Ever Faithful

by Karen Barnett

  “He shouldn’t have said that, but he was upset.” Elsie pushed away a limb leaning over the trail. “It would be easy for a little incident like that to turn into a major forest fire. And so close to the hotel? That would be a disaster.”

  She was right, of course. The sight had shaken him too. If the fire had broken out an hour earlier while the show was getting started, they’d never have spotted it. And with nearly the entire crew crammed into the hall, plus their guests? His stomach churned at the thought. Or if it had started later, after everyone was in bed—then what?

  The fire had left everyone on edge. Before the men turned in for the night, there had been two separate fistfights. Ricci had repeated a Polish joke from the show to a buddy in the latrine, only to have Bukowski and Nowak jump him on his way out the door. Then Moretti pinned Nowak an hour later. Just as everyone was starting to get along. As a result, most of the crew found themselves with extra duties today.

  “Did you figure out the cause?” Elsie asked.

  Nate shook his head. “No one saw anything, and Cook said he hadn’t been out there since supper and he’d only dumped food scraps. Nothing that would explain the flare up.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It acted more like a fuel fire. Blazed up hot and fast. Like someone had filled the bin with oily rags and dropped in a match.”

  “Why would anyone do that?”

  “Don’t think they would.” He led her to a log overlooking the creek and waited as she found a place to sit. “We all worked hard on that building. The crew was proud of it. I can’t see anyone wanting to endanger it. Not anyone from our camp, anyway.”

  She shielded her eyes as she looked up at him. “Are you suggesting someone from outside the camp might have done it?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything.” He sat next to her, keeping a safe distance between them.

  She took her bag from his hand, opened it, and removed a small book. “It was probably just an accident.”

  The sight of the reader made him break out in a sweat. Nate covered his eyes for a moment before dragging his fingers through his hair. “I wish you’d let this go.”

  “You said yourself that your job is dependent on reading.”

  He could use a raccoon distraction about now. “It’s not like I haven’t tried.”

  She laid a hand on his leg. “I know. I understand. Just humor me.”

  He looked at her slender fingers resting on his knee. Elsie had no clue what she did to him. If she did, she wouldn’t be alone with him out here, and she certainly wouldn’t be touching him. “I appreciate your help, Elsie. But it’s a waste of your time.”

  She smiled and opened the book. “It’s my time to do with as I choose, right?” She held it out to him, open to the first page. “Do you know any words?”

  “Not very many.”

  “Show me which ones.”

  He sighed, leaning close to peer at the page. Squinting, he pressed his fingers against the paper, tracing the line. “The ca—cat…” he trailed off as the letters swarmed like a kicked-over anthill. Nate rubbed his eyes. Repeating the first two words, he paused. The next word had an “s” and a “t.” “Stood?”

  “Sits.”

  He bit his lip, shifting away from her. “I can’t.”

  She pointed to the next line. “Try this.”

  He set his jaw. Again, he got the first word or two, but he couldn’t make it through the sentence. She had him try another.

  “Is that how it always is?”

  “What?”

  “You start slow with some hesitation, but eventually you get the word right. After that, though, you’re guessing based on the first letter.”

  “I can get some short words. But I can’t get the longer ones at all.”

  She took her hand and covered most of the page. “Try reading just the first words of each line.”

  He mangled his way through the list, getting some of them and trying not to be distracted by how her pale skin stood out next to his tanned arm.

  She sat up, looking at him. “Nate, you can read.”

  He grunted. “A word here and there, sure.”

  “What goes wrong after the first couple of words?”

  “They move.”

  The frown that spread across Elsie’s features took him back to his grade school classroom. The teacher who accused him of lying. His throat tightened. Here we go.

  “They move?”

  Nate stood, his leg muscles stiff from sitting on the low log. He turned and faced her. Best to get this over with. “The words are like train cars on a track.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “When I first glance at the page, I see the order to it. But then,” he glanced up at the tree branches blocking the sky. “Everything derails. The letters jumble around and squeeze together, looking more like a flock of sheep milling around a pen.” He squeezed his fingers into a fist. “Just when I figure out where one is, its neighbor has wandered off somewhere. If I focus on that one, I lose the ones I’ve already corralled.”

  She tapped her pencil against the book, studying his face as if she was piecing together what he meant. “So it’s not the words that are the problem.”

  “I didn’t say that. Longer ones start shifting before I’ve even gotten started.”

  She nodded, closing the book. “I see.”

  Finally. Nate relaxed, the tension gripping his spine releasing. Now she could go back to teaching Shakespeare and geology to the students who mattered. He wandered over to the creek. It cut a path through the meadow, the sunlight sparkling off the water like so many jewels. A bulky brown shape downstream caught his eye. “Is that…” his voice choked off. He remembered watching the grizzlies wrestling each other for the scraps of food at the feeding station back at Canyon. But there they’d had a heavy fence and an armed ranger standing between the bruin and the crowd.

  Elsie jumped up, tucking the book into her bag. “What?” She hurried to his side.

  As he watched, the creature lifted its massive head, water dripping from its shaggy coat.

  Not a bear, he could see that now. “Buffalo…” The word slipped out with a long breath—probably the one he’d been holding.

  She slid in beside him, leaning against his arm as she stared upstream. “Big fellow.”

  “What’s it doing out here? I thought they all lived at the Lamar Buffalo Ranch.” The animal stood in the water, midstream, water nearly touching its belly and dripping from its brushy beard. Nate’s heart beat against his ribs, his terror from the moment before transforming into wonder.

  “It must be part of the wild herd. The bison bulls sometimes wander off on their own if they’re not strong enough to claim the females. I’ve never seen one in this area, though.”

  “He must be lonely.” Nate couldn’t help but feel sorry for the lone male. “It’s sure an incredible sight.”

  “It makes the trip worthwhile, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m glad it wasn’t a complete waste of your time. Thanks for trying to help me with the reading, but it’s good that you’re giving up on the idea.”

  “Giving up? Not a chance. But we should give that big fella some space. They don’t look kindly on being interrupted.” She swung the bag over her shoulder. “Can you meet tomorrow evening after supper?”

  She couldn’t be this stubborn. “I’m sure you really don’t want to do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m hopeless. You shouldn’t bother.”

  She quirked a brow as though daring him to say more. After a moment, Elsie’s smile melted his resistance.

  He folded his arms. “If you’re willing to put up with me, college girl, why not?”

  “I think we should meet outside again. Can you think of a lovelier classroom?”

  “No ma’am.” He couldn’t.

&
nbsp; And certainly not a lovelier teacher.

  * * *

  The yellow tour bus rolled to a stop in front of the Canyon Hotel, the open windows and rolled-back canvas top allowing the conversations of the excited visitors to pour into the warm afternoon air.

  Elsie gripped the strap of her bag as she strode past, the heavy books swinging against her back. She couldn’t get over Nate’s description of lines of words. No wonder he struggled to read. But why did he see them that way? She’d spent enough time gazing at those green eyes—far more than she should—but couldn’t see anything unusual about them, aside from their fascinating color.

  As Graham finished unloading his passengers’ luggage and handing it over to the pack rats, he stopped to wave at Elsie. Jogging her direction, he caught up. “Elsie, I’m glad I ran into you.”

  She batted away her instinctive negative feelings toward her cousin. Her mother had asked her to forgive him, after all. “It looks like you’ve settled in well as a gear jammer. My father must be pleased that he recommended you.”

  Graham doffed his cap and tucked it under his arm. “I hope so. It’s been a dream job. I thought I would be happy just to have a paycheck, but this is incredible. I meet the best people. One of those fellows is a banker with Wells Fargo in San Francisco. Can you imagine? After all the bank failures a few years ago, I never expected to meet one.”

  She hugged the bag to her side. “Maybe he can get you a job when you’re done here.”

  “I hope so. He seemed impressed with my driving skills. Said the hills and curves reminded him of home.”

  “I was surprised to see you at the CCC talent show last night.”

  “Rose invited me. That fire was pretty crazy, though.” He ran a gloved hand across his face. “Brought back unpleasant memories.”

  Ones she didn’t want to discuss—especially with him. “Graham, I’m a little worried about Rose.”

  Graham met her gaze with a slow shake of the head. “Poor kid has been through a lot, it sounds like.”

  “And you’re not helping.”

  “I—what?” His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  Elsie stepped aside to let a handful of tourists go by. “You must know how she feels about you.”

  He covered his eyes. “Elsie—”

  “She’s my friend, Graham.”

  “Which is exactly why I put her off the idea.” A black-billed magpie sailed past and landed on the top of the bus, flashing its iridescent tail feathers. “She’s a lovely girl, and kind too. She deserves a handsome young guy, not…” He turned his hands outward for a moment before stuffing them in his pockets. “Not someone like me. I want to spend time with lots of different girls, not be someone’s steady fella. Even without these paws, I’ve got enough problems to fill an entire steamer trunk. I told her, I’m not just a stumbling block; I’m the whole Continental Divide.”

  “And I understand how you feel—trust me, I do.” She tried not to think about her own scars. “Why do you think I’ve tried to keep you apart?”

  “Then we’re in agreement.”

  “But you do have feelings for her?”

  He closed his eyes. “That’s beside the point.”

  “I don’t think so.” Elsie leaned against the yellow bus. “If you didn’t care for her, you wouldn’t still be hanging about. You’d have let her down and then made yourself scarce. But you’re still here. Still trying to be her friend.”

  “The only reason I’ve been hanging about is because she needs a friend.”

  The sentiment echoed though her heart. He was close but hadn’t gotten it exactly right. “No, Graham. You need a friend.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s not your problem, is it?”

  Elsie dug through her pain, searching for a seed of forgiveness lodged somewhere in her heart. Lord, please help me find it. “It’s been hard for me, seeing you here. And then, the fires.” She paused, searching for the right words. “Graham, I know you didn’t mean to start the fire that killed Dottie.”

  “But I didn’t just start it, did I?” His eyes filled with tears, and he turned away. “If I hadn’t panicked and run when it first started, you wouldn’t…you wouldn’t…”

  I wouldn’t have gone in after my baby sister.

  “I was so scared. But fear didn’t stop you. I had to drag you out kicking and screaming, even after the burning timber knocked you down. You didn’t even realize…” Graham’s voice cracked. He closed his eyes. “You were the hero. I was nothing but a coward.”

  Her cousin’s admission tore through her, erasing something dark and ugly. She wrapped her fingers around his arm, pulling his gloved hands into hers. “You carried me out and put out the flames on my dress with these hands. Those aren’t the actions of a coward. And as for the rest…” My home. My life. My sister. “Graham, I forgive you.”

  “What is this gizmo?” Nate perched on the log and frowned at the strip of paperboard with a small rectangle cut from the center. He and Elsie had met four more times without much progress. Both of them had been frustrated. Then today, she showed up with this thing.

  “It’s an idea I had. I thought it might help you focus on one word at a time.” Elsie demonstrated, sliding the ruler over the page. A single word showed in the gap, while everything else remained hidden. “It won’t fix everything, but I hope it will help you practice without getting overwhelmed.”

  “I don’t know about this, college girl.” She’d actually fashioned it from two strips nested together. The smaller one slid along inside, increasing the size of the opening. “Hey, you can make it wider.”

  “For longer words. Or you can work up to a few words at a time.” She pressed it back to the page. “Let’s keep it small for now.”

  “How did you think of this?”

  “I was grading arithmetic assignments using a slide rule. Have you operated one before?”

  “Once or twice. For some reason, I can do figures, just not words.”

  “With a slide rule, the window draws your eyes to the answer. This should work the same way. You don’t need all the rest of the words confusing your vision.” She scooted closer. Her leg brushed against his. “Try it. It’s just an experiment.”

  A single word stared up at him. Dog. Nate slid the gadget over, pausing on each complete word. Runs. To. The. Woods. “The dog runs to the woods.”

  Elsie grabbed his arm, her fingers pressing into his bicep. “Yes!”

  Energy shot through his chest and shoulders, and he moved the ruler and ran a finger over the words. He’d read a whole sentence! Setting it back on the page, Nate centered the window over another word and stumbled through another line. Elsie helped him to sound out each word until his cadence eased to a halting rhythm.

  She grabbed his wrist, jostling the book. “Nate, you’re doing it.” She slid her grip up to his elbow, the warmth of her hand against his skin sending a new shockwave through his system. “You’re reading!”

  The ruler had slid askew with the jarring motion, so he straightened it, and the next word fell into the window on cue. Went. Over. “The fish went over the falls.” He whispered the line a second time. “That’s incredible.” He pushed his way through two whole paragraphs just to prove it wasn’t a fluke. His eyes ached with the effort, but the words made sense for the first time in his life.

  The pressure of Elsie’s touch anchored him with the courage to keep at it, though a large part of him wanted to stop and pull her into his arms. She’d cracked open a door he’d thought was forever closed to him. Is it possible that reading would get easier for him? Could he someday join the classes the other fellas were taking? His heart lodged in his throat. At the end of the page, he stopped and caught his breath.

  “You read the entire page.” She laid her cheek against his shoulder. “Yesterday you couldn’t get through a single line.
I’m so proud of you.”

  “Proud of you.” How long had he waited to hear those words? Every bit of tension washed out of him, as if draining from his feet. What would his father say at this moment? Would he echo Elsie’s sentiment or insist it was too little, too late? “I’m…” Nate shook his head, a surge of emotion climbing his throat. He turned to face her, his heart pounding as if he’d just run five miles. “Thank you. Thank you for sticking with me.”

  She grinned, her face aglow. “You did this. It was all you, Nate Webber. I told you—you’re brilliant.”

  If only his childhood teachers could hear her words. “I wouldn’t go that far. I think I finally found a teacher who understands me.” A woman who understands me. The thought swept over him like the wind through the branches above their heads. Lord, this woman understands me. How is that possible?

  In that moment, he reached for her face, unable to resist the energy coming from her smile. He ran a finger along her cheekbone. “Elsie, you’re the first person who’s ever cared enough to make an effort to understand me.”

  Her smile softened, her lips parting slightly. “I do care, Nate. More than you know.”

  Nate wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss her, but he pulled himself up short. He wasn’t the type to kiss another man’s girl. However, he couldn’t resist glancing at her lips and imagining their softness against his own. Was she thinking the same?

  He dropped his hand back to the book, tearing his gaze away from hers. If he looked into her eyes one moment longer, he’d lose all control. This day was about reading, not stealing kisses in the woods. Especially not from someone who was already taken.

  Her grip on his arm lessened, and her hand fell away. “I am excited for you. If you keep working, this could open so many doors for your future.”