"I could always call your sister…she knows where you are, doesn't she?"
"I'm not sure she knows exactly where this place is. Ted does, but he's not very easy to get in touch with most of the time." She thought for a moment. "I really don't want to put you in any sort of danger, but I have an idea. If there really is an emergency and you couldn't reach me by phone, call the Forest Service. Tell them I'm at Eagle's Eye."
"Eagle's Eye? That's the name of the mountain?"
"I don't think I should say any more."
"Eagle's Eye," Nancy repeated. "And that will mean something to the Forest Service, right?"
"It should."
"Okay, but I don't want you to worry. Like I said, we've got Marie on a watch and I'm hopeful we'll get her through this."
"I hope you're right."
"I've been listening to the show—sounds great."
"Thank goodness for that," Kristin sighed. "I swear, it's the only thing that makes this whole thing bearable."
There was another loud crackle. "Kristin? Can you hear me?"
"I'm still here," Kristin shouted into the phone. "Nancy? Nancy?"
But the signal was gone. Kristin stared down at the phone in her hand, feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. She wasn't sure how much more she could take. She was beginning to feel her life would never be her own again and she would be alone on this mountain for the rest of her life.
She tossed the cell phone down on the bed and walked to the window, gazing outside. The afternoon sky had grown dark. Clouds had been gathering ominously in the distance since dawn and the winds had steadily increased throughout the morning. They blew through the pines now, making the trees sway and whistle.
Despite her mood, she couldn't resist a thrill of excitement as she watched the storm build. There was something so unique and elemental about Eagle's Eye, like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Everything was different—the air, the sky, the weather. Even a rainstorm had a drama all its own. She wanted to go home, she wanted to get on with her life. But it wasn't the rugged landscape she objected to, or the remoteness of the location or the unique nature of life on top of the mountain. If the circumstances were any different, she would probably have found herself enjoying the experience if she just didn't feel so…alone.
It had been almost two weeks since the trip to Vega Flats and if not for the radio broadcast, she didn't think she would see Jake at all. He went about his routine and she went about hers. He was as helpful as ever during the broadcasts, even going so far as to engage her in a little conversation afterward, but it was obvious that his interest in her only reached as far as that. Once the program was over, once he'd "talked" with Jane, he retreated to his world and she to hers. And that silly notion she had that he might have some sort of interest in her seemed like a joke now. He barely looked at her anymore.
She closed her eyes, remembering those piercing brown eyes—and the way she felt when he looked at her. She hadn't realized she would miss them so much….
She opened her eyes and gave her head a shake. She couldn't allow herself to think that way. It was stupid and only made her feel worse. She was convinced he was angry and frustrated—probably as angry and frustrated as she was—just for different reasons. She suspected he wasn't very happy that he couldn't pursue his interest in Carolyn as long as she was around, even though she'd done her best to stay out of his way. Kristin wouldn't have minded exploring the area a little, hike a few of the trails that surrounded them. It would have helped pass the time and the exercise would have done wonders for her. And yet she had resisted the temptation in an effort not to make any trouble for him, not make him feel he had to watch out for her or keep tabs on where she was. She'd allowed herself to become a virtual prisoner in her room during the day, coming out only when necessary, trying everything short of telling him he was free to do whatever he wanted and not have to worry about her "interrupting" anything.
She turned and walked back to the bed to pick up her cell phone. Looking around, she spotted the charger, connected it to the phone and plugged it into the wall socket. Of course, a fully charged battery meant little when there was a weak signal to be had, but she figured it paid to be prepared. Besides, even though reception was iffy, it was still her only link to the outside world and she felt better just knowing it was there.
The knock on the door startled her, but she had no time to react. The door was open and Jake was inside before she had a chance to think.
"I need your help."
"Of…of course," she stammered, her mind reeling. "What's happened? What can I do?"
"I just got a call from Claybe down in Cedar Canyon. They've got a missing mountain biker. He was reportedly headed up this way. They're sending out a crew up the mountain to look for him. I'm going to drive down a ways, see if I can spot him before the storm hits. Do you think I could I get you to monitor the radio in the tower?"
"Yes, of course."
"I'll take one of the handheld radios so you and I can communicate—I thought you could relay any messages from Claybe."
"Absolutely," she said, looking around the room. "Let me just find my shoes."
"And you might want to grab a jacket," he suggested as he headed out the door.
"A jacket, yes," she mumbled absently, trying to figure out how her shoes could utterly disappear in such a small space. She knelt down, pushing up the bedspread and running a hand beneath the bed. Nothing.
She scrambled to her feet and had just decided to forgo the shoes, when she spotted them, neatly waiting for her by the door where she had left them.
"If they'd had teeth, they would have bitten me," she muttered as she dashed across the room and slipped them on.
Jake was already halfway across the driveway by the time she stepped outside. She ran after him, the wind catching her hair and causing it to dance wildly around her head. Inside the tower, she climbed the spiral stairs to the lookout.
"I've got these both on channel five," he said, handing her one of the small radios. "Just push the button when you want to talk, release to listen." He walked over to the large ham radio. "You can reach Cedar Canyon on this. It's all set. If Claybe calls, you just push this button and talk into the microphone." He turned to her then and she almost thought she saw his features soften just a little. "Just like Dear Jane."
"Got it," she said with a stiff nod.
He snatched up the other walkie-talkie and headed for the stairs. "I really appreciate this."
"Not a problem. I'm happy to help."
At the top of the steps, he hesitated for a moment, stopping just long enough to give her a quick look. "Thanks."
She opened her mouth to say something to him, but before she could even formulate anything in her brain, he was gone.
"Be careful," she whispered into the silence.
* * *
Jake grabbed the end of his sleeve and wiped it across the inside of the windshield. The fan was on high and the defroster was working at full capacity, but it wasn't enough to keep the windows from fogging up.
The rain was coming down in sheets now and the poor visibility had brought him to a crawl. He'd been making his way down the road for over an hour now but had seen no sign of anyone, and with the storm really winding up now, he doubted he would. If the lost biker had made it this far up the mountain, Jake would practically be on top of the poor guy before he even saw him.
"Kristin, do you read me?"
There was a momentary pause before he got a response. "I read you, Jake. I'm here."
There was something about hearing her voice that had his heart quickening in his chest. "It's getting pretty bad out here, I'm thinking of heading back in." He waited for a response, the moments stretching out endlessly. "Kristin? Do you copy that?" He waited a few moments longer, panic just tickling the outside edges of his consciousness. "Kristin? Can you hear me?"
"I'm here, Jake, hold on. I've got Cedar Canyon on the other radio."
He brought the truck to
a stop, sitting back in the seat and waiting as he watched the windshield wipers sweep back and forth across the glass.
"Jake?"
He jumped, catching up the walkie-talkie and pushing the button. "I'm here."
"That was Claybe…they've got him, Jake. Did you get that? They've got him."
"Copy that," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm heading home."
Home. He wasn't sure he'd ever referred to Eagle's Eye as his home before. Frankly, he wasn't sure he'd even thought of it as home before. It had been more like his refuge, his retreat, his place away from the mess his life had become in L.A. Of course, that had been before Kristin.
He edged the truck back and forth across the narrow road, inching it around to head back up the mountain. It was strange how much he felt Kristin's presence, especially considering how little he saw her, how brief their interactions were. After the trip to Vega Flats, he'd gotten the message loud and clear. She appreciated the place to stay and the protection Eagle's Eye afforded her, but beyond that, there was nothing else she wanted from him.
So why wasn't that enough for him? Why wasn't he satisfied that he'd been given the opportunity to meet Jane Streeter, had been able to watch her work, to actually assist her with the broadcast? She'd even gone so far as to sit with him after the show and chat with him about the callers and the topics they'd discussed. How much more did he want from her?
Only, he knew what he wanted. He wanted Kristin. He wanted to know about her, wanted to know how she could be so open and happy one moment, then somber and completely closed off the next. Jane Streeter was the part of her personality that was outgoing and extroverted, but Kristin was more reluctant to open that door. What had happened that made her keep such a tight hold on her emotions? It wasn't something that came naturally to her, because there were those times when she would forget, when she would lower her guard and lose control. But then she would catch herself and everything would change.
He turned the wheel sharply, inching the truck forward just enough to clear an embankment and get himself pointed in the right direction. Stopping just long enough to give the windshield another swipe with his sleeve, he slowly started back up the mountain.
Maybe he really had lived alone too long, maybe the isolation of Eagle's Eye had finally gotten to him, or maybe he just didn't have anything else to concentrate on. He couldn't seem to put things into perspective any longer. He had barely seen Kristin in the last two weeks and she had made it almost painfully obvious she was perfectly content to do without his company. And yet he couldn't seem to get the woman out of his mind.
It made no sense. He'd never been one to let his imagination get the best of him or let himself go off the deep end when it came to a woman—not even for his ex-wife, Valerie. Women had always held a place in his life, but at his time and at his choosing. Yet, there was something about Kristin that seemed to break the mold. Thoughts of her had a way of creeping into his head and into his consciousness and he seemed helpless to stop them.
The rain striking the windshield sounded like bullets and the wind came in powerful, sweeping blasts that rocked the entire truck. As anxious as he was to get back to the dry warmth of the tower, he kept his pace slow and steady. The road was muddy and slippery now and one wrong move could land him in serious trouble.
It was probably because he was concentrating so hard on the road that he didn't see the large boulder tumbling down the embankment until it was practically on top of him. Hitting the gas, he jerked the wheel sharply but it wasn't quite enough. The boulder clipped the back bumper of the pickup, spinning it and sending it sliding across the road sideways.
Jake struggled with the wheel, fighting for control, but the truck had picked up momentum from the boulder and careened toward the edge of the cliff. The world slowed to a series of moments, one stretching out after the other with a clarity and a cognizance that was surreal and dreamlike. He watched the ledge coming closer and closer. In his mind he could see himself plunging over the side, free-falling down to the canyon floor. He saw himself dying, but strangely it wasn't what bothered him. What worried him was Kristin. What would she do when he didn't come back? She would be all alone on that mountain. There would be no one to watch over her, no one to protect her.
Then suddenly the truck came to a stop. For a moment he could do nothing but sit there staring out the window, hearing the sound of the wind and the rain raging outside. In his mind he was still hurtling toward the bottom of the canyon, falling away from the road, from the mountain, from Kristin.
It took him a moment to realize he wasn't moving, that something had halted the fatal path he'd been on and he wasn't lying in a heap at the bottom of the canyon. He watched the windshield wipers sweeping back and forth across the glass, and realized he was going to live.
Turning his head, he peered out the passenger window. Through the streaks of water, he could see only dark, murky storm clouds as they moved down the mountain. He was going to live, but he was perched precariously on the edge of the road.
He carefully reached for the gearshift, only then becoming aware of the death grip he had on the steering wheel. He had to consciously peel his fingers free, one at a time, each joint protesting the move.
Shifting the truck into low gear, he eased his foot from the brake and onto the accelerator. He could hear the huge tires spinning, but the truck didn't move. In fact, he felt the rear of the pickup sink down a few inches. He gave it another try, but the action only made the back end sink farther.
He set the brake and turned off the engine. Putting up the hood of his down jacket, he looked at the deluge outside. He wished now he had brought the slicker that hung beside the back door—he was going to get drenched. But it was unavoidable.
He reached for the handle and pushed open the door. Stepping out of the truck, his boots sunk down into the soft mud. He made his way around the truck. It was another boulder along the other side of the road that had stopped his slide, leaving a considerable dent in the truck. But it wasn't the damage that prevented the truck from moving. It was the soft mud. The rear tire was buried nearly halfway in it.
"Damn," he muttered, the wind picking up the curse and sending it out across the canyon.
He made his way back to the cab, his soaked jacket leaving a puddle on the seat. Reaching for the walkie-talkie, he switched it on.
"Kristin, are you there?"
Chances were she wasn't. There would have been no reason for her to stick around the tower if she thought he was on his way back. Still, he felt compelled to try.
"Kristin? Come in. Do you copy?"
While he waited to see if she would answer, he reached behind the seat, searching for the small, collapsible shovel he kept back there. He had just grabbed it, when the walkie-talkie crackled to life.
"Jake? Did you call me?"
"Kristin! Yes! I've got a little problem here."
"Jake? Are you all right? What's happened?"
He told himself the alarm he heard in her voice was simply the concern she would show anyone. "I got a tire buried in mud." With his free hand, he pulled the shovel out of its canvas carrier and started to unfold it. "I'm going to have to dig it out and it's liable to take me a while. I just wanted to let you know. Didn't want you to—" He stopped. It seemed a little presumptuous to think that she would be worried about him. "I just wanted to let you know."
"Is there anything I can do? Can I help?"
"You could give AAA a call for a tow, but I don't think it would help," he joked.
"Want me to call Claybe?"
"No. I'll be fine. Just wet and dirty."
"I'll wait to hear from you. Keep me posted?"
It was stupid, but he liked the idea of checking in with her. "Will do."
The picture of Kristin in the tower was an image that stayed with him during the course of the next grueling two hours. He dug what felt like a mountain of mud from the tire and packed dozens of rocks around it in an effort to give it enough t
raction to climb out of the hole. But in the end, it was a hopeless battle. The more he dug, the softer the earth became; the more area he cleared, the more mud filled the cavity.
He was becoming exhausted. His shoulders ached and his fingers had long since lost feeling from the frigid rain. But he labored on, aware that the sky was growing darker and the storm grew worse. Only, he knew he was in trouble when he brought the shovel down hard and a sudden, sharp vibration shook through his entire body.
The edge of the shovel had struck a rock buried in the mud, snapping it into two pieces and bending the handle.
He stared down at the broken shovel for a moment. He was angry—furious actually. After all that work, after all the rain and the mud and the stress on his body—but he was too tired to curse, too tired to do anything but head back for the cab and crawl inside.
Water pooled everywhere. He struggled out of his jacket, tossing it onto the floor, and started up the truck, letting it idle until the engine warmed up. He'd been working so hard his body heat had kept him warm, but now that he had stopped, the cold was beginning to seep in and he started to shiver.
Once the engine had warmed, he flipped the switch, turning the heat on full blast. At first, the air shooting from the vents felt only a little better than the arctic wind outside, but gradually it heated and he began to warm up.
When he was warm enough to stop shivering, he picked up his coat and squeezed as much water out of it as he could, letting it puddle on the floorboard opposite him. The inside was still relatively dry and if he could get some of the moisture from the outside, it would help. He spread the jacket across the dash, allowing the heater vents to blast against the soggy fabric.
"Kristin?" he said, picking up the walkie-talkie. "You still there?"
There was a momentary pause, then her voice sounded through the speaker. "I'm here, Jake. Are you okay? Where are you?"
"I'm still stuck," he said, slipping his free hand under his coat and letting the heat from the vent warm it. "I'm going to have to just sit out the storm and hike back up to the station once it's over."
Night Talk Page 14