Storm on the Horizon
Page 6
Chapter 6
The sun was out again in all its glory, shining down from the mountain tops, dancing and sparkling on the still morning waters of Panquitch Lake, and warming the wooded trail where Kate and Jason hiked slowly, peacefully, around the lake, carefully avoiding going anywhere near Chester Greeley’s place.
Kate thought back to the previous day. It had turned out to be a pleasant evening, once she had gotten over the immediate shock of their run-in with Chester. She and Jason had sat, curled up close together, in front of the wood-burning stove until the remaining kerosene in the lamp had run out. Although she hadn’t told Jason just how unnerving their encounter with Chester had been to her, she did tell him she had decided to go back home in the morning. Jason, disappointed at first, had come around when she promised to make a return trip to the lake very soon.
Now, with breakfast over and everything packed in the SUV, they had decided on one last walk around the lake. Kate was glad they had. The air seemed fresher this morning, crisper than she had remembered it in a long while. There was nothing cleaner or more invigorating, she decided, than mountain air.
In spite of the thin, high atmosphere, there was a bounce in Kate’s step—not enough to keep up with her energetic six-year-old son, of course, but enough to remind her that, at twenty-seven, she was still a young woman. She couldn’t decide if that thought cheered or depressed her. If only she knew what lay ahead. If only she had some direction, some plans or aspirations for the future or—
She jumped, catching her breath as the couple stepped in front of them. Her mind had been so far away. Had they spoken to her or Jason, called out to them in greeting? Or had they simply appeared, unannounced, seemingly out of nowhere? The fleeting thought that they might have meant to sneak up on them unaware made Kate’s skin crawl. She glanced at Jason, standing beside her. He, too, seemed startled to see them, although he recovered much more quickly than she.
“Hi,” he said cheerfully, his ever-ready smile lighting up his round, cherubic face. “I’m Jason, remember?”
It was the couple they had seen out strolling on the path just below their cabin the day before. The Simmons? Or was it the Simons? Even though Kate wasn’t sure of their name and had seen them only once before, she knew she would never forget that look in the woman’s eyes as she had gazed back longingly at Jason. Kate’s heart began to race, as she reached out protectively and laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder.
The man nodded his nearly bald head curtly, with no sign of a smile on his plain, pudgy face. “Yeah,” he answered gruffly. “Yeah, I remember. Jamie, was it?”
The woman corrected her husband quickly. “Jason,” she said, staring into Jason’s face. “Your name is Jason. I remember. Jason Ames.”
Jason nodded. “And my mom, Kate.”
The woman ignored Kate, but the man acknowledged her briefly. “Mrs. Ames,” he said with a slight nod, not offering his hand in greeting.
Kate wished she could remember exactly what they had said their names were, but before she could bring herself to ask, the woman reached out her hand tentatively toward Jason, as if to touch his face, then quickly withdrew.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I thought...” Nervously, she glanced up at her husband, then over at Kate, and finally back to Jason. “I’m Millie,” she announced, just as she had the day before, then went on breathlessly. “Millie Simons. Al and I are spending the summer here at the lake, in the old Brewster cabin. Do you know where it is? Would you like to come and visit us there some time, Jason?”
Before Jason or Kate could answer, Al reached over and lightly touched his wife’s arm, as if in silent reprimand. The woman’s eyes grew large, her wrinkled, suntanned face terrified, as if he had struck her. Kate knew instinctively that Millie would say no more. She also knew that, whatever it was that had caused Millie’s terror had also cast its ominous shadow over her own heart. She gripped Jason’s shoulder tightly.
“We’d better be going,” she said, her voice shaking slightly as her eyes moved from Millie to Al and, finally, to Jason. “We have to get home, Sport,” she told him as she stared into his dark, somewhat confused eyes. “I think we’ve been out walking long enough, don’t you?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but turned him back toward the cabin. Keeping her arm across his back and hurrying him along, half walking, half stumbling, down the path, she glanced over her shoulder briefly. Al and Millie Simons had vanished as quickly and quietly as they had first appeared.
“You don’t like the Simons, do you, Mom?” Jason asked as they neared the cabin.
Kate flushed. How could she possibly explain to a six-year old that, for reasons even she couldn’t understand, the middle-aged couple struck a note of fear in her, a fear that was somewhat akin to the fear she had been feeling lately when the phone rang and no one was on the other end, or when she walked down a street full of people, sure that one of them was watching her, following her….
Stop it, Kate, she scolded herself. Pull yourself together here, for Jason’s sake, at least. You’re letting your imagination run away with you again. There is absolutely no reason in the world to associate Al and Millie Simons with the phone calls or...or what? What else is there? You’ve never seen anyone following you. No one has ever said anything to make you think that—
“Mom?” Jason’s voice interrupted her thoughts once more. “Mom, did you hear me? I asked if you like the Simons.”
Kate stopped and looked down into her son’s wide, questioning eyes. How could she make him understand that it was not a matter of liking or not liking the Simons, that she wanted only to protect him, to shield him from any and all harm? To Jason the world was a vast, exciting playground, full of thrilling adventures and unlimited learning experiences just waiting for him to come along and discover them. To Kate it was a hard, cruel training ground, a war zone full of hidden death traps, ready to snatch away the very ones whose existence made life worthwhile. She knew the truth lay somewhere between those two extremes, but how could she explain that to her son when she herself didn’t know the answer?
“I don’t know if I like the Simons or not,” she hedged, trying desperately to avoid an out-and-out lie. “I don’t know them well enough to decide that.”
Jason shrugged. “I don’t know them, either. But I like them. I think Millie Simons is sad, though. And I think her husband worries about her.”
Kate swallowed. She wondered sometimes if her young son understood a lot more than she gave him credit for. She blinked her eyes rapidly, refusing to cry.
“We’d better get going,” she said, her voice gruffer than she had meant it to be. “I want to get home and unpack before lunch.”
By the time they had reached the cabin and climbed into the already-loaded SUV, Kate was surprised to realize how anxious she was to get back to Cedar City. Why? she wondered, as she backed slowly down the long, sloping driveway to the dirt road below. There’s nothing waiting for me in Cedar City. Not really, anyway. My job, I suppose, if I decide I want to go back to it. But what if I don’t? Then what? She sighed. Why can’t I make up my mind about my future, find some direction, some purpose? Not that being Jason’s mother isn’t enough, but—
“Look, Mom,” Jason cried suddenly, interrupting Kate’s thoughts as he pointed back toward their cabin. “I think I saw somebody walking around behind our cabin.”
Kate’s eyes opened wide as she braked to a stop, straining to make out the dark, shadowy figure skulking around near the back of their cabin. She was too far away to be sure, but she could think of only one person who would have the nerve to go sneaking about that way. It had to be Chester Greeley, snooping to see if they had gone. Who else could it possibly be?
“Should we go back and see who it is?” Jason asked.
Kate took a deep breath, realizing suddenly why it was she had been so anxious to head back to the city. It wasn’t that she was in a hurry to get home. It was that, for the f
irst time in all her visits to Panquitch, she was in a hurry to leave the lake. The realization both frightened and saddened her, leaving her with a feeling not unlike that which she had experienced each time she had lost a loved one. This lake had been her haven, her refuge. How could all that have changed in just two short days? Had she allowed her meetings with Chester Greeley and the Simons to overshadow her positive feelings for Panquitch Lake, to feed her active imagination until even the lake she had loved since childhood had become a fearful, foreboding enemy?
She shook her head, angry with herself for allowing her unreasonable fears to control her thoughts and actions. She would have to learn to ignore those fears, to take charge of her life and her emotions, once and for all.
“No,” she said firmly. “I’m sure it’s just Mr. Greeley, poking around to make sure we’ve gone, so there’s really no reason to go back and check, is there? After all, whether it’s Mr. Greeley or not, it certainly isn’t anything to worry about. Let’s go home.”