Turner thought about the markers and paper he’d purchased. Nature offered an infinite variety of stimulating playthings, all free. He would reserve the art projects for the evenings, when Justin was forced to come inside for the night.
Cassandra and Turner rocked back and forth in their chairs, and Turner heard her sigh of relief. This was probably the first time she’d felt safe in days, if not months. What would it be like to live in constant fear like that? Never knowing when the next blow might land?
He grimaced inwardly. He knew something of what it was like. The constant dread. The eternal tiptoeing around and trying to make yourself invisible. If you weren’t noticed, you couldn’t be a target. So you slunk around, always watching, always waiting. Yes, he could relate to her situation.
But to think that Cassandra Todd, cheerleader, homecoming queen, class beauty had become a victim too! He’d always thought the victims were the ugly ones, the untalented ones, the losers. How could someone like her have turned into someone like he used to be?
He let his gaze wander past Justin, across the front yard and down the trail that led to the lake. The sky had cleared and was a cloudless sapphire, and the lake a jewel of equal beauty, reflecting the tranquility that permeated the surroundings. It was a quaint, pastoral setting—a Hallmark moment worthy of a postcard from heaven. So why did he feel a nagging combination of uncertainty and dread unlike anything he’d felt since high school?
CHAPTER 20
CASSANDRA MADE BREAKFAST the following morning while Turner and Justin went on an adventure down to the lake. They had spent yesterday afternoon settling in, then napping, and had barely had a chance to explore their surroundings. She laughed to herself to think how excited Justin was to have the whole outdoors as his playground. It contrasted with the postage-stamp-size backyard of their Las Vegas home that held only a tiny sandbox and swing set.
A momentary sadness came over her as she thought about her former home and life. But she quickly blocked the memories and focused on the beautiful setting in which she now found herself.
It felt familiar to be in the kitchen, cooking breakfast and setting the table. But for the first time in months she wasn’t worried about how the meal would be received. Turner, she knew, wouldn’t criticize her if the toast was slightly burned or the eggs undercooked. It was enjoyable preparing a meal that would be appreciated.
When things were ready, she went to the door and called, “Hey, you two! Breakfast time!”
Justin rushed into the clearing a moment later, giggling so much he could hardly stay on his feet. Turner appeared right behind him, arms extended, fingers bent like claws, voice roaring deeply.
“The bear’s gonna get me!” Justin laughed, falling down in the soft mat of pine needles. “Save me, Mommy!”
Turner roared again, and Justin scrambled to his feet, rushing toward Cassandra, who held out her arms and cheered him on. Justin reached her at the same time Turner did, and the three of them briefly collided, sharing a group hug as they steadied one another and laughed.
“You’re safe,” Cassandra said. “The bear won’t get you now.”
Turner gave one more growl, and Justin squealed and twisted out of Cassandra’s arms and ran into the bedroom, laughing harder.
“Whew, maybe that will keep him occupied for a few minutes,” Turner said, collapsing in a kitchen chair and eyeing the table setting.
“He has a lot of energy, doesn’t he?”
“That’s for sure.”
She poured three glasses of juice naturally and efficiently, as though they had been coming to the cabin for years. Then she coaxed Justin out of the bedroom, promising not to let the bear get him. Justin peeked around the kitchen doorway and eyed Turner warily, making a wide circle around him as he climbed up to the table.
“Breakfast looks and smells delicious,” Turner said, reaching for a slice of toast.
“Would it be all right if we said grace first?” Cassandra asked. “There’s so much to be thankful for.”
“Sure,” Turner said, withdrawing his hand.
“Dear Lord,” Cassandra began, “we’re thankful for this food. Please bless it to nourish and strengthen us so that we may do Your will. Thank You for your guidance and help, and for wonderful friends like Loretta and Mary and especially Turner. Amen.”
Turner looked at her and their eyes locked momentarily. Then he dropped his gaze and reached for a slice of toast and two strips of bacon.
As they ate, they made small talk. Justin told Cassandra about their walk down to the lake and the pretty dragonflies he’d seen skimming over the water. Turner told how Justin had tried to catch a dragonfly and had nearly ended up in the lake.
“You have to be careful around the water, sweetie,” Cassandra cautioned.
“Don’t worry. We had a little talk on water safety,” Turner explained. He speared a third strip of bacon with his fork and smiled at Cassandra. “You sleep okay last night?”
Cassandra glanced in pretended disapproval at her son. “I did until Mister Buster woke me up. But it gave me a chance to lie there and feel the sunshine streaming through my window. It reminded me of the times as a little girl I’d wake up to its warmth on my face and listen to the birds chirping in the trees. It’s been years since I didn’t jump out of bed and start doing a dozen things at once.”
“I understand. Not having Harvey’s list waiting for me felt great too.”
Cassandra wiped a piece of egg from Justin’s chin. “Thanks for keeping Justin entertained while I got things ready.”
“No problem,” Turner replied, between mouthfuls. “It’s a beautiful day. I thought we could go for a canoe ride on the lake.”
“A canoe ride?”
“Yeah. I found some lifejackets and paddles in the closet.”
She hesitated. “I haven’t been canoeing before. Brad wasn’t into that kind of thing.”
“That’s okay. There’s nothing to it.” He puffed out his chest dramatically. “Besides, you’re looking at a certified canoe instructor.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Really?”
“Four years at Camp Kopawanee.”
“I wouldn’t have taken you for the outdoorsy type.”
“Camp Counselor Turner Caldwell at your service, ma’am.” He gave her a mock salute. “With credentials to prove it.”
She laughed. “In that case I’ll make a picnic lunch.”
“Sounds great. I’ll get the gear and haul it down to the dock.
Want to help me, little man?”
“Sure, Turner,” Justin replied, hopping down from the table.
A short time later Cassandra arrived at the dock with the picnic lunch. She felt a rush of excitement as the lake unfolded itself like a jewel set against a forest-green backdrop. The sound of cars honking had been replaced by the chirping of birds, and the odors of exhaust and industrial emissions had given way to fresh, mountain air. The hustle and bustle of people on their way to work had been supplanted by solitude and tranquility. This was a world she could get used to.
A fiberglass canoe sat on the dock.
“A boat, Mommy!” Justin cried excitedly.
“Canoe, sweetie,” Cassandra said, correcting him.
“Let’s go in the boat, Mommy.”
Turner put the smallest lifejacket on Justin and snapped the buckles in place. As he helped Cassandra into hers, she noticed how efficiently he adjusted the straps and fastened the buckles.
Once the three of them were properly outfitted, Cassandra helped Turner slide the canoe over the edge of the dock. As the craft settled on the water, Justin clapped his hands excitedly.
“So how do we climb in without tipping over?” Cassandra asked.
“I’ll climb in first and steady it while you hand me Justin. Then lay your paddle across the canoe and gently slide from the dock into the bow by grabbing the near side with one hand and placing a foot in the center of the canoe. Crouch low and grab the far side with the other han
d as you put your other foot in the canoe. Get yourself balanced and then sit on the bow seat.”
“You do know about canoeing. When did you first get interested? Did you go camping as a family when you were young?”
“We went once,” Turner laughed.
“Only once?”
“At my insistence, my parents and I went camping when I was eight. That was before they separated for a while. The outing was a disaster. Between the canoe springing a leak, the tent blowing down in a rainstorm, and my dad splitting the toe of his boot with an ax, the adventure was the last we ever undertook in the great outdoors. From that day on our family ‘camping’ trips consisted of Holiday Inns and fast-food restaurants.”
“That’s too bad,” she said, looking at the surrounding vista.
“You missed all this.”
“Not actually. After that outing, my parents enrolled me in the Scouting program, mostly so I’d stop bugging them about going camping and hiking again. I started as a Tenderfoot and worked hard on my merit badges, becoming an Eagle Scout when I was sixteen. I was the youngest boy in my troop to earn it. As a result I got to attend an international Scout jamboree in Alberta, Canada.”
“So you really are a Boy Scout.”
Turner laughed and climbed into the canoe. He took Justin from her and showed him how to hang onto the center yoke. Then Turner put the lunch in the bottom of the canoe, beside the plastic bailing bucket, and steadied the canoe while she climbed in.
“That wasn’t so bad,” she said, as she got settled on the bow seat.
“Ready to shove off, me hearties?” Turner asked.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” she replied.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Justin mimicked.
With a gentle thrust, the canoe moved away from the dock.
“Which side do you want to paddle on?” Turner asked.
“Does it matter?”
“I’ll show you. Start paddling.”
Cassandra dipped her paddle into the water on the right side. She noticed Turner do the same. They paddled in a large circle and came right back to the dock.
“Fast trip,” she said.
“Can we go for another ride, Mommy?” Justin begged.
“Sure,” Turner said, laughing. “Now that we have our sea legs under us, I think we’re ready to face the ocean deep.”
They pushed off once more.
“So which side should I paddle on?” Cassandra asked.
“The right. I’ll take the left.”
“Do we have to paddle in unison, or what?”
“Just paddle evenly, smoothly. I’ll match your pace. And keep your paddle as vertical as you can.”
“Okay.”
“Full speed ahead,” Turner said. “Hang on to your hat, little man.”
Justin felt the top of his head. “I’m not wearing one.”
Cassandra chuckled and dug in with her paddle. The canoe cut a straight line away from the dock. The only sounds were the rhythm of the paddles slicing into the water, lifting, and sending droplets back to their source.
They slowly navigated toward the middle of the lake. The water became a kaleidoscope of refracted rays as the canoe disturbed the glassy surface.
At length they stopped to rest, allowing the canoe to glide to a stop. Utter silence prevailed—a stillness deeper than the lake bottom itself.
Cassandra glanced over the edge of the craft and marveled at how clear the water was. The lake bottom was visible, where trunks of ancient trees lay crisscrossed at various angles like giant Pick-Up Sticks. Jagged rocks thrust toward the surface, but the canoe floated above them with the ease of a bird gliding overhead.
Green slopes, frilly with conifers, ran down to the lake from all directions. On one of the rounded peaks to the south stood an old ranger station, a lookout tower on cross-braced stilts. It appeared to be abandoned but was within walking distance.
She pointed out the ranger station to Turner and commented on what an excellent view it would afford, adding reverently, “Everything is so beautiful. This is nature’s house and the décor is amazing.” She looked around appreciatively until Justin’s attention span expired.
“Let’s go,” the little boy said. “Paddle fast.”
Cassandra twisted around to look at Turner. “Is the motor ready in the back?”
“Ready,” Turner said, thrusting his paddle into the water.
“Faster, faster!” Justin said, sounding like a coxswain coordinating the rhythm.
Cassandra paddled until her arms burned and her fingers cramped. She was definitely out of shape, but she kept it up so as not to disappoint the little coxswain. Turner matched her, stroke for stroke, and the canoe maintained a straight course.
They reached the far side of the lake just as her arms went up in flames. Perspiration stung her eyes and dripped off the end of her chin.
“Let’s cool off,” Turner said, slapping his paddle against the water and sending a cascade toward Justin and her.
Cassandra screamed in protest and replied in kind, and soon the water churned as though they were inside a giant blender. Even Justin got in on the action, laughing in delight as he reached over the side and flipped water in both directions.
As Cassandra attempted to turn around to improve the angle of her attack, the canoe listed. She quickly leaned in the opposite direction, and the canoe began rocking. Turner tried to counterbalance the canoe by leaning in the other direction. But they ended up leaning in the same direction, and the canoe rolled like a log in a lumberjack logrolling competition, pitching them into the lake headfirst.
Cassandra came up sputtering and gasping. “The water’s freezing!”
She and Turner grabbed Justin at the same time and got their arms tangled around one another. Justin bobbed between them, squealing in delight. The lunch, which fortunately Cassandra had put in an airtight plastic bag, floated nearby.
After getting their arms undone, Cassandra pulled Justin to her and wiped his face. Wading ashore, she undid their lifejackets.
Turner grabbed the floating lunch and then beached the canoe. He undid his lifejacket and hurried to join them. They lay on the warm pebbles, enjoying the sunshine.
Glancing across at him, Cassandra noticed how Turner’s wet clothing revealed his physique. Although he lacked Brad’s large, muscular build, he was not the skinny kid he’d been in high school. He had filled out, and his chest and arms were sinewy and cut. And in his expression she saw an inner strength and confidence she had not noticed before. He was obviously in his element.
At this moment she felt completely safe. And as she looked at the surrounding beauty of this mountain setting, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, with anyone else.
“I’m hungry, Mommy,” Justin said, poking her with a finger.
Cassandra smiled and sat up. “Who’s ready for some lunch?”
“Me!” Justin and Turner said at the same time.
Cassandra unpacked the lunch, which consisted of sandwiches, juice boxes, apples, and cookies.
“Food always tastes better in the fresh air,” Turner said, biting into a sandwich. “Nature adds a seasoning all its own.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Cassandra replied, munching a piece of apple.
Justin finished quickly and went to play in the pebbles, completely entertained by his surroundings. Cassandra was grateful there was no need for television, video games, or coloring books.
Later the three of them had a rock-skipping contest. With the right angle and trajectory, the rocks, worn smooth over time, skipped across the water in a merry dance before sinking out of sight. Cassandra’s arms still felt rubbery from the paddling, but she put everything she had into each throw to make an impression. She didn’t want Turner to tell her that she threw like a girl!
Justin’s initial throws chumped into the water, creating a single splash. But when he managed to skip a rock twice, he jumped up and down and cheered.
Turner launched a rock and co
unted, “ . . . five, six, seven.”
“Good throw, Turner,” said Justin. “Watch me.”
The little boy wound up and threw with all his might, almost pitching forward into the lake. Turner caught him in time to watch the rock skip three times. They all cheered.
When that game ended, Turner found a piece of driftwood and tossed it out into the water. They then took turns throwing rocks at it.
Cassandra bounced a pebble off the driftwood on her fourth throw. Raising her arms in celebration, she danced in a circle.
Justin joined in and danced with her. “Come on, Turner,” he said, holding out his hand. “Let’s dance.”
They joined hands and danced in a circle. This led to a new game, and soon they were playing Ring-Around-the-Rosy.
“Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posies; ashes, ashes, we all fall down,” they sang.
They played the game over and over, falling down repeatedly, which caused Justin to laugh hysterically. Cassandra finally came to the rescue by distracting him with a collection of pretty rocks. Soon his pockets were filled, and he began piling more in the canoe.
“I think we’d better get back before the canoe gets too heavy,” she said.
Turner helped them into their lifejackets and then nosed the canoe into the water, steadying it while she and Justin climbed aboard. He joined them and they started their return journey.
Cassandra wondered if Justin would want to go faster, but he was busy examining his rock collection. She and Turner were able to paddle leisurely across the lake, keeping in time with each other and maintaining a straight course.
Once, she turned back and smiled at Turner. “I think we’re a good team.”
“Yes, we are,” he replied softly.
There was a subtext in his comment—a meaning that went beyond his spoken words. And she tried to read between the lines and interpret the meaning. Or was it just that she hoped there was something deeper?
When they finally reached the dock, Turner steadied the canoe while she climbed out. Then he lifted Justin to her and picked up the little boy’s treasures from the bottom of the canoe. Justin busied himself with the rocks while Cassandra extended her hand to Turner.
The Return of Cassandra Todd Page 11
