Timberline Trail

by Lockner, Loren

  “Jon’s not returning to Timberline?” asked Tia bleakly.

  “Ah, well, it doesn’t look that way.”

  Tia plastered on a fake smile. “I wish you both the best. Um... since Jon photographed many of the local animals, including that wolf, do you possibly think once your book goes into publication, I might get a copy?”

  “You betcha,” said Ben. “I’m sorry about all the trouble caused by that boy; you know Jon is a bit impulsive and rash.”

  “Strange, I never viewed him that way,” said Tia softly as Ben shifted uncomfortably. Everything Jon had ever done seemed so measured and deliberate.

  “Well then,” said the tall stocky man, thrusting a callused hand toward her. He held it for a long moment before uttering softly. “Is there anything you’d like me to say to Jon for you?”

  “No,” whispered Tia, fighting back tears. Ben squeezed her hand and strode off, his heavy boots clumping loudly upon the scrubbed clinic floor. Tia’s heart constricted painfully and she struggled to remove any images of Jon from her mind. That chapter of her life was over, once and for all.

  Chapter 13

  Uncle Jeffery proved as good as word and within a week Tia sat in a first class seat on Alaska Airlines heading for Los Angeles. Dr. Burns suggested she visit a specialist in the LA region since she’d probably need some sort of physical therapy over the next three months. So Tia reluctantly agreed to live with her uncle and Paul during that time. Unbeknownst to her, Paul had moved into her uncle’s overly large house and once in LA, planted in a sunny warm room on the second floor of his stylish Mediterranean house overlooking his expansive pool, she was thankful to be away from Alaska for a while.

  It had been sad to leave Mary and her stoic husband Joe, as well as the fussy Nancy and her proud son Tory, but she needed a change. She particularly needed escape from the persistent Roy who’d good-naturedly hovered about her, declaring his eternal love and devotion the entire time she convalesced. He had been helpful, ordering her a brand new green Chevy Tahoe 4x4, which he promised to park at her cabin just before she returned home.

  “Now this 4.8 Liter is 8 cylinders and should give you enough horsepower to pull yourself out of the deepest drift,” he announced proudly, and Tia was grateful really. He was just . . . not Jon. So, the cool quietness of her uncle’s house, decorated with Paul’s colorful works and overlooking swaying palm trees, proved a pleasant and healing change.

  Marilyn remained a constant visitor and Tia enjoyed her cousin’s laughter and perceptive comments about LA society. Marilyn had taken on the task of redecorating several of her father’s rooms and loved to spread out her plans, seeking Tia’s often hilarious opinions. Though physical therapy proved excruciating and tedious, Tia diligently pursued sessions four days a week, gradually regaining the flexibility and balance she’d possessed before in her left leg. Tia postponed her trip to Glacier Bay, deciding that even though the best season had passed she still needed to research her novel.

  Not once did she hear from Jon and only twice received e-mails from Ben indicating their book on Alaskan wildlife was now complete and at the publishers. In his second note he vaguely indicated they were headed to some remote island in Indonesia to photograph the friendly orangutan before taking on Africa. Even Paul’s chipper attitude and glorious cooking couldn’t fill the empty gap in her heart and by the end of November Tia announced she needed to return to Alaska.

  “But the weather’s so cold,” protested Paul, shuddering at the memory of the frigid night he’d spent at Jon’s campsite before taking the snowmobile into Timberline.

  “I’ve had a wonderful stay,” insisted Tia, gazing affectionately at her Uncle Jeffery and his younger counterpart, “but I mustn’t overstay my welcome. You know what Ben Franklin said about fish and guests.”

  “That was three days,” retorted Uncle Jeffery, who smiled anyway. “Are you sure you’re absolutely comfortable with the break-up of the firm?”

  “Yes,” said Tia, having no regrets about the dissolution of her brother’s company and the subsequent sale of her uncle’s. She’d split the company three ways after weathering Marilyn and her Uncle Jeffery’s complaints. It was funny, but after RK’s death, the workaholic Uncle Jeffery decided he wanted no part of the firm and sold it to a friendly competitor for way above what he felt was the market price. Jeffery decided to take part of the proceeds and invest in a gallery catering to unknown artists in Los Angeles County and finally, after all these years, start up that made-to-order furniture store he’d always dreamed of.

  The sale of her brother’s company had established a huge memorial fund in Andrew Carson’s name and settled a large sum upon his widow. Additional money was sent to Jon Simons’ parents, who agreed to set up a scholarship fund in their slain daughter’s name for needy minorities and impoverished women in the Las Vegas area. Tia felt there could have been no better tribute to Jenny than that and sincerely wished she could have known the young woman. She heard second-hand through Jon’s parents that their son was infinitely grateful for her kindness, but he’d sent her no personal message. Now, as the dark shadows of her past finally disappeared, Tia realized it was time to return to Alaska and start over.

  “So you’re taking that trip to Glacier Bay?” asked her Uncle, as the three wandered around LAX waiting for her flight to be announced.

  Tia nodded, massaging her hip absentmindedly. “The publisher is demanding a final copy of the novel by Christmas and I’ve got to adhere to her time line. Eliza’s been very patient with me during my convalescence, but the book is long overdue.”

  “I worry about you all alone in that cabin,” protested Uncle Jeffery, and Tia smiled warmly at him.

  “You built it strong and stout. The only thing it couldn’t keep out was unwanted human intruders. Besides, I think there’s probably a friendly gray loafer wolf still wandering about looking for a free handout. Who could ask for a better watchdog than that?”

  Paul grimaced, remembering RK’s torn throat as Tia embraced the pair, noting how happy and fit they appeared now that her uncle had retired and the nightmare surrounding Andrew and her brother’s deaths were finally resolved. They waved energetically to her as she boarded the plane and headed for the cold dark north.

  Glacier Bay was more beautiful than Tia remembered and she snapped at least a hundred photos of the large circular bay studded with broken-off pieces of glacier floating docilely in the cold November air. Harbor seals jumped and dashed into the water, swimming gracefully, completely contradicting their clumsy laborious movements on land. The puffin was literally everywhere as it bobbed upon the water, preened itself on white-stained rocks, and soared overhead on thick wings. Tia took countless photos of the little bird, delighting at its bright red beak and stout clumsy body. After the first roll Tia realized she’d truly found the right supporting character for her book. After four days in Glacier Bay, her photos sorted and Fed-Exed to her illustrator, Tia headed for her log cabin.

  Mary and Nancy had prepped the cabin for her homecoming and as they drove her out over the rough road, snow chains clanking on Mary’s old pickup, Tia gave a cry of delight at the smoke issuing from her river rock chimney. The entry door opened wide and an even taller Tory gave her a bear hug.

  Nancy leaned over and whispered in her ear. “He’s got straight A’s this year so far and now works with Roy down at the station fixing snowmobiles and whatnot. He just took his SAT’s and is hoping to hear from several colleges within a couple of months.”

  “Where did he apply?” asked Tia, noting Nancy’s proud expression.

  “The University of Washington, as well as Calgary and Fairbanks. He said he’s not so sure about leaving this old state of Alaska and I don’t blame him. Alaska is our home after all. Oh! There’s someone else here who’s itching to see you.”

  Out of the kitchen stepped the stocky Roy, a smile covering his broad face. “Welcome home Tia! They put me to work in the kitchen and I made some of my famous Texas-s
tyle chili.”

  He held a knife in one hand and a half-cut-up onion in the other, his eyes streaming.

  “I can hardly wait,” she joked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at all the unexpected attention.

  Roy noticed her discomfort and surprisingly moved close to Nancy and draped the arm holding the onion around her shoulders. Mary grimaced, never having had an opportunity to warn Tia about this development.

  “Nancy and I have been seeing a lot of each other. I hope you don’t mind Tia?” he said shyly.

  While ten years spanned their ages, she realized they were definitely a good match. Roy was hardworking, dependable, and good with his hands. Best yet, he’d always helped Tory out whenever he needed it, finally providing him with a good part-time job. Since there was definitely a dearth of single men in Timberline, Tia could only applaud Nancy’s choice.

  Dinner proved joyful and tasty that night as they feasted upon Roy’s delicious Texas chili accompanied by hot cornbread and a stunning leftover peach pie Nancy had frozen for a special occasion. Tory chattered excitedly about all the colleges he’d toured and Mary reported how business was so good that her cousin George and his wife Grace most likely would join their small trucking company in January and move to Timberline. She was going to be grateful for the help since it took all her time organizing her men’s routes.

  It was pitch dark by three p.m. as Mary heaved herself into her rusty old Suburban and honked her horn, followed by Nancy, Tory, and Roy who trailed her in his Ford Explorer. They hooted and waved, creeping cautiously up her steep driveway as Tia flashed her porch light at their departing vehicles. As their tail lights disappeared up the road, sadness washed over her. All seemed to be doing well, so why did she feel so blue?

  Was this solitary existence the best life had to offer her? Was she destined to live here alone now that her immediate family was gone? She was wise enough to realize her life didn’t mesh with the LA scene or could no more live with her Uncle or Marilyn than bring back her parents. Only Jon had been like her, she moaned; only Jon had understood her.

  Tia thrust her traitorous thoughts away. Jon had left by his own choice! That lone wolf nature she’d sensed and reached out to was not willing to hook up with a woman who’d proven she’d never really trusted him. Why, oh why, hadn’t she mustered up the courage to tell Jon she loved him before it was too late? Tia leaned over the washbasin and wept into her hands. She’d gotten what she deserved and now had to live with it.

  It was nearly Christmas and Tia worked hard on a new novel about three roly-poly grizzly cubs that’d gotten separated from their mother. Though Tia could envision the bears’ baby faces and rough paws, she had difficulty throwing herself into her work, lacking the exuberance normally accompanying her while working on a new project. Every morning Tia woke up with an ache in her heart and only just managed, through effort and diligence, to get through her day. She exercised on the stationary bike and ran her treadmill as if training for the Olympics, even lifting weights in an effort to keep herself fit and sane.

  Within two weeks after returning from LA, she received the first two sketches from her illustrator. They were exquisite, the puffin’s comical face and twinkling eyes a perfect foil for her inquisitive little Inuit hero. Tia quickly got back to her, indicating the prints were exactly what she wanted and how positive she was that this book would be one of their best.

  Mary ventured out to see her on the 19th of December and Tia prepared her special molasses-baked beans which had slowly simmered overnight. As the two women sat at the cheery table Mary asked the question Tia dreaded.

  “So what are you planning to do over the holidays Sweetie?”

  “I’ve got an invitation to visit my uncle and cousin down in LA.”

  “That should be nice. At least you’ll get some of that famous Los Angeles sun. I do dearly miss the sun this time of year.”

  Actually Tia had declined their offer to come down to LA, having only returned to her cabin three weeks earlier, but didn’t want Mary to worry about her. Mary had such a tendency to fuss, particularly since she’d let Tia know in no uncertain terms what a mistake she’d made in not pursuing Jon to try and mend fences.

  Mary left at two, hoping to return to Timberline before the sun set, but left Tia with a huge present to place under the little fir tree Tia had decorated only the day before.

  “It’s one of a kind Tia, just like that man of yours. I want you to think about that when you open your gift.”

  As Mary’s tail lights disappeared up the driveway, Tia chided herself regarding her white lie and wondered if perhaps she’d made a mistake in coming back here. Everything was so still and lonely and even Sugar had seemed to abandon her. Twice Tia had caught a glimpse of the loafer since returning to her cabin, and then only from a far distance. For the first time Tia thought about leaving Alaska and heading south for warmer climes.

  Tia pondered the once-revolting idea more while basking in front of her cheery fire and sipping some hot cocoa. Marilyn had offered her condo to Tia anytime she wanted it, indicating the place echoed way too much for her taste, tastefully hinting she could use a roommate. Tia felt lethargic, almost as if she was sinking into a deep depression more severe than after her father had died.

  Her short-wave radio buzzed and Tia roused herself enough to pick up the handset. It was Nancy Leukowski on the line.

  “I’m sorry to bother you Tia, but the mail just came in and there’s two letters for you, both marked urgent. I thought you might want to know since it’s still early enough in the day if you wanna come in. I thought maybe you could stay the night?”

  Tia hesitated for only a moment, reluctant to leave the cocooning warmth of her log cabin, but her curiosity was pricked.

  “Alright” she said, “I’ll be right in.”

  Right in, of course, meant two hours later, and as she pulled her new 4x4 in front of the Timberline Lodge, she noticed Nancy had been as good as her word about decorating the outside of the lodge with gaudy Christmas lights that flashed red and green. Tia grinned to herself; she might be deep in the wilds of Alaska but there was enough of LA right here to satisfy anyone. She slipped out of the warm interior of her truck and headed toward the reception area of the small lodge. Nancy fussed behind the counter with a display she’d fashioned out of pinecones surrounding a small Nativity.

  “Oh there you are,” she cried happily, and reached under the counter, pulling out two large envelopes.

  “You can see this one has been all over the universe,” said Nancy, pointing to its battered packaging. Return to Sender, Address Unknown was stamped in bold red letters across the front.

  “Lookie here, they sent it to Timberline in the Northwest Territories; no wonder it didn’t make it.”

  Tia’s heart caught in her throat. In the upper left hand corner, in neat printing, were the simple letters J. Simons.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped, ripping open the envelope. Inside, a short letter folded around one small floppy disk.

  Nancy studied her suddenly white face. “What is it honey, are you okay?”

  “It’s from Jenny Simons,” Tia responded, her heart pounding. “The disk she sent me so long ago finally made it.”

  “Well they don’t call it snail mail for nothing,” said Nancy, gulping.

  The letter inside was brief.

  Dear Ms. Heath, it said:

  You don’t know me, but my name is Jenny Simons, and I’ve discovered some information regarding your brother, RK Heath’s possible involvement in Corporate Espionage. Apparently an idea developed by your father was stolen by his partner, Andrew Carson, and is in the process of being sold to a firm in Tokyo by your brother. The enclosed disk contains all the information necessary to back up my suspicions. Please make a copy and send it to my brother Jon Simons at P. O. Box 712, Vancouver, B.C. There’s a possibility I may have been discovered, and beg you to contact the proper authorities. I trust you simply because RK doesn’t. Thanks for helping me
do the right thing.

  Yours,

  Jenny K. Simons

  A solitary tear trickled down Tia’s face as she visualized the soon to be deceased woman’s desperate attempt to divert the disk away from her employer and into the hands of someone who would expose the whole sordid affair.

  “I promise Jenny,” she said out loud, and Nancy nodded, having also read the letter Tia spread over the smooth wooden counter of the reception desk.

  “Nancy, will you turn this over to Jayce as soon as possible? He’ll know exactly who to forward it to.”

  “Of course,” said Nancy, reaching across to place a gentle hand upon her shoulder. “That was Jon Simons’ sister right?”

  “Yeah,” said Tia sadly. “The one murdered in Las Vegas.”

  “And here’s the second letter. I’m going to rush this over to Jayce right now and then stop by to pick up Tory at Roy’s. Just tell Gerald you need a room and we’ll talk later.” Nancy gave the younger woman a reassuring hug before scurrying away.

  Tia wiped away her tears and wandered into the rustic lounge of the Timberline Lodge to sink into a high-backed leather easy chair. Poor, poor Jenny. How could she have known her letter would be so incorrectly routed, leaving her desperate plea unheard? A discreet tap on her shoulder forced her to open her blurry eyes.

  Mary peered anxiously at her. “I noticed your truck outside. Is everything alright Tia?”

  “It is now,” she whispered, and spent the next few minutes relating how the lost letter had finally made its way to Timberline.

  “And what’s that?” asked Mary, lowering her heavy frame into the comfortable chair opposite her.

  “I don’t know.” Tia tore open the end of the other large envelope. Inside, a letter written in a large masculine hand was accompanied by a white business envelope. She gulped before reading the short letter to her waiting friend.