Soul's Gate

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Soul's Gate Page 7

by James L. Rubart

At least she wasn’t the only one who would be suffering withdrawal.

  Reece glanced at Marcus again. “Why does it bother you?”

  “I need to be able to reach my family.”

  “Why? They can’t go a few days without hearing from you?”

  The professor sighed, ran his fingers through his dark hair, turned to his window, and didn’t respond.

  Dana stared out her backseat window at the gathering storm clouds. Isolated from the outside world completely. Wonderful. Perspiration returned to her palms. The next four days would be really good or really bad. Probably some of both.

  TEN

  WHEN DANA, REECE, AND HE ARRIVED AT THE RANCH, Marcus’s first thought was that Reece’s description of Well Spring didn’t come close to capturing the splendor of the place. Its sprawling beauty rushed into his head and heart and he grinned. The surging river far in front of them, the aspen trees full of emerald leaves along its banks, the chalk cliffs rising on the other side of the water all gave promise of sanctuary and revelation. Then there was the main cabin. Two thousand square feet he guessed, and it looked like it should be on a postcard.

  Reece gave them a tour, describing the detail that went into construction of the place.

  “The main cabin is made from an old barn built in the late 1890s that came from Gray Rock Ranch ten miles south of the town of eagle. The barn was going to be torn down and destroyed. It was thought worthless.

  “The builders of Well Spring disagreed.” Reece gazed around the inside of the cabin, nodding slightly. “The rest of the cabin was added on a year later.” He strolled over to the main hallway and ran his fingertips along the wall. “Look at the wood.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” Dana said.

  “It comes from trees destroyed by the pine beetle. They’ve decimated many trees around here, but wood that was discarded and thought only good for fires was taken and restored into something beautiful.”

  Reece didn’t need to mention the symbolism. It was obvious. God restoring the broken and inviting them into glory.

  Marcus studied the wood, then let his gaze roam to the photos hanging every few feet along the length of the hallway. Pictures of the river outside lit up like gold in a late afternoon sun, a close-up of a radiant aspen leaf full of spring green, a shot looking down on the cabin that must have been taken from the mountains above the ranch. Each of the photos was captivating in its artistry and color.

  Dana wandered over and smiled as she studied each photo. When she reached the end of the hallway she turned. “These photos are magnificent. Really, really stunning.”

  Marcus studied the look on her face. “Is photography an interest of yours?”

  “No, not really.” She shook her head. “Well, sort of. It’s a hobby I don’t take much time for. But I did bring my camera on this trip. And I’ll definitely be taking some shots.” She glanced once more at the photos and walked back down the hall to join Reece and him.

  Next Reece led them outside where a covered porch protected a fireplace that looked well used. A pile of kindling sat next to the fireplace, and a huge pile of split logs was stacked between two of the log posts that held up the awning. From there Reece led them down fourteen steps made from railroad ties onto a long walkway. He pointed at the white path. “These stones are French limestone. They were purchased for a dime on the dollar.”

  The path led to a circular patio with a fire pit in the center of it, which overlooked the river thirty feet below. Marcus glanced up and down the steep descent to the riverbank, looking for stairs. There were none. But he did see worn paths and thick ropes streaming out from a few of the trees growing out of the bank. It was evident climbing down to the river was common among the visitors to Well Spring Ranch. For some reason it seemed appropriate there were no stairs.

  Reece motioned at the circular patio they stood on. “This is the listening post. My favorite spot of the entire ranch. It’s where the Spirit has spoken to me over the years I’ve been coming here and where I suspect God will talk to you. It’s where he seems to talk to most people who gather at the ranch. But maybe your spot will be down by the river.”

  Reece motioned toward the cliffs rising on the other side of the valley. “Or maybe at the base of the mountains. Or maybe high up in the hills.”

  “How do you know he’ll speak to us?” Dana said.

  “Remember what I said on the way here about Jesus saying his sheep will hear his voice? He will speak. That’s not the question. The question is if you’ll listen. The question is if you’ll choose to believe what he says.”

  Reece looked at each of them for a long time as if to punctuate his comment. “The third member of our band won’t arrive for another”—he pulled back his sleeve and glanced at his watch—“two hours, so I’d like to suggest you start in on your journals.”

  “What journals?”

  Reece pulled two small black leather journals out of his satchel and handed one to Dana and one to Marcus. “A life worth living is a life worth recording. And I believe the life you’re going to live over these next few days, and the months and years after that, will be well worth documenting.”

  Marcus ran his fingers over the leather. Like silk. His name was etched into the front of the journal. He glanced at Dana’s. Her name graced the cover as well.

  “Thank you, Reece,” he said.

  Marcus smiled as he pondered Kat’s last words before he left this morning. “No regrets about missing Abbie’s game. No regrets about anything in the past. You can’t change it, but dwelling on the past can mar the future. So step into the future with everything God has for you.”

  God willing, he would. No regrets. Not anymore—if only it were that easy.

  Dana smiled at Reece. “Yes, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Reece started to say something else, then stopped.

  “Were you going to add something?” Dana asked.

  Reece shielded his eyes from the sun. “This has been a long time coming. I’m glad both of you are here.”

  Marcus didn’t touch the statement and neither did Dana. Pain glazed the man’s eyes as well as longing, fear, and a hint of regret. Reece hid it, but Marcus knew that look too well through personal experience.

  “And I’d also spend some time in prayer. We’re going into battle and we’ll all need to be fully stocked up.”

  “When does the battle begin?” Dana said.

  “It already has.”

  ELEVEN

  BRANDON STARED AT KEVIN AND FANTASIZED ABOUT strangling his manager. They had taken another wrong turn on the way to Well Spring Ranch, yanking them another twenty minutes off schedule. Kevin was the navigator and his skills were not pinging the bell.

  “Do you want to drive and I’ll tell you where to turn?” Brandon opened his bag of sunflower seeds and popped a few in his mouth.

  “The GPS on my phone keeps screwing up.” Kevin smacked his cell phone and stared at the screen. “The blue dot, which is us, keeps disappearing. But we’re on the right path now. Pretty sure. Kinda sure.”

  “Let’s stop at a house and ask.”

  “Other than the fact that guys aren’t allowed to even consider asking for directions, there hasn’t been a home for the past three miles.” Kevin tapped his phone again.

  “I sure hope you’re right, Columbus. I’m guessing we’ve only got a few more miles before you lose service.”

  “What?”

  “Reece said cell coverage is almost nonexistent out here.”

  “But you’ll have Internet and cell service at the ranch, right? Satellite?”

  “Nope. I’ll be off the grid.”

  “No way, uh-uh.” Kevin frowned and shook his head. “That can’t happen. You have to have cell coverage.”

  “Don’t think that’s going to be the case, pal.” Brandon grinned. “What if I need to reach you? And you know I’ll need to. We have to be able to communicate.”

  “Do me a favor while I’m here. Find out what
people did before cell phones and the Internet and e-mail. See how they survived.”

  “That’s hysterical. My gut has busted and spilled out on the floor.”

  A snake slithered across the road ten yards in front of them. “Did you see that?” Brandon jabbed his finger at the road. “That thing was huge. It was like a sewer pipe crawling across the road. Probably a rattler.”

  “Great. No coverage and you’re going to die of a snakebite.” Kevin slid his cell phone into his pocket and pulled out the map sitting on the dashboard.

  A half hour later their Ford Escape bounced from rut to rut on a narrow dirt road, bouncing them as well, their seat belts the only thing keeping their heads from slamming off the ceiling like pinballs.

  “Glad you rented an SUV,” Kevin said.

  “Reece recommended it highly. He said I would hate him if I didn’t.”

  “I’m hating him even with the SUV. How far out is this place?”

  “He said it was remote.”

  “He must be the bard of understatement.”

  A gulley in the road jerked them to the left and Brandon yanked on the wheel to get them back to the center of the road—and calling it a road was a generous description.

  “How long have you known Reece?”

  “About three years. Don’t you remember? He came to a couple of my concerts and we hit it off. Now he offers perspective on life.” Brandon propped his elbow on the edge of the window and stared at the gathering rain clouds.

  “And you think you need some.”

  “Hey, don’t play dumb. I’m not the only one who thinks that.” Brandon glanced at Kevin. “You’re thrilled I’m going.”

  “All right, I admit it. You’ve been off lately, and I think some counseling could be good for you.”

  “This isn’t counseling. The way he was talking up at Snoqualmie Falls, I’m about to learn the ways of the force. Help me, Kevin K. Kenobi, you’re my only hope.”

  “The gospel according to George Lucas.” Kevin smiled. “But you’ll also get into how you were all hurt by your fathers, won’t you?”

  Brandon sighed. “My father was okay. He loved me. There’re really good memories there. I just wish he’d stood up to my stepmom every now and then. Always made me feel a little undervalued.”

  For the next fifteen minutes they rode with rough cuts from Brandon’s next album providing the sound track for their crosscountry trek. Brandon flicked off the power and glanced at Kevin. “I suck.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He wasn’t saying it to make Kevin tell him the music was great. Brandon really did think the new songs were weak. Yes, he said that about every album and felt it to be true at the time the songs were made. But this time it really was true. Sure, he could rework the songs—speed up the tempo or slow it down, slide in a guitar solo or another layer of backup vocals—but it wouldn’t do much good. Without God’s spark, the album would tank. Brandon sighed. If Well Spring didn’t provide an answer, he had no idea what would.

  Kevin broke his downward mental spiral a few minutes later. “Remind me, who else is going on this retreat?”

  Brandon blinked and gripped the wheel tighter. “There’re four of us, plus Reece. One’s a physics professor from U-Dub, one’s a personal trainer, and the third works in downtown Seattle.”

  “You’ve met all of them?”

  Brandon slid on his sunglasses and shifted in his seat away from Kevin. “I met the prof and the trainer up at Snoqualmie Falls last week, the other gal couldn’t make it.”

  But she’d be there at the ranch ready to rock both their worlds. Now he understood why Reece hadn’t told him who it was till last night. If he’d had more time to think about it, he might not have come.

  Brandon shook out another handful of seeds into his hand and popped them in his mouth.

  Kevin laughed. “I don’t know how you can shell those things inside your mouth and not choke on them.”

  “Talented teeth and tongue.” He slowed for a series of five-inchdeep potholes.

  “You’re sure Reece is legit?”

  “What are you talking about? Just last week you were telling me I should go on this thing. Now you’re telling me to watch out?”

  “I’m just saying you better be looking for cameras in that place when you get inside to make sure you don’t wind up on some reality TV show. It’s my job to worry about you.”

  “He’s the real deal. Trust me, K2.”

  Kevin folded his arms. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping your eyes open.”

  “For what?”

  “A handout. You told me how he dresses.”

  “Just because his clothes are old doesn’t mean he’s going to hit me up for cash.”

  “Not yet. But once he puts his guru spin on everything, he’ll be asking you to donate fifty thousand dollars so he can advance his cause.”

  “I’ll put him in touch with you if he asks.” Brandon grinned.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Kevin glanced at the map. “I think we should be there pretty soon.” He tossed the map onto the car floor. Ten minutes later they crested a rise in the road and Well Spring appeared in front of them.

  “Wow.” Kevin rolled down his window and the scent of pine filled the car. “Reece must have some sizable donors to his cause to get you all into this place for free.”

  Brandon stared at the ranch. Stunning. He parked next to what must be Reece’s rental car, exited the SUV, and grabbed his backpack. “You want to come in and meet everyone?”

  Kevin came around the front of the vehicle and got comfortable in the driver’s seat. “No thanks.” He looked at his cell phone. “Zero bars. No service.” Then he squinted at Brandon. “I guess I’ll be talking to you in four days. I’ll be praying for you.”

  “Thanks, bud.” Brandon stared at the cabin as the crunch of the SUV’s tires driving away faded into the afternoon. This next part wouldn’t be easy. He tramped down the path to the cabin, lugging his backpack over one shoulder, each step bringing him closer to the fuse he couldn’t stop from lighting.

  TWELVE

  DANA DRIED HER HANDS OFF ON THE THICK BROWN HAND towel that hung from a brass ring on the wall of the cabin bathroom, checked her hair in the mirror, and paused before opening the door and again asked the question stuck in her mind like a bad advertising jingle. “What am I doing here?”

  Three against one. She should have seen it coming. Tamera coming was too good to be true. Yes, the healing Dana had experienced on the way here was real. Yes, she believed God wanted her here, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to dive into Reece’s world of spiritual olympics with people she barely knew.

  She would be fine. She functioned quite capably among the men in the radio industry and could handle this, but still, why couldn’t Tamera be here to temper the testosterone? Dana needed to let it go. Trust God in this. So easily said, so hard to live.

  Reece still hadn’t told her anything about the third member of their group, even after they arrived. Which was certainly not a good sign. Why would he keep the mystery going till the last possible second? Why couldn’t she know anything about him but Marcus could?

  This wasn’t just a recipe for disaster, this dish had already been baked and served with a nice hot chili-pepper sauce on top. She sighed, pulled the bathroom door open, and shuffled down the hall and around the corner into the great room.

  “Okay, any bets on when the third member of our little tribe is going to show—?” The last word didn’t just stick in her throat. It filled her stomach and made her want to retch.

  It couldn’t be him. Not here. But it was him, standing fifteen feet from her, a stupid smile mashed all over his face as if it were four years ago and they were looking for something dumb to do on a Saturday night and succeeding more often than not.

  Brandon. What had Reece done? She hadn’t seen him in three years. Not a phone call. Not an e-mail. Not a Christmas card. Nothing. But what had she expected? When
Brandon broke it off, she made him promise to get out of her life entirely. No contact whatsoever. He had abided by her request. And she’d successfully buried the part of her that wished he hadn’t honored her demand.

  “Hi, Dana.” He shifted his weight back and forth on his Converse All Stars, black denim jeans hanging loosely, dark blond hair styled like he was ready to step onstage at Creation Fest and whip his adoring fans into a frenzy.

  “Brandon Scott.” She widened her legs slightly and clenched her jaw tight. There was no way she’d show surprise or any other kind of emotion. She took another step into the living room and slowly folded her arms across her chest.

  “Yeah.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “From the look on your face, you didn’t know I was coming.”

  No kidding, cowboy. She blinked. “What are you—?” The words stuck again.

  “Doing here?” Brandon pulled his hands from his pockets and popped his fists together and looked at Reece. “You want to tackle this one?”

  Dana glared at Reece with her best “I want to kill you” stare, but he didn’t flinch and stayed silent. She spun back to Brandon. “You don’t look surprised to see me.”

  “Not entirely. Reece told me last night you’d be here.”

  She glanced at Reece, then back to Brandon. “Then why in God’s green and blue and purple and gold universe did you still come?”

  Brandon sputtered a few unintelligible words.

  “And you.” She took two strides toward Reece and pointed at him. “Why didn’t you tell me? And don’t give me some flippant ‘You didn’t ask’ type answer. I did ask.”

  Reece’s face was stone. “If you had come to the meeting at Snoqualmie Falls, you would have discovered then that Brandon is one of the four and would have been able to choose whether or not to come to Well Spring.”

  Her face went hot. “You could have told me in the airport or on the plane or on the phone.”

  Reece bent and picked up the hatchet resting on the ledge of the fireplace and split a piece of pine into kindling. “No, it wasn’t something to do on the phone. And it wasn’t something to do without both of you here. That day at the falls was the only time both your schedules would allow you to address the issue in person. I told you the meeting was critical. And you chose not to come.”

 

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