Twin Turmoil

by Vanessa Brooks

  "Great!" I grumped aloud. I turned at looked at Liam but, thankfully, he was breathing normally and looked fairly peaceful. There was no way I could sleep. Someone had to keep a look out. A little while later what did I do in the face of adversity? Promptly fell asleep.

  *****

  When I awoke it was twilight. Where the devil was Jules? Pieces of fluff were dusting my face. Drowsily I lifted a hand and brushed away what I thought were threads of cobweb or something. My hand encountered tiny, icy wet droplets of snow. Looking up at the sky I saw it was heavy with deep grey-mauve clouds. I glanced at Liam; he hadn't moved. Reaching out a hand I felt his brow. He was cold but underneath the blankets he felt warm. At least he was still alive. My gaze moved down the slope, into the shadows between the tall dark trees. So secret and threatening, creatures could lurk within their dark, sinister protection. I shuddered and spoke aloud, trying to dispel the silent eeriness surrounding me. "Just great, here I am, just survived an attempt to strangle me and now I'm about to die of exposure in the wilderness. Well I tell you what, I won't die... do you hear that, you evil things in the forest! I. Will. Not. Die. Here!" The last note of my shout fell like a falling stone into the muffled silence. The snow was falling thick and fast now and I felt very alone. I glanced down again at Liam and was startled to find his eyes were open and he was staring up at me.

  Chapter Nine - Discipline

  "Oh gosh, Liam, how d'you feel… okay?" I asked, delighted to see him awake. I wondered if he had heard my strange outburst.

  "My head's aching real bad," he groaned, "what happened?"

  "A car came round the bend on the wrong side of the road and you had to swerve to avoid it. The truck went over the edge, luckily we didn't roll over. You've been unconscious for a few hours." When he tried to move, I stopped him. "No! You must keep still! Do you hurt anywhere else?"

  He thought about that for a moment. "No. Only my head… is it… snowing?"

  "Yes," I said, nodding.

  Despite my protests, Liam pulled himself up to a sitting position. He looked around. "Where's Jules? Damn… she's not dead?"

  "No, no, she's gone to Jim's to fetch help," I reassured him.

  "What's the time?" he asked.

  I looked at my watch, "Five twenty-five."

  "What time did she leave?"

  "About three o'clock, I should think. She will be back very soon." I hoped that I sounded convincing.

  "We have to find shelter, this snow could be bad. The weather forecast said the fall would be heavy later tonight."

  I stared at him and my blood ran cold. "You knew it was going to snow but you still bought us up here?"

  "It wasn't supposed to snow until much later on. I figured we had time to get there and back before it started."

  Could I trust him? Surely any sane person knowing that bad weather was on the way, would cancel their plans to travel unless it was urgent? It seemed that here in America, people dealt with bad weather more optimistically than in England. There, even the threat of a little snow seemed to paralyse the country.

  "Help me up, Claire." Liam tried to stand. I shook my head.

  "I don't think we should move from here," I said firmly. "Jules said to stay put and that you shouldn't move."

  Liam looked at me and sighed. "Listen, if she left here at three she might not have even arrived at Jim's yet. Another two hours of this snow and we could be as good as dead. Now be a good girl and help me up." I dithered, still not trusting him.

  "Claire!" he snapped, "come on now, do as I ask!"

  I scrabbled up and hastily scrambled away from him. He looked most surprised and then gave me a lopsided grin. "I didn't realise I was such an ogre!"

  I looked uneasily at him. He shook his head at me and then threw off the blankets. Slowly and unsteadily he climbed to his feet. He swayed alarmingly and I hurried to his side to steady him, putting my fears aside. "Thank you," he muttered. He placed an arm over my shoulder and leant on me. We stood that way for a couple of moments, allowing him to adjust to being upright. "Okay so here's the deal, there's a fire hut somewhere north of here as I recall… we should make for that and shelter there overnight."

  "Liam, I really think we should stay right here, Jules might not find us otherwise."

  "Think, girl. The weather could delay any rescue until tomorrow, by then we could be dead. No, Claire, we need to find shelter and now. Have you a pen and paper in your bag?"

  I understood straight away. "We can leave a note!" I exclaimed happily.

  "Quite right," he nodded and I grinned back. "Well?" he asked, as I continued to stand grinning at him like a dolt.

  "Oh, oh yes, let me look," I said, feeling foolish. I fumbled about amongst the detritus in my bag; I found my, or rather Claire's, address book and a pen. I tore out a page and leaning on the truck, I wrote the note in capital letters: 'JULES WE HAVE GONE TO A FIRE HUT FOR SHELTER. LIAM IS AWAKE. HE SAYS IT IS NORTH OF HERE. LOVE 'N.'—oh, stupid. I scribbled out the 'N' hastily and wrote 'CLAIRE.' I glanced over to Liam and realised he had read the note as I wrote it. He didn't seem to notice the oddness of the scribbled out 'N'. He pointed to a large stone, I picked it up and placed the note on the front seat of the truck with the stone on top to anchor it. Then in case it was overlooked, I took out a red lipstick from my bag and drew a large cross on the side window, which had miraculously survived the crash.

  Liam nodded approvingly. "Good idea, now fold the tarp and blankets, we'll need 'em." I did as he bid and also took the bag with the coffee and rolls.

  When we were ready, Liam turned and walked slowly north past the pickup. I followed on behind, burdened with the heavy tarpaulin and the two blankets which kept slipping down my arms. The snow fell thickly and had begun to cover the ground white. The muffled silence engulfed me and made the situation we were in seem somehow surreal. We plodded onwards for about half an hour. The swirling snow danced dizzily in front of my eyes and made the going difficult and it was impossible to see very far ahead.

  Liam stopped and looked around, "I think we turn away from the track about now and head down away into the trees."

  I shifted my feet uneasily. "Is that wise?" I asked, remembering my earlier fears. Liam ignored me and began to trudge down toward the trees. I hung back but he soon realised I wasn't with him and turned around looking for me.

  "Come on," he called, his voice sounded oddly flat and muffled by the falling snow. I stood and stared at him, uncertain. He muttered softly to himself and trudged back up to me; I stood still waiting for him. He stopped in front of me and studied my face. I looked down at my feet. "What is it?" he asked patiently. I didn't know what to say. I mean I couldn't just ask him straight up, 'Are you going to kill me' now could I? He reached out both hands and I flinched. He grasped my shoulders firmly. "What is it that you are so afraid of, Claire?"

  I didn't reply.

  "Okay, look I'm not about to hurt you, although if I were feeling a bit stronger I might be tempted to fling you over my shoulder and carry you. I can't understand why you're being so stubborn." My eyes flew up to his, startled. "Don't you worry, I'm too weak to carry you right now." He gave me a half smile.

  "Yeah, very funny, big man. For your information I am just wary in case we both end up bloody lost out here!" I hissed crossly.

  Liam chuckled. "Wow, temper, temper, little one."

  "Shut the hell up, will you!"

  "I call that strike two," Liam said calmly. I pulled away from him and stomped off down in the direction he'd indicated towards the trees. My heart beat a fast tattoo and I wondered if he had meant what he said about carrying me. Who did he think he was anyway, Tarzan? I sneered. I wasn't looking where I was going and tripped over a prominent tree root, landing flat on my face in the freezing cold snow. The tarpaulin and blankets broke my fall and it was only my pride that was damaged. Liam held out his hand to help me up, a big grin plastered across his face. Childishly I slapped his hand away and got up on my own, glaring at him.<
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  "Best not forget that I'm trained to deal with little brats like you!" He grinned and winked cheerfully, walking on ahead of me. I tossed my hair out of my eyes and gathered up the load, trudging after him furiously. It was almost dark and I was beginning to think that we were well and truly lost, when Liam gave a shout and waved his arm, pointing ahead into the darkness. I looked and could just make out the angular shape of a small building through the snow. It was the size of a large sized garden shed. Once inside it still struck me as being really cold and it was very dark. Liam went in first and I stood peering in through the doorway. He rummaged about and then a small light appeared; he had lit a candle. "Come on in, darlin'." He flung his arm in an arc of welcome; I didn't hesitate, I was beyond cold. Inside I took a quick look around; I could see the hut was made of wood with a metal corrugated roof. There was a single metal bed with a grubby mattress against one wall. Two chairs stood at the end of the hut, one of them only had three legs. A small black wood-burning stove was set into the wall opposite the bed. There was a sink and a single tap at the top end opposite the door. I went to the bed and put the tarpaulin over the mattress and the blankets on top. That done I turned to look at Liam. He was as white as a sheet and I realised he was completely done in, all bravado gone. I helped him to the bed and after he lay down, I covered him with the blankets. He thanked me and closed his eyes saying, "Get the stove going if you can. There should be kindling outside, someplace out back." Outside, large flakes of snow were falling fast and already carpeting the frozen ground. I found wood stacked up behind the back of the cabin and fetched in three loads, packing the stove tightly. There was a cupboard under the sink and I looked inside hoping to find some matches. I found a saucepan, a frying pan, two mugs, oddly only one plate but no matches.

  There was an old bottle of nasty looking dark green stuff, which on closer inspection, turned out to be washing-up-liquid. There was also an extremely ancient box of tea.

  I suddenly remembered that Liam had lit a candle when we arrived, so he must have matches on him. He appeared to have fallen asleep and I watched him for a few moments to be sure he was breathing slowly and deeply. I went over to the bed and lifted the blankets. Carefully I slid my hand over his hip pocket, the one nearest to me. No matches there. I stretched down and across him to his other side and bingo, matches. Slowly I tried to slide my hand into his pocket. A hand clamped across my wrist and I gave a startled squeal.

  "What are you up to?" Liam growled.

  "Matches," I squeaked. He let me go, put his hand into his pocket and wriggled around a bit before handing me a book of matches.

  "You only had to ask," he said.

  "I thought you were asleep," I told him crossly.

  "I was," he said, closing his eyes again. I let out my breath and turned my attention to the fire. Now as you know, in a movie it only takes a second for the hero or heroine to light a fire. Within seconds they have bright flames roaring away. Well, let me tell you, in reality it is not so easy. I spent nearly an hour trying to light the damn fire, putting wood in, taking wood out again, then re-adding to it. I trudged in and out fetching little bits of dry bark from the pile outside and scrunching up a few old dry leaves but all to no avail. Then, just as I was about to give up, because, no it would not catch light, Liam woke up. He got up and lit it and wouldn't you just know it, the damn thing started to burn brightly. I sulked; Liam laughed.

  We boiled water and added it to the coffee in the flask. It was weak but not bad, at least it was hot. We ate the rolls too and finished up sharing a bar of chocolate. Then I went outside, to do what a girl's gotta do. Liam made the trip on my return. I was sitting primly on a chair in front of the stove when he got back. "Time for bed, Claire," he said.

  I blushed to the roots of my hair. "Umm no, that's okay, you take the bed, I'm fine right here," I told him brightly.

  I heard a deep sigh behind me but I wasn't prepared to be scooped up and carried to the bed. I started to squeal and gabble excuses but he growled, "Be quiet, woman and don't be so damn stupid, you can't sit there all night, you'll freeze." He laid me on the bed and sat down, trapping me next to the wall. "Don't worry, I promise not to molest you, never yet had to force a woman to bed with me y'know." He flashed me a grin, then frowned and looked serious. "Hey, you really are scared... I swear I won't hurt you, Claire. I'm a traditional sort of fella when it comes to protecting a woman and I admit that I might spank one but I'd never harm one, believe me."

  No! I thought. But "Yes," is I what I said.

  "Liar," he smiled and his eyes glinted with the colour and warmth of good rye whiskey. "Then, budge over, lady!" He folded himself down next to me and drew me to him, pulling the blankets over us both. I was tense. After a few embarrassing moments he cleared his throat. "Look, hon', I don't know precisely what is going on but I know something is not right with you since your accident but I just want to say that you can count on me, Claire, all right?" I didn't reply. I didn't know what on earth to say. "Claire...or whatever your name is."

  I stiffened, "What?" I hissed sharply with shock. Oh my god he knew!

  "Nothin', go to sleep, kitten, you're safe with me." I swear he kissed my hair. I lay awake a long time listening to Liam's even breathing. I knew when he awoke because the deep repetitive breaths changed, they were lighter.

  "Liam?" I whispered.

  "Mmm?" He was awake.

  "How did you come to work for my father?" I asked.

  "My folks had a spread, as I told you, in Wyoming. They knew your pa way, way back. When my pa died…"

  I sucked in my breath. "I'm sorry."

  "Yeah well, it happens. He had a stroke, died three months later. My mom tried to run things for a while; I was… not much help. Anyways, she sold the place eventually. She moved to her sister's in Denver." He fell silent.

  "Did you visit us at all, I don't recall?' I was worried, I should know and hoped my 'accident' would cover any blunders I made here.

  "Nah, my mom met your pa by accident a few years ago. She filled him in with our sad tale and he offered me a job. I jumped at the chance of working on a ranch, being around horses again. Using my psychology to help troubled girls and the odd boy, it was the icing on the cake for me an' I took the opportunity on offer. I owe your pa a lot you know."

  "Don't you, um, find doling out discipline to the kids an awkward thing to do?" I rushed on, my face burning, "I mean don't the parents complain?"

  Liam cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Hmm, well, most of the time I interview the kids and their folks before they come to the ranch. I go visit them in their own homes and discuss the kid's conduct to date and the parent's expectations for their child's behaviour in the future—you'd be surprised how many parents see normal teenage behaviour as abnormal. The whole family is talked through the discipline package before they sign a consent form. Then I decide if I want to take the kid, based on whether I think they can be rehabilitated or not. When a teen leaves the ranch after six weeks, they are presented with a paddle that they have helped to carve a chosen homily on. They get to take it home with them. In my follow up call to the parents, usually three weeks after the teen leaves us, I occasionally find parents have used the paddles to straighten their kids out back home. You know, in my experience, there are no 'bad' kids, just damaged kids and sick kids but mostly it's just a case of bad parenting. No boundaries set or too high an expectation perhaps with learning at school, y'know?"

  I bristled. "Hey, but that's not fair. In that case, you could blame Mr. and Mrs. Hitler for what their son did to Europe!"

  Liam chuckled. "Well now, y'all know they say the worst mistake in recent years was when Mr. Hitler suggested an early night to his Mrs. on the night of Adolf's conception!"

  Laughing despite myself, I shoved him with my elbow. "That's a terrible joke; don't let me hear you tell it again!"

  "Do you think we should hire more trained staff to help take on more kids? There seems to be a lot
of dysfunctional families out there and I can see this becoming a much needed support," Liam asked.

  "What is the highest number at any one time that you feel comfortable dealing with?"

  "Well, after my experience with young Kate, I prefer a one-to-one approach."

  Kate at the ranch...? I was caught off guard. "Remind me," I said, warily.

  "Oh yeah, you were still at college back then, you probably don't remember what an ornery critter little Kate was when she first came to us. We had three girls that summer and Kate was the worst of all three. She lived with her grandparents—she'd lost both her parents. Her father died of a work related accident in a steel works and then her mother died from cancer a few years later, a rough deal for a small girl. Kate needed one-to-one care but I was spread too thin. She was the only one of the three girls that summer who got paddled on a regular basis. She took off once on Sasha, surely you remember that?"

  "Mm—hmm." I nodded an affirmative.

  "Anyway, all 'water under the bridge' now. I mean look how well Kate turned out! She's just great at helping me out in the bunkhouse with those 'terrible teens', she's turned her whole life around, a real success story!"

  Hmm, I was not so sure, food for thought.

  I decided to change the subject. "What about your photography?" I was so intrigued by those fabulous photographs.

  "That was a college course I didn't finish. I guess I was too young to know what a jerk I was dumping photography… but you know I have never regretted it. I love my work.

  I'll just bet you do—spanking all those naughty bottoms! Stop it—Stop it right now! What the hell was wrong with me?

  "I love photography too. I can even process my own prints, I…" I stopped, flustered. Foolishly, I had been about to tell him about my dark room, my love of film and media. I had forgotten that Claire had no such passion.

  "I didn't know you could process. You're good with a camera though, those shots you took at your pa's party last year were real good."