Stranded

by Patricia H. Rushford

  Jennie searched the ground looking for tracks but found nothing to indicate which direction this horse had gone. There were tracks going both directions.

  “Which way, God?” Jennie stuffed her gloved hands into the pockets of the ski jacket. Jennie envisioned the religious compound again and kept going in the northeast direction she’d settled on at the plane.

  By three o’clock, Jennie was ready to turn back. The sky had turned dark as dusk. Snow fell in slanting sheets, whipping against her face. Once again Jennie fought off the rising panic. What if she froze to death? It might be spring before her body was found. If it ever was.

  She pinched her eyes shut. “Get a grip, Jennie,” she could almost hear her grandmother’s calm, reassuring voice say. “You can’t let yourself think that way. You’ll be all right. Just think it through.”

  Jennie nodded in response to her invisible guide. She had to find shelter and fast. About fifty feet off the side of the trail, Jennie saw another large outcropping of jagged rocks. Snow lay in the crevices. Maybe she could find a nook to protect her from the wind. She left the trail and began climbing. The hill was steep and dangerously slippery. About twenty feet up, she stopped to rest on a ledge. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” The words had no sooner left her mouth than she spotted a dark, yawning opening a few feet to her right. A cave.

  Jennie clambered across the rocks and crawled inside. It was larger than she’d expected. She brushed off the snow and removed her backpack. The wind moaned as it tore across the cave’s narrow mouth. Reaching into her pack, she removed the flashlight she’d taken from the plane. She turned it on and shone it against the walls as she turned in a slow circle. The cave was good sized—about ten feet wide and fifteen feet deep. A stack of firewood leaned against one wall. Someone had built a fire in the center. Jennie couldn’t tell how long ago it had been.

  “All the comforts of home,” she murmured. “Oh, Gram. I wish you were here with me. I shouldn’t have left you.” Facing the opening, she dropped to her knees. Hot tears trickled down her icy cheeks. “I should have stayed with the plane.” She tried to imagine Gram safe and warm inside the cockpit. Snow would build up around it, making a snow cave. “She’ll be okay,” Jennie reassured herself again and again. As soon as the storm let up, she’d head back to the wreckage.

  Several times during the next two hours, Jennie tried to set out, but each time the blinding snowstorm and common sense drove her back. By nightfall, she had to accept the inevitable. She wasn’t going anywhere until morning.

  With the dry firewood someone had left and matches from her survival pack, Jennie built a fire. Exhausted, she took off her jacket and bunched it up for a pillow. Removing a silver emergency blanket, she stretched out on the uneven, rocky floor and covered herself with it.

  For a long time Jennie watched the fire and listened to the wind. “Please, God,” she pleaded, “let Gram be okay. Help me get back to her. And please let someone find us.” She tried to imagine her family and how worried they would be. J. B. would be frantic by now. They’d been due in at the airport at four that afternoon. J. B. was to have picked them up and taken them to the cabin. Mom and Dad would already be there. J. B. would contact Dad on his cell phone. They would do whatever it took to find them. She took comfort in those thoughts and closed her eyes.

  She’d almost fallen asleep when she heard a gunshot. Jennie bolted upright. Had she heard right? Her mind raced with possibilities. Who would be shooting out there at night? In a storm? Someone from the religious settlement? Another murder?

  Jennie searched her mind for details of the story she’d seen on television about the two members from the religious group who’d been killed. They’d been shot, their bodies found in the desert. During the interview, a spokesperson for the group had called it a hate crime. He’d insisted that there were “…enemies—outsiders intent on closing us down.” Jennie stoked the fire, trying to remember more.

  The spokesperson had been a handsome man with dark hair and kind eyes. In his forties, maybe, wearing a suit and tie. Nothing out of the ordinary about him. She’d been watching the news with her mom and dad. Mom had commented, “Why can’t they leave those poor people alone? It seems like everyone is a target of prejudice these days. It’s not as if they’re a cult. They’re Christians. They worship the same God we do.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Dad had said.

  Dad’s comment took on an ominous ring now. Had he known something about the deaths of the two men? As a homicide investigator he might, but this was way out of his jurisdiction.

  Jennie wished she’d paid more attention, but the incident had come and gone as the newscasters went on to other stories. A religious order in the high desert hadn’t interested her much at the time.

  Another gunshot jolted Jennie out of her thoughts. This one seemed closer. Fear tied Jennie’s stomach into hard knots. She thought briefly about stepping outside the cave to have a look around, then thought better of it.

  A horse whinnied nearby, spurring Jennie into action. Staying low, she forced her feet to move toward the cave entrance.

  “It’s all right, Sable.” The man sounded breathless and maybe frightened. “Settle down.”

  Were the shots meant for him? Was he from the settlement? Could he be meant as the next victim?

  Maybe he wasn’t a victim at all. Suppose he was the killer, and the sheriff was after him?

  Jennie’s heart hammered in her chest. She peered outside but saw nothing but swirling snow. She heard no sound except the wind. Had she imagined it?

  No way. What if there’s a criminal out there and he spots the cave? What if he’s the one who put the firewood in here? Maybe it’s a hideout.

  Jennie tried to curb her overactive imagination, but it didn’t work. She grabbed a stick from the log pile and backed against the cave wall beside the entrance. If he did come in, she’d be ready.

  Ready for what? Jennie’s common sense seemed to argue. If he is a criminal and has a gun, the stick isn’t going to do much good. She tried not to think about how vulnerable and isolated she was. Instead, she imagined herself bringing her weapon down hard on the head of the intruder, then escaping out of the cave and running back to the plane. Maybe, if she was lucky, the guy would ride away.

  The firewood popped. Jennie jumped. Oh no. Flames flickered higher. Hot coals rose like a fireworks display. Jennie’s already-tight stomach knotted even harder. I should have scattered the fire. The light would shine out of the darkness like a beacon, welcoming the stranger. Too late now. Her breath held as she heard rocks falling. Boots scraped against the ledge. Jennie stifled a scream as a large, dark form ducked inside.

  3

  Jennie plastered herself against the cave wall and raised her club.

  “What the…” He must have sensed her presence as he spun around just as she brought her weapon down. She’d aimed at his head and instead grazed his raised arm. With lightning speed he wrenched the stick away and lunged at her. The stranger froze when he saw her face.

  They stared at each other for a long time before speaking. He seemed as surprised as she. Jennie took a step back. He was young—maybe a year or two older than she—and taller by several inches, making him over six feet. He wore a cowboy hat and an Australian moleskin coat that brushed the ground.

  His questioning gaze searched her face. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.” Dropping the stick, he added, “You surprised me, that’s all.”

  “I … I …” Jennie stammered, trying to find her voice. She relaxed a little and moved toward the fire. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting company. Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

  A wide grin spread across his handsome features. “I was going to ask you the same thing. I’m Eric. And you are?”

  “Jennie.”

  “Well, Jennie, I was on a mail run. I stay here so
metimes. Had hoped to make it back home before dark, but the storm …” He hesitated, eyeing her backpack. “You must have gotten caught in it too. Were you out hiking or something?”

  “No, my—our plane crashed and—”

  “Plane crash?” He frowned. “I was right. I heard it. Tried to find it, but the visibility is terrible. Finally gave up. I thought I’d hole up here tonight and look again tomorrow. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, um … just a few bruises. My grandmother is still out there.” Jennie gazed into the fire. “I should have stayed with her. She’s badly hurt.”

  “You were pretty brave to venture out here alone.”

  “Brave? More like stupid. We saw that religious compound from the air. I thought I was close enough to walk it …”

  “You are. That’s where I’m from. It’s only another five miles.”

  “You’re a member of … of …”

  “A religious order?” He smiled again, banishing Jennie’s remaining fears. “You seem surprised.”

  “I am. The way you’re dressed, I thought you were a rancher.”

  “I am—sort of. We dress pretty much like everybody else. At least I do. I take care of the horses.” Eric hunkered down by the fire.

  “Your horse.” Jennie glanced toward the cave’s mouth. “Will it be all right out there?”

  “Sable?” He nodded, a look of pride on his face. “Sable’s been through worse than this. She could have gotten us home, but I needed to stop.”

  “Won’t they worry about you when you don’t show up?”

  He chuckled softly. “We don’t worry about anything at the Desert Colony. Christ told us not to be anxious. We take that seriously. The Lord will provide all our needs. We must simply trust.”

  “Trust,” Jennie murmured. “Sometimes it’s hard. I know I need to trust God to look after my grandmother, but I’m still worried. Um …” Jennie hesitated. “Do you have a cell phone?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, but even if I did, it wouldn’t to us much good. No reception out here. Try not to worry, Jennie.” He offered her a warm smile.

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “Will your worries and anxieties help her?”

  Jennie smiled. Never in a million years did she imagine she’d be sitting in a cave in the high desert talking about religion with a guy she’d been terrified of only moments before. “No,” she answered. “Of course not. It’s just … I can’t help it.”

  “It takes time and practice to learn such trust.”

  Jennie jumped up and began pacing. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. There’s a storm outside. We don’t even know each other. Gram is … I hate to think what might be happening out there.”

  Eric lifted his gaze to hers and held out his hand. “Put your fears to rest, Jennie.”

  “It’s not that easy.” Oddly, she felt some of her fears drain away as he spoke. She felt drawn to him. Taking his offered hand, she allowed him to guide her back to the fire.

  “Sit beside me.”

  Jennie sat. Something in his tone calmed her. He exuded a kind of peace, a spiritual depth she hadn’t experienced with any of the guys she’d known.

  When she’d settled beside him, he spoke again. “You must realize that even now our Lord is working in our lives.”

  “I suppose. I was able to walk out. Gram is still alive.” Jennie brushed away a newly formed tear. “At least, she was.”

  “Are you a believer, Jennie?”

  “If you mean do I believe in God, yes. I’m a Christian.”

  “And your grandmother?”

  “She is too. Why?”

  “Then you believe that no matter what happens, even if it’s a bad thing, the end result will be good.” His blue gaze caught and held hers. Taking her hand again, he added, “The Lord is already working to save your grandmother.”

  “What do you mean?” Jennie looked back at the fire.

  “You went out in search of help.”

  “And got caught in a storm.”

  “You found refuge.”

  “But Gram …” She turned back to him.

  “We’ll search for her tomorrow.” Eric squeezed her hand in a reassuring gesture.

  Jennie nodded. “You’re right. It’s just that … I love her so much. I can’t bear the thought of her being out there alone.”

  “She’s not alone. If, as you say, she is a believer, then the Lord and His angels are watching over her, just as they are watching over us. They led you to this place and brought me to console and protect you.” Eric stood, then retrieved another piece of wood for the fire.

  “Why don’t you get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

  “Keep watch? Are you afraid of something?”

  “No,” he answered, a little too quickly.

  So Eric didn’t have the trust thing down completely either.

  “I heard gunshots before you came in,” Jennie remembered. “Was someone shooting at you?”

  “No, I … I doubt it.” Concern etched lines in his forehead. “I just don’t want to take any chances.”

  “Why don’t you just trust God?” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

  Eric sighed. “I do trust Him. But I don’t trust humans. And, as you say, trusting isn’t always as easy as we’d like it to be. Two of our members were shot to death last week. We think it may have been one or more of the ranchers.” His jaw clenched. “I think I know who, but Donovan says we shouldn’t judge that we need proof. They don’t like us. Donovan says it’s because they don’t understand our ways. He’s doing all he can to protect us.”

  “Who’s Donovan?”

  “Our leader. You’ll like him. He is the kindest and most spiritual man I have ever met.”

  Danger signals darted through Jennie’s mind, but she wasn’t certain why. “Are you sure those gunshots weren’t aimed at you?”

  “The shots were too far away.” Eric started toward the mouth of the cave. “I’m going to check on Sable. You should get some sleep.”

  Jennie didn’t feel like sleeping but opted not to argue. She snuggled back under her silver blanket, staring into the fire. Though she wondered about the Desert Colony and worried about Gram, she felt a strange sense of calm. Eric was right. She could trust God to take care of Gram—and her.

  The next morning, Jennie climbed up on Sable’s back behind Eric. “I still think we should go back to the plane, I have the GPS. We wouldn’t have any trouble finding it.”

  “We’d be wasting time.” Eric sounded less than spiritual this morning. They’d been arguing for ten minutes. Exasperated, he nudged Sable forward. “If we found her, we’d still have to go back to the compound to get something to transport her on. We have a doctor there. He’ll go out with the men. They’ll be much better equipped to take care of her than we are.”

  “She’s been out there too long already.”

  “My point exactly. Trust me on this, okay?”

  Eric’s plan made sense. As Sable picked up her pace, Jennie wrapped her arms around Eric’s waist and leaned her head against his back. Unbidden tears dripped onto his waterproof coat. Please, God, she prayed. Please take care of Gram. Keep her safe … and alive.

  4

  An hour later, Jennie and Eric arrived at the Desert Colony. High white walls surrounded it. Coiled barbed wire sat atop the wall. “It looks like a prison.” Jennie felt relieved when Eric bypassed the worn path to the high iron gate.

  “Looks are deceiving.” Eric still sounded gruff, and Jennie didn’t know if he was still mad at her for arguing with him or just tired from so little sleep.

  When she’d awakened, he was already up and putting out the fire. “Donovan had the wall built to protect us from the outsiders. Not to keep us in. We don’t like it, but it’s
necessary.”

  “Why build a wall? I thought you believed that God would protect you.” Jennie couldn’t resist the jab—especially after all his preaching on not being anxious about Gram. While she did believe in God’s protection, she also believed in doing everything humanly possible.

  Eric didn’t answer, and Jennie decided to drop it. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Stables.”

  At the back of the compound stood a long building of white stucco and a red tiled roof. Beside it was an empty corral. An old-fashioned buckboard with a horse harnessed into it stood just outside the wide doors. The impressive stables reminded her of pictures she’d seen of large estates owned by horse breeders. “How many horses do you have?”

  “Varies. Right now twenty.” At the entrance to the stables, Eric helped Jennie down, then swung out of the saddle. He tied Sable to a hitching post and stroked the horse’s neck. “I’ll be right back, girl.”

  Taking Jennie’s elbow, he propelled her around and steered her back to the front gate. There, Eric dropped her arm and told her to sit on a bench near the entrance and wait for him. “I need to get permission to bring you in,” he explained.

  “Why?” Jennie questioned, but Eric didn’t answer. She started after him, but something held her back. She didn’t like the barbed wire and had a strange feeling that once people entered they might not come out. It wasn’t a rational thought. After all, Eric said the residents could come and go as they pleased. Still, Jennie’s intuition told her things were not as wonderful at the Desert Colony as Eric made them out to be.

  While she waited, Jennie tried to focus on her surroundings. The compound was a work of art. The inner grounds were beautifully kept. A three-foot band of green plants bordered the outside wall. The green stopped abruptly at the desert’s edge. An oasis. Pristine patches of snow softened the contrast between the garden and the desert with its harsh, rocky soil and dry golden grasses. A tumbleweed bounced against the wall. Another gust of wind picked it up and tossed it toward Jennie. With a gloved hand, she batted it away.