Engaging Carol

by Pepper Espinoza

  Daniel rolled his eyes. “You’re quite the spoiled little princess, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not spoiled.”

  “Whatever you say. Hey, where are you going? That isn’t the way you want.”

  “I want to sit down,” Carol said, moving further away from the path.

  “What are you looking for? A chair?” Daniel asked, chasing after her. The last thing he needed to do was lose her somewhere on the mountainside. He thought she was probably a smart girl, but wouldn’t have the first idea of what to do if she actually got lost.

  “This’ll do,” Carol announced, settling on a stump. She looked at the sky through the tree limbs with a bright smile. “Aren’t the stars beautiful?”

  Daniel approached cautiously, confused by her sudden shifts in mood. “Yes,” he agreed slowly. “They are something.”

  “Come sit by me.”

  He settled on the edge of the stump, making it a point not to touch her. He thought she might be crazy, but that didn’t mean he didn’t long to be near her. If he touched her once, he suspected he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  “How old are you, Daniel?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Really? You look older.”

  “Yeah. My birthday’s coming up.”

  “I’m seventeen.”

  It was Daniel’s turn to be surprised. “Are you serious?”

  “Why would I lie about that?”

  He shrugged. “It’s just…I mean, I figured you were like fourteen or something.”

  “Fourteen!”

  “Well, it’s because you’re so small,” he said defensively.

  “Small? I am not small. I’m just the right size for my age, thank you very much.”

  He held up his hands, smiling, eager to avoid a fight. “Of course, I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  “But my point is, Daniel, I’ve lived in Los Angeles my entire life. All my friends are there. That’s where I went to school. And now everything has changed, so yeah, you know, I might not be the friendliest girl right now. You probably hate me.”

  “I don’t think I could hate you.”

  “I just feel really alone right now.”

  Daniel longed to wrap his arm around her, but he settled for a hesitant pat on her back “You’re not alone.” He bit his lip, trying to think of something comforting to add. “I could show you around town tomorrow, if you like.”

  Carol snorted. “That’ll take all of five minutes, right?”

  “You might be surprised.”

  “I guess it’s better than listening to Dad practice his sermons.”

  Daniel smiled, pushing himself to his feet. “Come on,” he said, finding the courage to offer his arm, “let me take you home.”

  “Are there bears here?” Carol asked, folding her arm in his.

  Daniel looked down, staring at the spot where their skin touched. How could such a small amount of a contact make him warm all over? He thought she would burn him. “Bears? Oh, um, sometimes.”

  “Sometimes? How often is sometimes?”

  He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Are you scared?”

  “Of course not. I’m just curious.” She sounded scared, though.

  Daniel couldn’t blame her. “We see the occasional tracks, but there are few sightings. Most wild animals don’t like to venture to close to the houses. They don’t like the lights or the noise.”

  “So I don’t have to worry about a bear ripping down my front door and tearing me from my bed?” she asked, her voice serious.

  He laughed. “No, I don’t think that’ll happen. Hey, watch your step here.”

  They fell into silence as Daniel guided her up the path, and he liked her again. A patient boy by nature, he wasn’t inclined to nurse a grudge against her or linger on her angry words. Besides, he didn’t know what he would do if he was forced to leave Mountain Grove and start a new life in a completely foreign place with no friends. The least he could do was extend the same kindness he hoped others would show him.

  “How ‘bout I come by tomorrow after breakfast?” he offered as they approached her front door.

  Carol grinned, almost shyly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  “If your dad is still swarmed when I get down there, I’ll be sure to rescue him and send him home, okay?”

  “Thank you.” Carol shook her head. “He’s just too nice sometimes. He’ll let anybody take advantage of him.” She pulled her arm away from his, leaving him cold and stung from the lost contact. “I’m sorry I shouted at you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Carol stretched her legs, standing nearly on the tips of her toes, to brush her lips across his cheek. She turned and hurried into the house before he could respond, leaving him standing alone and shocked.

  She’d kissed him. She had actually kissed him. His skin tingled from the contact, while his face heated. He forced himself to walk, but he couldn’t feel his legs. He moved down the hill in a daze, feeling more than a little heady. He tried to snag the memory of the kiss and hold it close, attempting to relive the mere second over and over. The velvet smoothness of her lips, the heat of her body pressed against his, her soft, tantalizing whisper of breath.

  Daniel had kissed his share of girls—and those girls had been more than willing to return his affections—but nobody had ever affected him in quite this way before. He wanted to race back up the hill, push open the door, gather her in his arms, and kiss her until they were both breathless.

  “This is not good,” he muttered. “Not good at all.”

  He remembered what happened when his brother, Mike, fell in love with a girl from the valley, Christine. Mike had pined for Christine until he was sick, falling all over himself to please that girl. And what did he get for all his troubles? An invitation to her wedding. Daniel remembered finding his brother hiding in the back of the barn, tear stains on his face, a crumpled letter in his hand. Daniel had quietly turned around, for once allowing Mike a bit of privacy, but he had vowed that would never happen to him. Even at the tender age of fifteen, he knew better than getting caught up with some girl.

  But Carol wasn’t just some girl. He couldn’t wait to see her again.

  * * * *

  Mountain Grove, Idaho

  1988

  “What story is your father telling you now?” Carol greeted as she stepped into the church. “It’s probably not true.”

  Daniel and Becky both jumped to their feet. “What are you doing here?” Becky blurted.

  “Why do you look so surprised?” Carol asked as she drifted toward them. She wore a simple white line dress, and soft curls framed her face. “I couldn’t leave you in charge of the flower arrangement.”

  Becky rolled her eyes. “I could have handled it.”

  “Maybe, but why risk it?” She turned her attention to Daniel. “Don’t you look handsome?”

  “You’ve never seen me in my tux, have you?” He held out his arms.

  “I thought we decided this would be informal. You know I didn’t buy a big, white frou-frou wedding dress.”

  “This tuxedo cost me three-hundred dollars when I bought it forty years ago, and I haven’t used it yet,” he reminded her. “I got to get my money’s worth, don’t I?”

  Carol stepped back, eyeing him from the tips of his freshly polished shoes to the top of his new haircut. “You really do look quite remarkable,” she said with just a hint of shock. “At least twenty years younger.”

  Daniel puffed out his chest, beaming from the compliment. “I did what I could. You only get married once, right?”

  Carol’s smile matched his. “Right. Now, what were you two up to? We have too much work to do this morning to sit around and jaw the day away.”

  “Dad was telling me about the night you two met,” Becky explained.

  Carol laughed. “Too bad we can’t have your mother’s atrocious group sing at our wedding, huh?”

  Daniel smiled faintly, pained by the mention of
his mother. She had been fond of Carol while they were both children, but her fondness deteriorated as Carol fluttered from cause to cause, country to country, leaving Daniel and Becky home to fend for themselves. He liked to think his mom would have been pleased to finally attend their wedding, but she died convinced that Daniel would be much happier if he cut Carol from his life for good.

  Becky checked her watch. “The florists should be here any minute.”

  “If they can even find the place,” Carol said. “I gave them very specific directions, but who knows if they were paying attention.” She shook her head. “You just can’t trust people to listen these days.”

  Daniel put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “They’ll be here and everything will be fine, I promise.”

  Carol curled her hand in his. “Why don’t we walk up to the cabin? For old time’s sake.”

  “Do you think we have time?”

  “Of course we do. It’s our wedding day. We’ll make the time.”

  “Then, my lady, allow me,” Daniel said, offering his arm. “Though I don’t know if I can take on that hill again…I’m not the boy I once was.”

  “Becky, if the florists arrive, tell them to wait,” Carol said over her shoulder.

  “But what about the caterers?” Becky called.

  “They’ll wait, too!”

  Daniel eyed the steep hill with trepidation. He knew he used to race up to the top in just over a minute, his strong legs practically flying over the ground. He remembered it vividly, but he didn’t believe it was ever possible. He knees ached now at the thought of pushing his body up the incline.

  “Come on,” Carol encouraged. “You’re not getting old on me, are you?”

  Daniel thought about the senior citizen’s card now residing in his wallet and grimaced. “Getting old? Darling, I’ve been there for years.”

  “This is nothing,” she said, starting up the trail.

  “Says the woman who climbed Kilimanjaro,” he muttered as he followed her.

  “Isn’t the air glorious up here?” she called from several feet away. “So…invigorating!”

  “Yes, invigorating,” he wheezed. “Hold up, I need to catch my breath.”

  Carol hurried back to his side, skipping down the rocky path like a graceful fawn. “You should exercise more. What did the doctor tell you? Three times a week?”

  “I exercise plenty,” he grumbled. “Let’s get moving.”

  “That’s the spirit!”

  Daniel couldn’t help but smile at her spirit. Nobody would guess that she was two years his senior. She always looked younger than her age, but at that moment, she seemed like a young woman again. Maybe the fresh, mountain air really was invigorating. Her high spirit certainly was contagious, and he found he could easily climb the last twenty feet of the hill before they reached the abandoned cabin.

  “It’s bigger than I remember,” she murmured. “It always seemed like such a cage, a prison I couldn’t wait to escape.”

  Daniel nodded.

  “Daddy loved this place, you know. He thought it was home. He couldn’t understand…” Carol bit her lip, looking away.

  “Of course he understood,” Daniel said, pulling her into his arms. “He always understood you.”

  “No, I was like a stranger. He never figured me out. I could see it in his face whenever I visited, or heard it in his voice when I called—he was perplexed. I should have tried harder.”

  “Carol, honey, I spent a lot of time with Bradford, and I promise you, he was never anything less than proud.” He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the intoxicating smell of her, and flowers, and sunshine.

  “You know, I don’t remember the first night we met very well…”

  “No?” He wasn’t surprised. Every minute he spent with Carol had been imprinted on his memory with digital clarity, but he knew that Carol’s mind didn’t work the same way. She kept copious notes and several diaries so she wouldn’t forget anything. Her mind was too active to hold onto any one memory for too long.

  “You know what’s odd, though?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I remember the next morning very, very well.”

  Daniel chuckled. “I wonder why.”

  “I think it’s because it was the first time I wanted to strangle you with my bare hands,” she said with a wry smile.

  “But not the last?”

  Carol smirked. “Hardly.”

  * * * *

  Mountain Grove, Idaho

  1950

  Carol jerked away, sitting straight up in bed, her heart pounding. Bears, her mind screamed. Bears are trying to get in! But of course, that was ridiculous, right? Daniel had said so.

  The sharp sound of a fist against wood echoed through the house. Who could be knocking on their door at that hour? Dawn’s dull gray light filled the bedroom, and a bitter wind whistled around the house. She shivered, pulling the quilt up to her chin. She just wanted to crawl under her blankets, but whoever was outside her door knocked again.

  Tentatively, she pushed the quilt from her legs and stepped out of bed. The first contact with the cold, wooden floor turned her blood to ice. “Shoot,” she muttered, stepping quickly across the floor. “Shoot, shoot, shoot.”

  Carol rummaged through her suitcase until she found her slippers, sighing with relief as she pulled them over her iced toes. Just how cold was it? Dread flooded her. If the floor gave her frostbite in July, what would happen in January?

  “I’m going to die up here,” she said, pulling on her robe. “I’m going to freeze or a bear is going to get me. And won’t Dad be sorry then?”

  The unknown visitor knocked again, prompting Carol to grab a large, heavy book from one of her boxes. Whoever it was, friend or foe, would pay for waking her at six in the morning. It would be a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget, Carol was sure about that. But before she knocked the stranger unconscious, she would try to locate her father.

  Carol found a note on the table instead, scrawled in his hurried, strong hand.

  Carol, I’m going to the Smith’s for breakfast. I’ll be back before you wake up.

  She smiled, her anger temporarily forgotten. She was happy somebody invited him to breakfast—it meant she wouldn’t have to cook. But who ate breakfast at dawn?

  The knock again.

  “I’m coming!” Carol shouted, adjusting her grip on the book. “You better get ready,” she added under her breath.

  Carol paused at the door, considering her options. She could bring the book down on the intruder’s head—satisfying, but given her short stature, probably not possible. Instead, she decided to open the door with one hand, simultaneously throwing the book with the other. Whoever it was wouldn’t even know what hit him, and she’d be free to return to the warmth of her bed.

  Carol’s aim was wild and Daniel’s reflexes sharp, otherwise, the book would have broken his nose. Instead, the corner nicked his ear.

  He dropped to his knees, clutching it, his face pale. “What did you do that for?” he shouted.

  “Well, what are you doing here?”

  Daniel gaped. “What am I doing here? What do you mean? I told you I would come by after breakfast.”

  “Right! After breakfast.” She pointed to the horizon. “Not before the sun comes up. I was asleep.”

  “I’ve been awake for an hour.”

  “There’s clearly something wrong with you,” she said, folding her arms. “I never would have agreed to meet you if I knew you were going to be here so early. And it’s freezing.”

  Daniel took his hand away from his ear, examining the streaks of blood. “Look, do you have a towel or something?”

  “I might. Come on in before I freeze to death.”

  Daniel pushed himself to his feet, but didn’t follow her inside immediately. Instead, he made a detour to the tall weeds where the book had landed. She watched him look for it, suddenly feeling very guilty.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she called. “It’s
fine.”

  “No, I got it.” He straightened, holding up the book in triumph. “That’s quite an arm you got,” he commented when he returned to the door.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you,” she said, taking the book from him.

  “Well, I’m not surprised. You didn’t really look, did you?” Daniel stepped in, covering his ear with his hand again. “Do you want me to build up your fire? It is rather cold in here.”

  Carol shook her head. “No…no, it’s fine. Why don’t you sit over here.” She gestured to the kitchen table. “Let me look at your ear.”

  “But if you’re cold—”

  “You’re bleeding. That’s more important,” she stated, pushing him to the table. “Now sit down.”

  “Do you usually answer the door with a weapon in hand?” he asked, obediently sitting in the chair she indicated.

  “Not usually, no. Let me look at it.”

  The cut looked shallow—no more than a scrape really—but it was seeping blood. Carol bit her lip. Her mother would know what to do, but her mother wasn’t there anymore, was she?

  “A rag will be fine,” Daniel said.

  “But shouldn’t we try to clean it or something?”

  “I’ve had worse injuries. Just a rag.”

  Carol looked around helplessly. Nothing had been unpacked. If they had any rags, she didn’t know where to find them. “I don’t think we have any.”

  Daniel touched his ear again. “I think it’s stopped—”

  Carol ripped the bottom from her nightgown, tearing off a strip about a foot long and three inches wide. He could wrap it around his entire head, if he needed to. “This should do.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he muttered, looking away from her exposed calf.

  Carol quickly readjusted her nightgown and robe, modestly covering her legs again. She didn’t mind that he looked. She liked the way his eyes lit up when they landed on her, like she was a treasure he never expected. Smiling to herself, she folded the strip of material into a square and placed it against his ear.

  “Do you want me to come back later?” he asked, his fingers brushing against hers as he put his hand on the material.

  Carol sucked in her breath, surprised by the casual contact. She knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but he sent sparks up her arm. She studied his hands for the first time, noticing how large and sure they were. They didn’t look like they belonged to a boy—but then, Daniel wasn’t like any boy she ever knew. As she noticed each scar, and the firm calluses along his fingers, she understood that he could do anything with his hands—fix what was broken, heal what was sick, comfort the unwell, the bereaved.