A Fall from Yesterday: A Hearts of Harkness Romance (The Standish Clan Book 1)

by Norah Wilson

  So, go on or go back?

  She should have left much earlier in the day, to maximize the available light. Turning back would be the sensible thing to do.

  Except it would also mean giving up. Failing.

  Again.

  She’d go on to White Crow Cliff, but she’d be careful. She would head straight into the forest at right angles and go straight through to Angel Trail. Just a half-mile. Four times around the track out back of Harkness High. She would go slowly, methodically. And she’d get there. No matter what.

  Because she was doing it for both of them.

  And because she could almost hear that giggling whisper of memory—Lacey Douglas’s voice in her ear. I dare you.

  She squared her shoulders, pulled in a deep breath, and stepped off the well-groomed trail.

  Just as she’d anticipated, she felt the temperature difference immediately. Her first instinct was to pick up her pace, get her heart working harder and her blood circulating, but she resisted the urge. She needed to move quickly, but she would use caution, noting landmarks and keep looking back at them for frame of reference, to ensure she kept on the correct course, perpendicular to Yasmine. Sooner or later, she had to emerge on Angel, if she stayed on course.

  Then her phone rang, startlingly loud in the undergrowth. A crow lifted off a high branch, cawing as it flew away. She fumbled for her pocket, pulling the phone out and answering it on the third ring.

  “Ocean?”

  Her mother. Good. Now she could remedy her ill-judged failure to report her whereabouts and her intended route.

  “Hi, Mom. I can’t believe you got through! I’m on Harkness Mountain and I haven’t been able to get a signal since I left the parking lot.”

  “Ocean?”

  “Mom, can you hear me?”

  “Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, I can hear you. I’m on Harkness Mountain, but don’t worry about me. I’m just making my way to Angel Trail. I’m going up as far as White Crow Cliff.” Her mother didn’t need to know she was planning to climb White Crow. “So don’t worry about me, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

  “Ocean? Darling, are you there? I can’t hear you, but I hope you can hear me. I think you’re on the mountain, so just—”

  Silence.

  “Mom? Mom?”

  Nothing but dead air.

  She tried dialing her mother’s number, but there was no reception. Dammit! Her mother would be so worried. Maybe if she backtracked, she’d get a signal again. She retraced her steps. Nothing. She climbed higher, then higher still, then circled around, trying her phone again and again.

  Finally she had to concede that she wasn’t going to get a signal.

  And she had to concede something else. She’d lost track of her last-noted landmark.

  Chapter 3

  TITUS DECLINED the second grilled cheese sandwich. “Thanks, Dad. I’m good.”

  Despite promises made, Arden actually did the cooking, not Titus. Titus had dug out the bread and butter, cut slices from the aged block of cheddar, and put the cast iron skillet on the stove to heat, but Arden and Scott had come in before he’d started production. His father had shooed him away and taken over, which was fine with Titus.

  Ember had put on a pot of coffee for them and brewed a cup of tea for herself. All Titus had to do was sit down and enjoy. But he’d barely managed to choke down the first grilled cheese. Every bite had wanted to stick in his throat.

  His siblings, however, had no trouble ordering up seconds.

  Arden buttered four more slices of market bread, assembled them with thick slabs of cheese, and slapped them into the pan. Minutes later, perfectly browned sandwiches landed on their plates. Their father sat down heavily in his chair.

  “What about you, Dad?” Ember asked. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “Nah, I’m not really hungry.”

  Ember and Scott exchange a quick glance.

  Titus looked at his father at the far end of the table. He sat with his elbows on the checked tablecloth, arms folded in front of him, looking down into his mug of coffee. He looked tired. Maybe a little older.

  Oh hell, he looked as if he’d aged ten years in the last two weeks. The official call this morning hadn’t helped either.

  Titus had a firm date now for the cadet intake, and was going to have to leave well before the end of the month, and there was still so much to be done. His father had clapped him on the back and congratulated him, but he’d seemed to deflate just that little bit more.

  Titus felt a nudge against his thigh. Damn. He’d forgotten to save something for Axl. Eyes cloudy with cataracts and half-deaf, the old dog was looking for a handout.

  “Sorry, Axl.” Out of habit he opened his hands and let him sniff his palm and splayed fingers. “All out.”

  With a chuff of disgust, the old mutt swung his mug toward Scott, tail thumping softly against the floor.

  “So how’s Axl been?” Scott scratched the dog behind his left ear and fed him a crust from his sandwich. The no-dog-at-the-table rule was scrapped whenever Scott was home. They all knew it, including Axl.

  “Getting old,” Titus said. “He still likes to check out the orchard, but these days, we run up there in the truck. It’s too much of a challenge to get there and back on foot with his sore bones.”

  “Are you giving him anything for it?” Ember asked.

  “Fish oil, mostly,” Titus said. “And Metacam when he’s had a particularly hard day.”

  “That mutt is totally spoiled.” At Arden’s words, Axl left Scott and went to sit beside the old man. Despite his gruff assertion, Arden gently stroked the old dog’s still-silky head with a gnarled, arthritic hand. “Gets more Omega 3 pills than I do. And a sardine on top of every meal.”

  “Hey, just say the word and I’ll be happy to plunk a sardine on your oatmeal too,” Titus said.

  Scott guffawed and Ember spewed her tea.

  “Look what you made me do!” She leapt up to get a dishcloth to tidy up the spray. “So, Dad,” she said when she sat down again, “I got your parcel from the pharmacy. Seemed like a pretty big package. Anything we should know about?”

  Titus knew his sister’s fishing-for-information tone when he heard it. Clearly she hadn’t snooped. But now that she mentioned it, that was a pretty fair-sized plastic bag she’d brought in from the Jeep. Titus really hadn’t thought much about it when Arden had sent her on errands, but as far as he knew, all their father ever brought home from Parker & Ward’s was his blood pressure and cholesterol meds, all of which would fit in one of those tiny paper prescription bags.

  “Thanks for picking it up, sweetpea, but it’s not for me.” Arden turned to Titus. “It’s for you.”

  “For me?” Titus shot a glance at Scott, who was clearly dying to bust out a Viagra joke. Or worse, ask if the bag contained something for his “Tight Ass.” That was the trouble with having an unusual name. The worst comeback he’d had for Scott was “Scrote,” but he could never get away with it in the presence of his family. Margaret and Arden Standish wouldn’t stand for foul language, and they’d all respected that rule. Mostly. Even now.

  “To deliver.” Arden clarified. “It’s for some poor guy who pulled up lame while hiking along the river. Apparently he made it to Wayne’s cabin and is holed up there.”

  “Old Man Picard’s fishing camp?” Scott used the more common name for the small log cabin hidden back in the woods off the south bank of the Prince River.

  “That’s the one.” Arden turned his attention to Scott. “I was going to mention it earlier, but then you rolled in and it slipped my mind for a few minutes.”

  Titus glanced at Ember, who sat perfectly still, but listening intently.

  He turned back to his father. “What kind of injury are we talking? Ankle? Knee? Foot? What?” Titus could hear the change in his own tone, the intensity. He took a breath, took it down a notch.

  “Ankle, I understand.”

  He no
dded as he absorbed that, but what he was thinking was, Why didn’t you tell me sooner? The call had to have come in at least forty minutes ago, for Ember to get to town, pick up the stuff at the pharmacy and get back. Factor in the extra time for grilled cheese sandwiches…

  All the search and rescue calls came in on the landline first. If there was no answer, it was set to forward automatically to Titus’s cell. If Titus himself were out on a mission, his father always made a point to stay home so he could field any other calls that might come in on that landline and send someone else out. The O’Donnell boys were usually around, now that tree planting season was over. John and Amanda Dunkle could be counted on most of the time, but they were both getting older, and John was just recovering from pneumonia…

  Titus’s jaw tightened. Dammit. He needed to stop thinking that way, wondering who’d take point on search and rescue when he left Harkness. They’d manage. No one was irreplaceable.

  “Dad, I wouldn’t have sat for lunch had I known someone needed help.”

  Arden raised a hand. “And I wouldn’t have let you sit for lunch if that were the case. This isn’t official search and rescue business. It’s just a favor for Danny Parker. The fellow called the pharmacy looking for a few things, and Danny assured him one of his grandkids could cart it out there to him. They’re rugged kids.”

  “Wait, you mean Joey and Grant?” Scott said. “Aren’t they a little young to send out into the woods?”

  “Not so young anymore,” Titus said. “They graduated from high school last year.” He turned back to Arden. “I take it the boys weren’t available after all?”

  “Exactly.” Arden nodded. “Apparently they took their mother to Maine for a shopping weekend. So he called me to see if you’d mind running the stuff out.”

  “No problem.” Titus nodded at the pharmacy bag on the counter. “What am I mule-packing into the woods?”

  “Some pain meds. A pressure bandage. Some of those gel packs you put in the freezer.” Arden took a sip of coffee. “You know, stuff to treat a sprain.”

  “Who is it?”

  Arden frowned. “I don’t rightly recall. Some guy. Does it matter?”

  “Of course not.” Titus swallowed the last of his coffee. “So, is he planning on staying out there until his ankle is better, or does he want me to help him back to town?” He was already going through the possibilities in his mind. If he were bringing a crippled man in, that was a totally different scenario than a courier drop. He’d need additional gear than what was already in his basic pack.

  “No, he’s not looking for transport.” There was a flicker in the old man’s eyes. “He just needs…a little medical TLC.”

  Ember perked up at that. “If it’s a medical situation, I should go.”

  “Doesn’t sound like the guy needs brain surgery, Re—Ember.”

  Ember aimed a stern look at Scott. “Good save.”

  Despite everything hanging over him, Titus had to work to suppress a grin. His brother had just dodged a sisterly punch in the arm. And she could hit. But Ember going out to the Picard camp? He had to nip this in the bud. “I got it covered, Sis. In fact, I’d better head out—”

  The phone rang and he froze. For a split second, they all did. It was the distinctive ringtone for the search and rescue line. Without a word, Arden pushed back from the table and went around the corner to the living room.

  What now?

  Maybe it was a wrong number. That happened once in a while. Or it could be Oscar Sweet, Arden’s old buddy from the Forces who called often, especially around holidays. The S&R number was the only one Oscar ever remembered.

  Ember leaned toward Titus and whispered, “Is it Dad?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Is that why you called us home, because something’s wrong with Dad?” Her glance moved to Scott, then back to Titus. “It’s his heart, isn’t it?”

  He lowered his voice. “I’m not going to have a whispered conversation across the table while Dad’s in the other room.”

  “You’re whispering now,” Scott said

  Titus sighed.

  “You said you’d tell us after lunch,” Scott pointed out.

  “But now I have a search and rescue mission.”

  “No, you have an errand,” Ember countered. “A favor. You heard Dad. He said it could wait—”

  She broke off at the sound of Arden’s footsteps returning to the kitchen. As he came around the corner, all heads turned toward him. He gave Titus a meaningful nod. “Time to go, Son.”

  “Another errand?” Scott asked.

  “Not this time,” Arden answered.

  Titus stood, his muscles tightening of their own accord. “What’s the situation?”

  “That was Faye Siliker on the phone. She’s worried about her daughter.”

  “Which one?” Ember asked. “River or Ocean?”

  “Ocean.”

  Titus always felt a jolt when he learned he was going out on a mission, the adrenaline rush quickening his pulse and readying him for action. If he was tired, weariness was forgotten when that phone rang.

  At the mention of Ocean Siliker, he felt all this and more.

  He started toward the kitchen closet to retrieve his base pack, which was always ready. “What’s going on with Ocean?”

  “Is she okay, Dad?” Ember asked. “Does she need medical—”

  “No,” he said, waving off Ember’s concern. “Faye thinks she might be lost or apt to get herself into trouble.” He looked at Titus and paused a fraction before he said, “Up on Harkness Mountain. She’s been gone a few hours now, and Faye found an old map of the trail system in her bedroom.”

  Titus felt another jolt, this one zapping him like an electric shock. He felt it throbbing in the tips of his fingers.

  Ember stood. “Looks like I’m going to the Picard camp after all.”

  Titus’s attention snapped back to her. “Not likely. Scott can—”

  “Scott can what?” She planted her fists on her hips. “If you dare tell me Scott should go because he’s a man, I swear you’d better sleep with your eyes open from now on.”

  “Come on, Ember. Be reasonable. I don’t have time to argue.”

  “Good. Neither do I. I’m a doctor, and this is a medical situation. Like it or not, I’m better qualified than Scott to handle this. I’m fit. I can take care of myself. I can definitely find my way; I’ve hiked up there before.”

  Titus exchanged a look with Scott—a definite plea for help.

  “Titus is right.” Scott spoke as if that settled the matter, which was like raving a red flag in front of Ember. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

  “It’s not a vote, guys.” She grabbed the pharmacy bag and looked at Scott as if daring him to try to take it from her. “I can render medical assistance to this guy. Make sure it’s just a sprain, wrap the ankle.”

  Axl whined.

  Titus saw where this was going. Absolutely nowhere. It was true Scott didn’t have as thorough a command of first aid as Titus did, and neither of them could hold a candle to Ember. But this was supposed to be a delivery mission. And he didn’t like the idea of his baby sister hiking miles along the river by herself to help some poor bastard. Some male bastard.

  Well, there was one way to settle this. Ember might not listen to her brothers, but she would listen to her father. Arden would side with him and Scott. Titus looked at his father.

  “Dad, you make the call. Scott or Ember?”

  Again, all three of them turned to Arden.

  Arden looked back at them, his gaze moving over each of their faces.

  What was he waiting for? “Dad?”

  Arden strode the few steps to the table, grabbed his coffee mug, and with his mouth half hidden behind the rim, he said, “I think Ember, should go.” He took a drink.

  What the hell?

  Arden put his mug down. “You underestimate your sister, Titus,” he said quietly. “She can do this.”
r />   Ember shot Titus a so there look.

  Scott looked just as taken aback as Titus felt, but he hadn’t a thing to say either.

  “Fine.” Titus knew when he was beat. He strode to the pantry off the kitchen where he kept his hiking rations and started stuffing things into his rucksack. “Got your hiking boots with you, Em?” he called over his shoulder.

  “You know it.”

  The Prince River ran along the west side of Harkness Mountain. The parking lot that served the mountain provided the best access to Old Man Picard’s camp. There was another access from further downriver that would land her a little closer, but the woods road she would have to follow sucked. Even in their father’s Jeep, it would be a challenge.

  He emerged from the pantry. “So we’ll travel together to the foot of the mountain?”

  She nodded. “It’s the route I know best anyway.”

  “Good.”

  “What about me?” Scott said. “Need some help searching for Ocean?”

  Titus shook his head. “No, but would you mind hanging around the parking lot in case either of us needs backup?” By which he meant in case Ember needed backup, but unless he wanted to re-engage, he knew to keep his mouth shut.

  “Or just a ride back home,” Ember put in. “If I come out of the woods first, I don’t want to be stuck out there without wheels.”

  “Love to do it.” Scott’s tone was agreeable, but Titus knew he’d hate the inactivity.

  “Everyone got a phone?” Arden asked.

  “Cellular still work from the parking lot?” Scott asked.

  “Yeah. It’s just when you get in the shadow of the mountain that you need satellite.”

  “Then I’m okay,” he said.