Erika,
I don’t know what to say to make up for my behavior. Other than, I’m sorry. I can’t just ignore what happened between us any longer. It has driven me and plagued me to exhaustion. I don’t know if you have moved on in your life, or if your feelings remotely echo mine.
There is much I would like to discuss with you. If there is a chance … even a slight chance for us, please consider my request. You always said you would love to see Priest Lake at Christmas. Please come. If not, I understand and you needn’t respond. I won’t contact you again.
Enclosed is the phone number for my private pilot. I am leaving for the Lake this evening and will be there until January. I have instructed my pilot to fly you here if you call.
Warmly,
T.J. Morgan
Slowly, rythmically, Erika’s heart began to thud. And then the beat hardened. Tears which began to swell in the corner of her eyes, now coursed down her cheeks. It was difficult to breathe as she tried to very carefully weigh her decision. There were severe consequences on both sides. Unwillingly, the image of T.J.’s hate filled eyes surfaced and was as real as if he was actually in her apartment. Could she face up to a similar encounter? There were no guarantees she wouldn’t. On the other hand, could she walk away, never knowing what might have been? Could she just dismiss the opportunity of being with the love of her life … even if it meant just one more time? Should she protect herself, or throw caution away, leaving herself vulnerable once again?
That night, Erika tossed and turned. Only when she realized the futility of staying in bed, she walked the lushly carpeted floors. She tried to watch a movie on a late-night cable channel, she tried to read a novel, a financial report on one of the divisions of Crawford Industries, a design magazine that had seemed so inspiring earlier that day. Finally, she walked out onto her patio and watched the sun rise. It was brilliant and warm all at the same time. Unwillingly, she remembered sunrises at Priest Lake. So captivating, so promising. There was always something about a new day … a new start … a fresh slate. Erika loved mornings. She loved fresh starts. It was then that she realized the decision had been made the minute she opened T.J.’s note.
Erika called Maime. Tears streamed down her face while she read T.J.’s missive. Ordinarily a note so personal would never have been shared. But, Maime had been there before there was even a beginning to her relationship with T.J. She wanted her advice. She wanted her blessing.
“Papa,” Maime screamed while running down the gravel pathway her husband had cleared of snow earlier that day. “Papa, where are you,” she demanded in a shrill voice.
“What in thunderation,” he said exasperated as he rounded the corner of the garage where he had been working on a snowmobile engine.
“Papa,” Maime yelled again waiving her hands as if the world were coming to an end.
“What,” he yelled back, hands on his hips.
“She’s coming,” she called breathlessly. “She’s comin’ here!”
Papa knew the “she” could only mean Erika. The flushed, excited face of his dear wife gave him pause. His heart melted a little as he remembered their youth … their courtin’ days. She looked a lot like that then. Even now, he never saw her graying hair or sagging skin. She’d always be his Maime, the love of his life. Even if he didn’t tell her as much as he should … she knew.
“You know what this means, don’t ya,” she unnecessarily yelled.
Papa nodded.
“It means there’s gonna be a weddin’! Our boy is getting’ married!”
“Ma,” Papa shouted with alarm all the while wagging his finger at her, “How do you know there’s gonna be a weddin’?”
“Cause I jus’ know,” she said stubbornly.
“Maime, I’m warning ya. Stay out! How many times have I told you to say out of their business?”
She waved at him disgustedly as she quickly made her way back to the cottage. There was so much to do. She must ready the cabin, for she was sure Erika would prefer her own accommodations. But first things first. She could hardly dial Mrs. Morgan’s telephone number quickly enough. T.J.’s mother would be in tears before their call ended. What a Christmas this was going to be.
Unbeknownst to Erika and to T.J., news spread like wildfire through the Morgan family. Family members had rearranged their plans to be at Priest Lake a little early that year. On what pretense? Scheduling, they all decided. T.J. would never know the difference. Such excitement. For T.J. was loved very dearly. Being the male heir to their vast fortune, the entire family knew how vulnerable he was when it came to choosing a mate. Granted, T.J. hadn’t told anyone of his intention. Not even his father when pressed. But they all knew. They had followed the Priest Lake love story through the eyes of Maime. They felt they knew her already. And already, they had decided she would be perfect for their family. They all just had to wait until T.J. and Erika had come to the same conclusion.
T.J.’s mother was the first to reach the Lake. The holiday season was going to be very important and she had already arranged for some of their closest friends to visit during the holidays that would last clear into the middle of January. She was going to need Maime’s help as she readied the lodge for the occasion.
Lois Morgan surveyed the Lodge with satisfaction. The few changes she had made to the décor the previous summer held up well in the winter. It was updated, yet warm. And the Lodge, as always, was in pristine condition. Maime always saw to that. As she walked into the library, a large parcel caught her eye. It was propped up against the shelves and sitting on the floor. Lois hated things to sit on the floor. Only as she bent to move the parcel to another location did she find it draped only by a cloth that quickly slid to the floor.
She caught her breath as she glimpsed a beautiful oil canvas. Drawing it closer to the light, Lois Morgan examined it carefully. It was superb in every way. The detail, the lighting, the emotion.
Flipping the painting over, she tried to see if the artist had signed it. She simply had to know its origins. It was breathtaking.
When there was no signature, she studied the painting more carefully. There was a creek tributary flowing into what looked exactly like Priest. It would be Granite Creek she decided. And a precious rowboat with peeling green and ivory paint and a pair of old wooden oars propped haphazardly against its side.
Finally, walking hand-in-hand along the shore, were two young children … beautiful children with their jeans rolled up around their ankles. And as she gazed into the eyes of the young man, she saw her son, T.J. Tears pricked at her eyes at the nearly exact likeness. It was as if time had rolled back twenty-five years. And the girl, a beautiful girl, with long dark tendrils hanging down her back gazed with an undefined love into the eyes of her son.
Lois would never know how long she stood gazing at the oil painting, reliving her child’s youth, knowing in her heart the girl in the painting was to be her daughter-in-law and learning to love her before she had even ever met her.
A long time later, Lois picked up the phone and called a designer she had used in Spokane and gave him the particulars of the painting. It was very important that he bring a suitable frame, a hand carved frame, to the Lodge by the following morning. This painting would be hanging above the immense fireplace, replacing the costly still life before anyone else arrived here. It would be the centerpiece of their holiday gathering. The lighting was perfect, the oil was a masterpiece. Her most cherished masterpiece.
T.J. hadn’t heard from Erika, rather his pilot hadn’t heard from Erika. It wasn’t surprising, but more disappointing than he would admit even to himself. He found himself procrastinating his arrival at the Lake. He knew the family would be gathering and the holiday festivities would shortly commence. All the more reason he wished he hadn’t acted so hastily by inviting Erika to the Lake. At this point, he really didn’t have a choice but to go. The one saving grace was that his family would be none the wiser. T.J. knew he couldn’t stand their looks of pity and concern
.
Erika was busily packing, knowing somehow in her heart she wouldn’t be back for a while. Maime had kindly extended an invitation for her Uncle Lawrence from Mrs. Morgan, T.J.’s mother. A gentle smile crossed Erika’s lips as she pondered how the women in his life had besieged his private life. He really didn’t stand a chance against any of them. She hadn’t called his pilot on purpose. She wouldn’t call his pilot. If she was to call anyone, it would be T.J. himself … not his pilot. No, she had decided that she and her Uncle would fly there on their own and that they would occupy the guest cottage … just in case.
Snow blanketed the bays and inlets of Priest Lake when Lawrence and Erika arrived. Papa had seen to it that the grassy airstrip near Bear Creek Lodge had been cleared. The sky also had cleared to a brilliant blue which allowed their pilot to make a quick landing. Erika’s heart was in her throat as she quickly surveyed the grassy landing. She glimpsed a familiar figure wrapped from head to toe in hats, mufflers, and boots furiously waving at them. Maime. Her dear Maime. Erika smiled and waved through teary eyes. How she had come to love that woman. Coming here was like coming … home. In her heart, Erika truly believed that.
“Erika,” Maime exclaimed as she threw her arms around her. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you too,” she returned, tightly hugging the cherished woman. “It seems like ages since I saw you last … even though it has only been a little more than a month!”
“I know, honey,” Maime replied. “I have prayed for you every last day!”
“Thank you.”
“And Mr. Bancroft,” Maime said unwrapping her arms from around Erika’s shoulders. “It is so nice of you to come.”
“After the last disastrous trip she made to these parts,” he answered a little sternly, “I wouldn’t dream of letting her come alone.”
“He’s a little grumpy about the whole trip,” Erika whispered loudly to Maime as they brushed past her uncle. Maime smiled understanding as she ushered them to the waiting station wagon that Erika knew so well.
Erika had seen the vast winter wonderland from the window of their jet, but had yet to experience winter at Priest Lake. After being told that T.J. had not yet arrived but was expected any time, she felt free to leave her Uncle in the cottage catching up on phone calls and venture out into snowy landscape.
Zipping her white parka, Erika’s boots crunched down the steps of the cottage. As she neared the clearing of Tamarack trees and saw for the first time the snow-covered lake, her breath nearly caught in her throat. Breathlessly she stood, taking in the wonder of a world she would never have believed existed. It was so utterly quiet. Not an animal sound, not a human sound to interrupt the euphoric peacefulness and solitude surrounding the vast lake. The sky was a brilliant blue, causing crystallized sparkles to dance off the rounded snow covered rocks and logs.
Hardly daring to step a foot in the pristine white blanket, Erika gingerly lowered herself to a snow-covered rock and deeply breathed in the icy air. With every crystallized breath she inhaled, it seemed that hope was renewed, health was renewed … love was renewed.
She could hardly wait to see T.J.’s startling blue eyes again. For this time, in the innermost part of her heart, she knew there was nothing to come between them now. No lies … no deceit … no secrets.
T.J. consulted his watch once again, grumbling at the delay. His jet had stopped to refuel in Spokane before making their continued journey to Priest Lake and the airstrip Papa had made sure was cleared. Now his pilot informed him of some mechanical trouble that would indefinitely delay their arrival. Stalking back and forth inside the cabin of his jet, T.J. considered his options. He could very likely wait for the repairs to be made and arrive at the lake sooner than if he rented a car and drove himself. Ironically, a foggy day in October came to his memory, but strangely enough, all he could remember about that day was a set of the most beautiful sapphire colored eyes looking beseechingly into his. And he remembered how his heart had stopped … and how arrested he became by her exquisite beauty. It couldn’t be over between them … he would do everything in his power.
T.J. grabbed an overnight bag along with his briefcase and ran down the steps onto the airstrip.
“Jim,” he yelled over the roar of the jet engines. “I’m going to rent a car and drive to the Lake. I’ll call you later. Have a great Christmas, man!”
Jim smiled as he watched T.J. jog to the terminal reserved for private jets. He knew how anxious T.J. was to reach the lake. He knew the scenario as he even yet awaited a call from Erika Crawford, an especially important guest to his boss. Smiling, he thought of his own wife and kids back home. He remembered those early days. Even now, his heart still skipped a beat when he knew he was coming home to see her.
T.J. drove relentlessly up the mountain pass in his midnight blue Ford Explorer. She might not come … but in his heart … he knew she would. As the snow-covered trees flew past his window, T.J. relished the memory of another trip not so long ago … about the unbelievable story of a girl named ‘Marie’. It was a blessing that the whole thing could amuse him. But memories of a special picnic at Granite Pass overlooking the vastness of Priest Lake, an evening dancing with her in his arms, special days spent aboard his wooden Chris Craft boat chopping up the waters of Priest Lake in glorious abandon came flooding back. Nothing … absolutely nothing could keep T.J. from loving Erika Crawford.
T.J. gripped the wheel of his Explorer as he carefully maneuvered the sharp turn coming into their bay. Surprise turned into driving need as he noticed the Crawford Industries Jet parked at the grassy airstrip. He knew she would come. He knew she would come on her own terms. It was what he loved about her.
Finally, Erika couldn’t stand it any longer and she carefully ventured out onto the icy lake, shuffling snow around as she went. She imagined ice-skating on the frozen glass … imagined snowmobile trips down the manicured trails. All at once, she wondered what the Lake would look like from Kaniksu Cliff, the very location that she and T.J. had shared that fateful picnic. She wanted to go there and make a new memory.
“Erika,” a booming voice echoed, bounced off the drifting snow successfully stopping Erika in her exploration.
She didn’t want to turn around. She would know that voice in her sleep. Tears pricked her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her throat. What if she had only been dreaming …? What if he didn’t feel the same … what if.
And then, slowly … very slowly, she turned. And he stood as if frozen in time. For a long time, they searched each other’s eyes, each other’s hearts … from yards away. Each waiting … each hoping … each wondering.
And, as if in a dream, Erika and T.J. started toward each other in the same second. Slowly at first and then driven by sheer desire … they ran. Driven by weeks of pain, disappointment, and loneliness, they each ran until T.J. reached around and grabbed Erika, swinging her around and around on the icy lake. Explosions of laughter echoed across the Lake when T.J. slipped and fell into the snow, carrying Erika down with him.
Suddenly, the laughter died as quickly as it had begun. T.J. peered carefully into Erika’s eyes, searching for that clue … that hint of forgiveness. And when he saw a mirror reflection of his soul in her eyes, he tenderly cupped her face between his hands. For a long while, each were content to gaze into each other’s eyes, reveling in each other’s presence … saying more than words ever could.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
Tears swelled in her eyes. “I am too …” And she couldn’t say any more.
“Can you ever forgive …”
She quieted him with a pink-gloved finger.
“All is forgiven,” she said breathlessly. “Can you …”
The sun had slipped behind the mountains now. It was well below freezing but neither T.J. nor Erika felt even the bracing wind as very slowly T.J. touched his lips to Erika’s. Lost in the wonderment of a rescued love, the rising tide of desire warmed each from head to toe. As the k
iss deepened into passion, the fir trees whispered the secrets of their love.
And as if the heavens wanted to give their blessing … a light snow began to fall, gently at first, and then deepening. It was an earthly winter dance of passion, mimicking at first and ultimately protecting the lovers beneath by encasing Erika and T.J. into a world of their own. For unbeknownst to the lovers, eager eyes were trained at many of the windows of Bear Creek Lodge, the marina, and the guest cottage. Each pair of those eyes crinkled in delight when the snow finally obscured their individual view of the reunion.
“Erika,” T.J. whispered between kisses. “We need to talk …”
“Shh,” she whispered gently covering his mouth with her mittened hand. “I already know,”
“This is important,” he said struggling away from her mitten. “I want to spend the rest of our lives …” he tried again.
“The answer is yes … just kiss me,” she demanded.
Startled, T.J. reared back. “Really …”
“Really,” she finished, this time successfully bringing him back into her embrace. And when his mouth covered hers and he gently laid her back into the snow, each knew then their futures were finally secure … forever.
Epilogue
It was five years later when Erika found herself sunning on the deck at Bear Creek Lodge. It was very hot and regrettably, the breeze hadn’t kicked up yet. Unusual for this time of the day. She always looked forward to that hearty breeze, cooling the mid-August heat at Priest Lake. These days she was tired all the time and there was nothing more therapeutic than the sun warming her tired bones.
Tilting her sunglasses back onto her short-cropped hair, Erika’s smile widened as she watched Maime make her way across the deck with the usual list in her hand.
“Okay, dear. Last night we had chicken … I think tonight, trout.”
“Sounds good to me,” Erika said struggling to rise.
Whispers of the Heart Page 36