The opening of a door at the opposite end of the room drew his attention from his phone screen. An older man and woman exited first. Ashley followed right behind them. Ben stood and waited for her to walk to him.
“How was it?”
“Okay.” She shrugged. “I think.”
He couldn’t help it. He put his arm around her shoulders. It pleased him that she didn’t pull away.
“He says he won’t be here much longer. His sentencing will happen soon. But I asked him if he would add you to his visitor’s list.”
“You did?” He drew his head back so he could meet her gaze.
She nodded.
“And?”
“And he agreed. I think he’s scared. He pretends not to be, but he is. Anyway, his attorney said it would help his case if he was willing to work with someone on recovery.”
Ben cleared his throat. “So he knows my name.”
“Yes.”
“Does he also know I was there the night he was arrested? That I’m the same guy.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You’d better give me the name of his attorney. My first visit better be with him.”
Ashley nodded. “Whatever you need. I’ll get the attorney’s information from Mom.”
“Great.” He removed his arm from around her shoulders. “You know I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“Yes, Ben. I know you will.”
He searched her eyes, wondering if she’d meant that to sound the way it did.
“We’d better go,” she said softly. “I don’t want my boss to think I’m shirking my work.”
“No.” He gave her a gentle smile. “That wouldn’t do.”
Neither of them said anything during the drive to the farm. Ben could tell she needed to be left to her own thoughts. It wasn’t until the truck turned into the driveway that she broke the silence.
“Ben, I’m sorry I reacted the way I did when you told me you were in recovery.”
He glanced to his right as he braked to a halt. “I understood why.”
“You only understand some of it. It wasn’t all about Dylan.”
“I’m listening if you want to tell me.”
She released a sigh. “There was a guy I dated awhile back. Paul. I wasn’t in love with him or even serious, but I thought maybe we might get serious in time. He was smart, professional, successful. In fact, there were times I wondered why he chose to date someone like me.”
Ben didn’t wonder why. He could have told her a hundred reasons why any man would want to be with her.
“I never talked about Dylan’s problems with anybody, but eventually I decided he ought to know the truth about my family. The whole truth. So I told him everything.”
Jealousy tweaked Ben’s chest. He knew that didn’t make a lot of sense, but he recognized the feeling.
“It seemed safe to tell him about it. Dylan had been sober for a while. Long enough that I was beginning to have hope for him to stay that way.” Ashley’s gaze turned out the front windshield. “A few months later I came home from work and found Paul and Dylan in my place. They were drunk. The both of them. They’d been partying together.”
“Ashley,” Ben whispered.
She raised a hand to stop him from saying more, but her gaze remained on the land beyond the glass. “Even before I told Paul about Dylan, he knew that I didn’t drink and didn’t like to be around anyone who did. In all that time, I never saw him take a drink of anything alcoholic. Not beer. Not wine. Not anything. And I certainly never smelled anything on his breath or saw his eyes look unfocused. I never saw any signs at all. He fooled me. Me!” Now she looked at Ben. “Paul got drunk with my brother, even after all that I told him about the hurt and the pain. And when I caught them at it, he thought it was funny.”
No wonder she’d reacted the way she had when Ben told her about his past. No wonder she had trust issues.
“I’ve been scared ever since that night. Scared that someone else would fool me. That I would be too blind to see what was staring me right in the face.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
She was silent for what seemed a very long time. “I believe you, Ben. I’m thankful that you want to try to help Dylan. And I’m . . . I’m glad you’re my friend.”
She didn’t say it, but Ben heard the silent But all the same. He was going to have to be patient awhile longer.
Monday, January 29, 1945
A foot of snow lay on the ground, and the temperature on that blustery January day hovered just above freezing. But inside the barn, where the still air smelled of animals and hay, it felt considerably warmer.
Andrew leaned his forearms on the stall railing and watched as Frani brushed the yearling filly she’d named Sunrise in honor of the time of her birth. For this moment, he was able to push aside thoughts of the landing on Luzon in the Philippines. For this moment, he was able to cease wondering if Oscar had been part of that task force.
Frani stepped in front of the filly and pressed forehead to forehead. “You’re so pretty,” she said to the horse, loud enough for her dad to hear too.
And so are you, he thought, feeling as if time had slipped through his fingers. Frani had acquired a girlish figure in recent months, a fact he’d been loath to admit to anyone, least of all himself. His youngest daughter was twelve and a half. How much longer before boys were hanging around, the way Ben’s college friends had come to the farm hoping to catch Louisa’s attention? Not long enough to suit him.
“Hey, Dad.” Frani looked at him.
“Hmm.”
“Do you suppose we could make a riding arena up near the road in the spring? I’d like to work with Jewel more. It’s fun to ride around, but I think I’d like to do more. You know, maybe some trick riding like they do in rodeos.”
“Trick riding?” He straightened away from the stall. He knew his daughter loved horses, but he didn’t like the sound of that.
“It doesn’t have to be dangerous, Dad.”
Good. Because he was sick to death of all things dangerous.
Almost of its own volition, his hand went to the breast pocket of his coat where he’d placed Oscar’s latest letter.
Dear Dad,
One of the guys told me that fathers like to get letters just to them sometimes, so I thought this should be one of those letters. Of course, I know you will show it to Mom, so I want her to know I love her. I don’t know how long it will take this letter to get to you. I’m sending it through a friend who is bound for the States. It won’t be going through any censor that way, which means maybe I can say more than I have in other letters. Not that I plan to say anything I shouldn’t. You know, loose lips sink ships. I know I don’t write often enough. Sorry about that. It’s hard when you’ve got to think about every word you put on paper.
The ship I’m on has fought some tough battles since I came on board. It is scarier than I thought it would be. I’ve seen enemy planes not just drop bombs but fly into ships, almost like it was on purpose. You see those things coming, but there is nothing you can do but keep fighting and keep praying. As to that, I’ve learned a lot about prayer since I joined the navy. You might not believe me, but it’s true. Faith gets to be more important when you see things exploding around you and metal tearing into flesh.
I think a lot about Ben these days. I used to envy him, getting to go off at the start of the war and fly those planes and be right in the thick of it. But I guess all I was thinking about was getting even. Or maybe I wanted the glory. Turns out, there isn’t a lot of glory when it comes to the fighting. It is more sweat and fear than anything else.
Dad, I’m not sorry I joined the navy. I don’t want you thinking I am. I’m glad to be here. We didn’t have any choice but to respond after we were attacked at Pearl Harbor, and I’m proud to fight for America. But I finally realized there isn’t a guarantee that I’ll make it home. I’ve seen more than a few good men die already. Young and old. Doesn’t make
a difference. They go if a bullet or a bomb has their name on it.
General MacArthur kept his promise to return to the Philippines. I know because I was there at Leyte with him. And I want to be there when the general steps foot on the Island of Japan too. But there’s other places we’re going to have to take back from the enemy first, and from what I’ve seen, I don’t think they are going to let any of it go easy. So I am plenty aware that I might not make it to Japan, let alone make it home.
I guess more than anything I wish I let you and Mom know how much I love you when I was there to tell you in person. I’ve been thinking how young you both were when you made a home for me and Ben and Louisa. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You loved us, even when we weren’t so lovable. I’m one of the lucky ones. I realize that now more than ever. If anything happens to me, if I don’t get to come home again, I want that to be what you remember most. That I know how lucky I am.
Oscar
“Dad?”
Andrew blinked away thoughts of the letter—and was surprised to find Frani now out of the stall and standing before him, her expression somber.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“I think about them too,” she said as she slipped her arms around his waist.
“I know you do, baby.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I know you do.”
Chapter 29
Early the following Wednesday morning, Ashley stood in her bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror, wondering if others thought she looked any different. She felt so different on the inside that she wanted others to see it. She hoped they could. Sadly, neither her mom nor brother had noticed a change. Not so far, anyway. But then, Dylan had only seen her on the other side of plexiglass in a less-than-congenial setting, and the lunch with her mom on Monday had been brief because of an appointment.
“But I want them to see it,” she whispered. “I want them to see how God’s set me free.”
Each morning it seemed that she awoke with a little more hope and a little more joy and a lot more freedom.
Her phone pinged, letting her know she had a text message. It was from a guy she knew in the rescue network.
Eddie Walker: Urgent. Need help with horses. Owyhee County. Can u come with trailer?
She knew without asking that Ben would say yes, but she dialed him quickly.
“Hey, Ashley.”
“Sorry to call you so early. I’m needed for a rescue. I might not be to the barn for several hours. Maybe not until this afternoon. Is that okay?”
“Of course it is. Do you need me to come along?”
She would have loved for him to come along. She treasured the time she spent with him. She treasured it more with each passing day. But she also knew he had another commitment that morning with a counselor. “No, I can manage. I won’t be alone. Whatever’s going on, we can handle it.”
“Call me if that changes.”
“I will.”
After ending the call, she smiled, enjoying the feeling that had flowed through her at the sound of his voice. Then her eyes widened. She’d been thinking that she awoke each day with a little more hope. Suddenly she realized what she hoped for. She hoped for Ben. She hoped for a future with him. She wanted to call him back, to tell him what she’d discovered, but she couldn’t. It would have to wait. According to Eddie, the situation was urgent.
She replied to the text and soon learned her destination. Then she rushed through her morning chores, hooked the trailer to her pickup, and headed south, her dogs riding shotgun.
It took better than an hour to reach the location. The ranch, if it could be called that, was rundown. Sun-bleached buildings tilted to the side, fencing ready to topple in many places. A sign near the highway advertised “Horse Training.” If what Ashley found there was “training,” she would eat her hat. Someone had been using a whip on the horses without mercy.
“Is the guy responsible in jail?” she asked Eddie as the two of them stood at the corral fence.
“I’d like to think so. But probably it’ll just be a fine.”
An unrelenting, cold wind whistled across the sagebrush-covered desert, sending dust devils churning across the land.
Ashley turned up the collar of her coat. “So does he own these horses?”
“Not these five.” Eddie pointed. “They’re the ones we’re taking with us. And I hope their owners sue the heck out of this jerk. I’d do worse to him if I got my hands on him.”
She nodded, strong emotions making it hard to speak.
“I’m taking three with me,” Eddie continued. “Those two, the big bays, they’re going with you. The owner said they’re yours to do with as you please. You can keep or sell as long as they don’t go to a kill pen. But they’re ruined for what the owner intended, and he would never be able to sell them the way they are now.”
“Ruined?”
“You’ll see. Scared of their own shadows. Not sure anybody will ever be able to ride them again. And don’t make any sudden moves. They spook easy. May not be much fun to get them into the trailers.”
Eddie was right. It wasn’t fun. It took over an hour to coax the five frightened horses into the two trailers. By the time they were ready to pull out of the depressing place, Ashley was chilled to the bone.
Eddie stuck an arm out the window of his truck to wave goodbye as he turned right onto the highway. Ashley waved back, prepared to turn left. But she decided to send a quick text to Ben before beginning the long drive back to the farm.
Ashley: Starting drive back. Should be there around 11:30. Bringing two horses with me.
After hitting Send, she dropped the phone into the console, checked the deserted highway for traffic, and turned left. The wind pushed against the truck with full force, and she felt the two horses dance nervously in the trailer. One of them whinnied its complaint.
“Easy, boys. It’ll be better once you’re to your new home.”
She reached for the knob on the radio, hoping to find some music to drown out the lonely whistle of the wind. Mostly she found static. With a sigh, she settled for silence. Another wind gust hit the truck and trailer, and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. One of the dogs whimpered.
“Have a little faith, fellas.” She glanced to see which one had made the sound.
As her gaze returned to the road, she saw a porcupine waddle into her lane. She cringed, certain she would hit it. But instead of the thunk of a small body colliding with a tire, she felt an even stronger gust of wind push the truck and trailer sideways. Panic rose in her chest as she fought to keep the truck upright. In the next instant, they seemed to be airborne, the seat belt cutting into her chest and shoulder. A grinding sound roared in her ears, then pain exploded in her head before blackness overtook her.
* * *
As soon as Ben received Ashley’s text message, he moved horses around so that the new arrivals would have a paddock to themselves. He put hay in the wheelbarrow, although he kept it outside the pasture, not sure if the horses should eat right away or not. That would be up to Ashley.
Since she’d gotten such an early start, Ben knew she would be hungry when she arrived at the farm. Normally she brought her own sack lunch and most always ate it in her office. But even if she’d remembered to pack a lunch that morning, he decided she was going to eat something hot and filling. He wouldn’t take no for an answer today.
At eleven thirty, he had soup on the stove and toasted French bread warm in the oven. It was still there at noon with no sign of Ashley. After another fifteen minutes, he texted her, asking for her ETA. No answer. Which, if she was driving, was for the best.
By twelve thirty, he’d grown anxious. He called her phone, but it went to voice mail.
At the tone, he said, “Ashley, it’s Ben. Just wondering when you thought you’d be here. It’s already twelve thirty. Give me a call. Okay?”
* * *
Ashley stretched her arm as fa
r as possible, but she couldn’t reach her phone. It lay against the passenger door, quiet now. It had turned in circles when it buzzed from an incoming call.
With a groan, she touched the top of her head. The pain seemed worse, even though the flow of blood had stopped. Her hair and scalp were sticky now. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there or how many times she’d wafted in and out of consciousness.
From what she could tell, the truck was on its side in a ravine. Her seat belt had held her in place so she hadn’t fallen to the other side of the cab, but it was also her seat belt that continued to hold her captive. She was unable to reach the buckle with her right hand, and to complicate things, her left arm had been injured. There was no strength in it. Not even enough to move it.
Speed and Jack both seemed to be okay. Banged up a bit, perhaps, but able to move about. Jack had stayed in the cab with her, but at some point, Speed had crawled out through the now missing back window. The wind whistled through the opening, and she shivered, feeling the chill. Miraculously, the horse trailer was upright—she could turn her head enough to see that—and the two horses inside were quiet for now. All she could do was pray they were unharmed. As if they hadn’t been through enough already.
“God, help us,” she moaned as her eyes drifted closed once again.
Wednesday, April 4, 1945
The Henning family gathered on the farm to celebrate Louisa’s nineteenth birthday. There were nine of them gathered around the table that day. Andrew and Helen. Andrew’s parents and Mother Greyson. Louisa and Samuel. Frani and Andy Jr.
Looking at his oldest daughter, six months pregnant, her face glowing with happiness, Andrew felt a surge of thanksgiving. They were not all here. They were not all protected from the perils of war. But God had brought them safe thus far.
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