Thanksgiving Groom

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Thanksgiving Groom Page 8

by Brenda Minton


  Tucker nodded, but he wasn’t so sure. He watched Penelope rub her ankle through the heavy boots she wore.

  “What if I go on alone?” He turned back to Clark and the older man was already shaking his head.

  “Not a good idea. You know as well as I do that sticking together keeps us safer and stronger. Think about headlines you’ve read. Someone always ends up hurt when people split up.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I don’t know how much longer she can walk on that ankle.”

  “I know. But it’s possible that we’re just a few hours from the village.”

  “Okay, we’ll break here and in thirty we’re moving on.”

  Penelope had left the log and was heading toward them at a slow, hobbling pace. “Clark, I’m new at this faith business, but something has really been on my mind.”

  “What’s that, Penny?”

  Tucker shot her a look. Just a few days ago she’d told him not to call her that. She didn’t say a word to Clark, instead she smiled brightly and went on.

  “We haven’t prayed. I mean, I guess it’s a given that God will take care of us, but…”

  “Stop pushing, Penelope.” Tucker glanced from her to the older man. She might not be willing to give people a break, but Clark and Wilma deserved one. And Penelope Lear probably hadn’t gone through one tough thing in her life.

  “Sometimes people need to be pushed, Tucker.” Clark cleared his throat. “Sometimes we need to be reminded. I’ve spent the last few months looking for God, and ignoring Him every chance I got.”

  Tucker started to walk away, but Penelope Lear reached for his hand. Chipped fingernail polish was about the only remnant of her old life. Out here in the wilderness she was just as lost, just as cold as the rest of them.

  She led him back to Wilma and the four of them joined in a circle. Tucker bowed his head, but as Clark prayed for direction, for health, for peace, Tucker thought about his dad, about a girl he’d never met, and about how his life had taken one big, wrong turn.

  Amen.

  It was dark and cold and it was only five in the afternoon. Penelope leaned on the walking stick and wished it actually helped. For a while it had. Now it seemed to take more energy to use it. And her hands were numb from cold.

  She couldn’t think of any more songs to sing.

  She’d never wanted to be home more than she did at that moment. It hit suddenly—homesickness, wishing she could talk to her mom, and hoping they weren’t worried sick. She hadn’t meant to worry them.

  “In the mountains we can build an igloo…” Tucker moved next to her. His voice was soft and held a hint of laughter. “Come on, Pollyanna, cheer up.”

  “I’m cheered,” she whispered, but she couldn’t smile, couldn’t laugh. Pain felt like fire shooting up her leg.

  “And pretend that it’s a healing spa.” Tucker nudged her a little and then slid his arm through hers and took part of her weight. “What comes after that?”

  She shook her head. She wasn’t going to sing about snowmen and marriage. “I don’t want to sing.”

  “Of course you do.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned against him. His arms tightened around her, holding her up, keeping her close. “I’m tired.”

  “I know you are.”

  They trudged on through the late afternoon. The temperature had dropped throughout the day and Penelope couldn’t begin to imagine how cold it was. Without the sun to warm them it was miserable. Behind them, Wilma and Clark talked in quiet voices. They were tired, too.

  “Come on, I’ll give you a lift for a while.” Tucker leaned in and spoke close to her ear.

  “I’m fine, Tucker. We’ll get there soon.”

  “You’re not fine. Come on, Penelope.” He pulled her to a stop and before she could complain he scooped her into his arms and held her close. “Isn’t that better?”

  “You’ll get worn out carrying me. I really can walk.”

  “I’m strong.”

  He was strong, she knew that—and it was part of the problem. His strong arms around her, holding her close, that was a real problem. He made her imagination circle back around to the snowman in the meadow.

  “Later on, we’ll perspire, as we sit by a fire…” she sang.

  “You want to perspire?”

  “After being this cold, I’d be happy with sweating like a hog. Wouldn’t my mother cringe if she heard that?”

  “I’m sure she would.”

  “I really can walk.”

  “I know you can.” He jostled her, moving her so that she was closer and her face was near his. She couldn’t think of snowmen, instead she thought of last night.

  “Hey, I see a light.” Clark shouted. “Up ahead, see it?”

  Tucker nodded and she held on to him as he picked up his pace. “Is it the village?”

  “It is.” Clark let out a whoop that belied his sixty years and Penelope laughed. She laughed until she cried.

  “You can let me down now.”

  “Nah, I think I’ll just carry you into camp.”

  “So everyone will think you’re a big, strong man?”

  He laughed. “No, they’ll think we’re married. I believe its an ancient wedding ceremony. It’s a lot more effective than a snowman named Parson Brown.”

  Penelope struggled to get free but his grip tightened. “Let me down.”

  “I’m kidding, Penny. I promise you, carrying a woman into camp isn’t a wedding ceremony.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Nearly.” He kissed the top of her head and snuggled her close.

  Music drifted from the village. She could see Christmas lights, a fire and people. “People!”

  He laughed. “You haven’t been away from civilization for more than a week.”

  “It was a long week.” She tried to count back, but she couldn’t remember how many days it had been. Maybe more than seven.

  “Yeah, it was.”

  She ignored him.

  Wilma and Clark walked ahead of them. They’d been at the cabin since May. Months with no one to talk to but each other and Tucker. And then her. She thought about how much she’d miss them. She’d only known them a week, but they filled a space in her life. She and Wilma had talked about faith, about finding God. Wilma had shared about their pain when they lost their son, and how they’d felt like God let them down.

  They’d spent six months finding peace with God and with their lives. Yesterday Wilma told her they were ready to go back to the mission field, ready to continue on in what God had for them.

  They were at peace because they knew that their son had known God, known faith.

  Penelope glanced at Tucker, at the lines of his face in the dark. His mouth was set in a firm line. His eyes were on the village ahead of them.

  She felt a funny tumble in her stomach at the thought of losing these three people. As soon as they got back to Treasure Creek they’d go their separate ways. They’d go back to the lives they’d been running from and from decisions they had to make.

  She didn’t want to lose them.

  “Promise you’ll call me sometime.” She looked up at Tucker, biting her lip as she waited for his reply.

  “Call you?”

  “You know, on the phone. They have those in the real world.”

  “I know, but…”

  “But you plan on walking away, going back to Seattle and forgetting you knew me. Don’t you dare forget Clark and Wilma. They need you. You’re their son now.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “God put the three of you together after you lost your dad and they lost their son. God did that.”

  “Oh, God did that.” His voice trailed off, as if he was considering it.

  “Yes, and don’t argue. You can forget me if you want, but you can’t forget a couple that took you in and that you spent four months of your life with.”

  “I don’t plan on forgetting them.”

  Them, not her. She nearly sighed. But they we
re spotted. Villagers were running toward them.

  “What tribe is this?” She held tight to his shoulders as they moved closer to the village.

  “I’m not sure. But it looks like we caught them in the middle of a celebration. It’s November, Alaskan Native Heritage Month.”

  “I hope they don’t mind visitors.”

  “I’m sure they’ve got several. This is more for outsiders than for them.”

  “I hope they have food.”

  “They’ll have food.”

  People surrounded them, ending their conversation, ending their time together. Tucker didn’t put her down, but then they were in the circle of light, near the fire and chairs. He sat her down as Clark explained who they were and where they’d been. Someone handed Tucker a phone and in the next few minutes she heard him talking to his friend Jake, explaining that both he and Penelope were alive, telling where they were.

  From across the campfire she saw Tucker moved toward a group of men, and then Wilma hurried toward her, reaching Penelope just as the doctor removed her shoe.

  It happened too fast, this reentry into life, into civilization. She was Penelope Lear again, and that was all that seemed to matter to anyone—her name.

  Tucker accepted a cup of coffee after making a phone call to Jake in Treasure Creek. He’d been right about Herman Lear. He’d been using every resource imaginable to find his daughter.

  He carried the coffee into the town’s small gathering hall, where they’d taken Penelope and the Johnsons. From outside the frosty window, he could see her inside, sitting with her foot propped while some Dr. Single and Handsome talked to her, touching her foot, smiling. Penelope wasn’t smiling though.

  At that moment, Penelope glanced out the window and caught his gaze. What he saw in her eyes was that she was trapped, pure and simple. She looked like a scared kitten looking for a way out. She should have looked like a stray that had just been given a home and a bowl of milk. He let out a sigh as he pushed the door open and stepped into the wood-fire-heated warmth of the hall.

  Electricity. Boy, he hadn’t used that in a while: bright overhead lights and a radio blaring. He shuddered a little. It was going to take time, getting used to civilization. And he needed a haircut. He hadn’t realized until he looked in a mirror just how shaggy his hair had gotten.

  “How is she, Doc?”

  Dr. Good Looks glanced up, not smiling. “She shouldn’t have made that walk, but I think she’ll be fine.”

  Man, this guy was serious. “No, she probably shouldn’t have. But walking was better than the alternative.”

  Staying in the woods all winter. Worse, meeting up with whomever had been at the cabin.

  He winked at Penelope and she nearly smiled. “Want a cup of coffee?”

  She nodded. “I’d love one.”

  “See, Doc, that’s all it takes. A cup of coffee, a good night’s rest and she’ll be back to her old self.”

  Back to being Penelope Lear. He watched her, wondering if being Penelope Lear was really any better than being Tucker Lawson.

  “Your dad is coming here to meet you.” He leaned against the wall. She glanced up, her eyes shadowed and a little tearful. “I’ll go get that coffee.”

  “Thanks.”

  He wanted out of there before she cried. Tears weren’t his thing. He glanced back over his shoulder at Penelope on the chair and the doctor sitting across from her now. Yeah, he was the kind of guy who could handle tears.

  Tucker walked out into the cold Alaska night. In the center of the town a fire burned bright, and the village residents were performing a colorful dance, displaying their heritage for the few dozen people who had showed up for the festival.

  “Tucker, hold up.” Clark Johnson hurried across the street to catch up with him.

  “Did you get Wilma settled at the pastor’s home?” Tucker walked next to the older man. The ground was covered with a light dusting of snow and picked up the light of the full moon. It was cold though, deep-down cold.

  “Yes, but she’s heading across the street to check on Penelope. She isn’t going to let you two kids go, you know. As far as she’s concerned, you’re both hers now.”

  “I don’t think either of us is bothered by that.”

  “What will you do, Tucker?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you have to settle your dad’s estate. But are you going back to Seattle to your law practice?”

  Tucker shrugged. “I don’t know what else I’d do. What about you?”

  “Back to Germany and our church there. Last spring we didn’t know if we could do it again, but now…well, how can we not?”

  “I guess I don’t know how you can.” Tucker paused for a moment to think about what he wanted to say. With anyone else he’d hold back. A quick look at him and he knew that Clark would want nothing but the truth. “You’ve given your life to serving God, and what did that get you?”

  “Well, Tucker, it got us through a storm. It helped us heal. Our faith gave us something to hold onto. Yes, we were angry. We were hurt. We felt let down. We can feel those things and still have faith.”

  “I wish I had met you a long time ago, Clark.”

  “No such thing as too late, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Clark stopped walking. The snow was coming down hard, and in the distance Tucker heard the choppy sound of a helicopter. “Where are you heading?”

  “Coffee for Penelope.”

  “How is she?”

  “Good, I guess.”

  “I think she would have stayed out in the cabin all winter.”

  “I think she would have driven you crazy if that had happened.” He knew she would have driven him crazy…or something.

  Clark laughed. “No, she wouldn’t have driven us crazy. Watching her come to life was like watching a child take their first steps. She’s a pretty special young woman.”

  A sentence loaded with meaning, and Tucker wasn’t biting. Clark and Wilma had fallen into the trap of matchmaking.

  Instead of responding, he dug out the wallet that had been dormant for months. He still had cash, but he figured that his credit cards were probably frozen.

  They walked to a small refreshment stand. Tucker strolled up to the Formica-topped counter and ordered coffee to go.

  Suddenly lights flashed across the ground from a beam from the sky. He knew who was in that helicopter. He watched the lights skim across the night sky.

  “Here’s your coffee.” The girl slid the cup across the countertop, but her eyes were on the helicopter. “Who do you think is riding in that? Did they have to call in a life flight for someone?”

  “No, it isn’t medical. It’s here to pick someone up.” He picked up the cup of coffee.

  People were running in the direction of the lot where the helicopter had landed. The blades were still beating the air. Probably the most excitement this village had seen in a while. Most of them probably didn’t know who Herman Lear was, but it didn’t matter much. The man had come to get his daughter.

  Chapter Eight

  The helicopter flew over, its spotlight hitting the snowy ground. Penelope shuddered and hunkered down in her coat. She wished she had that coffee Tucker had promised. She could really use the warmth of that coffee. A soft hand rubbed her back. She smiled up at Wilma.

  “You’ll be home in no time flying in that thing.”

  Penelope nodded. “I know.”

  “Oh, honey, they’ve been worried about you. Give them that pretty smile of yours.”

  “I’m not ready to go back home. I’m not ready to leave…” She sniffed. This was so embarrassing. “I’m not ready to leave you and Clark.”

  “Well, we aren’t going to lose each other. I plan on seeing you every chance I get.”

  Penelope reached for Wilma’s hand. “I won’t let you forget that promise.”

  Outside the hall, people were running across the open lot. Penelope wouldn’t have run, even if she could. Instead, she continue
d to watch that crowd, looking for a familiar face that she shouldn’t have been looking for. She hadn’t seen her parents in several weeks. She should have been looking for their faces in the crowd, thinking about them.

  And she was. But thinking about her parents left her stomach unsettled, twisting in knots.

  The face she’d been searching for appeared out of the dark shadows, stepping into the streetlight. He held a a cup of coffee. Tall, his shoulders were broad beneath his parka. The hood was pushed back. He was all man. She couldn’t begin to picture him suited up in the courtroom. She liked him this way, in faded jeans, plaid and that big heavy parka. His hair was a little long, a little windswept. He hadn’t shaved in days.

  She wasn’t cold anymore.

  She wasn’t afraid.

  He walked through the door, bringing brisk air and the aroma of coffee. “Honey, I’m home.”

  She laughed a little and then tears started to drip down her cheeks. She wiped them away, wishing she wasn’t such a baby. Why in the world was she crying? She didn’t have a reason to be sad. They’d made it out safely. She was going home. Tucker set the cup down on the table. She really wanted that coffee.

  “Hey, why are you crying now? Tomorrow you’ll be back in Anchorage having a spa day with the girls.”

  “Who said I’m going back?” The tears dried up and she sat a little straighter. “Seriously, who said I need spa days?”

  “I just thought that after this, you’d be tired of adventure.”

  “Are you jetting off to Seattle tomorrow?”

  “No, I have business to take care of in Treasure Creek.”

  “Well, so do I.”

  He handed her the cup of coffee and sat down in the chair across from her, moving her foot to the side a little. “Go home, Pollyanna. Go back with your parents. Let them take care of you. They’ve been worried sick. I talked to Jake and he said they had search teams, planes and helicopters looking for you.”

  “I know they’ve missed me. I know they were worried. I’m not selfish. I just…” She sipped the coffee before going on. “I love Treasure Creek. I love being a part of that town.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, seriously.”

 

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