Where Trains Collide

by Amber Stokes

  It wasn’t until the sun had sunk below the sea and Samantha had burrowed beneath the covers of the big bed with her iPod that Trisha found her chance to explore on her own. She grabbed her coat, wrapped her scarf around her neck, and reached for the provided flashlight on the dresser.

  Samantha removed one of her earbuds and paused whatever she had been listening to. “Where are you headed?”

  “I thought I’d hike up to the lighthouse. I really want to see it at night.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Samantha pushed back the comforter. “I can change out of my pajamas or just throw on a jacket. No one’s going to care.” She grinned like a sneaky child.

  Trisha couldn’t help but grin in return. “You’re sweet to offer, but I’m really okay. I’d kind of like some alone time.” She grimaced at the sound of her words and added, “Not that I don’t want to be with you or—”

  Samantha laughed. “No worries. I get it. The ocean has a way of making people introspective.” She pulled the covers snug around her again. “Besides, I’m at an exciting part in this audiobook, so I’m happy to stay here and watch the lighthouse through the window.”

  Trisha turned toward the door, then glanced over her shoulder at her brother’s girlfriend, snuggled beneath the sheets in the comfy bed. Samantha seemed so comfortable—not just in the moment, but with herself. And she was the kindest girl Trisha had ever met. Unexpected tears stung her nose and eyes, and she smiled at Samantha. “I’m so glad Derrick found you.”

  Samantha blushed, a hint of hidden joy in her eyes. “Me too. Be safe out there.”

  “I will.”

  Trisha headed down the narrow steps, waved to one of the other guests cooking something on the stovetop in the kitchen, and slipped out the side door.

  As she headed away from the cozy light emanating from the windows of the B and B, she turned on the flashlight she’d borrowed, illuminating the path to the back gate. Once she got to the main trail twisting up toward the lighthouse, she found herself grateful for the solitary beam of light she held. The dirt and gravel path curved into the woods, and the trees blocked the view of her destination.

  For the first time since she’d embarked on this trip, she was completely alone. No crowds, no strangers, no ex-boyfriends. Just the deep shadows of the trees and the faint thunder of waves beating tirelessly against the shore.

  Trisha found herself hurrying, eager to step out of the darkness. And finally, after a brief uphill trek, she came face to face with Heceta Head Lighthouse.

  Her heart warmed at the awe-inspiring sight of multiple beams dependably, consistently rotating from the shining glass at the top of the tower. The white light pierced the night as it reached across the ocean below.

  The childhood scariness of the dark woods faded away behind this grandeur, stars settling over the scene as if born of or drawn to the vivid, rotating glow on the bluff. The lights of a boat out at sea completed the picture—someone likely finding the lighthouse more than pretty, but a true comfort and guide.

  Trisha smiled as the wind played with her unbound hair and ushered a few clouds across the sliver of moon. Stepping to the fence at the edge of the cliff, she rested her elbows on top of it. Songs rose to her lips, and after glancing around, she let a few tremulous notes escape. Her voice barely penetrated the rush of sea and wind and silence.

  Feeling brave in her solitude, she sang a bit louder, a hymn she hadn’t heard in years but remembered word for word. It felt right to sing it here, now. But when she concluded the last verse, tears flooded her eyes.

  “I’m lost, God,” she whispered, her voice somehow seeming louder in her ears. “I don’t want to go back to school. I have no idea what to do with this life you’ve given me. And…” She glanced up at the stars, not bothering to blink away the tears. “I don’t want to leave Paul. I’m not ready to say goodbye again. Please don’t make me.” She bit her lip, the wind whisking away the moisture from her eyes, but no answer descending to her heart.

  She sniffed, wiping a finger beneath her nose, and began another hymn. With fingers clasped together and eyes fastened to the horizon, she sang. The beams of the lighthouse continued to sweep over her, never slowing or blinking out. As she began the last verse, the scuff of gravel sliding startled her. She gasped, whirling around.

  Paul. He stood at the entrance to the woods, his eyes unreadable in the darkness.

  She didn’t know what to do. Her face burned as she thought about how she had sung with abandon, convinced she was alone. Leaning back against the fence, she watched Paul approach and crossed her arms over her chest, shivering.

  He didn’t stop until he stood right next to her, his elbows on the fence and his gaze upon the crashing waves below. Trisha looked down at the grass and gravel, waiting.

  “I’m sorry for disrupting you,” he began, his words deeper than the distant rumble of the sea. “I would’ve turned around and given you some privacy, but you must have heard me before I could escape.” Trisha sensed a soft grin in his tone, and her heart ceased its racing.

  “It’s all right.” Something—her conscience, maybe—tugged at her, and she added, “I’m sorry if I disrupted your quiet time too.”

  “No worries.” His breath came out in one big release, like something broke off inside him. “I couldn’t resist the thought of seeing the lighthouse at night. It’s really something.”

  She nodded in agreement, her gaze following a beam of light as it caressed the hill behind the building and the sharp branches of the trees.

  They stood together in silence, and Paul turned to take in the view of the lighthouse. Trisha’s thoughts returned to her unsolved problems, things she had hoped would be resolved in her head by now. But she couldn’t dwell on them long, as her heart warmed in remembrance of the peace she’d been enjoying in the songs and sights, as if God had been gently feeding her soul tonight. That image took away the sting of uncertainty, made it seem small like a bee’s sting—no longer the crushing weight of the future.

  In that peaceful frame of mind, her thoughts moved on to the man next to her. She wondered how Paul was doing after all she had put him through this day. After all the months and even years of silence between them. Was he happy? Was his life good beyond this strange moment in time when she had suddenly stepped back into his world?

  “Paul?” Once again her voice was quiet, barely rising above the brisk wind.

  “Yeah?” He kept his focus on the tower, but she knew he was listening.

  She wasn’t sure what to ask him first. Do you like living in Oregon? How’s your job going? But the question she actually spoke aloud was much different. “Are you okay? Not just with this crazy situation, but…you know…in general?”

  She watched his chest rise and fall like the tide. He glanced over at her. “Funny you should ask.” Pain turned his hazelnut eyes into a glossy, stoic wood surface. “I thought I was okay. Work is fine. I like talking with patients, getting to hear their stories and helping take care of them so they won’t have bigger problems down the road. And I get paid well. I’ve made friends here, found a community, even a church… But I’ve felt haunted, like I left something undone. I think it’s because I ran from you and your future.”

  Trisha’s breath halted in her throat, stuck behind the lump that grew there.

  His gaze shone like a polished tabletop, inviting. “I don’t know if I would have done things differently if I could. I was scared about your indecisiveness, even your intelligence and how far it might take you. I didn’t like how uncertain things felt. I let fear lead me, not love. I should have made a decision motivated by love, either way.”

  Trisha swallowed, wincing at the difficulty of the action. The remorse in Paul’s tone hit her in the chest. For a moment, she didn’t dwell on the sadness and hurt she’d clung to for so long. Instead, she thought of her boyfriend, the man she had hoped to marry, carrying a burden that was keeping him from fully embracing his own life. A burden weighing him down,
putting tears in her strong lumberjack’s eyes. As much as he was a man then and now, he was also a boy who had caved to fears and even, perhaps, selfishness and didn’t know how to make it right.

  She knew all about fears and selfishness. Wasn’t that why she’d run from school with no plan and no thought to how her choice might affect others like Samantha?

  But Samantha had been gracious. An incredible friend and likely soon to be a sister. And Paul…he hadn’t run away this time, despite her obvious resentment.

  Trisha shook her head, feeling like all of this was a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve yet. But seeing the cut of the pieces more clearly and getting a glimpse at the big picture eased the franticness inside. She studied Paul’s face, the eyelids she had once kissed, the nose she had once caressed with her own as she’d giggled and he’d chuckled low and sweet. She loved him. And she didn’t want him to be burdened anymore.

  “I forgive you, Paul. I’m so sorry I never said it before. I’m sorry for being angry for so long. I don’t want to be angry anymore, no matter what happens after this trip. I just want you to be at peace.” She surprised herself and likely Paul, too, by smiling, vision blurry but filled with warmth. It felt right to say these things. And for some strange reason, the words made her feel bold despite all she didn’t yet know.

  Paul blew out a big breath that was carried away by the wind. His shoulders lowered all at once, and he smiled lightly in return. “Thank you. You’ll never know what that means to me.” He reached out a hand between them, letting it hover near her arm. She slowly met his fingers with hers, and they held hands in the bright, sweeping beam of the lighthouse a moment longer before walking back to the B and B.

  Chapter 7

  Trisha woke to the clatter of Samantha’s hairbrush being dropped on the dresser and the underlying roar of the ocean drifting in through the slightly open window along with a cool morning breeze. She shivered and sat up, rubbing her eyes, unable to keep back a groan. “What time is it?”

  “About 7:30,” Samantha replied as she pinned back some of her blonde hair with a starfish pin.

  “That’s cute,” Trisha said as she peeled back the sheets and set her feet on the cold floor.

  “Really? Thanks!” Samantha tossed her hair and grinned at Trisha’s reflection in the mirror above the dresser. “Don’t forget that breakfast will be served soon. I can’t wait to see what they offer.”

  Trisha yawned. A secret smile rose to her lips as she thought of the previous night, the lighthouse beams rotating beneath the starry sky and Paul’s big, gentle fingers intertwined with hers as he led the way back to the B and B. The thought of seeing Paul downstairs at the big dining table finally compelled her to stand and get ready for the day—her last day in Oregon. If only this trip weren’t so short, she lamented in her heart. Who knows what might have been if we had more time together?

  But they did have this lovely Saturday morning. Perhaps longer, if he would take her back to the train station in Eugene. As she gathered her toiletries and shuffled to the bathroom across the hall, she pondered Paul’s response and whether or not it would be an unkind request on her part to ask for another ride.

  Twenty minutes later, she and Samantha headed down the stairs, joined by a middle-aged couple who appeared in their room’s doorway just as the two of them had stepped into the hall. They chatted with the couple, exchanging names and saying where they were from.

  When they entered the dining room, a young family and another couple were already seated at the table covered in a white lace tablecloth. Trisha smiled at the group as she pulled out a chair near the far end, which afforded a view into the sitting room with the fireplace—the open area at the bottom of the stairs leading to the other set of rooms where Derrick and Paul had stayed.

  She made conversation with the little girl sitting across from her for a few minutes. They were talking about pets and whether dogs were better than cats when she glanced up to see Paul and Derrick stepping into the dining room, silhouetted by the morning light brightening the windows behind them. Paul stood a bit taller than her brother. She listened to the young girl’s chatter, but her eyes kept flicking to Paul as he chose the seat at the end of the table, right next to her. She gave him a shy smile, and Derrick tugged a piece of her hair on his way to the empty chair beside Samantha.

  With the table now full, the staff entered the dining room to offer drinks and announce the first course of fruit and sweet bread. As the food was passed around, Trisha kept stealing glances at Paul, unable to help herself. At one point, he caught her glance, and a slow smile swept over his mouth, his warm hazelnut gaze melting. She blushed in response and turned her attention to the berry-filled bread on her plate.

  When the next course turned out to be crab cakes, Trisha wondered if she’d be able to handle seafood so early in the morning. But one bite proved she had nothing to worry about. Better than sausage or bacon, although she wouldn’t be surprised if one or the other came in a later course.

  She heard Paul chuckle as she greedily dug into the crab meat. When she was absolutely sure the little girl across from her wasn’t paying attention, she stuck out her tongue at Paul. It felt childish—and certainly wouldn’t be a good example to someone’s young daughter—but Paul’s renewed chuckles were worth the blush that filled her cheeks with heat.

  After a tasty frappe, more food arrived—an egg dish, the expected sausage, and even a dessert tart before the final course of fruit and cheese. Conversation was woven in between servings, and Trisha spent half her time talking with Samantha about the wedding she and Derrick would be attending that afternoon and the other half watching Paul as he asked the little girl about school and her favorite things to do. He was patient, and when the girl was busy chatting to her mom, he didn’t seem to mind the relative quiet on their side of the table as he took generous servings of every dish and ate with gusto.

  When breakfast concluded, everyone stood and parted ways almost reluctantly as couples and groups broke off to discuss plans for the day and return to their rooms. Trisha and Paul left the table last and paused where the dining room branched off.

  “So, what’s your plan?” Paul asked, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.

  “Well, if it’s not too much trouble, would you mind giving me a ride back to Eugene? The train leaves this evening, and if I want to be back to school on Monday, I can’t miss it.” When Paul didn’t meet her gaze right away, she added, “But it’s all right if you can’t take me. I could call a taxi or something.”

  He finally looked at her, a little smirk tilting his lips. “Don’t be silly, Babe. Of course I’ll give you a ride. Seems like an awfully short trip, though.”

  She sighed and scuffed the tip of her tennis shoe on the floor. “I know. I shouldn’t have come at all, but I felt like I had to.”

  “Are you glad you did?” There was something almost vulnerable in the depths of his tone, and he rocked back once on his heels.

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “I wish I hadn’t inconvenienced you and Samantha and Derrick, but…it was good to see you all and to enjoy a bit of time on the coast.”

  “All of us?” One eyebrow shot higher on his forehead.

  Trisha grinned. “Yes, even you.”

  Was it dangerous to flirt in this way? They had reconciled, but it didn’t mean they were back together. She didn’t necessarily have a reason to hope, but she hoped anyway. It gave her courage to return to her room, pack her things, and prepare to say goodbye to her brother and Samantha.

  ***

  “Are you up for a quick hike?”

  Paul had been driving for about half an hour or so, and they were passing what appeared to be a tiny town on their way back to Eugene.

  “Of course,” Trisha agreed. They had plenty of time before she had to meet the train—too much or too little, she couldn’t quite determine. She and Paul hadn’t spoken much since leaving the B and B, the graceful strumming of Jack Johnson filling the silence in the ca
r.

  “You can’t end your trip without something to blog about, right?”

  Trisha blinked, heart racing as she turned to study Paul. “You know about my blog?” She had created Where the Redwoods Lead after their breakup, something to link her to home while she was away at college and take her mind off Paul. Which was utterly ridiculous, because if anything, going on hikes and writing about her favorite places in nature only reminded her of her lumberjack and their dates.

  He dipped his head in acknowledgment and reached out to turn down the volume of the music. “I like the way you describe your hikes. You make each one sound like an epic adventure.”

  She blushed. “I haven’t had a chance to blog much lately…or even go outside to get inspired. I’ve missed it.”

  “Well then, we definitely can’t let you leave without taking you somewhere.” He flipped on the turn signal and headed right, away from the main highway. “I’m going to show you Sweet Creek Falls.”

  The rest of the morning was a blur of past joys and new beginnings. The trail was everything Trisha could have hoped for. While she wished it were still October and the leaves were brighter shades of gold and orange, she delighted in the damp brown and amber leaves lining the path like familiar friends saying “hello” and “goodbye” all at once. Waterfall after waterfall—some a mere rippling over rocks and other streaming down a steeper drop—appeared one after the other. It made her glad in ways she couldn’t express but must have been obvious in her smile. She couldn’t remember seeing Paul grin so much, either.

  At one point, they found a tree that must have turned later than many of the others, as its leaves were still bright, embracing the changing season. Paul gathered a few that hadn’t gotten too wet from rain or the spray of falling water and presented them to her with a flourish, bowing his head and bending at the waist. She laughed and accepted them, carrying the autumn bouquet all the way back to the car.