by Molly Wens
Bryce was already tipping the waitress, however, and shoving his chair back to rise. “Yeah, Dad. You can snooze in the car,” he paused as he accepted a small parcel from his server. “I'll give this bone to Skoll when we find a place to bed down. Let's get going."
"You sure are in a hurry,” Donnan complained as he tossed his napkin onto his plate. Shoving back his chair, he muttered, “She must be a hell of a woman."
"She is, Pop,” Bryce supplied with a rare smile, before leading the way back to the car.
The day was fading fast and he wanted to get as far down the road as possible before dark. He stopped at the driver's door of his father's Cadillac, glancing at the man over the roof. “What am I going to do, Pop, if she turns on me?"
The older man, anxious to see his son settled and happy again offered a suggestion. “Work your damned ass off to win her back. Son, if she's half the woman that you described, you'd be a fool to let her go a second time.” He pulled the door open, entering the passenger side and reaching behind him to give the big dog a pat. “Hadn't you better give the big guy a stretch? I'd hate for him to urinate on my leather seats."
"Yeah,” Bryce begrudgingly agreed before grabbing the leash off the seat.
Though Skoll did not look happy about being on a chain, he seemed more than satisfied at being out of the car. After drinking from the water bowl brought for the trip, the dog set out to examine the parking lot and surrounding lawn. Bryce, for all his size and strength, was again amazed at how difficult it was to keep the animal under control as it darted between the parked cars, exploring the terrain.
Donnan followed along, silently amused at Bryce's struggles with the big animal. “Appears to me that dog could use some training,” he suggested.
Bryce offered a sheepish grin. “He's not used to being corralled. He's had free run of the mountainside since he was a pup."
"Which just illustrates my point: what're you going to do with such an animal in a city?"
"I have no idea but I'll bet it'll be fun finding out."
"There may be hope for you yet, my boy,” the elder Matheney said with a smile. “At least this time you didn't insist you'll be heading straight back to the mountains."
Bryce nearly lost his hold on the big dog's leash at the shock of realization. Donnan was right; he was coming to accept the reality that he might not be going back. To his further surprise, the thought did not trouble him much; but the thought of Carissa's possible reaction to seeing him again did.
"She may send me packing back to the mountains, though, Dad."
Donnan Matheney chuckled while shaking his head. “I don't know this woman, and I don't pretend to know what passed between you two up there, Bryce, but I don't think she'll send you away."
"Why's that?” Bryce asked as he struggled to get Skoll back to the car.
"Because,” his father began as he leaned against the car, watching the dog make another bid for sweet freedom. “She loved you enough to let you give her a baby, that's why. I'm not talking about the mistakes made by teenagers here. The two of you are too old for that. I'm talking about a grown woman who gave herself completely to you. There has to be a lot of love in a woman to do that, and that kind of love doesn't die just because you got pig-headed and acted the fool."
"So you think there's hope, eh?” Bryce inquired optimistically.
Donnan grinned at his son, anticipating the moment when he got to see Bryce's eyes light up with joy once more. “Oh, I think she's going to make you pay, make you suffer for it. If she's worth her salt, she'll make you wish you were dead by the time she's done with you, but in the end, I'm sure she'll come around."
Bryce cast his father a dismal glance as the dog finally decided to cooperate, jumping into the back seat and shaking wet snow all over the interior. “Get in the car, Dad,” he groused as he opened the driver's door.
They rode in silence for a time after that, except for the errant chuckles of the elder Matheney, who was obviously enjoying what was happening to his son. The sun was setting, casting pale, hazy yellow and lavender across the snowy, windswept landscape. The wind was picking up speed, the drifts growing in ever-larger waves along the roadside of the uneventful countryside.
"No matter how many times you go through Nebraska, nothing ever changes,” Bryce observed testily. “Everything looks the same."
"Yep. Nebraska is...” Donnan fell speechless as a gust of wind drove another whorl of powdery snow across the highway.
Bryce took his foot off the accelerator as the cloud of snow swirled gently some yards ahead, growing larger, seeming to stall in its spot on the road. The cloud swelled, separating, forming and taking shape. It took on an almost canine appearance, its legs lifting as if to take flight across the plowed asphalt. Then its head turned toward the car, the yellow glow of an animal's eye glinting so briefly that both men wondered if they had actually seen it. Then the cloud dissipated, the snow swirling again, skating off into the vast empty field on the other side.
Skoll gave a decided whine from the back seat as the car slowed almost to a stop. “White wolf,” Bryce whispered to himself.
"What the hell was that?” Donnan demanded, rubbing his eyes. “Boy, I think we better call it a night. I'm seeing things."
Bryce immediately crushed his foot down upon the accelerator, the tires spinning slightly on the thin sheen of frost and ice on the pavement. A sudden desperation came over him, a need to get to her, the woman whose voice called to him in his mind. Something was wrong, she was in trouble and he had to get to her.
"Jesus, Bryce!” Donnan hissed. “Take it easy. You trying to get us killed?"
"We have to hurry, Dad. I have to get there."
"Why? What's the problem?"
How could Bryce explain to his father something that he, himself, did not fully understand? He only knew that he had to get to Carissa, had to help her. He had no way of knowing what the problem was, but he knew she needed him.
"I don't know, Dad. I just know I have to get there."
"This is nuts. Slow down, Bryce, you're topping ninety."
Bryce eased his foot back but kept moving along at a steady speed that his father still considered unsafe for the conditions of the winter highway, but he refused to say another word about it after seeing his son's set jaw and the determined gleam in the younger man's eyes.
After a time, Donnan finally spoke up, “Uh, son, you just passed the last exit to Lincoln."
"I know, Dad."
"I thought we were going to stop there for the night?"
"We're still making pretty good time. I think we can make St. Jo before too late. That way we might be able to miss the next front that's trying to come through."
"If you think so, but I still say we should've stopped. I'm going to close my eyes for a bit. Looking at the road in Nebraska always makes me sleepy."
Bryce smiled, switching on the radio to find an oldies station playing an old Brenda Lee song. “There you go, Dad, something from your generation."
"Watch it, pup,” Donnan said with mock sternness, one eye cocked open.
Bryce answered with a chuckle, feeling good about the camaraderie he had missed in the years of his isolation. It felt good to be behind the wheel again, as well, with the hum of an engine vibrating around him. He was enjoying the trip far more than he cared to admit, all things taken into consideration.
Bryce chuckled at the sounds coming from his father as the miles passed. The man sounded like a buzz saw, so loud were his snores. Skoll whined in irritation on the back seat, his movements becoming more restless until Donnan awoke with a snort.
"We should be getting to St. Jo pretty quick, shouldn't we, Bryce?” the older man asked.
Bryce offered a crooked grin. “We passed St. Jo a few hours back. You snored right through it."
"What time is it? Where are we?” Donnan asked, his voice demanding.
"It's around one in the morning and we'll be coming up on Hannibal soon. I thought we c
ould stop there for the night, if you want,” Bryce answered.
"So much for a leisurely trip across country with my only son...” his father muttered dourly.
"I'm sorry, Pop. I didn't realize that's what you had in mind."
"Would it've made any difference if you had?"
"Probably not,” Bryce returned, his jaw set like granite.
"All I can say is, she better be worth all this fuss."
"She's worth that and more. I can't shake this feeling that something's wrong, that she needs me. I'm worried sick."
"I can see that, son. I'm sure everything's going to be fine. Just stay positive,” Donnan offered with a yawn. “Either get me some coffee or get me to a hotel. I'm beat."
"The exit's coming up. The sign says there's an Econo Lodge up ahead, at Route 61. That sound all right?"
"Works for me. Hope they let the horse in,” Donnan said, indicating the dog behind them.
"I'm more concerned about whether he can hold his water a few more minutes. I should have stopped an hour ago to let him out.” Bryce laughed at his father's concerned expression, the dog whining to let them know he was aware he was being discussed.
After walking the dog, the men quietly smuggled him into their room. Bryce fed the road-weary animal before collapsing on one of the beds, while Donnan took the other. It seemed like they had just closed their eyes when daylight peeked through the hotel room window, bringing them all awake.
Bryce, ever in a hurry, was quick to dress and walk his dog, getting back to the room to discover his father in the shower. While he waited, he switched on the television, absently flipping through the cable-fed channels until an image on the screen made his heart jump.
He quickly adjusted the volume to hear the story on one of the cable news channels. A picture of Carissa, her face a study of anger and humiliation as she desperately tried to evade ravenous reporters and photographers, was displayed in the corner of the screen while the anchor read the story. Shock hit him hard, causing his blood to run cold, as the sober woman's voice spilled from the television speaker.
"...ex-husband, alleging that her disappearance was contrived, while the Claire-Smith Broadcast Executive was secretly meeting with her lover in his mountain retreat. Due to scheduling conflicts, the hearing in family court scheduled for tomorrow, has been postponed until the day after Christmas. This also leaves Ms. James at risk for charges stemming from the deaths of the two men alleged to have abducted her, as well as filing a false report with the Teton County Sheriff in Wyoming. Ms. James was not available for comment.
"In other news..."
Bryce switched off the set as his father exited the bathroom in a cloud of fresh steam. One look at his son's stricken face and Donnan knew something was amiss.
"What is it, Bryce?” the older man asked.
"We're leaving now, Dad. Get your things. Carissa's in trouble.” He explained what he had just seen on the set as he gathered up his belongings and those of his father's.
Donnan shook his head in displeasure as he thought of what the young woman must have been going through. He found Bryce's sense of urgency contagious as he preceded his son and the large dog out the door of the hotel, heading for his car with keys in hand.
"Don't worry, Bryce,” he called over his shoulder as he opened the trunk lid. “We'll get this whole mess straightened out, you'll see. Springfield is only a couple of hours away."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 20
"Where are we?” Donnan asked as he looked up from his road atlas.
"I think this is called Dirksen,” Bryce responded as he surveyed the businesses on either side of the road. “I'm going to stop somewhere and find a phone book. See if I can locate her address."
"First thing we're going to do is find a hotel. You can't go see your lady looking like something the cat dragged in."
Bryce ran the tips of his long fingers down the raspy growth of whiskers that shadowed his face, feeling the rough patch of scar tissue that marred the left side. “I suppose you're right. Skoll could probably use a walk, too."
"Looks like a couple of places ahead. Grab one and let's see if they have anything available.” Donnan closed up the atlas, folding it and stashing it in the glove box.
Neither man had spoken much after leaving Hannibal, both lost in thoughts of what the day would hold once they reached their destination. Bryce, with an expression as hard as flint, could think of little else but the distraught face of Carissa as he had seen her on the television set earlier. He was anxious to find her and he wanted to beat her ex-husband mercilessly for what he was putting her through. More than that, he was cursing himself for sending her home to face the man and his under-handed tricks, alone.
"Looks like a Holiday Inn Express ahead, Dad.” Bryce informed him.
"We'll probably be there for a few days, so I'd rather be someplace with all the extras."
"The place next to it looks like that type,” Bryce said as he pulled into the right lane. “You want me to stop there?"
"Yeah, let's check it out. It's a Crowne Plaza—not too bad, I guess,” Donnan surmised. “It'll do as well as anything else."
"Skoll, old boy,” Donnan said as they settled into the large suite that he had acquired. “I hope you're worth the extra cash I had to fork over to keep you here."
The dog wagged his tail, nudging the hand of the tall, older man as if to beg for a pat. Donnan obliged, smiling at the animal while offering him the sweet treat of a cookie from the courtesy basket on the table.
"You're going to spoil my vicious guard dog, Dad,” Bryce stated bemusedly.
"He's starting to grow on me. He's not a bad dog, Bryce."
"Yeah, he's been good company all this time. Listen, I wish you would let me pay for the room. I feel bad enough dragging you out here."
"Nothing doing. Consider it my Christmas present to you and your future bride. The concierge is going to send someone up to take Skoll out for exercise. While they're gone why don't we see if we can find you a barber and a decent set of clothes? My stuff looks good on me,” the elder Matheney said, flexing his shoulders in a comical pose. “But on you it just looks like old-man rags."
Bryce looked down at the dungarees and soft flannel shirt his father had loaned him for the trip. “I wish I had time. I have to try to find Cari. Besides I don't feel comfortable leaving some hapless stranger alone with Skoll. I'm not sure I trust him not to have the person for lunch."
"Okay, then we leave the dog in the car, but you are going to a barber. You look like a wild savage. Time to clean up your act, boy. You don't want that woman of yours to be scared off the minute she lays eyes on you, do you?"
"Hell, Pop,” Bryce said with a grin. “If my ugly mug didn't scare the shit out of her up there in the woods, I doubt she'd notice if my hair's too long. To be honest, she cut my hair a few weeks back. I think she likes it long."
"Well, I don't. You look like crap. Now get your coat,” Donnan ordered, good-naturedly. “And muzzle that beast. I don't want to get sued because he decided to take a bite out of one of the locals."
Bryce dropped his smile. “Dad, I need to find Carissa first.” He picked up the phone book, flipping to the letter “J", searching for her name.
"You kept her waiting this long, fool. She can wait a couple more hours. Bring the book with you. You can look her up and use my cell phone while I drive.” Donnan headed for the door, signaling that he would listen to no more arguments.
Bryce was given little choice. Snapping the leash back on Skoll's collar and grabbing the hotel room phone book, he followed his father out into the hallway. A quick glance at the clock on the desk told him that it was still early, only 9:22 AM.
Less than half a mile north of their hotel, the two men located a department store where Bryce found a limited selection of items that would fit his large frame. He chose a few simple articles—dark-colored slacks and cotton button-down shirts—to wear during his visit. He als
o purchased shorts, undershirts, socks and a pair of leather shoes. He had wanted to replace his worn parka but failed to find any coats that were large enough to fit the wide span of his shoulders.
Carrying the purchases to the vehicle, Bryce dumped them into the trunk, slamming the lid down firmly. He climbed back into the passenger seat to open the phone book and await his father, who was still in the store. He looked through the extensive listing of people with the name of “James” but found no one named Carissa. He found the name “C.A. James” but that person was listed with a Lincoln address and not Springfield.
Belatedly, he realized just how little he knew about the woman who had so drastically changed his life. He did not even know her middle name. How could he have not learned more about her in all the days they had spent in each other's arms? Because, he answered his own question with self-condemnation, you were too busy rutting like a teenager with raging hormones.
A well-pleased Donnan returned to the Cadillac, a large sack clutched in his grasp. He ducked quickly into the car against the chill of the rising December wind. “Weather changes fast around here,” he stated as he carefully settled the large package between Bryce and himself. “What's up, son? You're looking mighty peevish."
"There's no Carissa James listed,” he muttered in response.
"No ‘C. James’ either?"
"Not in Springfield,” Bryce sighed. He ran a frustrated hand down his face. “What do I do now?"
"Well, hell,” Donnan chuckled good-naturedly. “You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?” At his son's baleful expression, he laughed again and offered, “Don't worry. We'll think of something. This town can't be that big. Seems to me she has a fairly high-profile job. Could be she's at work right now."
"You're right,” Bryce hissed as he grabbed up the phone book once again, flipping impatiently through the pages. “We'll go to that TV station and find her there."
* * * *
"Now just hold your horses. The clerk inside told me where to find a good barber and then you're going back to the room for a shower."
"Dammit, Dad...” Bryce started to yell at his father.
