Winter's Secret

by Lyn Cote

  She had first awakened in this frozen, depressed, immovable state the day after Elroy had been arrested and Uncle Dutch had been implicated. She closed her eyes, still wrestling with anguish. What were they all saying now at the Black Bear Cafe every morning about the latest Rieker sin?

  Footsteps approached outside. The door opened. Wendy looked up. "Sage. What's wrong? Did school close early?"

  Sage let her heavy backpack bump onto the floor and walked to her sister. "Nothing's wrong—with me. Why are you sitting here? You're supposed to be at the clinic."

  "I just don't feel good." Go back to school, Sage. Leave me alone.

  Sage tried to put her hand on Wendy's forehead.

  Wendy ducked away. "I don't have a fever."

  Sage sank onto the end of the sofa. "I know that. Old Doc called the school and talked to me. He's worried about you. This is the third day you've called in sick. And you haven't taken a sick day in two years."

  Wendy folded her legs under her and turned from her sister. "I can't help it if I don't feel good."

  "I think it's time we had a talk. A talk I've been thinking for a long time we should have."

  "What talk?" I'll say anything, Sage, if you'll just go away and leave me alone.

  "The talk about Mom, you, me. Uncle Dutch—everything about our lives."

  Wendy inched toward the edge of the couch. "Couldn't we do this another day? I just—"

  Sage touched Wendy's arm, stopping her retreat. "We're going to do it today and now. I'm not going to let you go into a full-scale depression. This has to stop."

  Sage, I can't talk now. "I'll be fine tomor—"

  Sage intercepted her, gripping her shoulders. "You won't be fine if we don't face this. So we're going to talk this out. I know I'm just your kid sister, and you don't think I've got it all together. Well, guess what? You don't have it all together, either."

  Wendy's eyes filled up and she bit her lower lip. I don't want to start crying again, Lord. Make Sage stop.

  "Don't get me wrong." Sage let go of her sister's shoulders. "You have most of it together really well, but this idea about going through life avoiding men—and Rodd Durand in particular—has got to stop."

  Wendy pulled together her remaining scraps of self-control and pride. "Please, Sage ...besides, you're mad at him for questioning Trav."

  "I was, but Trav and I talked it over and decided to forgive him. Rodd's been under a lot of pressure and he apologized to Trav. And Trav didn't lose his job like he thought he would."

  Wendy pressed one hand on each side of her head. So many words ...

  "Wendy, I know why you decided not to date when you were in high school."

  "You what?" Her eyes wide, Wendy sat back, stunned.

  "Yes, I asked Mom about it."

  "You asked Mom about it?" She stared at Sage. "But you were just a little girl when I was in high school."

  Sage gave her an impish grin. "Not so little that I didn't realize that high school girls dated boys."

  Shock rippled through Wendy. "What did Mom say?"

  "She said that she had loved not wisely, but too well. My words— or Shakespeare's really—not hers. Anyway, she told me all about her and your dad, about how she loved him and he loved her even though she was a Rieker. About how he died and she wanted to die too. Then she told me all about her and my dad. And how guilty she felt for everything she'd put you through with her drinking and her affairs."

  Wendy could think of nothing to say.

  "We owe a lot to Gramps, don't we? He's the one who made Mom go to AA. She knew she couldn't fight him or he'd call Social Services and she would have lost us for sure."

  Wendy sighed. "He took us home with him and said he wouldn't let her have us back until she gave up drinking." Recalling those wretched days pulled Wendy deeper into sadness.

  "Was it really that bad?"

  Wendy nodded, staring at her hands; after the last few days, all her nails were torn and ragged. "She lost her job at the cafe. She just hung out at Flanagan's all day and all night. Grandfather came over and found me home from school trying to take care of you by myself. But I'd run out of formula...." She didn't want to tell Sage everything. Mercifully, her sister had been just a baby and couldn't remember. Wendy choked back a sob, trying to mask it with a fake cough.

  "I'm glad God provided Gramps for us then." Sage's tone turned brisk again. "But you've never talked with Mom about it, have you?"

  Wendy shook her head. Dredge up that pain again, no.

  "You and I are wired differently, Wendy. Things that bounce off me cut you to the quick. You realize that, don't you? That's why you always worry about my reputation and I don't. That's why I decided to go out with Trav when everyone said I shouldn't even talk to him. You see?"

  Wendy closed her eyes. How does that help me now. Sage?

  "Trav's grandmother had changed a lot by the time she was left to raise Trav. She kept Elroy away from him because she knew then he was no good. I'm sorry. Sis. This isn't about me." Sage took Wendy's cold hand and squeezed it in her warm one. "This is about you. This latest flap about Uncle Dutch and Trav's Uncle Elroy has brought it all back, hasn't it?"

  Wendy felt sick. Elroy had been arrested for the snowmobile burglaries. She'd read all about it in the paper. He implicated Dutch as the one who'd planned the burglaries, including the kegger ruse. He said Dutch had approached him with a foolproof way to get some easy cash for Christmas.

  When Elroy had objected to the partnership in light of the long-standing feud between them, Dutch had pointed out that no one would suspect enemies like them working together. So even if Uncle Dutch hadn't done the thieving, he might be guilty of planning the burglaries and even arson, then seeking revenge by double-crossing his accomplice. Even worse.

  Right now, it was Elroy's word against Dutch's, but in her heart, she suspected it to be true. Uncle Dutch had always wanted to pay Elroy back for forcing himself on Doreen years ago when she d been a young widow. And Elroy didn't have the brainpower to plan the kegger and pull everything off. But true or not, Wendy couldn't face anyone. Once again, her family's reputation had been marred and held up for public scrutiny.

  With a gentle hand. Sage brushed back Wendy's uncombed hair. "All right. Let's get to the heart of this The wild life Mom lived after your dad died hurt you a lot. She was young and heartbroken and angry. What she didn't realize then was how she was hurting you. And at the same time, your grandmother and Veda scarred you too. Then Mom got pregnant with me when she wasn't married, and my dad ducked out, never to be seen again. That gave people, especially Veda, another scandal to throw up to you."

  "I really don't want to think about all of that." Wendy put her head into her hand.

  Sage ignored her. "Now it's Uncle Dutch. Wendy, we don't come from a perfect family, but that's because they're human. But Mom spent years in AA. Then last year she married Jim, and now she seems happy.

  "And Trav—who, by the way, isn't thrilled with his uncle either—Trav and I are going to walk the straight and narrow. We're not going to live together. We're going to get married and help each other get an education." Sage paused. "Wendy, you can't let what has happened in the past keep you from having your happy ending. Trav and I aren't. You have an excellent reputation in this town, and it's obvious to everyone that Rodd Durand loves you—"

  "No, no ..." Wendy put her hands over her eyes. It doesn't matter if he loves me and I love him. Don't you see? I can't face him—not after this.

  Sage tugged Wendy's hands down from her face. "Now you're going to go into the shower. Then you're going to get dressed and head to work to do that blood pressure clinic scheduled for indigent patients this afternoon. Trav's grandmother has been counting off the days to it on her calendar."

  "I can't—"

  "You can. Wendy, you're holding on to the past and it's not even your past. Listen to me—God only holds us accountable for what we do, not for the sins of our fathers or mothers. And besides, God wo
uld forgive Mom if she'd repent I haven't had a chance to tell you, but Mom and Jim found a church to take me to when I was there, and they liked it. They've been going every Sunday since Christmas—sorry, I got carried away again. God doesn't visit the guilt of the mother onto the daughter and you know that, Wendy. So if you hold on to guilt that isn't even yours, you're calling God a liar."

  "No, I—"

  "If he has erased our sins, why are you holding on to them? Is that what you want to do—deny God's power to forgive and blot out sins?"

  Stunned by this truth, Wendy stared at her baby sister. She hadn't thought of this feeling of shame as showing a lack of trust on her part. But her sister was right. She couldn't let the past control her, not when God had wiped her slate clean. If she let this destroy her future, then Veda would win. Wendy swallowed tears of relief. "You're very wise, Sage."

  Sage threw her arms around Wendy and hugged her close. "And you have the sweetest, most loving heart in all the world. Now get into that shower. I'm not going hack to school until you are at the clinic."

  Wendy stood up and walked toward the bathroom. Sage's words played over in her mind. They made perfect sense, but Wendy still wanted to crawl back in bed. She was still afraid to face Rodd. Did he take the same view of this? He was the county sheriff. They'd both begun to have deep feelings for one another, but would those feelings last in the face of her uncle's law-breaking and treachery?

  Snow was falling again. Barely aware of it, Rodd drove down Highway 27, sick at heart. He hadn't felt this miserable since he'd lost Uncle George. And I should he as happy as a clam. The burglaries have been solved. Elroy Dietz was in the county jail. A search warrant for Elroy's home had turned up "souvenirs" from each of the burglaries—nothing valuable, just little things the victims probably never even noticed were missing. He'd hidden them in a box under his bed, which seemed to sum up Elroy's IQ as a thief.

  Dutch Rieker had obviously been the brains of the larcenous duo. Elroy had told Rodd how Dutch made him practice how to do the burglaries, how not to leave any evidence, and how to take only cash so nothing could be traced back to either of them. This collusion must have been why Rodd couldn't square some aspects of the crimes with others— he'd wondered why such a careless thief who trashed crime scenes without any respect for valuable items reconciled with a thief capable of planning the kegger ruse and later the explosions to mask stealing the bingo winnings. Elroy as puppet and Dutch as puppet master explained everything.

  Dutch Rieker was still under investigation. In the latest Steadfast Times, Cram had headlined the end of the case with "Snowmobile Burglar in Custody." At the Black Bear Cafe at breakfast this morning, everyone had congratulated Rodd. So why don't I feel like I good?

  He knew the answer. Wendy's pretty face surrounded by her tousled golden brown hair popped into his mind again. He gripped the steering wheel, pushing down his pain.

  The snow fell faster. Rodd switched on the AM station and listened for the weather report. The words "sleet, stagnating front, slick conditions" rolled over him. On routine patrol, he drove down road after lonely road. As the surfaces grew slicker and the sun rose on the horizon, Rodd kept driving, barely conscious of anything but the road and the sky. Wendy's face hung in his mind. He'd called her every day the past week, and every day she wouldn't answer her phone. God, what can I do?

  The large older blue sedan in front of him suddenly skidded, its rear end swerving to the right. Shocked, Rodd braked. His Jeep slipped in spite of its antilock brakes. The sedan fishtailed. Spinning off the road, it slammed into an ancient pine. Rodd's Jeep rocked to a stop. After radioing dispatch, he jumped out and ran to the car. The driver and the front-seat passenger were slumped forward but still breathing. A baby wailed in a car seat in the back.

  Rodd flung open the door beside the baby and quickly unhooked the child's restraint seat. His Jeep was still running and warm. "I'll be right back, folks. This little one will be better off in my car." He jogged to his Jeep and deposited the baby on his backseat, securing it with the seat belt. He closed the door.

  The explosion knocked Rodd to the ground. When he dragged himself to his feet, the sedan was engulfed in flames. "Dear God!" Rodd shouted and ran forward. The heat and flames forced him back. He stood, watching the car burn. Father, I didn't guess. I should have gotten them out. Father, forgive me.

  Late that night, Rodd lifted the baby out of his Jeep one more time. The events of the day—the car accident with two fatalities, meeting with the coroner and calling county Social Services about placing the baby—still ran through his mind like a disjointed amateur video. He knocked on Pastor Bruce's door. Zak opened it. "The baby's here. Mama, the new baby's here."

  Penny hurried forward with open arms.

  Feeling more dead than alive, Rodd let her take the unbelievably light bundle from his arms. "She's asleep."

  Zak bounced up and down. "Let me see."

  Penny bent down and opened the pink blanket. "Oh, she's darling."

  Rodd winced, pain deep inside. She's a darling orphan, thanks to me. Dear God. Dear God.

  Zak frowned. "She's awful little."

  "How old did Old Doc think she is?" Penny asked.

  "Two or three months." Rodd's shoulders ached from the burdens of the day. I feel ninety years old.

  Bruce walked up and rested a hand on Rodd's shoulder. "Rodd, you look like you've had a rough day. Come on in the kitchen. Penny saved you some supper."

  The other man's obvious concern made Rodd feel guiltier. "I'm not—"

  "You're not leaving," Penny scolded, "until you've eaten and we've talked. It sounds like you had a hellish day. Zak, say good night to the sheriff. It's your bedtime. Daddy will tuck you in for the night. I have to get the sheriff his supper."

  Zak looked like he wanted to argue, but his father swung him up into his arms. "We had a deal, Zak. You could stay up to see the new baby and the sheriff if you went to bed without complaining. You're not going to break your promise, are you?"

  "No," Zak admitted with deep regret. The little guy called over his father's shoulder, "Good night, Sheriff. 'Member you promised to take me out to see Mr. Carey and your cows on your day off tomorrow."

  Rodd waved and followed Penny into the kitchen. He tried to think of something to say. Finally he came up with, "Where are the foster brother and sister? In bed?"

  "Their grandmother picked them up this morning. That's why Social Services had you bring this little one to me." Cradling the sleeping infant with one arm, Penny took a wrapped dish from the refrigerator, put it in the microwave, and turned it on. The aroma of roast beef soon filled the kitchen. "The father and mother agreed to let the grandmother take them until they have settled their differences over the divorce. So you see, we had room for this little one."

  Rodd sat silent while Penny poured him fresh coffee and laid his place setting. Her kitchen was filled with peace. He tried to let it work on him. The edge left his emotions, but deep fatigue, almost shock, remained. When she set his warmed plate in front of him, he bowed his head and said the childhood grace his uncle had taught him long ago. He was prayed out today, asking pardon for his dreadful mistake.

  Bruce came in and sat down across from him. "I'll let you two talk while I get this little one settled in the nursery." Penny walked out, cooing to the baby girl.

  "We heard all about the explosion," Bruce said. "I know you're feeling guilty because you weren't able to save the mom and dad."

  Losing the trace of appetite he'd had, Rodd stared at Bruce. "If I'd thought they were in immediate danger, I would have tried to get them out—"

  "And then all three would have died and probably you too. Rodd, you're not God. You did exactly what you were supposed to do, and you saved a baby's life. I call that a pretty good day's work. We can't have you going under. Too much has happened in this town this winter. The burglaries. Veda's larceny. Everyone's worried about Wendy."

  Rodd's head jerked up. "Why? What happened to
her?"

  Bruce gave him a pained look and explained. "She's missed two, almost three, days of work at the clinic. Said she was sick, but she just couldn't leave her trailer. Old Doc was afraid she'd slip into a depression."

  Rodd paused to get his voice under control. Wendy didn't deserve to be upset like this. "Did she come out of it?"

  "She's back at work." Bruce nodded. "But this thing with her uncle has taken its toll on her. Poor kid. She's had so much to deal with in her life. She's come through it all and turned out to be one of the sweetest people I know. Do you think Dutch did what Elroy has accused him of?"

  Worry for Wendy made Rodd a little sick, but he focused on the question about the investigation. "I can't comment—"