Last Resort

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by Hannah Alexander


  Ten years ago, Noelle and Jill had lost their father and grandparents in an accident at the sawmill when a load of cedar logs had fallen off a flatbed truck, crushing them. Four years later, Cecil’s wife—Justin and Carissa’s mother—had suddenly left home, abandoning her family. Two years ago, a tornado had ripped through Cedar Hollow, barely sparing the homes and sawmill. Some people said Cedar Hollow was cursed. Sometimes, Noelle agreed.

  From her peripheral vision, Noelle saw Nathan give her a brief glance. “You’ve lost weight,” he said.

  “Thank you for noticing.”

  “Haven’t been eating?”

  She shook her head. “I needed to lose the weight anyway, but I guess I’ve been a little on edge the past couple of weeks, what with Joel back in town.”

  There was an expressive silence, and she could have bitten her tongue. Apparently, Jill hadn’t shared that tidbit with Nathan.

  “You didn’t tell me.” There was a note of accusation in his voice.

  She felt an uncomfortable nudge of guilt. She reminded herself firmly that there was no reason to feel guilty. “Now you’re beginning to sound like Jill.”

  “Okay, let me make sure I’m clear on this.” His voice bit with a hint of sarcasm. “Your ex-husband—who has proven in the past to be violent—has suddenly reappeared in Springfield. You’re nervous enough about it that you’ve lost your appetite, yet you don’t think it’s reasonable for anyone to become concerned?”

  “I’m simply saying I don’t need more than one person overreacting to the crises in my life. I’m capable of taking care of them myself.” Okay, maybe she was overreacting. Yes, she and Nathan had renewed their friendship, and she valued that friendship highly, but she was answerable to no one but herself. These past few years of independence had given Noelle a sweet taste of freedom. She intended to guard that freedom with everything she had.

  She glanced at Nathan’s profile, the even features, the high forehead, and resisted a pang of chagrin at the concern in his expression. “I’m telling you now, okay? And yes, I’ve lost some sleep over it. I just don’t think anyone else should have to worry.” Especially since she had landed herself in this mess to begin with. She didn’t intend to drag friends and family into the ugly aftermath of her past mistakes.

  “Has he tried to contact you?”

  She hesitated. “Let’s just say he’s made sure I know he’s back.”

  “Please don’t tell me he knows where you’re living now.”

  “He could easily find out if he wanted to, but he’s been coming into the store the past couple of weeks.”

  Nathan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “He’s been coming in? As in, more than once?”

  “Twice when I was working, but he always purchased things, so it isn’t as if he’s harassing me.”

  “Has he said anything to you?”

  “He barely looked at me.” Okay, so it wasn’t completely objectionable to have Nathan concerned about her welfare.

  “Do you think he’s up to something?”

  “I can’t tell. Six years ago I was able to read him and know when to expect an outburst, but he’s been gone a long time. Now we’re strangers, and I don’t know what to expect.”

  They rode in silence for a moment. During the divorce proceedings, which had been drawn out for eighteen excruciating months, Noelle had received several threats from Joel, along with a broken windshield. There had also been numerous anonymous telephone calls to her place of employment, where she’d worked as a nurse for a pediatric group, calls that ultimately had resulted in the loss of her job when the harassment had become too intense—Missouri’s status as a “right to fire” state hadn’t helped. Three of the five physicians in the group had requested her termination, with no reason needed.

  Because of her past work record, she’d found it impossible to find another nursing position, which was her own fault. Testing positive for methamphetamines had cast an indelible smudge on her reputation, though she hadn’t touched drugs again. She only wished she’d never taken those pills the first time, had never fallen for Joel’s promise that they would “keep her alert.”

  The situation with Joel had become so frightening that she’d requested a restraining order. She hadn’t received one, because she couldn’t prove her estranged husband was the culprit. During the final six months before the divorce hearing, she’d gone home to Hideaway and stayed with Jill. And her concerned older sister had stepped back into her “mommy” role, to the point of insisting that Noelle eat three healthy meals a day and attend church twice a week. It was then that Noelle had begun to seek God’s direction in earnest, for the first time in many years.

  “You don’t think Joel’s sudden reappearance could have anything to do with Carissa’s disappearance, do you?” Nathan asked.

  Noelle looked at him, startled. “Like what?”

  “Would kidnapping be out of the question?”

  “Kidnapping!”

  “At this point I don’t know, but having met Joel a few times, and knowing what he’s done to you in the past, I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility. From all accounts, he’s a vindictive scoundrel who should be rotting behind bars.”

  She blinked at him, startled by his adamancy. “But Carissa? After six years? I don’t think that’s likely.” And yet, what if…?

  She glanced at Nathan’s profile again. Nathan Trask had a kind nature, which was obvious in his expression, in the laugh lines around his eyes. He was also an attractive man, with a high, broad forehead, dark-green eyes, dark-brown hair that he kept short and combed back. Right now, his usual five o’clock shadow had nearly become a beard, and his facial lines were ones of weariness. He had good reason to be cranky.

  “Maybe I should be driving,” she said.

  “I’m okay. The coffee helped.”

  Sitting back, she tried to relax, and again thought about last night. She shivered.

  “Cold?” Nathan reached toward the console for the heat dial.

  “I’m…fine.” She folded her arms over her chest and tried to let the passing roadside beauty calm her—the bright yellow splashes of goldenrod against the deep red of autumn sumac, highlighted by sprays of purple asters.

  It was no use. Her mind wouldn’t stop whirling with questions.

  “Noelle?” Nathan said at last.

  “Hmm?”

  “What else is going on with you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

  She gave him a look of aggravation. Nathan Trask had always possessed an irritating ability to read her mind. “Why would you say—”

  “Just tell me, okay? I’m not in the mood to dig it out of you.”

  “Okay, fine.” He really was a grump today. And she shouldn’t be saying this. It would only invite more questions and cause more worry. Could she trust him not to share too much with Jill? “It’s nothing, really. I had a little episode last night, probably from low blood sugar, since I haven’t been eating a lot, and didn’t—”

  “What kind of episode?”

  She had his complete attention now. “Watch the road, would you?”

  “I’m watching the road. Tell me what happened.”

  Rats. She knew he’d get upset. For a few more seconds she stared out at the colorful roadside. Like Jill, Nathan had the “older sibling” complex. He tended to be bossy, and from the time the first of his two younger sisters was born, he had also tried to boss Noelle even though she was his age, and a neighbor rather than a sibling. She’d established her boundaries with him when she was about five. She didn’t intend to have to do so again.

  Still, it wasn’t totally disagreeable to have Nathan so concerned about her.

  “Okay,” he conceded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. What happened? How did you feel?”

  “I felt very concerned for no reason,” she said, then glanced at him to make sure he was watching the road again. “You
know how it is when something occurs to you, that seems so real, as though God has spoken?”

  He glanced at her again. “That’s a lot more than just nerves or blood sugar.”

  “Joel’s arrival is definitely a stressor,” she said.

  There was a pause, then Nathan asked, “What time, exactly, did it happen?”

  She frowned at him.

  He met her gaze briefly, then looked away. “This may have everything to do with Carissa.”

  She thought so, too, but why would he?

  He took a deep breath and exhaled, then combed his fingers through his hair. The morning sun shining in through the window showed the lines around his eyes and the evidence of his lack of sleep and his worry. “What time did you have the attack? You said it was last night—was it after dark?”

  “It was just after closing time.”

  “You close at eight—which means this happened about the same time Carissa disappeared.”

  “Yes.” She didn’t want to go there. Not yet. It was too soon and she wasn’t ready.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” He braked when a car cut in front of him. “It’s as if you somehow knew something had happened to Carissa.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Hypocrisy will get you nowhere, Noelle Cooper.

  He nodded. The tightness around his mouth revealed his determination. He was going to discuss the subject no matter what she said.

  “Nathan, I’m not psychic. I’m surprised a former pastor like you would suggest such a thing.”

  “No, not psychic. But you’ve always been able to perceive things others don’t,” he said. “I remember you had dreams several days before your mother died.”

  “You remember that? We were seven.”

  “You told me about it, and it stuck with me. It scared me, because every time you had a dream after that, I was afraid someone would die.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest. Growing up as country neighbors, she and Nathan had ridden horses and bikes, hiked, explored caves, and wandered over the extensive acreage of the combined Cooper and Trask properties. They’d done homework together when they were old enough for homework. She’d shared her thoughts and dreams with him, and he’d remembered, after all this time.

  “So you do know what I’m talking about,” he said.

  “Just because I had dreams before Mom died doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Remember that orange-and-white kitten of mine that got lost when we were ten? I told you about it, and you went right to it. I’d looked for at least two hours, and you found it in five minutes.”

  She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This was just great. She was stuck in a moving vehicle halfway to Hideaway with Nathan Trask, who seemed to be very much in the mood for an argument.

  She pointed to a sign. “There’s your turn. Focus on your driving for a few minutes, will you?”

  He shot her a quick glance that said, “This subject is only tabled, not closed,” but made the turn in silence.

  Chapter Four

  Ihave to think…have to get control! Where did she go? What if she knows it’s me? She could beat me to the house, she could tell the others that I tried to kill her!

  But I didn’t kill her. I stopped myself. I can stop this if I try hard enough. I can keep the fear from controlling me.

  She’s just lost in the cave somewhere, scared and alone. I need to go back and find her and take her home. Maybe if I stay with the others when this thing hits…when this slow, shifting spiral into terror strikes me…their presence might force me to control my actions.

  Yes. I’ll have to find her. Everything will be okay.

  Carissa won’t be able to find her way back without my help. I’m in control.

  I can stay in control.

  Nathan took a bypass around Branson’s busiest highway, increasingly aware that Noelle’s silent observation of the passing roadside was a sign that he’d struck a nerve. This new road had very little traffic, but he waited to speak, respecting her wish for silence, until they were on the far side of Branson.

  “I wish you’d at least talk to me about it,” he said at last.

  She cleared her throat but didn’t answer. A few moments later, she sighed, but still didn’t speak.

  “It’s okay,” he said at last. “I understand. It’s difficult. The kind of gift that you’ve been given can’t be an easy thing to live with.”

  She gave a soft snort. “Gift? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “That’s what I’d call it.”

  “Do you remember where I found the kitten?”

  “At my grandmother’s, up the road, in the milk barn.”

  “Big surprise,” she said dryly. “Cats love milk.”

  “I’d just finished looking everywhere in that barn before you led me to her.”

  “So I got lucky.”

  “I can’t count the number of times you’ve practically told me what I was feeling without my having to say a word.”

  “That happens with friends,” she said.

  Nathan drove in silence for a few more moments while Noelle returned to her study of the passing hills and hayfields. She wasn’t fooling him. He knew her too well. She couldn’t deny something they had grown up knowing—she had been blessed with an unusual amount of empathy.

  No, not just empathy. Intuition, too, and more…

  They’d never talked about it, when they were children, because then it hadn’t seemed like such an unusual thing to them. He suspected that for the past ten or twenty years she had even tried to deny the gift completely. Or maybe she hadn’t experienced it. Noelle’s lifestyle in her late teens and twenties had not given her much of an opening for guidance by the Holy Spirit.

  He couldn’t remember when she’d first shown signs of this special sense about other people. She was right, she did have a logical thought process and a natural gift for reading body language. She also had a genuine affection for people.

  But there was something extra, besides all that, and the best definition he could find was to call it “a discernment.” Some might say it was unnatural, but if anything it was supernatural, a spiritual gift from God, because, somehow Nathan was sure, Noelle had never attempted to “conjure” this gift.

  He couldn’t help wondering about last night, but for now he wouldn’t push it.

  “Be gentle with Jill when you see her,” he said, knowing Noelle would appreciate the change of subject, even if it did mean talking about another uncomfortable issue.

  “Fine. I’ll just tenderly punch her in the nose.”

  He grinned as he negotiated a sharp curve past Reeds Spring. “I think she feels partly responsible for Carissa’s disappearance. Carissa was bringing back a ledger from the office for Jill to look at. You knew Jill and Cecil formed a business partnership for Cooper’s Sawmill?”

  “Yes, she told me. Sounds like Aunt Pearl’s not crazy about the idea.”

  “Pearl doesn’t like losing authority, but Cecil and Jill finally managed to convince her that they need to modernize if they’re going to retain their edge in the market.”

  “Meaning computers,” Noelle said. “Jill told me two weeks ago that they’d already purchased two. Also that Melva’s tackling the job of entering data for the whole year, and Jill’s learning the system with her. Aunt Pearl must be fit to be tied.”

  Nathan chuckled. “She hates anything she can’t understand.”

  Noelle glanced at him. “But Jill has her nursing job at the clinic. How does she have time for both?”

  “Maybe you should talk to her about that.”

  “I did, but Jill wouldn’t listen. Remember, I’m the baby sister without a brain in my head.”

  Nathan heard the frustration in her voice. Noelle and Jill loved each other very much, but they never quite overcame the clash of wills that should have been settled between them long ago—Jill’s fierce need to nurture versus Noelle’s equally fierce need for independence. Jill nurt
ured not only her sister, but her extended family, the patients she worked with at the clinic and the clinic staff, as well. Consequently, she had little time to nurture herself. She was often irritable and stressed.

  Nathan braked for a slow moving car in front of him. “Jill’s working a lot these days, and the clinic is still desperately searching for medical personnel willing to relocate to Hideaway.”

  “I know. She’s asked me at least ten times in the past month if I’d consider a position.”

  “And your reply?” Nathan resisted the urge to check out Noelle’s expression.

  “I told her it shouldn’t be hard to find someone,” she said. “The town caters to tourists, including medical personnel, and surely some of them could be enticed to stay permanently.”

  “It hasn’t happened yet. Jill isn’t the only one who would like to see you back home in Hideaway.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her glance at him. “Really?” she asked softly.

  “Bertie Meyer talks about you all the time. So does Carissa.”

  “Oh.”

  Was that disappointment in her voice? And if so, who else had she hoped would want her back in Hideaway?

  He suppressed a smile. “They’ll need several new staff members if Dr. Cheyenne Gideon manages to convince the city board of directors to support a hospital designation for the clinic.” He glanced at Noelle. “You’re still a nurse. Why ignore the skills you worked so hard to learn?”

  “Don’t start with me. I’ve had enough of that from Jill.”

  “Have you ever considered the possibility that she’s right once in a while?”

  “Have you ever considered the possibility that you’re a nag?” Noelle teased. “Besides, you’re the one who can’t settle on a career. From preacher to pharmacist in four years. You never told me why you made that giant leap.”

  He gave up. She wouldn’t be pinned down, and if he tried, she’d just change the subject again. “Not much of a leap. After Natalie died, I felt overwhelmed by the pastorate, so I gave the church my resignation and went back to school to follow in my mom’s footsteps.” It was an oversimplification of a very complicated and painful time in his life, and her prolonged silence told him she knew it.

 

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