The Cottage on Juniper Ridge

by Sheila Roberts

  “I’m saying I want to be a bigger part of your life. Marry me?”

  “M-marry?” she stammered.

  “I love you, Chita, and I want to be there for you on a permanent basis. I’m hoping you feel the same way about me.”

  Was she dreaming? Good things like this didn’t happen to Chita Arness. She blinked. Okay, she hadn’t imagined what had just happened. He was still here, sitting beside her, looking at her hopefully.

  “I wish you’d say something,” he said. “You’re killing me.”

  “Yes! I say yes,” she said, and kissed him.

  “I’m the luckiest man alive,” he said. Then he kissed her again. And that was when the real fireworks started.

  Ken had said her life wasn’t over yet. He’d been right. In fact, it was just beginning.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Facing challenges head on is the best way to meet them.

  —Muriel Sterling, author of Simplicity

  The end of the week found Toni and her family packing up to go home. “I hate to leave this place,” she said as she stuffed the last of her clothes in a suitcase.

  “Yeah, it’s been great.” Wayne eyed the overflowing suitcase. “You’re not going to get that closed.”

  “Sure, I am.”

  He shook his head. “How is it that women can wind up with more clothes at the end of a vacation than they had at the beginning?”

  “You know the answer to that,” she teased.

  “Yeah, it was a rhetorical question. I did figure since we were in a mountain cabin you wouldn’t have much exposure to the shops in town, though.”

  “Silly you. Here, come and help me.”

  With her sitting on the suitcase and Wayne zipping it shut they finally managed, and he hauled that, along with a tote bag full of toiletries, out to the car.

  With their personal items packed, Toni went to work on the kitchen. In half an hour that, too, was dismantled.

  “You can take this box out to the car while I clean the sink,” she said to Jordan.

  “Mom,” Jordan protested, looking nervously toward the great outdoors.

  “I promise you no bear is going to eat you between here and the car,” Toni said.

  “I’ll clean the sink,” Jordan offered.

  “All right.” Toni scooped up the box of leftover groceries to take out to Wayne, who was in charge of packing everything into the back of the SUV.

  Jeffrey, who’d never succumbed to bear phobia, had been helping his dad load up. “Here’s one more,” she said, handing the box to Wayne.

  “That’s all we’ve got room for. No buying anything else when we go through town.”

  Toni shook her head solemnly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Ten minutes later, they were winding down the mountain road. Half an hour after that, they were at Gingerbread Haus, getting cookies for the trip home and saying goodbye to Jen. Then it would be back to the real world, Toni thought, feeling mildly depressed. Back to our busy, tech-obsessed, disconnected life.

  “I wish we weren’t leaving,” she confessed to her sister.

  “But we’re not that far away. You guys should come back for Oktoberfest.”

  “We’d better see you before then,” Toni said.

  “You will,” Jen promised.

  “Meanwhile, be careful on your hikes,” Toni advised. “And always take your cell phone with you,” she added with a grin.

  “Yes, Mother,” Jen said with a laugh. “You sure you don’t want to stay for a few extra days and hike up to the Enchantments with Cecily and me?”

  Toni had heard that the collection of lakes high in the mountains was gorgeous, an extraordinary experience. People actually had to make reservations far ahead of time to go there. Still... “No, thanks. I’ve had enough of hiking. I’m going to stick to tennis and golf.”

  “I want to go,” Jeffrey piped up.

  Wayne steered him toward the door. “Next year, pal.”

  Jen came around the counter and gave her sister a hug. “I’m glad you guys had such a good visit.”

  “Come on, Toni,” Wayne called. “Let’s hit the road.”

  She and Jen exchanged one last hug, then Toni hurried out the door after her family. Everyone settled back in the SUV with their treats and they were on their way back home. Toni looked wistfully at the quaint downtown with flowers spilling from the flower boxes on the Bavarian-style buildings. Shoppers were strolling along the sidewalk, enjoying lattes and the morning sunshine. The sound of a child’s laughter drifted in through her open window.

  “You love it here, don’t you?” Wayne said.

  “I do. There’s something magical about this place.”

  “Gonna write an article about it?”

  “For sure—how our family of four bonded in six hundred square feet.”

  “Write about seeing the bear, Mom,” Jeffrey said excitedly.

  “Ugh.” Jordan shuddered. “I think we should stay in town for our next vacation.”

  “Would you like to come here again?” Toni asked, surprised.

  “Yeah!” Jeffrey replied.

  “Definitely,” Jordan agreed. “But not way up in the mountains. No more bears.”

  “I wonder how much a condo is here,” Wayne said thoughtfully. Even though the one fish he’d caught had barely been big enough to fill a small frying pan, he was now hooked on fly-fishing.

  “I doubt we could swing it,” Toni said. They had braces to pay for and college to save for and...if she sold a few more articles a month, could they put aside enough for a down payment? “Want to come back up for Oktoberfest and look? Just for the fun of it?”

  He grinned. “Why not? A guy can dream.”

  So could a woman.

  * * *

  As soon as Jen finished her shift at Gingerbread Haus, she hurried back to the cabin to meet Cecily, who was going to be her hiking companion and trail guide to the Enchantments. Cecily had planned to go with another friend who’d backed out at the last minute and had asked Jen if she wanted to step in and take the friend’s place.

  She’d readily agreed.

  And then wondered what she’d agreed to. It would take the whole afternoon just to get to their first stop, Snow Lake.

  “I hope I’m up for this,” Jen said as they made their way along Snow Creek Trail. “I’ve never done much hiking.”

  “You did fine on Lost Bride Trail,” Cecily assured her. “And you can’t live in Icicle Falls and not hike, not with all this gorgeous scenery.”

  She was right about that. The mountains, the greenery, the wildflowers—this was Mother Nature at her most beautiful.

  “Just don’t sprain your ankle,” Cecily teased. “We don’t have Tiny with us.”

  “But we have cell phones,” Jen said, holding hers up.

  “It won’t work once we get higher. We’re on our own. Hope you brought enough ramen in your backpack.”

  “I’ve got instant noodles, jerky, trail mix and dried fruit. Oh, and water.”

  “And I brought some chocolate,” Cecily said.

  Ah, the advantages of being friends with someone whose family owned a chocolate company.

  The hike had started out easy, with lots of switchbacks. But as they continued, the terrain became steeper, and pine trees and brush replaced the fir and wildflowers they’d seen at the lower elevations. By the time they reached their camping spot for the night, Jen was sweaty and exhausted. And they still had to set up the small tent Cecily had brought.

  “I don’t think I’m cut out for this mountain woman stuff,” Jen groaned.

  “You’ll feel better after a swim in the lake and some chocolate,” Cecily told her.

  Cec
ily knew what she was talking about, Jen decided later as she sat in front of their little campfire and enjoyed herb tea and chocolate-covered almonds while listening to Cecily’s stories about some of the horrible clients she’d had when she owned her matchmaking service. This was fun.

  The next day, after several hours of hiking, she revised her opinion again. This was work. The muscles in her legs were screaming and she had a blister forming on one of her little toes.

  But then they arrived at Lake Vivian. “Oh, my,” she said, taking in the serene lake glittering with diamonds of sunlight. Majestic mountains cradled it. She caught sight of an eagle swooping across the cloudless sky. The air was so fresh she felt as if she were inhaling ice cubes. She whipped out her cell phone and took a picture, but the picture didn’t do justice to what she was seeing. “This was worth every blister.”

  “It is incredible, isn’t it?” Cecily said. “The first time I ever hiked up here was with my dad. I was in middle school.” She gestured toward the trees. “My sisters managed to get lost. They’d wandered off when Dad was setting up the tent, even though he’d told them to stay near the campsite. My poor dad was so scared. I, wonderful sister that I am, was just mad because we had to waste time looking for them.” She grinned at Jen. “I hope you’re not planning to wander off.”

  “No way,” Jen said fervently. “My blisters wouldn’t let me,” she added, grinning back. “Anyway, I wouldn’t dare. I couldn’t call for help. No cell phone reception up here, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So what do we do if we have an emergency?” Jen asked. She suddenly remembered that bear her sister had seen at the cabin. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, after all. They’d met very few hikers on their way here. Who would help them if they encountered a hungry bear?

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got my brother-in-law’s handheld ham radio.”

  Yet another thing Cecily the superhiker had managed to stuff in her backpack. But Jen was relieved that she had, especially after the bear incident. “At least they’ll know where to look for our remains if we get eaten.”

  Cecily snickered. “You city girls are such weenies.”

  They set up their tent, and then cooled off in the lake. By the time they returned, other campers had appeared—a fortysomething couple who looked fit enough to scale Mount Rainier without even getting winded. It turned out they were newlyweds.

  “Which accounts for the fact that they don’t want to stick around and yak with us,” Cecily said with a grin.

  “It’s really beautiful up here, but I don’t know if this would be my idea of a romantic honeymoon,” Jen said, watching them move to their campsite farther down the lake.

  “Different strokes,” Cecily said.

  As the afternoon wore on, more campers showed up, fanning out to secluded spots around the lake—a family of four, two middle-aged men, three college boys and another couple.

  “This is a popular area. That’s why they make you get reservations,” Cecily explained. “I’m glad you could go at the last minute. I’d have hated to lose mine.”

  “I’m glad I came,” Jen said.

  Cecily indicated the blister Jen was covering with a bandage. “In spite of the blisters?”

  “In spite of the blisters. No pain, no gain.”

  “More like no pain with better-fitting hiking shoes,” Cecily said.

  They had just polished off some chocolate when Jen noticed a growing haze in the distance. “Is that...smoke?”

  Cecily shaded her eyes and peered over to where she was pointing. “Oh, gosh, it sure looks like it.”

  Jen had a sudden uneasy feeling. “A forest fire?”

  Cecily shook her head in disgust. “Probably caused by some careless campers who didn’t put out their fire properly. Or a cigarette.”

  Jen stared at the angry sky. “How close are we to that?”

  “Not at all. That’s Round Mountain. It’s three mountains away.”

  “I hope no one’s over there camping,” Jen said.

  “If there are, I hope the forest rangers got them out.”

  Three mountains away, Jen told herself as they settled in for the evening. Still, it was hard to enjoy her instant noodles and jerky. That distant smoke robbed her of appetite. She thought that when she crawled into the tent she wouldn’t sleep a wink, but she was dead to the world almost the minute she got inside her sleeping bag.

  When she came out in the morning, she found Cecily already awake and watching the sky with a frown on her face. And it wasn’t hard to see why. The distant smoke had grown into something more ominous, a huge, end-of-the-world mushroom cloud of gray accented with bright red.

  “What happened to the three mountains in between us?” she asked.

  “Good question,” Cecily said, and went to fetch her radio.

  Jen sat on a log, listening nervously as her friend talked.

  “The fire’s at Rat Creek?”

  Jen had no idea where Rat Creek was, but she realized the fire was closer to them than they’d originally assumed. She gnawed on her lip as she listened to snatches of conversation, trying to distract herself from the sick feeling in her stomach.

  “Helicopters?...There’s more than just the two of us....I don’t know how many campers are here. At least twenty....The top of Aasgard Pass? Yes, we can find it.”

  A helicopter? Aasgard Pass? Jen’s stomach really began to roil. “What’s going on?” she asked as soon as Cecily finished talking on her radio.

  “I just talked to the fire department.”

  “And they’re sending in helicopters?” The sooner, the better. Cecily shook her head and Jen’s heart dove straight into her roiling stomach. “They can’t help us?” she asked weakly.

  “There’s too many of us to airlift. They’re going to helicopter in two park rangers to escort us out.”

  “Okay.” That could work.

  “Meanwhile, we’ve got to round up everyone who’s up here camping and get them to Aasgard Pass.”

  “Where’s that?”

  Cecily hesitated for one uncomfortable moment.

  “It’s not close by, is it?” Jen guessed. She was going to puke. Or pass out. Maybe both.

  “Let’s just say that your blister might have company by the time we get there.” Cecily began to take down the tent. “Come on, we’ve got to hurry. We have a lot of people to find and a lot of distance to cover.”

  Jen kept her own fear at bay while she scoured the area for campers to alert, but once everyone was assembled and making their way to the meeting spot, she had plenty of time to think. What if the fire trapped them on the trail? She’d die. She’d never see her family again. Or her little mountain cottage. Or Garrett Armstrong. And death by fire, what a horrible way to go! When they finally reached their destination—a large meadow near the trail they’d use the following morning—she did, indeed, have more blisters. She was also sweaty and miserable. And, oh, so scared.

  But she did her best to hide it, trying to distract the two grade-school boys in the family of hikers who’d had set their tents up near her and Cecily, playing memory games with them. They were in the middle of playing My Grandfather Has a Library when four more people joined their group.

  They were young, athletic and as grimy as everyone else. And one of them was Tilda Morrison. Tilda! What was she doing out here? Like the three men she was with, Tilda was out of breath. In between gasps, she managed to tell Cecily that she and her friends had been rock climbing.

  “We had to leave everything and run,” Tilda said, and collapsed on the ground.

  “We’ve got people coming to escort us out tomorrow,” Cecily told her.

  Tilda shook her head. “The fire, it’s everywhere.”

  “We’ll make it out,” Jen said, conscious of t
he two wild-eyed boys standing next to her. She offered Tilda her water bottle.

  “Save it. You’ll need it,” Tilda said.

  “So will you. At least take a drink.”

  Tilda murmured her thanks and took a quick swig.

  The newcomers finally settled in, and everyone sat in a circle, watching the pluming, angry red smoke that had taken over the sky.

  “Man, this sucks,” said one of the teenage boys. “My mom’s gonna be so worried.”

  “Hell, I’m worried,” one of his friends muttered.

  “Haven’t had a fire this bad in years,” one of the older men said, rubbing his gray stubbled chin.

  That’s encouraging, Jen thought.

  She heard crying and turned to see that it was the younger of the two boys. His mother hugged him, promising that they’d all be fine, but it wasn’t helping.

  “Your mom’s right, you know,” Jen said. “The firemen and the forest rangers will meet us tomorrow and get us out. Just like in the movies. You’ve seen how firemen save people in the movies, haven’t you?”

  The boy’s sobs began to subside.

  “Who knows? Maybe someday they’ll make a movie about us,” she added. “Do you like movies?”

  He sniffed and nodded.

  “What one is your favorite?”

  He named the latest Disney offering.

  “I haven’t seen that one. Can you tell me what happens in it?”

  The child launched into a detailed description of the plot, and his mother smiled gratefully at Jen. The tears were gone by the time the boy finally concluded his narrative and Jen shared some of her dried apricots with him.

  “Not bad,” said Tilda, who was seated a few feet away. “You’re good with kids.”

  Jen shrugged. “That was for me as much as it was for him.”

  The parents tucked in their children, and a couple of hours after that the older people crawled into their tents. The rest of the stranded party stayed up, keeping vigil, watching the flames in the distance.

  Tomorrow they’d be walking through that, Jen thought, shuddering. She prayed they’d come out alive.