Memories: A Husband to RememberNew Year's Daddy (Hqn)

by Lisa Jackson

  She dialed Tim Sether and explained the situation, then took Amy over to her sister’s.

  “Any word?” Shelly asked as she answered the door. Wearing jeans and a heavy sweater, she offered her sister a cup of tea or coffee, but Ronni couldn’t stand the thought of sitting around and waiting. Outside, the temperature was barely twenty degrees and the winds and snow weren’t supposed to let up for another day. Power outages were still widespread and a few of the smaller roads were closed. When Shelly asked about Bryan, Ronni felt an ache deep in her soul.

  “We haven’t heard anything.”

  “Fool kid,” Shelly said, eyeing the sky through the window and shivering though a fire was blazing in the grate and the little duplex was warm enough. “Well, don’t worry about Amy. She’ll be fine here. Besides, I owe you, big time.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Right as rain,” Shelly said with a sad smile. “Things have a way of working out. I’m still upset about losing the baby, but I’ve got to remember I’ve got the twins and they’re healthy as all get out. If we want more kids later, we’ll have another baby. Vic and I have already talked. Now, you find that boy of Travis’s.”

  “I will,” Ronni promised as she reached for the doorknob. She only wished she knew where to start looking.

  * * *

  Before returning to the lodge, she stopped by her house, the cabin she’d shared with Hank, then with Amy. Her life with her first husband seemed so long ago now as she stared at the hardwood floors, old couch and Christmas tree that had yet to be taken down. She picked up some camping gear, her snowshoes, skis and first-aid kit. Then she packed three bags of warm garments including her ski clothes and long underwear, loaded everything into the van and walked through the snow to the barn to feed the horses.

  It was dark inside, but an anxious nicker called to her as she fumbled for the pitchfork and shone her flashlight around the barn. Lucy, always the more nervous of the two, whinnied softly. “How’re you guys, hmm?” she asked, feeling as if something wasn’t right, yet unable to put her finger on the problem. “Cold enough for you?”

  Another nicker and she directed the beam of the light into the stalls. Lucy tossed her white head, then blinked against the glare of the light as she stood in the thick straw. Her ears twitched nervously as Ronni draped a red horse blanket over the Mare’s back and snapped it into place. “You’ll be okay,” she said, moving to the next stall and stopping short. The enclosure was empty, the gate unlatched. “What the devil?” Sam had somehow escaped, and he hadn’t done it alone. A bridle, saddle blanket and saddle were missing. Her heart lurched. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Bryan had walked over here last night, saddled the gray and ridden off on him.

  But where?

  And why in the middle of the worst storm in five years?

  She was about to run to the house and call Travis when she noticed a piece of notebook paper, folded neatly and left in the manger. Heart racing, she smoothed the creases and began to read Bryan’s sloppy scrawl.

  Travis

  I’m leaving. I know you won’t understand, but I just can’t take it anymore down here in the middle of nowhere and you don’t need me, anyway. You’ve got your new wife and your new kid. I don’t know how many times I heard Amy say she wanted a daddy for Christmas, well, it looks like she got herself one for New Year’s. Don’t tell Mom.

  Bryan

  “Dear God,” Ronni whispered, her heart pounding, tears burning the back of her eyes as she dashed out of the barn, leaving a bewildered and hungry Lucy. In the house, she had to keep her fingers from shaking, then punched out the number for the lodge.

  Travis was quick to answer. “Hello?”

  “He’s run away. On Sam. He left a note and took a saddle and bridle and—”

  “Whoa, slow down.” Travis’s voice was grim. “Now, take a deep breath and start over. What’s this about Bryan leaving a note and running away?”

  Trying to stay calm, Ronni repeated everything, reading him the note and hearing the soft groan of denial from the other end of the line. “I’ll be home in five minutes,” she said.

  “I’ll call the sheriff again.”

  She hung up and felt the breath of doom on her neck. It was her fault Bryan had run away, her fault that at this moment he could be lying near death, freezing on the damned mountain. Just like before. Just like with Hank.

  By the time she’d thrown Lucy two forkfuls of hay and driven to the lodge, a search party had formed. Tim Sether, Vic, Travis and a few other men and women who worked with her promised to gather volunteers and comb the surrounding woods. A deputy from the sheriff’s department stopped by and helped organize the search.

  Meanwhile, Travis read his son’s note, once, twice, even a third time before crumpling the sheet of notebook paper in his fist. A muscle tightened in his jaw and his eyes narrowed in determination. “I’ll find him,” he assured Ronni. “Or die trying.”

  “Don’t even say it.”

  “Let’s just hope he sticks to the main roads,” Tim said, his round face creased with concern. “What’s he wearing?”

  “I’m not sure, I didn’t see him leave, but his navy ski jacket and pants are missing, along with the red stocking hat and face mask he wears up on the slopes.” Travis’s face was drawn, his eyes cloudy with worry.

  “Hang in there,” Ronni encouraged, though she couldn’t force a smile. “He’s going to be fine.”

  “Okay, everyone gather ’round.” Tim laid out maps of the area on the kitchen table and Ronni heated hot water for tea and instant coffee. They discussed their plan of attack, called the weather service for conditions and coordinated the search with the sheriff.

  Most of the searchers would start on foot, helicopters would be called in when the storm let up and snowmobiles and four-wheel drive rigs would be used where possible. They’d form a grid and work their way south, covering as much ground as possible with the men and women they had.

  Ronni was elected to stay at the lodge near the phone and she protested violently. “No way, I know this mountain better than anyone.”

  Travis would hear none of it. “Someone’s got to remain here.”

  “But he’s my son now.”

  “And you’ve got a daughter who needs you. We can’t risk losing you...” His eyes touched hers. “I can’t risk that.”

  “I can help. Here I’m trapped,” she whispered as one of the searchers raised an eyebrow and shot a look in her direction.

  “I know, but I couldn’t stand it if I lost you, too.”

  “Damn it, Travis, you can’t force me to stay here.”

  “It’s important that someone oversees the phones. What if Bryan calls? What if one of the searchers finds him? What if they need an ambulance? Someone’s got to be here to receive and relay messages.”

  “It’s best this way,” Tim agreed and Ronni wanted to throttle him. She couldn’t sit idle and twiddle her thumbs, staring at her watch and worrying herself to death.

  “Please, Ronni, just this once, do as I ask.” Travis’s eyes searched hers and despite the clamoring in her heart that she was making a mistake, that she could help more by combing the lower slopes of the mountain, she nodded.

  “If you think it’s best,” she said, hating the words.

  He kissed her on the temple so gently, she thought her heart would crack.

  “Okay, let’s do it,” Tim said. Everyone on the team carried flares and tracking devices, most had walkie-talkies. By nine o’clock, they left, fanning out from Ronni’s place and the lodge, braving the storm and hoping to find a scared teenage boy in a whiteout.

  Ronni wrapped her arms around her middle and stared outside. She couldn’t shake a horrid premonition as she watched Travis leave. He was headed around the lake to s
earch the forest around the base of Mount Echo and Ronni experienced a sickening sense of déjà vu, that this was the last time she’d ever see her new husband or his son, that the mountain would win again.

  * * *

  “Bryan!” Travis’s voice boomed through the forest and echoed back at him. He stopped in his tracks, listened but only heard his own words over the force of the wind. He moved forward and with each step, his heart shredded. How could anyone survive in this? He could barely see four feet in front of him and the cold air froze against his nose. “Bryan! Bryan, can you hear me?” he yelled, trying to keep the edge of panic from his voice. In his mind’s eye, he saw his son’s broken body, heard him whimper in fear, knew he could be dead. “No!” he yelled, and again his voice came back to him without an answer. He stumbled forward and for the first time in twenty years, he prayed.

  * * *

  “I couldn’t stand it, just sitting in the house waiting to hear so I bundled up the kids and drove over. The car is stuck at the end of the lane. It couldn’t make it up the last hill,” Shelly explained as she walked through the front door, her eyes sweeping the dark interior of the lodge. Amy ran inside followed by her cousins and they made three beelines to the puppy pen.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Ronni admitted. “Now you can take care of the phones. I’ve called most of the teen shelters between here and Portland on Travis’s business line, but none have taken in a boy of Bryan’s description.”

  “He could have stopped by a house or a barn or anywhere,” Shelly said. “Try not to worry.”

  “Impossible, but now that you’re here and can handle the calls—”

  “Me? What about you?”

  “I’m going to join the search.”

  Shelly hazarded a glance to the window, where snow had drifted against the panes. “Wait a minute. Shouldn’t you leave this to the men?”

  As she began gathering her jacket, flares, flashlight and survival gear, Ronni shot her a look that could cut through the base of an old-growth fir tree. With a sound of disgust, she said, “The men need all the help they can get. And I think Beverly Adams, Maude Lindsay and JoAnne Rodgers would be offended if they thought you didn’t think they, as women, were doing a good enough job.”

  “But—”

  “All you have to do is be the information center. When a call comes in, you spread the word. Almost everyone in the groups have walkie-talkies and here’s yours.” She gave her sister quick instructions on how to run the equipment and before Shelly could put up any further protest, Ronni kissed Amy goodbye and was out the door.

  Snapping on a belt, she tested her walkie-talkie and discovered she could hear the other groups of searchers. Much as she didn’t want Travis to know that she’d gone against his wishes, she advised the other searchers of her plans. The only area that hadn’t been covered when Tim’s teams had marked their territory on his maps had been an old logging road, long overgrown, that wound up the lower slopes of the eastern face of the mountain. It was treacherous going, portions of the road had washed or eroded over the past twenty years, but it was the only unsearched spot. No one in his right mind would ride up that old trail, but then, she was dealing with a teenager unaccustomed to the mountains in winter.

  She didn’t think twice about saddling poor Lucy and, starting to ride the old trail. Although she was wearing her ski jumpsuit, goggles and a huge poncho, the wind pierced through her clothes, and her face above her ski mask was raw, but she rode by instinct, urging Lucy through the deep snow, her eyes straining as she looked for any trace of her stepson.

  “Come on, girl, you can make it,” she whispered and the horse kept plodding forward, ever upward, her breath steaming from her nostrils. Ronni brushed the snow from her goggles and tried to call other members of the rescue team on her walkie-talkie again but heard only static. Giving up on the device, she concentrated on her search. “Bryan,” she called, crossing her gloved fingers as she held lightly to the reins. “Bryan?” And then more softly. “Where are you?”

  The road narrowed and dipped but the old bridge that had once spanned the gully had long ago rotted through. Lucy picked her way down one steep slope and over a trickle of water that had iced over, only to slip while trying to climb the opposite side. “You can do it, girl,” Ronni encouraged, squinting hard and searching the snow-covered undergrowth. Berry vines and ferns, brush and saplings were bent with the weight of their wintry blanket.

  They kept plugging on, passing old, abandoned equipment, searching the trees. Once she stopped by an old logging camp that was deserted, the remains of the buildings only wooden skeletons. Bryan wasn’t there.

  By one o’clock, Lucy was breathing hard and Ronni stopped just a few minutes to rest the horse, then mounted her again and started through virgin forests of old growth that had escaped being eaten by the huge saws of the timber industry.

  The afternoon wore on and Ronni’s spirits sank with each of Lucy’s plodding steps. It had been hours. How could he survive? She checked the walkie-talkie again but she couldn’t hear much and what she did pick up suggested that the boy hadn’t yet been found.

  She thought about Travis and Amy and Bryan. If only she could turn back the clock forty-eight hours. Things would be different.

  Lucy struggled to the top of the ridge where the wind was more fierce, the roar deafening. “Bryan?” she yelled and heard no response, but Lucy’s ears pricked forward and she neighed anxiously. “Bryan?” Ronni screamed again, her voice hoarse. “Can you hear me?”

  Lucy snorted and through the curtain of snow, Ronni saw a shape, a dark looming shape. Her heart leaped for a moment when she recognized Sam, her gray stallion. “Bryan, thank God—” Her prayer froze on her lips as the horse trudged through the snow and Ronni realized that his saddle was empty, the reins of his bridle dangling unattended to the ground.

  Her heart plummeted. She’d held out a ray of hope that Bryan would be all right with his surefooted mount. Sam was familiar with these old mountain trails even if his rider wasn’t. But the horse ambled forward riderless and now Bryan, lost somewhere in this frigid wilderness, was completely and utterly alone.

  Dismounting, she snagged Sam’s reins. She’d ride the stallion for a while, giving Lucy a break. “Let’s go,” she said, holding on to two sets of reins and turning Sam around. For as long as she could, she’d follow the trail Sam had broken in the snow. After that, she’d have to rely on luck.

  * * *

  “We’re going to have to call off the search until the storm blows over,” the deputy said over the crackle of static on his walkie-talkie.

  Travis gritted his teeth. “No way. I’m in this until we find Bryan.”

  “I can’t risk these people’s lives. It’s nearly dark and we’re turning back. The storm’s supposed to move north by tomorrow. We’ll resume then.”

  Fear clutched Travis’s heart in a stranglehold and wouldn’t let go. In eight hours he could lose his son. “I’m not coming in. Tell Ronni I’ll be back when I find him.”

  There was a pause on the other end, just the sound of crackling static. “Weren’t you listening? Ronni’s out here,” the deputy finally said. “She called but something’s wrong with her walkie-talkie. It looks like she took off after Bryan, too. Near as we can tell, she’s on horseback. We’re trying to reach her to call her in, but so far she hasn’t responded.”

  His heart nearly clutched. “What?”

  “You heard me. Took off and left her sister here to oversee the phones.”

  “Damn,” Travis growled, his eyes searching the woods, his feet and hands nearly frozen despite his insulated boots and gloves. That hardheaded woman! Her image came to mind, her dark hair, warm brown eyes, smiling full lips. Oh, God, he couldn’t lose her. Frantic, he plowed forward. Somewhere out here, somewhere in this damned wilderness, were his wife and kid. He only hoped
they were still alive.

  * * *

  “Bryan!” Shivering from the cold, Ronni rode as darkness began to creep over the mountains. She had two choices—to keep searching or ride back. She couldn’t stop for any length of time and build an ice cave because the horses wouldn’t survive. She’d followed Sam’s broken trail for over two miles, up a canyon and down a draw to the trickle of a creek flowing sluggishly between icy shores. When the trail had given out, she’d let Sam pick his way, hoping that the horse would understand and locate the boy. So far, it hadn’t worked.

  Be with him, please, keep him safe, she prayed, then squinted. For a second she thought she was seeing things, creating a happy mirage in her mind—a mirage of her stepson propped up against the spreading bows of a fir tree, but as Sam trudged through the drifts, she made out a navy jacket and a body... Swallowing hard, she yelled out. “Bryan? Are you okay?”

  The body moved. She let out her breath. Bryan turned, waved frantically, and her heart soared.

  “Oh, honey,” she cried, jumping from Sam’s broad back and taking the last steps through the snow on her own. “Are you all right?”

  He managed to look sheepish though his teeth were chattering and his face was red from the cold. “Twisted my ankle when Sam spooked and I fell off,” he admitted. “Can’t walk and I was in so much pain, it hurt to ride, so, um, I, uh, stopped to rest and...Sam took off on me.” His lip trembled, either from the cold or some strong emotion. “Guess I’m not much of a cowboy.”

  “That’s not such a crime, is it?”

  He stared down at his hands, his young pride bowed.

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re all right now. We’re going to get you home and warm and safe and...” She saw the doubt in his eyes and took his gloved hand in hers. “I know it’s been rough and that your dad and I have been so wrapped up in each other that we inadvertently left you out, but you have to know that both of us love you so much. Your dad...he’s frantic with worry and...” Rocking back on her heels, she looked him squarely in the eye. “I believe we can work this out—all of us. But if you’re unhappy, if you think that Amy and I don’t belong in your family, well, then maybe something will change.”