times. But Cassie had somehow managed it. Bree couldn’t deny the emotional tug she felt toward her sister. She remembered a lot more than she’d told Cassie she did. The times when “Uncle Bernard” and his daughter were around had been the best days of her life.