Pathways (9780307822208)

by Bergren, Lisa T.

  “What does that mean?”

  “What does what mean?”

  “Your oh. You always say that word when you want to say more but are holding back.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” He caught himself and they both smiled.

  “You asked where my dad was this year, Eli.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. My dad got a postcard from your father. From Peru.”

  Bryn sighed. “Did Ben know?”

  “No.” He seemed curious about her question. “So, what did you and Ben talk about?” he prompted.

  “My dad, for one.” Just saying that much out loud left her feeling vulnerable.

  “I’m sorry, Bryn. It’s gotta hurt, to have your folks break up.”

  “Yes.” She rose, lifted the lid on the pan and fiddled with the fish, suddenly wanting something to do. “Maybe it’s the plight of only children, huh? It becomes all the more important that your family stick together, however miserable they might be.”

  Eli shook his head a little. “Can’t speak to that. My parents, thankfully, have always gotten along.”

  Bryn nodded. Ben would probably tell her it had to do with their faith.

  “You missing him?” Eli asked softly.

  “Yes,” she said, pushing against the sudden ache in her throat. She tried to stop the tears, but it was too much. The day, the week, being here … She couldn’t fight the tears anymore and broke down, hating being weak and blubbering in front of Eli.

  She could hear him moving toward her. “You shouldn’t—,” she said.

  “Shh.” He gathered her in his arms. He smelled of wood smoke and leather and something faintly spicy. She cried then, relaxing into his embrace, making his shirt wet from her tears. It felt good to be held, to be cared for, and his chest was solid, his arms around her so strong. She felt safe and warm.

  “Bryn,” he said.

  “Wh-what?” She looked up at him, suddenly longing for him to kiss her, to make her forget her inner pain.

  He leaned back, his arms pulling away. “The fish. I think they’re burning.”

  “Oh!” She grabbed the pan from the burner and raised the lid. “They were going to be so perfect!” He didn’t respond but instead moved to her side, his eyes upon her. More cautious now at exposing herself, she couldn’t bear to look back at him, to offer her lips to him again and have him pull away as he had before.

  “They’ll be fine,” he said soothingly. He wiped a remaining tear from her cheek and tenderly tucked her hair behind her ear. “They’ll be just fine, Bryn.”

  Bryn helped Eli move to his own cabin the next day, and from there he radioed his office to tell his assistant it would be a few more days before he could leave Summit. Bryn carefully avoided his eyes as he talked over the CB, probably so he wouldn’t see her look of confusion or hurt or sorrow at the mention of his departure, Eli guessed. Quietly he asked his assistant, Jamie, to call Sara Cussler and tell her he’d be phoning within the week. Then he signed

  “She won’t like it, your being here,” Bryn said, folding back the blanket on his bed.

  “Why not?” He knew. He wanted to see if she would verbalize it.

  She finally met his eyes, and her lost-little-girl look threatened to take him to his knees, make him apologize, and hold and kiss her until those brown eyes sparkled with the knowledge of joy and peace. Bryn Skye Bailey moved him as no other woman had in his entire life. Why oh why did she have to be so lost? She had to find herself before they would ever have a chance. And coming across her again, when he’d finally stopped dreaming about her at night, when he’d finally met a nice, sweet girl like Sara, was a cruel coincidence.

  There is no such thing as coincidence, Ben always told him. Only divine appointment. But Eli was having a hard time believing that this was a God thing. His Lord was loving and full of grace and peace and joy. What Eli felt for Bryn was torturous, like a bed of nails.

  “You know why she won’t like it, Eli,” she said, fluffing a pillow.

  “Quit. Quit with the bed, Bryn. I’m not going to bed,” he said, grabbing her arm. “I’m back here because we both know I can take care of myself.”

  “Well, what are you going to do with yourself?” Gently she pulled away from him.

  “You don’t want to stay for the afternoon?” he asked carefully. “Keep me company?”

  “No. I think we need some time apart now. You have your own books here. I need to get back to my fireplace project. Ben’s coming over this afternoon to help me cut the hole and build the frame for the arch.”

  “Okay. Just keep that pepper spray ready in your pocket if you go looking for more river rock.”

  “Now that, you can be sure I’ll do,” she agreed, finally smiling up at him. “Good-bye, Eli.”

  “Good-bye, Doc. Thanks for your help.”

  She turned, her eyes bright with tears again. The smile slid from his face as she approached, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him on the lower cheek. “Thanks for saving me from that bear,” she whispered, pushing a grin through her tears. And then she turned and walked out, leaving him feeling as cold and bereft as an orphan on the streets at midnight.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Bryn read the whole book of Romans that week. While some of the words were hard to believe, she found herself drawn more and more to them. They spoke of grace and of a God who cared deeply, intimately, about his creation. The words soothed her, helped her begin to see a hint of God’s forgiveness, not only for herself but also for her father. Yet while the words moved her, she longed for some tangible evidence that what she read was true. Perhaps it was the scientist in her wanting everything orderly. But this faith business seemed anything but orderly.

  She visited Eli every afternoon to check on his progress, but she was relieved when she saw the de Havilland take off without a formal good-bye from Eli. She knew he would be back. Right now, she needed to be alone. The dizzying attraction was too intense when they were together, too great to deny when she was alone. She was on the precipice of something big, and she needed to find it on her own, with a clear mind.

  Her therapist would say all her woes stemmed from her mother—needy and dysfunctional apparently. That was all fine and good, but Bryn was ready to move on, not wallow in the past.

  Bryn followed a path that Ben had pointed out to her beyond the cabin. The path led into the high country and, after a couple of miles, the Alaska Range. In awe, she squinted against the bright white of the High One and her sisters. The snowy fields and glaciers were blue white, like an old woman’s hair, and where the shadows deepened, the snow changed to a blue as royal as in the American flag. Bryn uncapped her canteen and drank deeply, appreciating the vista and the solitude.

  She thought about her life. She was a competent doctor, she supposed. Bryn Skye Bailey was pretty competent at everything she did. But would doctoring make her happy? Ben’s words—“Happiness is not something you get to. Those who are happy enjoy the getting-to-it-ness of life itself”—returned to her. Being up here, alone, happy with herself, felt right. She was embracing what Summit Lake could give her this summer, not concentrating on what it couldn’t. Like Eli. She felt a twinge in her belly as she acknowledged that in every direction she turned she encountered a beauty that maybe one in a thousand people would ever see. She counted it a blessing.

  Blessing. A word Ben would use.

  She thought about her father, who had come too, perhaps seeking the same thing she now sought. Maybe he had even asked Ben and Jedidiah similar questions. But her father was in Peru, or maybe Ecuador or Colombia by now, traveling with his fiancée through Central America. They planned to marry when they reached Mexico. Bryn wouldn’t attend.

  Her father certainly seemed to be wandering, searching for something, even after all these years. Maybe he thought he’d discover it by traveling the world, or with Ashley, the proverbial younger woman. Perhaps going through t
he process of having another child when he was in the latter half of his life would give him a piece of eternity, a vital piece of life, that he was missing. She doubted it. All his searching just led to more searching—what was the point of that? She looked back to the majestic, powerful mountains. Perhaps Ben was right. Perhaps Alaska did hold the answers for her, if only she would be quiet enough to hear God’s whisper.

  The thought surprised her. Just when had she started listening for God? Longing to hear his voice?

  “Sara, I—”

  “Look, Eli,” she turned around, staring at his crutches. “I get that you were hurt, that you had to stay put for a while. But it was with her. With Bryn.”

  “Nothing happened,” he said, hating the high, defensive tone his voice had taken.

  “Didn’t it?” She raised a brow.

  She stared at him until he looked down at his foot. “You were out on a rafting trip. I didn’t think you would worry.”

  She nodded knowingly, then switched to shake her head. “You don’t owe me anything, Eli Pierce. We started something. I’m just glad we both found out before it went too far.”

  “Found what out?”

  “That you’re in love with Bryn.”

  “I’m not! I was once. I’ll admit it.” She didn’t respond, just stared at him with her deep blue eyes. “Sara, it’s over between Bryn and me, not that anything ever really started. We’re friends, that’s it. We’re too different, on two separate paths—”

  “That keep intersecting.”

  “Yes, but she’s not a believer. You know how important that is to me.”

  Sara sighed and laid a hand on his chest. “Eli. You don’t have to convince me. You have to convince yourself. When you can do that, come back around. You’re an honest man; I’ll trust you. Until then”—she lowered her forehead, looking at him from the top of her eyes—“stay away. Please.”

  He grabbed her hand, wanting to hold her there.

  Her eyes softened. “Please,” she repeated, pulling at her hand slowly as if she wanted to give him another chance.

  He released her. “I’ll be back around, Sara,” he promised. He settled the airman’s cap on his head again, determined to do right by her. Convince himself, as she said, then come back and convince her. She was too good, and what they had was too special, for him to mess up. He just had to get Bryn out of his head, as Sara was asking him to do. It was only fair to Sara. And to himself. In the meantime, he hoped Sara wouldn’t slip away forever.

  “I won’t be waiting, Eli,” she warned, then turned and walked away.

  A week after Eli had left, Bryn shared a bonfire on the beach with Ben. She had shown him the progress she had made on the fireplace, and he was going to help her with the tricky process of cutting away the wall without hurting the structure.

  “I need more mortar,” she said, watching as sparks flew upward and dissolved into the inky black sky. She remembered that her father once told her that they went all the way to heaven and became stars like those that carpeted the darkness at night. “I’ve already gone through the Quick Crete you gave me. Can you ask Eli to bring you some the next time he flies in supplies? I could also use a pound of cornmeal and sugar. And a pepperoni pizza. I don’t care if it’s cold.”

  “Sure. Don’t want to radio him yourself?”

  “Nah. It’s better this way, us remaining apart. When we’re together, we can’t seem to be anything other than together.”

  Ben nodded and sat quietly. He poked the fire, sending even more sparks toward Cassiopeia. It was a glorious night. What was it about this place? It seemed to reach out to her. She recalled her time on top of the mountain, and her sense that God was trying to speak to her. “When did you become a Christian, Ben?”

  “Korea, 1952. Nothing like being pinned down by sniper fire, your buddy dead beside you, to make you take a good, long, hard look at yourself and the ever after.”

  “I didn’t know you went to Korea.”

  “Yeah. I’m a few years older than your dad and Jedidiah.”

  “Why didn’t you ever marry?”

  “Not a ton of women who are ready to live in the bush.”

  “Would you have lived closer to town, in Talkeetna, for the right one?”

  “I suppose,” he said, grinning over at her, the dancing light of the fire bouncing along his face. “If it had been the right woman. But I don’t meet a lot of good women out here. I guess I could always start reading the personal ads.” He chuckled.

  Bryn smiled.

  “I don’t suppose a pretty girl like you has ever looked over those ads.”

  “Oh, I have. Two or three times. When I’m especially lonely.”

  “What kind of ad would’ve made you pick up the phone or e-mail or whatever you kids do to contact each other these days?”

  Bryn thought about it, took a sip of her cocoa. “Tall, handsome, single pilot with a yen for the outdoors seeks brunette to share camaraderie and quiet kisses.” She blushed, and Ben laughed softly. He reminded Bryn so much of Grampa Bruce before his memory started fading that she found herself sharing the most intimate of thoughts.

  “Ah, love. You two are like unbound lobsters in a butcher’s fish tank.”

  “What happens when they’re unbound?”

  “They rip each other to shreds. Don’t mean to, of course. It’s just their way.”

  “That’s a pleasant thought.”

  “Sorry. The funny thing is, when lobsters are in the ocean, where they’re supposed to be, it doesn’t play out like that. I mean, at least not for the males and females.”

  “So you’re saying that if Eli and I were someplace different, we wouldn’t be killing each other. We could be mates?”

  “It’s not Summit that’s tearing you apart, Bryn,” he said gently. “It’s where you are, here,” he said, motioning toward his heart.

  Bryn sighed again. She seemed to do a lot of that, sighing. “I know, Ben. I know. But I’m getting there.”

  Eli flew to Summit Lake on his monthly supply run for Ben. He knew he had to see Bryn, see how she was doing, show her how well his leg was healing. Ben had radioed in for a pepperoni pizza—a rather unusual request—and some additional supplies beyond his typical order. Eli knew they were for Bryn. He also knew Ben would ask him to deliver them. He landed on the choppy, silver lake and expertly beached the de Havilland on Ben’s shore.

  Eli watched as Ben came out of his cabin, waving and ambling down the stairs to help unload. Eli jumped out of the plane, leaned back inside the fuselage, and pulled out the pizza. “Haven’t known you to ever have a hankerin’ for pepperoni.”

  “Pshaw,” the man retorted, turning half away and waving a hand. “Not for me. Gastritis city. You know as well as I it’s for the pretty girl down the lake.”

  “You’ll have to take it to her,” Eli said. “I can’t see her. It’s not good for us, Ben.”

  “No,” he said. He studied Eli as if he was a wounded bear that he needed to treat. “It might hurt a little bit, but it will all be worthwhile. Maybe not this summer. But down the road. You’ll see.”

  Eli sighed and tossed the cold pizza back in and grabbed a crate instead. He raised an eyebrow as he passed the shorter man. “Don’t go matchmaking, Ben,” he warned. “We’ve tried. It’s not going to work.”

  “Maybe,” the man said, taking another box and following behind.

  “She’s not a believer,” Eli said, huffing a little as he climbed the steps.

  “Yet.”

  “She lives in Boston.”

  “Right now.”

  Eli reached the porch and set the crate on the railing, turning to look at Ben. “You know somethin’ I don’t?”

  Ben stared at him, set his box on the rail, and looked out at the lake. “Don’t know anything really. Just a feelin’ I’ve got. Always had it around the two of you.”

  “We always get that feeling too,” Eli said, going inside. “And it always sets us on the road to heartache
.” He put Ben’s supplies down on the kitchen table, and Ben did the same.

  “Sometimes,” Ben said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Heartache leads to ultimate healing. The girl wants what you have, Eli.”

  Eli glanced at him.

  “Yes. Inside. She wants to know the Lord. She’s on her way. But sometimes it takes an awful lot of pain to tear down the walls. Take me for example.” He moved back to the porch door to go and grab another load. Eli followed, stooping to pet a lone cub in the pen in Ben’s living room. “I’d been listening to the platoon parson ramble on about Jesus for a good seven months. Had to be in a Korean swamp, bullets singing by my ears, my buddy dying in my arms, before I was ready to walk with him.”

  “So who’s going to die for Bryn to see the light? Me?”

  Ben raised a brow, his eyes twinkling. “Hope not. Like to see you two married. A few little cubs of your own.”

  Eli laughed and shook his head, following Ben down the stairs. “That, my friend, is about as likely as the northern lights appearing at midday.”

  Bryn hauled more rock inside, sweating from the labor. She was almost to the ceiling. With a little more mortar, she’d reach the top, and all her work would then be outside, where the mosquitoes would do their best to eat her alive.

  “Not much use living anywhere a mosquito wouldn’t even choose to live,” Ben had defended. He had helped her cut away the logs and build the flue form, as well as the arch support, which still remained. It would be there until she was done, and then she’d know for sure if the project was a success. If it all comes crashing down … She shuddered at the thought. Not after all that work! She still had the outside of the chimney to complete. It would take some work—she only had a few weeks left at the lake. But she felt certain she could do it.

  She stood back and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Dad would be proud. He’d love the real fireplace. It gave the cabin a snug feel, and being able to see it complete, with a fire crackling inside, made her feel just a bit closer to him. She imagined the mantel where she’d built a support form. She moved her hand to shoulder height. She would place her treasures on it—that plaster casting of the wolf print she’d taken, the driftwood “sculptures” she’d collected from shore, the various items she’d found over the summer.