The Sword of Ruth: The Story of Jesus' Little Sister

by V. M. Franck

A crystalline sky capped Timberline Lodge as I pulled into a parking space close to the corrugated tunnel leading to the front door. Grateful to the god of parking spaces, I hurried inside and checked in.

  The entire morning had a good feel to it. Tad wouldn't arrive until dinner. I had the complete day to myself. Once in the room, humming to myself I tugged on my ski boots, returned to the car and removed my skis and poles from the rack.

  The clear sky was gone. Snowflakes flitted by. Whitened treetops peered above the rim of the parking lot.

  I paused to reflect whether I really wanted to go, now that it was snowing. Skiing in a whiteout had no appeal. Still, I had learned to ski so I could enjoy nature in winter. It was all about oneness with the trees, the sky and Earth Mother, the way Grandma White Bear had taught me.

  Down the hill at the day lodge I purchased a lift ticket. Braiding my hair, I tucked it inside my jacket and pulled on the hat Grandma Duval had knitted for me right before she died. I could still see her arthritic fingers struggling with needles and yarn. I could see her stop to rub out the pain and return to task. She was a good woman, in spite her obsession with church.

  Back outside, I noticed clouds had settled further onto the treetops. I stepped into my skis, made sure the bindings worked and snow-plowed to the closest run.

  Midweek, the slopes were mostly empty. It was the best time. Most of the hot-doggers were in school. The previous season a kid on a snowboard had clipped the end of my skis and sent me tumbling. Checking my position, making sure I was balanced correctly, I glanced uphill, pushed out onto the slope and in moments mastered the parallel stance. The swish of the skis against the snow, the breeze on my cheeks, the clear, clean air--the entire feeling of being there slipped inside of me.

  Yes, I needed this.

  The steepest part of the run was near the bottom. Since it was often pitted with moguls, I stopped at the top to peruse the damage. Only one person was stalled on the slope. Below, three more worked their way across the semi-flat area to the lift.

  I began my decent in a crisscross pattern. I had taken a number of nasty falls on this section. The first time down was about gaining confidence. Deciding it was going well, I straightened my decent. A blizzard set down over me, whiting out everything. I hit a bump and sailed through oblivion in a rush of exhilaration and fear.

  My face and left shoulder hit the snow first, followed by the ends of the skis, my waist and lower body. Lifting my face out of the snow I opened my eyes to white. Disoriented, I untwisted myself and started sliding. At least I knew which way was down. I bounced and thudded, ramming my head into what was probably a boulder.

  "Ouch. Shit."

  Deciding not to move until I could see something, anything, I waited. The blizzard eased. In moments I spied my legs and skis. I untangled them and sat up. I was about to stand when I spotted a red pouch tucked against the boulder. Another cloud was descending. Quickly, I unzipped the small purse-like container. Only one item was inside--a small ivory Buddha the size of a pendant. A flower had been carved into his tummy.

  I stuffed the pouch into my pocket and headed to the lift. Halfway up, the snow began again. I floated through the white blanket to the top and exited the lift blind, slid off the ramp and waited until the blizzard cleared enough for me to see the day lodge. Sore and bunged up, after checking my skis with an attendant, I hobbled to Lost and Found and waited for the clerk to finish with the man in front of me.

  He said to her, "It's a small red pack, a little larger than a billfold. The only thing it had in it was a white pendant of the Buddha. It belonged to my mother. I wear it for good luck. This morning the chain broke, so I put it in the pack. I can't believe I lost it."

  I stepped up beside him and said, "This must be it."

  "Ah darlin', bless you." The man gave me an all-over-the-face smile. He was old enough to be my father and appeared quite rotund in his red ski outfit.

  "Thank you, Marcy," he said to the clerk.

  "Now, darlin'," he said to me, "what say I buy you a drink and figure out how I can repay you."

  "You don't owe..."

  "Ah, but I do. No one can ever say that Zak McClintock doesn't pay his debts."

  "You're Zak?"

  "You've heard of me. Such is the price. My pappy always said you should be nice to those who are nice to you. And, by cracky, my pappy wasn't wrong. Can I get your name, little lady?" he said, guiding me up a wide, open stairway.

  Unlike the charming main lodge, built during the Roosevelt era, the day lodge had the aesthetic appeal of a parking structure.

  "Raven Duval."

  "The Raven Duval?"

  "You've heard of me, too?" It still gave me a rush even though my work had been well-known for some time.

  "I have one of your paintings in my office, down home, darlin'. I bought it from a classy joint on the upper side of town. It's the painting of an eagle with the face of an old woman. It inspires me to achieve the impossible."

  "Cool."

  We clumped our way to the bar.

  "What's your pleasure?" he asked.

  "Hot spiced wine."

  "Make that two hot spiced wines," he said to the bartender. He guided me to a table overlooking the stairs.

  "I'm mighty pleased to meet you, mighty pleased, Ms. Raven. Makes me glad I changed my plans. I was in Bend at a conference. Boring as hell, those things are. Turns out the deal I was trying to finagle had no chance whatsoever. So I thought, 'What the hell? Why not ski Hood instead of Bachelor.' Never did like going with the crowd. It's a dead end."

  "That's my feeling. Of course, lots of times that means I end up alone."

  "Alone can be a good thing, my pappy always said."

  "My fella is in Bend at the Mt. Bachelor's Real Estate Conference today. Apparently you know him."

  "What's his name? I wouldn't want to infringe."

  "Tad Johansen."

  "Ah, Tad. Good guy. Good guy. If I could just talk him into.... Oh, well, when it's time, when it's time. Well, I say, little lady, Tad's one lucky fella to have a lady like you. One lucky fella. I've had me three wives. All three of them were money grubbers. Couldn't abide it, so I gave up the marriage game. These days I just go for good company."

  A waiter brought our drinks.

  Zak took a sip and said, "I've got to tell you what the pendant means to me and why this is the most important day of your life."

  His cell phone rang. "I didn't think I'd be able to get anything up here. Hello, William. Oh, I see. Crap. I'll meet you in an hour and a half at The Hearthside in Gresham." He hung up. "Sorry, Raven, one of my deals just went to shit. Give me your address, and I'll send you a reward."

  "No, that's okay."

  "You sure?"

  "Positive."

  "Well, this isn't the end of it. Zak McClintock always pays his debts. Someday, somehow, I will do just that."

  Chapter 2