Whispers of the Heart

by Stephanie Wilson

  After Erika had donned her fuzzy pink flannel nightgown she snuggled down into the feather bed, now so very tired and so very contented. She was bone weary from the long trek and the midnight hour. As her silken cheek met the freshly laundered flannel sheet, Erika felt the tendrils of exhaustion claw at her consciousness.

  Seconds later a soft knock on the bedroom door announced Maime’s arrival. Slowly she opened the door and peeked around the corner. Erika smiled at the softly curled gray head that winked back at her.

  “Thought I might find you asleep already,” she said kindly.

  “A few more minutes and you probably would have,” Erika responded lightly.

  “Good. I want you to drink this cup of soup before you retire,” she said while settling a bed tray over Erika’s knees.

  “Now after you have eaten all your soup and drunk all your warm milk, I want you to go to sleep,” she said somewhat sternly. “And first thing tomorrow morning, you need to call your Uncle Lawrence.”

  “Yes,” Erika agreed. “I do need to talk to him.”

  “He was quite upset when I spoke to him earlier. Understandably so. I was purposefully vague and I know that angered him.”

  “My Uncle Lawrence can be ... quite protective,” she finished with a sardonic smile.

  Minutes later Maime cleared away the bed tray and kissed Erika’s forehead as she had been doing ever since Erika had gained consciousness days earlier. Erika reveled in the familiarity. No one in her entire life had ever performed that endearment. Oh, Erika supposed her mother had before she died, but she had no memory of it.

  Climbing out of bed one last time, Erika retrieved her cell phone and dialed her uncle’s private number at the Beverly Hills mansion. She winced as she noted the late hour. She hated to disturb his sleep but also knew that not hearing from her could cause him more distress.

  Within seconds, Lawrence had answered the phone sounding as if sleep was yet a long way off for him. Erika’s voice caught as she heard his familiar voice. It had seemed like years had passed since that day in his office so long ago.

  Lawrence was understandably shaken by Erika’s story. At first, he vented an almost uncontrollable anger that quickly gave way to thankfulness. She lamented to him how her dishonesty had hurt those who had befriended her. Lawrence was very disapproving of anything that smacked of dishonesty. She knew deep down that he was disappointed in her. But, he loved her and that was, she knew, the most important of all.

  When Erika concluded her call, promising she wouldn’t make the trip back to Los Angeles until she was completely recovered, Lawrence unexpectedly asked to speak to Maime. She was surprised but readily agreed.

  After returning to her room, Erika burrowed into the soft flannel sheets and downy quilts. Confession was good for the soul she thought as a deep slumber finally and delightfully claimed her. Dreams of snowflakes and a handsome blue-eyed stranger danced in her head all night long.

  By morning, Erika felt brand new. She awoke with a calmness that she hadn’t felt in perhaps years. The air around her face was a little cool but her body, encased in flannel, was toasty warm. Gingerly she turned first from one side to the other. Gleefully she reported to herself that she felt no pain. Stretching felt good.

  Erika lay silently listening to the sounds of morning. Not bothering to glance at the dresser clock, she peered through the slats of the wooden shutters adorning her bedroom window. She detected a brilliant blue sky with giant white puffy clouds gently floating by. Peace enveloped her soul, helping to distract her mind from a tender and bruised heart. She knew the pain would always remain in some form for she had fallen deeply in love with Tim. She also knew that life would go on. His rejection and harsh words still rang in her ears allowing her bitterness to harden slightly. He had been so unfair … so unjust … so cruel. She would nourish that bitterness for a few days because it felt good … but then she would let it go and let life meander on. She wouldn’t ruin her life over it. But, she would never, never love someone as she had Tim.

  Propping herself on her elbow, Erika looked with pleasure around the room. Knowing her time at the lake was short, she decided to give herself just one more day. One day in exchange for forever. Though her friends had become very dear, Erika knew it was impossible that she would ever return to Priest Lake and risk running into Tim again.

  And then she heard the bang of pots coming from the kitchen. Listening intently to the homey sound, Erika thought she also detected a crackle coming from the huge stone fireplace. A tender smile began at one corner of her perfectly formed lips and continued until she hugged herself tightly with a prayer of thanksgiving to the God who had given her a future again.

  In no time, Erika joined Maime and Papa and Harry at the breakfast table looking more chipper than she had in a week. All were smiles as they watched her dig into the lumberjack-size breakfast Maime had lovingly prepared.

  “This here’s a North Idaho breakfast and don’t you ever forget it, Marie,” Harry admonished. “There isn’t a place in the world that you can have this kind of food and this kind of company …”

  “What’s wrong,” he cried suddenly as Erika’s fork clattered on the white ceramic plate.

  “I don’t believe it,” she breathed. “I’ve never seen anything … so … beautiful! It’s like … God smiling down … on me!”

  “What in God sakes,” Harry breathed craning his neck to view the object of Erika’s attention.

  Maime’s maple stained lips sported a wry smile as she gained Harry’s attention with one word, “Snow.”

  “What in land’s sake is so exciting about snow?” Papa said returning to his Huckleberry flapjacks.

  “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” Erika breathed from the window where she had been inexplicably drawn. The world seemed to stand still as Erika stared transfixed at the beauty before her. The pristine blanket of white snow gleamed in the weak morning sun. The iced flakes caught the sun’s early light and sparkled like a mountain of diamonds. The brilliant blue sky was reflected in the white-blue iciness. It was like waking up to a wonderland of God’s creation. The freshness was overwhelming.

  Erika’s earlier experiences of snow came from the world’s most majestic ski resorts. But there was no comparison, no commercialism surrounding this snow. It was as if God had breathed a perfect world … and this was it. Nothing to distract from its infinite beauty … just herself, her dear friends … and nature.

  Her eyes traveled over the snow blanket that covered the rough sandy shore and then to the lake beyond whose edges were outlined in ice. The quietness of the morning settled over Erika, reminding her of the peacefulness she had felt the evening before.

  “Dear,” Maime said, interrupting Erika’s wayward thoughts, “Why don’t you finish your breakfast a’fore it gets cold … and then maybe … if you’ll only stay out a few minutes,” she carefully warned, “Harry could take you outside to get a better view.”

  Erika, of course, didn’t need Maime’s permission to do anything. However, she had earned her respect by the hours she had kept a constant vigil at Erika’s bedside.

  “That sounds good,” Erika replied respectfully. “I am famished this morning,” she admitted as she reluctantly returned to her chair at the breakfast table. “… and besides, it will be a long time before I have a breakfast this delicious again.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t count on it,” Maime said as she lifted yet another bite of pancakes to her mouth.

  “Why do you say that?” Erika questioned with amusement.

  “Because,” Maime responded slyly. “One can have pancakes in Los Angeles too.”

  “Well, yes … of course,” Erika responded. “But, I don’t usually have large breakfasts. I think it dulls my senses … and that’s one thing I can’t afford,” she finished.

  “Breakfast is one of the most important meals of your day. Why do you think I first taught you how to bake things like muffins and biscuits?” Maime questioned, ignoring
the men’s rolling eyes. “Anyways … you will begin having breakfast when you return.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Maime. I really appreciate it,” Erika said sincerely. “But I just don’t have time to cook breakfast in the morning.”

  “Well … I think we’ll start out by having oatmeal on our first morning … Irish oatmeal I think … and then we’ll go from there …”

  “Our first morning?” Erika asked as her confusion mounted over the twinkle she now detected in Maime’s kind eyes.

  “How do you feel about eggs?” Maime asked completely ignoring Erika’s question.

  Enlightenment dawned when Erika remembered to whom she had spoken before falling into a deep slumber the evening before and more importantly to whom he had asked to speak with.

  “What did my uncle say to you last evening?” Erika questioned rather intently.

  “Nothing much … just an apology … and a simple request. A request, mind you,” Maime added with determination, “that I had already given serious thought to …”

  “And that request was …?” Erika asked pointedly.

  “I’m going to accompany you to Los Angeles tomorrow. And then I’m going to stay there,” she added as Erika began to voice her objection, “until I know for sure that you are going to be all right. And no one,” she pronounced, “can tell me that but myself. So, you’re going to have to get used to having an old woman following you about.”

  “Maime, I would love nothing more than for you to visit me in L.A. But … what about Papa? Won’t you miss him terribly? What about your women’s meetings?”

  “It’ll all wait,” Maime said with a sharp wave of her hand. “I’ll plan to be back by the holidays … and for the record, Papa would hear of nothing else either.”

  Gingerly laying her fork on the ceramic plate, Erika raised emotion-filled eyes to Maime. “You’ll never know how much it means to me that you would … care this much. I’ve always had a lot of people around me … for many reasons,” she said vaguely, “but no one has ever done … this for me,” she concluded softly.

  “Thank you, Papa. I will take very good care of her.”

  “I know you will, Missy. That’s why I’m lettin’ her go. ‘Sides, couldn’t have said ‘no’ iffin I’d wanted to. This ones got a mind of her own.”

  Harry had remained silent through the entire interchange, watching, listening … and drawing more conclusions than Erika would ever know.

  Breakfast concluded in a fury of conversation about the impending trip back to Los Angeles on the morrow. Maime shooed everyone from the table to clean up and then announced that she needed to return to her home to pack the needed belongings.

  Erika’s eyes traveled longingly to the snow and the lake beyond. When the commotion finally settled, Harry slipped over to Erika and asked if he might accompany her outside. Gratefully, Erika’s face warmed into a brilliant smile as she promised to bundle up warmly and return in a few moments.

  The still, frosty air stung Erika’s lungs as she inhaled her first breath of icy air. It rejuvenated her with every tingle of coldness that coursed through her body. Tim should be here sharing this. I know he would feel the same as I, she told herself. Just the sight of the deep lake in the distance caused a tear of loneliness to gather. How different everything was now. On the one hand, she missed him terribly. On the other hand, she hated him for the callousness he had subjected her to. She had promised herself a few days of bitterness. Perhaps it was too much to ask. Perhaps after the anger subsided, she should just let it go and remember all the wonderful days God had given them before … before everything had changed.

  As Erika glanced at the deep footprints she was leaving behind, she wondered if the memory of Tim would stay as indelibly imprinted on her soul as her footprints remained in the snow. The allegory was meaningful as she looked ahead to the fresh unmarked snow. He will always be with me she promised herself. Everywhere I go, his footprint on my life will remain … but it won’t hold me back. I will find happiness in my solitude.

  As an icy breeze caught the fur on Erika’s collar stinging her cheeks, she couldn’t help but remember the terror she had felt only days before at being caught in the storm unprepared. Erika unwittingly trembled as she remembered that night spent in the wilderness. She remembered how the intense cold had penetrated her skin, reaching deep into her body until it protectively slowed its functions with a tremendous weariness, causing her to fall into a tumultuous slumber that would last many days.

  The details of that night would always be foggy in her memory. The days spent in unconsciousness had obliterated most of her recollection. But there were poignant moments Erika would always remember. She would always remember how close she had come to losing her life. She would always remember Maime’s selfless vigil and life-saving efforts along with Harry and Sam. She would always remember that picnic in the meadow … and she would always remember her dream that Tim had come to her when she was sick and held her hand and told her that he loved her.

  Though she knew the last to be but a dream, it comforted her when she considered what his absence in the ensuing days since her recovery really meant. Erika told herself repeatedly that it was for the best and that she had expected nothing less. But today, walking under the same pine trees they had walked brought those memories to startling clarity in her mind. The sharpness of their parting seemed almost more than she could bear.

  It was then that she remembered Harry. He had quietly accompanied her during the long trek she had unconsciously made from her lakeside cottage to her favorite rock a little northwest of Bear Creek Lodge. She smiled softly at Harry as she brushed a good four inches of snow from the rock’s surface. Quietly, Harry lay a woolen blanket that would easily accommodate the both of them on top of the rock. Perching herself on the rock’s edge, Erika raised her knees to her chest and tightly wrapped her arms comfortingly around herself. Thankfully, Harry respected the quietness she desperately needed and let her gaze for the next half-hour at the frozen lake water and the trees drooping under the weight of heavy snow.

  There was absolute silence. Not a creature moved. It was as if she was completely alone in the world. As if … God had created this world for her … for this moment. She reveled in those thoughts, in the comfortable silence she and Harry had maintained. She could never thank him enough for that latitude.

  “You know I’ll never forget him,” Erika said … almost to herself after a time. “There will never be a day when he isn’t with me… I know it sounds … a little dramatic,” she added somewhat embarrassed, “I mean our only knowing each other for such a short time …”

  A silence fell between them until Harry finally turned and said, “It’s not dramatic when two people fall in love. There is no … time requirement on true love.”

  “Well … I don’t know about ‘true love,’” she said. “I think true love is when that love is returned. And … I didn’t deserve or qualify for that love.”

  “Maybe Tim feels the same way,” Harry interjected.

  Erika thought for several moments about his comment. It didn’t quite make sense.

  “Then … why …?”

  “Why isn’t he here with you now,” Harry finished for her.

  “Yes.”

  “Perhaps, as you say, there were extenuating circumstances.”

  “Maybe,” she shrugged.

  “And maybe,” he continued, “there is much you don’t know about him.”

  “I know all I need to know,” she said after several seconds. Squinting at the brilliant Selkirk Mountain range gleaming in the sun Erika continued. “What I do know is that though we quarreled and though he said some very horrible things to me … I know that Tim was a good man … a man of virtue … of character. I know that he would never understand why I had to deceive him.”

  A guilty flush rose from Erika’s cheeks as she flashed a glance at Harry’s startlingly clear blue eyes.

  “Has Maime told you anything?” she in
quired.

  “I overheard her conversation with your uncle at my cabin. When I questioned her, she said I’d have to talk to you.”

  “Oh,” she finished lamely. “I never meant to … I mean … I really tried not to lie.”

  “To my knowledge,” he interjected, “you never lied, Erika,” he said pointedly. “You just omitted.”

  “It’s a good start,” she said abruptly. “You know my real name. The other part is …”

  “I know who you are,” he said quickly. “I know more than you think,” he said raising a cocky eyebrow at her startled expression.

  “I know you’re Erika Crawford, heiress of Crawford Industries and impending President of Capital Textiles.”

  Erika felt her two worlds collide at the mention of Capital. It was painful … yet so refreshing to finally have it all out in the open. She was, however, astonished at Harry’s ability to succinctly describe the life she had desperately tried to hide.

  “How long have you known?” she breathed.

  “Long enough. What I want to know is why.”

  “It’s a long story, Harry. But suffice it to say that I have always valued my privacy … in hindsight, probably too much. Before leaving Los Angeles, I was involved in a somewhat public debacle.”

  “And you would be referring to your broken engagement with a man named Caslin?”

  “How did you know that?” she questioned sharply.

  “I told you that I keep up on all the business news,” he answered defensively. “There was a lot of speculation about what your breakup would do to Capital stock.”

  “I’m sure there was,” Erika responded derisively. “Anyway, I came up here to get away from it all and try to put my life back together.”

  “Did you love him?” Harry asked after a time.

  “No,” Erika answered with clarity. “Actually, I can say that I never loved him at all.”