Mending Places

by Hunter, Denise

  He sighed deeply, then let his shoulders sag in relaxation.

  “Why don’t you tell me about your day?”

  “Not much to tell. Same old stuff.”

  She worked his neck with her fingers. “Do you remember the first time I wore this?”

  She took his grunt for a no.

  “It was on our honeymoon. Remember the night you were on the terrace overlooking the falls, and I came to the patio door? I still remember your words. You said, ‘I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.’ I thought you were talking about the falls at first.” She slipped her arms around his chest and pressed herself against his back. She kissed the tip of his ear while her hands roamed his chest.

  Suddenly he pulled her hands away and stood. “That felt great, thanks.”

  Her hope faltered again. “Come back to bed, Keith.” The request came out like a plea.

  “I told you, Nat, I’m tired. I just want to kick back and relax.” He started for the door.

  She scurried after him and turned him toward her. “How about taking a bath with me then. It’s been years since we’ve done that.” She slipped one hand in his and turned his face toward hers with the other. “Come on, Keith,” she coaxed, pulling his hand as she started toward the bathroom.

  He jerked his hand from hers. “No, Nat. I said I’m tired; now leave me alone!”

  She watched, shivering, as he left the room. Icy fingers of dread crept through her veins, freezing her to the core.

  He was cheating. He was being satisfied by someone else. Darts of pain pierced her heart at the thought. She covered her trembling lips with her fingers as a sob threatened to escape.

  Please, God, no. She slipped on one of Keith’s dress shirts and followed him into the living room. He lounged in his recliner, his face intent on the TV. She drew the two ends of the shirt together, suddenly feeling naked. “It’s true, isn’t it?” Her deadpan voice barely sounded over the TV. “Isn’t it?” she bit out.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “Who is she, Keith?”

  The animosity in his gaze didn’t impede her desire, her need, to know the truth.

  “I know there’s someone else; stop playing games with me!”

  His gaze returned to the screen.

  “Who is it?”

  A commercial came on, and he began surfing the channels.

  She grabbed the remote and flung it across the room. “Stop it! I want to know the truth! Why won’t you just say it? Say it, Keith!”

  He kicked in the footrest and stood. “Fine, it’s true! All right? There is someone else! Are you happy now?”

  His words sliced her whole being. As if a truckload of tar had been poured on her, she sunk to the floor and collapsed.

  Tears poured as a moan tore from her soul and pierced the air. Why? Why? Sobs, wrenched from the deepest part of her, erupted. Why God?

  “Who is it?” The words raked across her throat, sounding nothing like her own voice.

  Silence met her plea. She found the strength to lift her head. He wasn’t there. She pulled herself up and staggered through the house, when she reached the bedroom, she saw him. Putting on his shoes as if it was just another day. As if he weren’t betraying her. “Who is she?” She spewed the words with a bitterness she didn’t know she was capable of

  “You should know; you called her, didn’t you?”

  “Called her?” Nat’s mind spun at a dizzying speed. “That was Hanna, not me. Who is she? Why are you doing this? How could you do this?”

  He sprung off the bed and started past her.

  Malignant fury seized her. She grabbed his arm and spun him around, pummeling his chest with her fists. “Who is she?” She cursed, blinded by the vicious assault of emotions. “Tell me!”

  He grabbed her hands hard. “It’s over, Nat! Do you hear me, it’s over.”

  Terror surged through her, dark and overwhelming. “You don’t mean that.”

  He turned and walked to the living room, pocketing his wallet and keys.

  “Where are you going?” She followed, wiping at the wetness on her face.

  “To somebody who cares.”

  “I care!” She caught up with him and clutched his arms. “Can’t you see? I’ve been trying!”

  He shook her off “It’s too little, too late, Nat.” Then he opened the door to leave.

  “Don’t go!”

  The door slammed.

  “Don’t go!” She pounded the door, sliding weightlessly to the cold ceramic as sobs shook her frame. “Don’t go!”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Hanna pulled the sheet up around her shoulders and sighed. Sleep eluded her tonight, and it was no wonder. It seemed she had more problems than she could handle. Nat’s marriage problems weighed on her. Grams forgetfulness worried her. She’d seen enough TV programs on Alzheimer’s disease to know Gram had some of the symptoms. She needed to tell her dad. More importantly, she needed to convince Gram to make a doctor’s appointment.

  And then there were the cancellations. Another one had been called in today. As if the other concerns weren’t enough, she was also dealing with her own issues. Her mind flashed back to earlier in the evening when she’d taken a canoe out on the lake. Devon had been there, finishing up for the day, and had shown her to the red canoe. When she’d stepped down into it, her foot had slipped on the wet dock, and she’d nearly gone into the lake. But he’d reached out and grabbed her around the middle.

  She shuddered at the suffocating feel his grasp had provoked. From the time he’d grabbed her, she’d wanted loose, even if that meant falling into the lake, and it wasn’t just because he’d held her longer than necessary. Whether it was a shoe salesman or a hug at church, she was repelled by a man’s touch. When would she get over it?

  Lord, I feel so many burdens right now. Help me to give them over to You. Heal my spirit in the place that’s wounded. Make me ready for the day when You bring a man into my life. Prepare my heart and take away these feelings of fear, Lord.

  Hanna stopped and tied the laces of her hiking boots. Her muscles ached, but almost in a good way. She’d been inside too long. Out here, breathing the moist air laden with the scent of pine and creosote, she felt alive and refreshed. Despite the two layers of socks she’d put on that morning, she could already feel a blister forming on the back of her heel. She’d taken this trip many times with her grandfather but hadn’t gone since she was a teenager. And her body felt it. She hadn’t known she was in such sorry shape. The canoe trip to the base of the mountain was as much fun as she remembered, but the steep footpaths drained her of energy.

  They took frequent water breaks, more often than Hanna suspected was usual, since three adolescent Schaeffer boys were in the group. Their parents walked in front along with Micah, and she could hear him educating them about the wilderness and Grand Teton National Park. The boys trailed after them, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. Hanna, who rounded up the group, shook her head. Even through the sweaty, dirty climbs, the honeymooners had scarcely let go of one another.

  Occasionally, Micah would give the boys a pop quiz on safety or point out a tree, plant, or animal, challenging them to find another like it.

  Judging by her watch, dinnertime was nearing. She wondered how Gram and Mrs. Eddlestein were getting along. At church the previous day, Hanna had talked to her dad about Gram. His face had sobered when she told him of his mom’s forgetfulness, but he’d admitted he’d seen the signs also. They’d had lunch together with Paula, and he’d talked with Gram about scheduling an appointment with the doctor.

  Hanna had thought she would put up a fuss. Her easy acquiescence left Hanna thinking that Gram had been concerned about her behavior too. She didn’t even want to think about a possible diagnosis of Alzheimer’s. An elderly man at church had it, and she saw his wife dealing with the final stages. So sad. Please, Lord, help the doctor to get to the bottom of this. If it is Alzheimer’s, I pray that You d give us the strength to cope.

&nbs
p; Later that night they settled at the deserted CMC campsite. Micah explained to the campers that the campsite was named after the Chicago Mountaineering Club, the first group to ascend Mount Moran in 1941. He began supper, cooking chipped beef and gravy over the propane stove while Hanna combined powdered milk and water with an instant pudding mix and set it in the shallow edge of the spring to set. The campers struggled to set up their A-frame tents. Hanna and Micah laughed when the boys’ tent collapsed on them, then Hanna went to help.

  After dinner Micah showed them how to use biodegradable soap and a scrub pad to scour the pots and utensils. By the time they’d cleaned up, the pudding was set, and they ate it as they watched the sun slip over the horizon.

  After dessert Hanna removed her boots and socks. The red spot on her heel burned hot, but the blister had already burst.

  “Blisters?” Micah had sneaked up behind her.

  “So much for two pairs of socks.”

  “You might want to wash it off.” He dug the first-aid kit from his backpack and knelt down beside her. “Ever used moleskin?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds gross.”

  He cut a circle from the material while she washed her heel with the leftover water and soap, then she returned to her log. Turning her heel out, she showed him the sore spot, and he cut a smaller hole in the center of the circle, making a donut shape. Hanna felt awkward letting him treat her sweaty feet, but consoled herself that no one else smelled any better than she did.

  Micah peeled off the plastic backing and placed the moleskin on her heel, pressing hard to ensure a tight grip. His hands felt cool on her warm feet. “This should keep the friction off. If you develop another sore spot tomorrow, let me know, and I can treat it before a blister forms.”

  She smiled her thanks, then he went to doctor one of the boys’ blisters.

  Hanna didn’t know about everyone else, but fatigue began to claim her body once she finally relaxed. Micah prepared a fire as dusk settled quickly around them. The adults discussed their hometowns and occupations while the boys talked among themselves, mostly about girls, from what Hanna could gather. The Thompsons cuddled up on a log, sharing secret glances and whispers.

  When darkness covered the land and the fire crackled with life, Hanna fished in her backpack for the marshmallows she’d brought.

  “Anyone for roasted marshmallows?”

  The youngest boy’s eyes lit up, but his parents announced it was time for all of them to turn in.

  Groans and complaints sounded, but Mr. Schaeffer reminded them they’d be rising at dawn, and that seemed to smother further argument.

  Hanna and Micah said good night as the Thompsons rose, arm and arm, and announced they were retiring too.

  The night air, already abuzz with crickets and cicadas, was filled with the zipping of tent flaps and the rumble of muted conversation.

  Hanna found a long, skinny stick, slipped two marshmallows on the end, and held it out over the fire with Micah’s.

  The heat warmed her face and arms, and she slipped out of her light jacket.

  “It’s burning,” Micah said from across the fire.

  She pulled it out and blew at the flames. “Actually, I like them burned.” She pulled off a gooey, char-crusted confection and tasted. “Umm. It’s been years since I’ve had roasted marshmallows.”

  “Too bad we don’t have some chocolate and graham crackers.”

  She gave him a mock glare. “Don’t even get me going.”

  The first ones tasted so good, she thought she could eat half the bag, but by the time she’d had four, the sweet taste had grown old.

  “I think I’ll turn in now,” she said. “Want me to help put out the fire?”

  “No, you go on. I’m going to stay up a bit longer.”

  Taking her flashlight, she slipped into the pup tent and unrolled her sleeping bag. She settled into it, then grabbed her clothing bag and flattened it for a pillow. Night sounds seeped through the tent fabric, lulling her mind and her already-weary body. She left the flashlight on, flipping it upside down, then turned to her back.

  Thank You, Lord, for the beauty of nature. Thank You for Your protection and provision. She closed her eyes, and moments later she succumbed to the beckoning call of sleep.

  The next morning Hanna woke to the faint light of dawn. She pulled the bag up over her shoulders, seeking warmth in the crisp morning air and longing for the jacket she’d taken off by the fire the previous night. She used to sleep soundly on these trips with her grandfather, but last night she’d tossed and turned, trying to find a soft spot. It seemed the ground had gotten harder over the years.

  She sat up and stretched, rolling her shoulders around and tilting her head to each side. Silence permeated the campsite, and she thought she must be the first one up. But when she pulled back the flap, she saw Micah sitting on a log reading a book. On closer observation she realized it was a Bible, a little New Testament. She’d known he went to church on Sundays and said grace before he ate, but watching him in his quiet time with God stirred her heart.

  Micah closed the Bible and knelt on the ground, propping his forearm on one knee, his head bowed in reverence. Something about seeing such a masculine man submitting himself to God affected her in a powerful way.

  She remembered her dream, and suddenly it didn’t seem so absurd anymore. In fact, it seemed … intriguing.

  She dropped the tent flap and fell back on her heels. She’d been asking God to prepare her heart for her chosen mate. Could it be that it was Micah?

  But I’m not ready for this, God.

  And he works for me. He’s my employee, Lord.

  Not to mention he’d never given any indication that he was attracted to her.

  The excuses fell silently around her. She sighed quietly. Well, if this is Your willy God, maybe You’d better let him in on it too.

  After a breakfast made with dehydrated hash browns and sausage, the group tore down camp and started toward the summit. Hanna’s gaze repeatedly found Micah’s back as he led the group. He’d proven his expertise on the job, and now she found herself admiring his strong faith. Is he the one, Lord? Maybe she was just imagining it all.

  And if he was what God wanted for her, how did she go about getting it… er, him? She’d never been the aggressive type and had no desire to start now.

  She glanced at him again, watching as he helped the youngest teen across a crevasse in the rocks. His biceps bulged under his T-shirt as he caught the boy.

  When she reached the fissure, he waited on the other side for her, his arms outstretched. “Ready?”

  She nodded, then jumped, and he caught her in his arms. A quiver of pleasure rippled through her stomach. She met his gaze, felt his warm breath on her forehead, then flushed at the intense look in his smoky eyes. Slowly, she slid from his embrace, still feeling the heat of his gaze. “Thanks,” she said, avoiding his eyes, certain he would be able to read her heart.

  Hanna watched as he jogged to the front of the group. When she’d been in his arms, she’d felt no repulsion. To the contrary, she’d wanted to stay there longer. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d wanted her to stay as well. Okay, God, maybe You do know what You’re doing. Hanna breathed a laugh. Of course, God knew what He was doing. He’d made all these awesome mountains; surely He could handle a little thing like her love life.

  By midmorning, rivulets of perspiration ran down her temples. With a vigorous workout like this, she wondered why Micah felt he needed to jog every day. She knew from experience this second day was the most wearing part of the climb, but also the most exciting part, as she was always driven with eagerness to reach the summit. The footpaths grew steeper and claimed her undivided attention.

  When they neared Half Dome, their pace slowed as they faced climbing the slabs. Micah handled the group with the aptitude of someone who’d done this many times. As for Hanna, the last part of the climb seemed much steeper and longer than it had when she was younger.


  By the time they reached the summit, it was well past lunchtime. Once they’d all admired the impressive view, they sat down and replenished their energy. After the meal the family of five and the newlyweds posed for pictures with the majestic view in the background. The whipping wind tugged on Hanna’s ponytail and shirt, cooling her off. Micah hurried the group, reminding them they had to make it back to the CMC site before dark.

  The descent was easier and provided a beautiful view. When they reached the campsite, they repeated last night’s rituals, and soon they were relaxing around a campfire while darkness closed in around them. All the water Hanna had drunk during dinner was having its effect, and nature’s call beckoned. The area outside of the fire’s light was an ambiguous black hole. Why hadn’t she thought to go before night fell?

  For a moment she considered asking the ladies if one of them needed to go, but decided against it when she realized they might think she was afraid of the dark.

  She slipped quietly away, flicking on her flashlight when she reached the shadowed edge of the campsite. As dark as it was, she wouldn’t have to go far, at least. Leaves and gravel crunched under her feet. Insects ceased their chirping as she invaded their space. Off in the distance, an owl hooted. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. Mentally, she knew there was nothing out there, but the vast darkness beyond the ring of the flashlight terrified her. When she finished, she scurried back to camp, then settled once again on her log, waiting for her heart to settle.

  The Thompsons turned in, followed by the Schaeffers. Once again, she and Micah were left alone at the fire.

  Hanna brought out the marshmallows. “Want some?”

  “Sure.”

  They found sticks and began skewering them. It took Micah twice as long to roast his because he held it above the flames, rotating it until it was golden brown. He teased her about her preference for charred marshmallows, and when one of his caught fire, he brought it to her.