Strawberry Hill

by Catherine Anderson

  “I can’t wait. You’ve got to tell him soon, Vickie. Now that I know about him, it’ll be hard for me to stay away. It’ll be less of a shock for him if you pave my way.”

  “I’ll tell him. It won’t be easy. He’ll probably get angry and yell at me, just like you.”

  He chuckled. “I raised my voice. I didn’t yell. There’s a difference.” He jostled her with his arm. “You said something I’d like to back up to, that you were scared to tell Brody the truth about his father when he got older. Were you afraid he’d be angry with you?”

  “No, not then. I’m afraid of that possibility now, but not when he was still a kid. What scared me was that he yearned for so many things I couldn’t give him, and I knew you could. Only what if I told him and he went looking for you? Once he turned fifteen, he could drive. Not legally, but teenagers don’t always let a little thing like that stop them. I could have awakened some morning and found my car gone. I didn’t know how you’d react if he knocked on your door. I won’t get into it tonight, but Brody had already endured a lot of hurt in his relationship with Matt. Even though Matt had promised to love Brody like his own child, he couldn’t in the end. He resented him. I couldn’t take a chance that you might reject him, too.”

  Slade got tears in his eyes. “I never would have done that. I swear to you, Vickie, I would have welcomed that boy with open arms and slaughtered the fatted calf.” He tightened his arm around her. “Aw, Vick, what the hell happened to us? We had it all, and we let it slip through our fingers.”

  “April happened,” she whispered.

  Slade agreed. April had happened, all right, but not in the way Vickie believed. He could only pray the woman would show up at the Witch’s Brew the next evening and put his and Vickie’s world back on its axis. He toyed with the idea of telling Vickie about his visit to April’s that day and his belief that the woman had intercepted Vickie’s letters to him. But he held back. Maybe he was wrong, but he thought it might mean more to Vickie if she finally heard the truth straight from April’s lips.

  “I need to get you back to your tent.” His voice sounded like a frog’s, deep and gruff. “Morning will come early, and we’re both going to have a long day tomorrow.”

  Slade clasped her elbow as they made their way out of the forest. She carried her flashlight, but she hadn’t turned it on. Even though Slade knew she had fairly good night vision, hers wasn’t as sharp as his, and he didn’t want her to trip and fall.

  They’d just reached Vickie’s tent when a woman’s scream rent the night air. Since Vickie stood right beside him, Slade knew it had to be his niece, Erin, and it sounded as if she was in the cookshack. Heart pounding, he broke into a run. He heard Vickie fall in behind him. Seconds later, as Slade closed the distance to the large tent, he heard Kennedy yelling.

  “No, don’t shoot! He won’t hurt you! Don’t kill him!”

  Slade burst into the cookshack to see Erin standing on top of the prep table. She was trembling violently, the gun in her hands shaking as badly as she was. Kennedy had hold of the scruff of Four Toes’ neck.

  “He’s Slade’s bear, Erin. He won’t hurt you.”

  As Slade stepped inside the shelter, his heart sank. This was the moment he’d been dreading ever since that day three and a half years ago when he’d rescued Four Toes from starving to death. He hurried over to the prep table and reached out to his niece. “Give me the gun, honey. Kennedy has it right. This is Four Toes. He’s been around people so much that he’s really not a danger to you.”

  Slade heard the footsteps of other men hurrying toward the tent. All the previous summer, he’d worried about the eventual fate of his bear and had tried to keep Four Toes’ existence under wraps. But he’d always known it was only a matter of time before Four Toes showed himself to the wrong person. Now it had happened. Some of the men he heard gathering outside the entrance were bound to be paying guests. They were strangers who would return home and tell everyone they knew about the crazy outfitter with a pet bear. Anyone who knew anything about the wilderness and wildlife knew that it was against the law for wild animals to be kept in captivity or for someone to try to tame a bear. Slade’s secret was definitely out.

  He shoved Erin’s sidearm under the waistband of his jeans and then grasped her by the waist to swing her down from the table just as Vickie stepped into the tent. She hurried over to a shelf and grabbed a bottle of ketchup. Kennedy stepped out of the way as she handed the condiment to Four Toes. The bear rumbled, making Erin jump. Slade slipped an arm around her shoulders. Everyone in the room observed the blond bear as he punctured the squeeze bottle and started sucking out the ketchup. Four Toes was oblivious to the peril of his situation. Slade wasn’t, and knowing what the bear’s fate might be nearly broke his heart.

  Vickie met Slade’s gaze. “Remember what we talked about? I think it’s time to get people in town behind us and become a squeaky wheel.”

  “It won’t work, Vickie. I talked with the state the day I found him. There’s a lot to consider when a bear is transplanted, and it’s a costly endeavor. They don’t make the decision lightly.”

  Erin looked up at Slade, her blue eyes aching with sadness. “Oh, Uncle Slade, what have you done?”

  “His mama was killed in a rockslide. He was just tiny. He got scared and ran.” Slade turned his gaze on the bear. “At least that’s how I think it went down. He stepped in a coyote trap, the old-fashioned kind with teeth. It cut his foot up, and he lost a toe. I should have shot him. I knew there was no way he could survive on his own, but I got him out of the trap and doctored his foot, instead. I tried to leave him up on the mountain. I figured that at least would give him a fighting chance. But he followed me back to the ranch. I couldn’t just ignore him and let him die of starvation. So I fed him. And as a result, I’ve created a problem bear. I’m sorry he gave you such a fright.”

  “What happens now?” Erin asked.

  “I guess I’ll have to call the state.”

  “But, Uncle Slade, rescuing him was against the law. Feeding him anything is against the law. You’re likely to get in big trouble.”

  “I knew that when I did it, and I know that now.”

  Slade stepped outside. Three of his five guests stood with all of his hired hands, including Wyatt, who couldn’t possibly have heard the commotion. Slade had noticed over time, though, that his foreman sometimes had an uncanny knack of sensing when something wasn’t right, even though he couldn’t hear the audible warnings as everyone else could.

  For the benefit of his guests, Slade said, “As you all saw, we’ve got a blond black bear in the cookshack. If you’ve never seen a blondie, try to get a good look at him tomorrow and treasure the memory. Chances are you’ll never see one again.”

  “What’s gonna happen now, boss?” Rex asked. “He’s never hurt anybody, and maybe he never will.”

  “I don’t know exactly how the state destroys problem bears, whether they’re shot or tranquilized for a euthanasia procedure. I do know that many of the people who work at ODFW are often individuals who became game biologists because they love the wild animals as much as we do. They work their butts off, studying the animals and doing research. Their aim in life is to protect our wildlife. They must also work within the framework of our laws, so sometimes they seem like heartless bureaucrats to us, because we don’t understand what they’re up against.”

  “If they destroy Four Toes, they are heartless bureaucrats!” Kennedy cried. “And we’re stupid for allowing laws to be passed that leave bears like Four Toes hanging out to dry!”

  Slade could almost feel the young man’s pain and sense of injustice, but Kennedy wasn’t a kid anymore. Slade didn’t want him to go off half-cocked and do something harebrained. “It’s a hard, cruel world sometimes, Kennedy, and life is rarely fair. You have to trust that the state employees who decide Four Toes’ fate will make the very best choice fo
r him that they can. And I will remind you that you are the public they must protect. I’m the public they must protect. So is your brother. So are your parents. So is everyone in Mystic Creek and in this camp. How will you feel if a bear like Four Toes isn’t properly dealt with, and it happens upon your mother when she’s out working in her garden and it kills her? I can almost guarantee that you would be asking why that bear wasn’t destroyed, why it was allowed to remain in the forest near your family’s ranch. And the answer would be that someone didn’t do his job.”

  Slade scanned the small sea of faces in front of him. “I’m sorry everyone’s sleep was interrupted. We’ll be heading out early in the morning, so if you want to be well rested, you should consider returning to your tents.”

  With that, Slade cut through the cluster of men and walked to his own shelter.

  * * *

  • • •

  Vickie waited for Four Toes to finish his ketchup, and she tried to keep her attention fixed on the bear, but she was concerned about Erin, who still stood where Slade had left her. She had a stunned expression on her face, and she looked alarmingly pale. Vickie wasn’t sure if the young woman had gotten such a fright that she was in a mild state of shock or if something else was troubling her. She was trying to think of a way she might ask when Erin suddenly swung away and plunged out the doorway of the shelter.

  Vickie remained with Four Toes until he drained the ketchup bottle and tossed it on the wood floor. As always, he belched and licked his chops, his expression one of complete satisfaction. Vickie had put extra bottles of ketchup on her list of needed supplies, just so she could offer Four Toes treats. He’d gotten into the habit of enjoying his ketchup once a day, usually in the evening. Heart heavy, Vickie bent to pick up the condiment container and tossed it in the trash.

  “Nothing can happen to you until Monday,” she told the bear. “Maybe not even then. It’s more likely that the state won’t get around to dealing with you for the better part of a week, if not longer. We’ve got some time, Four Toes, and I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to get you moved to another area where you can do without your ketchup fixes and just be a normal bear.”

  But for right now she had a more immediate concern. She shooed Four Toes out of her cookshack, tied down the door flap, and went in search of Erin’s tent. She hadn’t paid attention earlier to see where Wyatt had chosen to put Erin up. Using her flashlight, she spotlighted the ground, finally saw the imprint of smaller boots, and followed them to a tent three spaces from the end on the left side of the shelter alley.

  “Erin?” she called softly. “It’s Vickie. Can I come in?”

  A lantern still glowed inside the canvas structure, but Erin gave no response. Vickie drew back the flap, saw Erin huddled on her cot, and was glad that she’d come. The younger woman didn’t appear to be aware of Vickie entering her quarters. Something was wrong, really wrong. Vickie turned off her flashlight and set it by the doorway. Then she went to sit on the edge of Erin’s cot.

  “You need to talk about it?” she asked.

  No answer. So Vickie decided to stoke up the fire while she gave the deputy a chance to collect herself. As she hauled in wood and crouched down to shove pieces into the belly of the little stove, she started talking.

  “I know Four Toes scared the daylights out of you when he entered the cookshack. The first time I saw him, he came into my tent, and I tried to shoot him. I screamed, too, and trust me, I’m not given to screaming over any little thing.”

  Vickie bent to blow on the bed of embers to catch the kindling. Then she sat back on her heels to leave the door open until the fire was going strong.

  “You’re very pale, Erin. I’m worried that you may be in shock. That’s normal. You won’t die of it or anything.” She chuckled. “Well, it’s not likely at your age to get scared to death, anyway. At my age, maybe.” She sighed and rubbed her hands together. The enclosure was chilly. It would take a few minutes for the space to grow warmer. She saw Erin’s jacket lying across a small satchel and went to get it. As gently as she could, she draped the outerwear over the younger woman’s shoulders. “There you go. It’s cold in here.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Erin suddenly said, fixing Vickie with an imploring gaze. “Is this how it ends, Vickie?”

  “Is this how what ends, sweetheart?”

  “My career in law enforcement. Is this how it’s going to end?”

  Vickie wasn’t sure she was following Erin’s train of thought. She resumed her perch on the edge of the cot.

  Erin looked directly into Vickie’s eyes. “When I go back to town tomorrow, I have to turn Uncle Slade in for breaking the law. It doesn’t matter why. It doesn’t matter if it’s right for him to be fined and have to serve time in jail. Some judge will decide what happens next.”

  Vickie’s heart squeezed. It seemed to be a night for young people to run face-first into the brick wall of reality. First it had been Kennedy; now Erin. “Oh, sweetie.” Vickie couldn’t think what to say. “You’re in an awful pickle, aren’t you?”

  Erin drew her knees to her chest and clenched her arms over her shins. An almost frantic look entered her lovely eyes. “I can’t do it, Vickie. During law enforcement training, they teach you that you must be prepared to arrest your own mother if she breaks the law. We’re not supposed to treat loved ones any different than we would a stranger. I thought”—she broke off and swallowed—“I felt pretty confident that nobody I loved would ever break the law.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “And Uncle Slade? He’s a law-abiding citizen and an honest man. I know you believe he lied to you about screwing that girl way back when, and I can understand how your faith in him got shaken. But I don’t think he lied to you. I just can’t picture it.”

  Vickie wished Slade hadn’t been factored into this conversation. She liked Erin, and she felt awful for her. The young woman had been pushed into a career she wasn’t cut out for, and now she was being forced to make a choice between her job and being loyal to her uncle. Vickie wanted to be her sounding board. If possible, she might offer some worthwhile advice. But she couldn’t discuss Slade’s transgression with April Pierce, especially not with Erin.

  “I believe your uncle is a wonderful man.”

  That was true, as far as it went. Vickie really did think Slade was a good guy. He just wasn’t good husband material, because he couldn’t keep his jeans zipped up, and after he committed a transgression, he tried to lie his way out of trouble. Maybe there wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t do the same. Vickie didn’t know. The only certainty in her mind was that she’d struck out twice, and she was done.

  Still deathly pale, Erin said, “I have to surrender my badge, Vickie. I can’t turn my uncle in. I think I’m supposed to arrest him, actually. I never really expected to work on federal land, and I haven’t retained all the information I studied about that. I may be required to make an arrest if I see a crime being committed here.”

  Vickie scratched at a dried blob of cookie dough on her jeans. Her mind swam with things she might say to Erin, but she wasn’t sure any of them would be a comfort or provide her with solutions to the underlying issue, which was her unhappiness in her current profession.

  “I don’t really know about any of that,” Vickie finally said. “But I think if you talk to your uncle, he will tell you to do your job, Erin. I’m sure he’s very proud of you. He understands that you’ve sworn to uphold the law. The whole mess with Four Toes is just that, a mess that happened. Slade didn’t go looking for trouble that day, and Four Toes sure as heck didn’t. Life often has a domino effect. There’s no way to change that.”

  Erin stared at something behind Vickie on the wall of her tent. After a long silence, she said, “It’s not only about Four Toes and Uncle Slade, though. It’s about me, Vickie. When push comes to shove, will I be able to arrest someone I care about? When I was an idealistic rookie, I b
elieved I could. But tonight what I thought would never happen did happen.”

  Vickie could see Erin’s dilemma. Sadly, she had no pearls of wisdom to offer her. “I’m sorry it’s come down to this for you, honey. Maybe it’s God’s way of tapping you on the shoulder.”

  “To tell me what?”

  “That maybe—just maybe, mind you—you’d be happier helping a child to overcome a lisp or a stuttering problem. Speech therapy, the profession of your heart.”

  “I’d have to go back to school! It’s too late for that.”

  Vickie pushed to her feet. “Nonsense. You’re thirty?”

  “Thirty-one.”

  The tone in Erin’s voice almost made Vickie laugh. “As old as all that? I still call nonsense. I went to culinary school in my forties. I met people there who were getting their degrees in their fifties and sixties.”

  “I have bills to pay. Rent, utilities, a car payment.”

  Vickie bent over to hug her. “Move in with your uncle. He’s got plenty of room in that big old ranch house. The two of you could wander around in there for a day and never bump into each other, and he’d probably love to have you. That would get rid of everything but your car payment and insurance. You could commute to Crystal Falls or Bend for your coursework. I don’t know if either college offers degrees in speech therapy, but if not, maybe there’s something they do offer that you’d find rewarding.”

  Erin nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good,” Vickie said. “That’ll take your mind off the more immediate question, whether or not you should turn in your badge. For now, just try to get some sleep. Everything will look better in the morning. It always does to me.”

  * * *

  • • •

  The following day began well before daylight, and Vickie felt as if she’d gotten no sleep. It was Sunday, the traditional day of rest for most people, but she was up at three in the morning and making drop biscuits by half past the hour. On the stove, she had a huge mound of diced potatoes and six pounds of bacon frying in two overlarge skillets. She had sixteen mouths to feed, plus her own. She hadn’t fed the guests a breakfast yet, and she wasn’t sure how much bacon they might devour. Cooking for a group was often a guessing game, and she might miss the mark this morning. Bacon was always a favorite, but her yield would theoretically give each person over a third of a pound. Not everyone would want that much, leftovers were a waste, and she had to take her chances.