by Dale Mayer
Finally, after twenty minutes of checking all her favorite spots and the places she expected to find her family, Shambhala came back with her tail down. The look in her good eye when she stared at Weston almost broke his heart. He hopped down so he was sitting on the small deck and reached out a hand to gently scratch the back of her head and to hold her.
“They would have come back if they could have,” he murmured, “but they couldn’t.”
Shambhala didn’t seem to understand what he said, but then why would she? He didn’t even understand the truth of all this. He only knew what the detective had told him. And, in his heart of hearts, he hoped it was as simple as that, but he wasn’t so sure it would be.
With Shambhala at his side, they did a search of the house, garage and another outbuilding, then walked through the fields. In the six weeks the family hadn’t been here, nature was already taking over. Weeds were everywhere, and, if vegetables had been planted here, they were quickly being incorporated back into the landscape.
Weston found no tractor equipment, no vehicles, just whatever had been here at the time they died. And, for that reason alone, he figured Shambhala must have been in the vehicle at the same time when the Buckmans died. He collected the dog dishes, the couple toys he saw and a collar and leash hanging off the door. He put them on her then headed toward the rental truck, whistling for her. She was still racing around but finally stopped, looked around one last time and ran to him. He opened the driver’s side door; she hopped in and moved over to the passenger side.
“At least we got that done. I’m sorry it wasn’t better news.”
He drove out farther, looking for the location where the slide occurred, wanting to see where the accident had been.
As they got close, the dog started to growl. Finding that reaction odd, Weston pulled off to the side of the road, and, slipping the leash on her neck to keep track of her, he hopped out.
It was a little farther down, maybe another fifty yards, but he stopped because it was obvious parts of a rockslide and a vehicle had been crushed underneath the rocks. Part of it had been removed but part of it was still wedged under some rocks. The dog started to whine.
“I know, Shambhala, but it’s too late for them.” He knew no bodies were left in the vehicle, and they were back in the morgue or had already been buried by now. He studied the marks on the road, wondering if it really had been an accident. He hated to think it was anything other than that, but it was just way too possible. And, with a final look, he called Shambhala. “Come on, girl. Let’s go home.”
Chapter 6
Daniela headed to the grocery store. She admitted she’d stayed a little too long, watching Weston in the rental place, trying to figure out what it was about him that moved her so. Was it the connection she could see to her daughter? Because that could be a dangerous path. She’d been the one to push for a relationship, as little Sari had already suffered enough loss in her life.
But just something about the man himself made her breath catch in the back of her throat. Almost like a cord from her led to him, and she desperately wanted to stay attached, and that was even scarier. She and her husband had had a decent life, until he’d changed. She wasn’t sure if she should blame that change on his illness or the girlfriends she’d found out about, but it had changed her perspective. Having little Sari as part of her life had been a gift that she’d wanted forever, and she had been willing to put up with a lot in order to have it.
But, when she lost Charlie, she realized just how much compromise she’d made in order to have the perfect little family she thought she’d always wanted and needed. Her definition of family was changing now. It was just her and Sari, and yet Daniela knew Sari could definitely benefit from having her father in her life. Particularly now that Daniela realized he wasn’t a man who had intentionally walked away from his daughter.
She understood Weston’s need to have time to adjust, now that he knew about Sari. She imagined a man like that didn’t take betrayal easily. Hell, nobody did, nor should they. Betrayal was at the core of every failed relationship. People made choices on a day-to-day basis on whether they would be a good person or a shitty person.
When Charlie had gotten ill, he’d gone on this wild rampage of trying everything he thought he’d missed out on in his life, including affairs. She hadn’t understood, and he’d thought she should have. Charlie had made an agreement that he would be decent while the child was around, but, other than that, he wanted to be free to go his own way.
At that point, Charlie wasn’t the most levelheaded, easygoing, honorable man. She thought he had been when they first married, but maybe the marriage itself had changed him somehow. It was also pretty disconcerting to realize she no longer cared. He had ruined everything between them, not only ruined it all but killed it dead.
It was hard for her to find any regrets in the way their relationship ended. She could grieve for the man he had been, but that man had died a long time ago. She felt like a terrible person for even thinking along those lines, but, how else was she to take this, when somebody became the worst of the worst in front of you and then treated you like dirt right up to the end with no explanation? Well, except that maybe some blame had been involved. She didn’t understand that, but maybe Charlie blamed Daniela because she was alive and healthy, and he wasn’t. He never did voice that complaint or his anger and frustration as to why, but it had left her with a very bitter taste.
His affairs and complete lack of regard for her well-being had made life difficult. But she’d stuck by his side right to the bitter end. Maybe she shouldn’t have; maybe she should have taken Sari and run, but that wasn’t her way. Unfortunately it seemed to be the way of the world, but she didn’t have to sign up for being that way herself.
As she walked into the grocery store, she picked up a few things for Sari, wondering if Weston was serious about pulling up stakes. She added a few other items she needed for the house. As she pulled up to the checkout line, a woman behind her started talking.
“Daniela, I’m surprised to see you here.”
She felt something inside close down. It was Trudy. Another one of her husband’s wild flings near the end of his life. Turning, with a bright plastic smile, she said, “I don’t know why you’d be surprised. It’s the closest grocery store to my house.”
Trudy just shrugged, completely oblivious to the animosity Daniela was trying hard to keep tamped down. “How are you doing?” Trudy asked.
If Daniela didn’t already know about the affair, she might actually think Trudy cared, but Daniela did know because her husband was always extremely explicit about his antics. “I’m fine,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, after Charlie—” and she dropped her voice into a hostile whisper.
Several other people were around them, and Daniela could see their interested glances. She didn’t recognize anybody, but she could feel her temper spike. Why would this woman do this? How two-faced could one person be?
She smiled again at Trudy. “I guess I should thank you for giving him his little fling at the end of his life then, huh?”
Trudy’s eyes widened. Flustered, she said, “Sorry? I don’t know what you mean.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? Come on, Trudy. Charlie was pretty desperate to try out a few other women before he died,” she said smoothly. “I understand you were one of them, so I guess I should say thank-you for helping him get through his last few days.”
Trudy’s face flushed bright red and then paled. She looked horrified. “I don’t know why you would think that.”
“Because he told me, of course,” Daniela said in a reasonable tone. “We went over the long list of what he considered his conquests. Didn’t he tell you what he was doing? That he was having his last little hurrah?”
Trudy swallowed hard, desperately trying to get out of the checkout line, now as even more people crowded around.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said fai
ntly.
“Well, shake your memory,” Daniela said. “Just like you shook your bootie for him.”
And, with a heavy gasp, Trudy turned and swung her cart away, racing down the aisle.
Wearing a smirk, even as she was admonishing herself for being such a bitch, Daniela turned to face the checker. But the woman had a commiserating look on her face, as did several other people in her line.
“That couldn’t have been easy,” the woman murmured, as she rang up the items. “But honestly, that woman is a menace.”
“Oh, her reputation precedes me, does it?”
One of the women farther down the line of shoppers said, “Absolutely. It’s part of who she is.”
“So maybe I really should thank her,” Daniela said with a laugh. “At least my husband died with a smile on his face.”
At that, the other people weren’t sure if they should laugh with her or be horrified at her comment. She gave a slight wave of her hand. “Don’t mind me,” she said. “I’m still adjusting to, well, to a lot of things.”
At that, they instinctively turned sympathetic and nodded. She paid for her purchases, and, with Sari sitting quite happily in the cart seat, walked back to her truck.
Daniela didn’t even know why she’d done it. She wasn’t someone who wanted the world to know about her dirty laundry. But something had been just so fake and so downright mean about Trudy’s original comment that Daniela couldn’t stop herself. It made no sense. Because she normally wasn’t that kind of a person, although maybe she needed to be. Maybe something about her husband’s about-face personality change made her stop and look at herself. She hated the idea she still had a lot of hurt she held inside. Hurt she needed to let go of, or it would ultimately hurt Sari too.
As soon as Daniela had Sari packed up in the truck, and she started the engine, she took several deep breaths to calm down. Then realized her hands were shaking. Tears came to her eyes, and she sat here for a long moment, listening to Sari babble in the back seat.
She was full of sadness, soberly contemplating life choices and how difficult some of them were. Nobody had known how bad her marriage to Charlie was at the end. Nobody but her and Charlie. Even her sister hadn’t known. When her phone rang, she picked it up off her purse to see it was her sister.
“What the hell just happened?” her sister asked.
Daniela groaned. “What are you talking about?”
“The conversation you just had in that grocery store.”
“Well, that didn’t take long. Who told you?”
“A school friend,” she said. “She saw you there and heard the conversation.”
“Of course she did,” Daniela snapped. “And, of course, gossip travels faster than the speed of sound, doesn’t it?”
“Not quite.” Davida’s tone was grim. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Daniela gave a bitter laugh. “Because I was going through enough shit at the time without listening to more.”
That stopped her sister cold. “I wouldn’t have given you shit about it,” she said slowly.
“Yes, you would have. You would have made sure I left him or argued every day about me leaving him.”
“It was bad enough what you went through,” her sister said, “but to think he had an affair with Trudy?”
“Trudy was one of eight,” Daniela said, her tone grim, as she decided there was no point in keeping secrets anymore. “When Charlie got ill, he switched personalities. I don’t know if it was the medications, his mental illness or what, but he became a completely different person. He was verbally abusive, and then he started having affairs. It was as if he was desperately eager to sample everything he hadn’t sampled so far and was running out of time.”
“And the sampling was with other women?” Davida asked incredulously.
“Yes,” Daniela replied, “among other things.”
“Like?” her sister asked cautiously.
“Getting drunk to the point of puking, waking up with a heavy hangover every day. Doing a lot of drugs, and not knowing where he was from one moment to the next,” Daniela said quietly. “He even tried staying up for three days in a row because he didn’t want to miss a single moment.”
“Jesus,” her sister said.
“No way I could tell you,” Daniela said. “The questions would have been endless, and there was nothing I could do but push it all down. Once Sari came into my life, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her life. You know that.”
“And I suppose that perfect husband of yours made some deal with you, about you staying by his side, didn’t he?”
“Maybe,” Daniela said, tiredly reaching up to rub her temple. “None of it matters now though, does it? He’s gone. I’m still here. I’ve got Sari, and life is good.”
Another long silence came before her sister let out a slow, deep, modulated breath. “I guess it’s probably a good thing you didn’t tell me before,” she said, “because I’m vibrating with so much anger right now that I probably would have killed him before he could kill himself.”
Daniela laughed. “You think I didn’t want to do the same? But I didn’t because I knew his life would come to an end pretty quickly anyway. I did my best to understand what he was up to, but that got to be pretty hard too.”
“You’re a better person than I am,” Davida said. “I wouldn’t have stayed.”
“No, but when I married, it was ’til death do us part, and I already knew that the death sentence had a termination date. Everybody could see he was failing rapidly. I would stick by my part of the bargain until his death. If he hadn’t been terminal, I would have left.”
“Are you okay now?”
“You mean, after his death or after the grocery store?”
A brittle laugh escaped her sister. “Both?”
“I’m fine,” she said, suddenly very tired. “I’m heading home with Sari.”
“And Sari’s father?” Davida’s voice changed, suddenly becoming brisk. “Is he still here?”
“Not right now. He got a rental truck and is doing some work. I’m heading home from the store.”
“Is he looking to move here?” Davida asked. “Are you sure you want to open that door?”
“That door was opened when he found out he was her father,” Daniela said, not wanting to sit here and argue with her sister on this front too. “He’s staying for a time to resolve a work issue at least.”
“If he has a job, that’s a plus,” she said. “You should get some child support out of him.”
Daniela snorted. “That is not why I contacted him.”
“Maybe it should be,” her sister said. “God knows you could use the money.”
“That’s got nothing to do with it. I’m doing fine, and you know it.”
“Doesn’t matter if you’re doing fine or not. This guy has a job, and you’re looking after his kid. Meanwhile he’s getting off scot-free. That’s not fair either.”
“It’s hardly scot-free,” Daniela said. “He didn’t even know Angel was pregnant, and he didn’t find out about Sari until after she’d already been adopted.”
“So he says,” her sister snapped.
“Look. I can’t deal with this right now,” Daniela said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
With that, she hit the End Call button on her phone and tossed it into her purse. She’d listened to this conversation with her sister enough times to know that, for Davida, it always came back to money. Daniela knew it was concern on her sister’s part, but that didn’t make it any easier. Daniela would bend over backward to make sure Sari was fine, and she also was a little concerned about Angel being out there somewhere. It would be a whole lot easier if she wasn’t. But then again, that was a horrible thought after having gone through Charlie’s death.
She drove home, her mind consumed with her problems, but, when she finally pulled in, she realized just how exhausted she was. She climbed out, turned toward the back seat and saw Sari had fallen asleep in her car seat. Smi
ling, she grabbed the groceries and took them to the front door, then came right back and opened the truck’s back door and unbuckled her little girl. Sari murmured but was limp as a dishrag, letting Daniela tuck her up against her heart as she carried her inside.
With the truck locked and the front door closed, she walked upstairs, where she laid the little girl down for her nap. When she was stretched out on the mattress, Daniela gently took off her little shoes and her coat and then tucked a blanket lightly around her. Back downstairs, she took the groceries to the kitchen and unpacked them. It was such a mundane chore, but it brought her a sense of peace. Settling into a routine was what she desperately needed. So much was going on in her life, but all she wanted was peace and quiet, along with a happy future for her and her daughter. Was that asking too much?
Weston wasn’t sure why he was back at the homestead, but, as soon as he’d gotten just a mile away from the wreck where Ginger and Grant had gone over the road, most likely with Shambhala, she started to bark again. He’d pulled off to the side of the road, trying to figure out what the problem was. When he turned to look at her, she went quiet again.
“What do you want to do, girl?”
Shambhala just looked at him. When he pulled into the road to turn around again, Shambhala started barking. He groaned.
“Okay, so does this mean you want to go back to the cabin?”
He felt foolish talking to the dog, as if expecting to get a straightforward answer, because nothing was straightforward about this. The dog was obviously lost and feeling like she was missing something special. But, if he could make the dog a little happier or more secure, it would be worth spending the time.
He drove back up to the cabin, and the dog whined to get out of the truck. He walked around and opened the door for her, then watched as the dog took off again, racing around the fields, then back up to the house, where she scratched on the front door. Weston walked up and opened the door, stepping inside.
It was a nice little homesteader cabin. He hoped the brother didn’t sell it off too cheap because it was a nice place. He looked at some of the details he hadn’t noticed before.