Disengaged (Terms of Engagement Book 3)

by Melissa R. L. Simonin

  ROB readjusted his scarf, and took a moment to breath. He was possibly more exhausted than he’d ever been, but he was nearly there. He was pretty sure of it. Either that, or he was lost.

  That was a less than comforting thought. He gave himself a sarcastic thank you, for pointing that out, then moved on.

  On both sides of the snow covered expanse down which he traveled, the trees were almost certain indicators that he was on the right track. In some places the pines drew back, but as the road neared the lodge, they stood together on each side like a row of sentinels.

  Rob wasn’t lost, and he probably made better time than he thought. If it took two days to get where he was, the sun would’ve risen at least once, since he left the cabin.

  He paused again, and took a moment to scan the horizon, or as much of it as he could make out in the darkness. He felt alarm as he looked slightly to the right, and registered a faint glow on the other side of the trees. If the sun was rising—He’d be facing the other direction, he reminded himself. Unless he managed to get himself completely turned around, then that light could only mean one thing.

  Despite his exhaustion, Rob pushed himself harder, following the row of trees in a gradual curve to the right. The glow grew steadily brighter, until at last he rounded the bend.

  Surrounded by snow and blazing with light, stood Pine Mountain Lodge. Through the wall of glass that spanned the entire front of the spacious lobby from floor, to second-story vaulted ceiling, he caught a glimpse of the wood plank walls, central fireplace, the comfortable couches and chairs that surrounded it, and the enormous deer antler chandelier high above. The log cabin style wings on each side of the lobby held guest rooms, dining, and shops, the most important of which, was the pro shop.

  Rob headed across what would one day be the parking lot, and straight to the nearest door. He used his gloved hands to free the keypad of snow, then popped open the cover, and carefully punched in the code. That didn’t work, so he removed his glove and tried again.

  The red light turned to green, and the bolt clicked. Rob grabbed the handle, and the door opened. He entered gratefully, and closed it behind him.

  His feet felt unbelievably heavy, as he stomped to rid his boots of snow. He swiped at his coat and pants with hands that were thick with cold, then pushed back his hood, and managed to unzip his jacket. He unwound his scarf and pulled off his ski mask, as he clumsily followed the hall past guest rooms and suites, to the lobby.

  The temperature inside the lodge was blessedly warm, compared to the out of doors. His outerwear functioned as it should, and the exertion of the journey kept his blood flowing, and his extremities from freezing. His scarf protected his throat and lungs to some extent, but breathing deeply of the frigid air for hours, days, whatever it was, left him chilled. What he wouldn’t give to have a fire burning in the massive fireplace. What wouldn’t he pay, for the chance to lie down on one of the couches, and rest for a while. His eyelids felt heavy and dizziness washed over him, as he crossed the floor to the west wing, and the pro shop’s entrance.

  On the other side of the shop window, an assortment of outerwear, ski equipment, and other winter sport paraphernalia, was in the process of being unpacked and displayed. That would soon have his attention, but not until he replaced the energy he was sorely lacking.

  Rob punched the code into the keypad beside the door, and it opened.

  He headed straight toward the refrigerator case, which was empty, and the open box in front of it. He reached for one of the energy drinks packed inside, and drank it down. Beside the case, boxes of protein and energy bars lined the floor in front of a long set of shelves. A variety of trail mixes and chocolate bars filled one section, and granola bars another. Rob finished off another energy drink, then made short work of several packages of trail mix and a couple of granola and chocolate bars.

  As his energy level slowly replenished, he lay aside his coat, and took stock of the non-food items available to him.

  Duffle bags, to securely hold the food and supplies he intended to stuff them with. Disc sleds, and rope to lash bags to sleds, and sleds to each other. He looked critically from a set of cross-country skis, to a pair of snowshoes, and opted for the shoes.

  Rob turned to the matter of clothing. That shouldn’t be too hard, considering Samantha needed at least one of everything. He picked up a bag, and systematically worked his way through the women’s clothing section.

  A coat suited to the climate, was a must. So were snow pants and boots. Socks, gloves, scarf, and cap, were also essential. He added a couple of long sleeve shirts, pants, a heavy sweater, and hiking boots. They’d be no use in the snow, but they’d keep her feet warmer than nothing but a pair of socks. After filling two bags to the bursting point, he securely lashed them to one of the sleds.

  He paused briefly to eat and drink some more, then began loading more bags with an assortment of the foodstuffs the pro shop provided.

  He might be overdoing it, he thought, as he tied down the contents of yet a third sled. Then again, considering how thoroughly entrenched the storm was, he might not be. Whatever the case, he was determined to ensure there would be no need to come back.

  Now that his energy was beginning to return and he no longer felt lightheaded, he checked the radar app.

  The crease between his eyes deepened, then smoothed slightly. He was significantly behind schedule according to time, but more importantly, so was the storm. As long as it cooperated, he could afford to spend a few more minutes replenishing his energy, and still make it back to the cabin. Exhaustion continued to wash over him in waves, but in every other way the return trip would be easier, thanks to the clearly blazed trail, snowshoes, and daylight.

  As a result of the delay, the sun would be in the sky by the time he started back. Unless Samantha slept in—a lot—he had no chance of getting back to the cabin before she woke up.

  Now he regretted leaving the note he thought she’d never find. It seemed like the polite thing to do at the time, but all it would do is make her worry. It might remind her that she loved him. But it wouldn’t make her trust him, and without that, the best they’d ever have was momentary happiness, followed by distrust and heartache.

  Rob rubbed his face wearily, then picked up another duffle bag and had one last look around, adding anything else he thought might be of use to him or Samantha. Convinced he had all they could possibly need, and that he would owe the pro shop a fortune whenever it opened for business, he sat down and gave himself a moment to rest.

  Rob checked the radar app again, then opened his phone’s album. As he looked at the photos of his son, sadness filled him.

  It was impossible to believe that just a couple of days ago, he was hoping to satisfy Samantha with the offer of a cat. He was terrified at the thought of having a kid, then. He was afraid he couldn’t love a child the way one ought to be. Now, as he looked into Caleb’s blue eyes, his only fear was that his son would never know how much he loved him.

  Exhaustion, of the emotional kind, washed over him. He understood why Samantha didn’t tell him two years ago, when she found out she was pregnant. What he didn’t understand, was why she didn’t tell him as soon as they reconciled. His only conclusion was that she never really trusted him. Obviously. Because if she did, they’d still be together, figuratively. Literally, he’d be right where he was, right now. But as a couple, they’d be together. They’d be a family.

  She lost her trust in him, and it was too late to do anything about that. It was more than two years too late. He began eroding her faith in him long before that, and he did such a thorough job, she was fully convinced never to trust him again. A month from now, if she found out she was expecting their second child, he wouldn’t hear about that one, either.

  He sighed, and reached for a water bottle and another granola bar. He had yet to make up for the energy he exerted on the way to the lodge, much less the missing meals since their Thanksgiving Dinner.

  Rob glanced at t
he radar app again, then returned his phone to his pocket. He leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. In another five minutes, he would gear up, and head back out.

  The distant slam of a door sounded from outside the pro shop, and Rob’s eyes flew open. He sat motionless, his scalp prickling, as he strained to catch additional sound.

  Muscles tense and nerves on the alert, he spent several of his precious minutes listening. He heard nothing more.

  Rob slowly stood. Avoiding the windows looking out onto the lobby and corridor, he followed the perimeter of the room to the door. He kept his ears on the alert, but his slow, careful footsteps on the carpeted floor were the only sounds.

  There were no other sounds now. But there was, and the sense of uneasiness that filled him wouldn’t be minimized or reasoned away.

  Rob peered cautiously around the frame of the window.

  His phone’s ringtone nearly sent him through the roof. He swiftly silenced it with the press of a switch, as his heart did its level best to pound out of his chest. He leaned with his back against the door for several seconds, as he caught his breath and waited for his heart to slow, then carefully surveyed the corridor.

  He saw nothing to evoke concern. Edging his way to the next window, he looked out on the lobby, and found nothing more alarming than couches, chairs, the heavy wool area rug, wood floors, massive fireplace, and the antler chandelier. And… the rising sun.

  Rob felt more unsettled, instead of less. That door didn’t slam by itself, and he didn’t have time for this! If he didn’t head back now, he might not make it back, at all. He hovered for a moment, indecisive, then stepped out into the hall and quietly closed the door behind him.

  Rob stood for a moment, scanning the long corridor that ran from one end of the west wing, to the other. Wall sconces between each guest room lit the space softly, illuminating the numbers of each closed door. The hum of the vending machine halfway down the hall, was the only sound.

  Across from the corridor-side of the pro shop, stood the lodge’s on-site restaurant. Through the lit window, he saw tables and chairs in the process of being arranged, along with several boxes. If he thought they contained anything of use, he might investigate. But it was unlikely, and he was out of time.

  Rob gave the lobby another brief glance, then reached for the pro shop’s keypad.

  At the end of the hall, a door closed softly. Adrenaline hit Rob like an electric shock, and he steeled himself as he turned and looked into the face of a guy he never saw before in his life.

  “It’s about time you picked me up,” the man said.

  Chapter 26

  ROB’S expression remained neutral, as his mind raced. The other man, stocky, with dark hair, definitely a stranger, now looked a little surprised. His eyes narrowed as he slowed to a stop, and casually reached behind his back.

  That wasn’t good.

  “I got here as fast as I could,” Rob replied, as he sized the man up, crossed his arms, and leaned against the door. “Or didn’t you know there was a blizzard? It doesn’t exactly make for easy travel.”

  “You’re not Randall,” the man pointed out suspiciously.

  Rob wondered if Erik knew there was a fifth party involved in the plan to sabotage their development.

  “Thanks for noticing,” Rob laughed shortly. If the other man didn’t have a gun tucked behind his back, and if Rob wasn’t handicapped by overexertion, they’d be evenly matched in a fight. But Rob was, and he’d bet money the guy did. “Randall and Jess couldn’t make it. They got held up.”

  “Oh,” the guy relaxed a little. He no longer held his hand behind his back, which didn’t disappoint Rob. The guy looked back at him curiously. “How did you get here?”

  “I hiked in. Did you get the job done?”

  “Yeah. It’s not like I had anything else to do,” the guy looked a little irritable. “Every room’s got a Bible, but dish isn’t hooked up yet.”

  “You should try reading it sometime,” Rob retorted, and moved right along. “How long’ve you been here? Since the storm started, on Monday?”

  “That’s right,” the guy said.

  “That’s a long time,” Rob commented, with a low whistle. He moved down the hall, took several coins out of his pocket, and loaded them into the soda machine. “Want one?”

  “Uh… yeah, sure,” the guy replied, and fully relaxed his suspicion. He joined Rob by the machine, and the two men made their selections.

  “The snack machine doesn’t appear empty,” Rob noted. The pro shop wasn’t broken into, either. “How did you get by?”

  “The canned and dry foods in the kitchen,” the man answered.

  “How stocked is it?” Rob wondered.

  “Nothing fresh, but enough to get by in a pinch. How are we getting out of here? You said you hiked in?” the guy asked.

  “Until the weather clears up, it’s the only way in, or out,” Rob replied.

  “Then let’s get going. I’m sick of this place! I don’t know why anyone’d want to vacation here.”

  “It’s cured me of ever wanting to ski again,” Rob answered ruefully, and the guy laughed.

  That was good, the guy was laughing. The guy with the gun, who didn’t spend the last several hours in icy darkness, wearing himself out by hiking in from the cabins. He didn’t spend the last couple of days on starvation rations, either.

  Rob focused on drinking the soda in his hand, and coming up with a plan to disarm the guy, overpower him, and find out who he worked for. All without getting himself killed, and driving the guy straight down the trail of broken snow, to Samantha.

  It wasn’t an overabundance of trail mix that made his stomach tighten at that thought.

  Rob set thoughts and plans aside for the moment, and prayed.

  SAMANTHA gripped her forehead as she heard Rob’s voice on the other end of the line. His recorded voice, informing her he couldn’t take her call right now, but if she left her name, number, and a brief message, he would get back to her as soon as possible.

  “Rob, please call me. I’m so sorry for everything. I do trust you, and I never should’ve told you I didn’t. I am so sorry. Please forgive me, and call me as soon as you can. And be safe. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.”

  Samantha brushed tears from her eyes as she tapped her phone’s screen to end the message. She set it aside, then turned and watched the sun rise slowly behind the mountains in the east.

  Rob said in his note he’d be back before she woke up. He didn’t expect her to wake up in the dead of night, obviously, but he wouldn’t expect her to sleep in, either.

  She ordered herself to be encouraged. Rob would be back soon, he could be back any minute now.

  Samantha hopped up and crossed the few steps to the front door, then opened it with caution. On the other side, snow rose above her waist, in a tightly packed wall of icy white. She peered over it anxiously, and found the path Rob broke from the back of the cabin to the front. It led off to the right, then disappeared behind a mountainous drift. A few pine branches studded the frozen mound, attesting to the trees’ icy burial.

  Samantha stood, watching, waiting, hoping, but she saw no sign of Rob, and there was no sound.

  She shivered, and closed the door.

  He would be cold after the long hard walk, most of which was accomplished during the dark of night. Samantha slid back the fireplace screen, and added wood until it roared. Glancing out the west window at the trail that was clearly visible now, her heart squeezed with anxiety.

  He had to come back, she insisted, as if somehow believing hard enough, would ensure it.

  She turned away from the window, and returned to her place on the couch. Clasping her hands to her heart, she bowed her head and prayed she was right.

  ERIK sat eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen table in the suite he shared with his brother, as he watched the silent weather forecast.

  Finally, sometime in the next day or two, the weather system hovering over
Pine Mountain was expected to move on. Erik hoped that would be the case. Maybe Rob wouldn’t have to hike to the lodge, after all.

  The longest lull in the weather thus far, occurred during the previous night. In another hour or two, the storm would return, but it wouldn’t last as long as before. Each break would come more frequently, until finally the storm was at an end. Soon, either Erik would find a way up there, or the sheriff office would send in a rescue team.

  As long as the forecast was correct, of course.

  Erik prayed it was, and that when Rob and Samantha returned, they would remain together, rather than separate. If she had any idea he was a believer now, maybe she’d trust the changes she saw in him. The fact that he didn’t let anger get the better of him anymore, ought to tell her something.

  Amber would talk to Samantha, as soon as she managed to reach her. Amber would plead his case, and then… Erik hoped Samantha would make the right decision. Whatever else happened, he was glad Rob knew about Caleb. It was a relief to not have to keep that from him anymore, but his heart hurt for his brother. Erik imagined how he would feel, in his place.

  Now he felt anxious, and a little sick. He shoved aside the cereal he had no appetite for, and prayed some more for his brother. He also prayed for his relationship with Amber, and for help in resolving any issues that might come up.

  Having relieved himself of those burdens, he glanced at his watch. It wasn’t likely that Conner’s office would be open at all, on a Saturday. It certainly wouldn’t be, this early in the morning. But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be reached by cellphone.

  Erik referred to the text he received from his grandfather the day before, and called Conner’s number.

  “Stevens Construction,” a woman’s voice answered, on the second ring.

  “Is Conner in?” Erik asked, masking his surprise. “I thought this was his cell number.”

  “It is,” the woman answered cheerfully. “May I ask who’s calling?”

  Erik hesitated briefly.

  “This is Erik, Conner and I are friends. If he’s available, I’d like to speak to him for a just a minute.”