Along the Broken Road (24 page)

Edward sucked a deep breath and pivoted his ankle out as if protecting his attributes. “We’ll stay here,” he said and they all left in their respective directions. Jeremiah was headed to Four Rivers, where their dad had taken them camping as kids, and Ian was headed to town. It was already five in the evening by the time he got to the ice cream shop. He drove the old work truck with only one thing on his mind. Find Charlee.

Rod was cleaning the awning when Ian got there. He lowered the bucket and scrub brush when he saw him.

“Hey, Ian.” But as soon as he said it, Ian watched his demeanor change. Rod knew something was wrong.

“Charlee’s missing.”

Rod swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes shot left and right as if she’d be right there in his periphery. “What happened?”

“Something about Gruber at the hospital blaming her for . . .” Ian threw his hands up. “I don’t even know what. I just have to find her.”

Rod nodded, worked the muscles in his jaw. “Okay. Sit down.”

They sat at the picnic table, the sky dark and the wind soft. Rodney raised his hands. “What do you know?”

Ian had the details in exact order in his mind; a man used to giving information in high-stress situations, he spoke the words mechanically. “She gassed up. Stopped at the hardware store. Took camping gear, tent, lantern.” He had to swallow before continuing. “And her shotgun.”

“Well, thank God she’s not out there without it.”

Ian frowned. Was he the only one concerned with Charlee doing harm to herself? “Where would she go, Rod?”

He rested his hands over his face, blocking out the present, drawing the past. Ian could see him trying to remember. “You got something?”

Rod shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe. When I found her after Richard—”

Ian leaned toward him, fisting his hands because he wanted Rod to hurry up and it seemed if he shook him like a rag doll, that would help. “What do you mean,
found he
r
?”

“She’d been gone a couple of weeks. Longest ever. I took three days off and went searching. Have a friend in the sheriff’s office in Laver and he found her Jeep. She’d been spending evenings in a hole-in-the-wall bar for a few days. Walking to the cheap motel next door. I got to the bar and went in after her. Thank God I had the sense to call my buddy. She was just getting ready to walk out with some redneck in camo pants and a Hooters T-shirt.”

Ian closed his eyes, blocking the image of Charlee with someone like that.

Rod shook his head. “It didn’t even look like her, you know? Gray and thin and just . . . just beat down.”

Ian had to swallow.

“Charlee loves so deeply. She feels everything to the very core of her being. And is all-in when she loves someone. She lost her mom. Lost her dad. Richard was a poor replacement, but to her, he was everything.”

The guilt swelled to a place where Ian could no longer contain it. “It’s my fault she’s gone.”

Rod leaned back. “What? You said . . .”

He sniffed. “I know. That was just the beginning. She came looking for me and heard a message from her brother on my cell phone. He was asking if I’d talked to Charlee about selling.”

For a thin guy, Rod flew out of the seat and landed on the balls of his feet, fists in the air.

Ian stood too, hands out in surrender. “Look, I wasn’t planning to convince her—”

He stopped talking when the first fist flew at his face. Ian ducked right and Rod found his footing and threw another punch. He grunted. “Do you know what you did?” It was a scream and a growl and Ian didn’t blame him for it.

“Rod! I wasn’t trying to convince her to sell; that was never my intention. I don’t want her to sell. It’s her connection to her mother, and Major Mack remodeled the shed and built outbuildings. Jeremiah wants her to sell because he and her other brothers worry about her.”

Rod’s fists were still up, but Ian could see him tiring, even trying to digest the words. “Miah wants her to sell?”

“Yeah. I told him it’d never happen.”

Rod’s hands dropped. “Sit down.”

Ian mustered a tiny smile. “You sure you’re not going to go all Jason Bourne on me again?”

“You need to hear the details about Richard.”

Hear about the man who’d broken the heart of the woman Ian loved? No thanks. But he knew he had no choice.

“Richard didn’t love Charlee. He was after her property. That’s it. End of story. Never cared about her, just the land. Wanted her to sell and open a joint account. Then they’d get married and blah blah blah.”

“How’d she find out?”

“She heard he’d been spotted at the Neon Moon with a busty redhead. She didn’t believe it, so she slipped on a camo jacket and a ball cap, tucked her hair underneath and slid into a booth where she could hear him talking. Jerk bragged about it. Right there. In the Neon Moon. Idiot didn’t even have the sense to go somewhere out of town.”

Ian frowned. “How do you know all this?”

“I was with her.”

Jealousy shouldn’t have been a sensation shooting down his spine, but there it was. Fresh and hot and disappearing as quickly as it came. “You’re a good friend, Rod.”

He lifted and dropped one shoulder. “She ditched me. Hit the road. Once I could get away from work for three days, I went looking for her.”

“That’s when you arrived at the hole-in-the-wall?”

“Yeah,” Rod said, but his voice sounded far away. “After almost two weeks.”

And though Ian needed to know what happened next, he also knew recall could take time and he shouldn’t interrupt.

“We went back to her hotel.”

Ian swallowed, fisted his hands at his sides.

“I put her in the shower.” His eyes flashed to Ian’s. “Dressed. She was in jean shorts and a tank.”

Ian drew long, slow, steady breaths. This man may well have saved Charlee’s life that night. Still, it was nothing he wanted to hear.

“She kept talking about . . .” His words trailed off. And Ian leaned forward.

“She kept talking about . . . Murder Rock.”

Ian’s world closed on the words. “Murder Rock?”

“Yeah.” Rod blinked several times and Ian could see him trying to put it all together. “Murder Rock is at the base of The Mountain of Tears. It’s maybe fifty miles from here. She kept talking about how the Indians must have felt when they’d been told they would have a safe place provided for them, only to find out they’d been drawn into a holler where they were trapped by a renegade group of militia. It’s one of the worst historical tragedies in our area.”

“You think she’d go there?”

“I think she was going there when I found her. If she survived that barrel-chested hulk of a mountain man.” Rod shook off the image. “Yeah. That’s where she is. I’ll go with you.”

No. That wasn’t what Ian wanted and wouldn’t be what Charlee needed. She needed him. “I want to go alone, Rod.” It was an imposing statement that left little room for discussion.

Rod stood, stared up at the early evening sky. “You love her?”

Ian came to rest at his feet. “I’d die for her.”

Rod laughed without humor. “You will. Over and over and over again.”

Ian frowned, something so cryptic in Rod’s words. Then he remembered. This man had loved Charlee for a long time. Years, probably. And if Ian was reading the signs right, he’d already died for her once or twice.

Rod pointed an accusing finger at him. “You make this right, soldier. You make it right or I’ll kill you myself.”

And Ian knew it was true. Rod followed him to the work truck to mark the place on the atlas. He held the end of the pen in his mouth and positioned the map on the steering wheel. “Watch the roads going in. We’ve had a lot of rain and there can be slide-offs. Also, if you hear rocks falling or see pebbles dropping, get out of the way. Rock slides happen there all the time.”

Wow. Was there any good news?

“Only one road in and out, so she can’t get away.”

There was that.

“Good luck.” Rodney stuck out his hand for Ian to shake.

But Ian surprised Rodney by grabbing his shoulders and trapping him in a hug.

“Find her.”

Ian smiled. “I won’t let you down.”

CHAPTER 15

Ian put in a call to Jeremiah as he drove the winding road to Murder Rock. “I think she’s at The Mountain of Tears. I’m headed there now.”

Though the reception was sketchy, with Jeremiah’s voice growing fuzzy, then clear, then fuzzy, Ian made out the reply. “Okay. Not sure how long phone service will last. If you find her, try to let me know. I’m at Hercules Glades, but no sign of her or the Jeep.”

“I’ll keep you posted.” Ian hung up the phone then decided to check in at the retreat.

Wynona answered on the first ring. “Any news?”

“I think I’m on the right track. Not sure I can call once I’ve gotten to her, though.”

“Goodness, where are you, Ian?”

“Mountain of Tears. Any word on Mr. Gruber?”

“He’s stable. Still won’t see anyone. I’m headed there now. Darn stubborn man. He can’t have me thrown out of the hospital.”

“Why’d he tell them no visitors? I never got that part of the story.”

“Arnold has been living a lie. He hasn’t had any contact with his daughter for eight years. The gifts, the phone calls, none of it was real.”

Ian rubbed a hand over his face. “He was sending presents to himsel
f
?”

“Yes, Ian. And now everyone knows. Poor man. He’s humiliated. But he’s met his match if he thinks a little request for no visitors is enough to keep me away.”

“You really love him, don’t you?”

There was a long pause. “I love everyone at the retreat. They’re my family.”

“But you’re in love with Mr. Gruber, aren’t you, Wynona?” He’d seen it. At the wedding when Gruber and Wynona floated around the dance floor and she practically glowed.

“I never thought I’d feel that way about another man. And certainly not a crusty, cranky old oil painter.”

Ian chuckled.

“When Horace died, I thought I was dying right along with him. If not physically, emotionally.”

Ian held the phone a little closer to his ear. “How’d you survive it, Wynona?”

Because he really needed to know this in case he made it to Murder Rock and his worst fears were realized. What if Charlee . . . what if . . . He squeezed his eyes shut and blocked the image.

“Prayer. I survived it with prayer.”

Ian swallowed the cotton in his throat. “You think you could offer up a few of those powerful words now?”

He could almost see the sweet smile appearing on Wynona’s face. “I already am, young man. Now go find her. And let her know she’s loved beyond measure.”

That he could do.

At the base of Murder Rock, a cattle gate blocked the road leading up into the mountain pass. He jumped from the truck and was relieved to find no lock. Ian shoved the gate to the side, mud caking along the bottom as he went. He pulled through then reclosed the gate to discourage anyone else from taking the road.

The truck was a four-wheel drive so he figured it’d navigate the mountain fairly easily. The engine droned louder as the grade increased. A full moon hung above as the setting sun trekked downward. He got stuck once and had to jam some tree limbs under the tires, making him wonder if the four-wheel drive no longer worked. The ruts in the road narrowed to one slender line snaking through the trees and brush that continually feathered the sides of the vehicle. Near the mountaintop, the landscape cleared a bit, allowing him to see more. But the sun had set, and only its haze from the horizon gave light. He stopped where the road seemed to end and spotted the Jeep through the brush. Ian’s heart beat faster as he pulled alongside.

He cut the engine and jumped from the truck, eyes focusing on a golden glow deeper in the woods. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Charlee?”

No answer. But he knew she had to be there. He jogged into the tree line where the campfire burned bright and shadowed a domed tent just to the right. He couldn’t see anything but rocks and the tent. Then, one of the shadowy stones moved, coming to life, head and legs appearing first. It was Charlee; she’d been curled up into a ball.

“Are you okay?” He was out of breath from fear of what he’d find. Now, seeing her, alive, all the adrenaline raced out of him.

She mumbled an answer.

“Charlee, you scared me to death.” He knew the last thing she needed right now was someone scolding her, but the words rushed out before he could stop them. He made quick work of getting to her, but she stumbled back as he neared, so he stopped, put his hands up and waited.

Her eyes flashed in the fire, throwing sparks around the darkened campsite. There was a partially empty bottle of something sitting near where she’d been and when the fire moved, it flashed upon it like a beacon. “How’d you find me?” Her words weren’t slurred, but they weren’t exactly clear either.

“Talked to Rod.”

Surprising him, she threw her head back and laughed. “Oh yes. Your new friend. My, haven’t you been making the friends since you’ve been here?”

The air thickened with accusation.

“First Rodney. Then my brother.” Charlee bent and grabbed a large stick from beside her.

“Charlee, your brother wanted me to talk to you. I told him I’d do it.”

“Of course you did. Because that’s what the men in my life do. Run around behind my back making decisions for me.” She moved dangerously close to the fire and used the stick to stoke it up. With each jab of the branch, the fire threw off sparks that rose then disappeared above the ridge.

“I told him I’d do it, but I also told him it wouldn’t do any good. You weren’t leaving. And nothing he’d say or do could convince you to.”

Inquisitive eyes studied him over the flames. She worked her jaw. “Really?” There was no warmth, no measure of surrender in the word. There was also no sarcasm. Just a flat word revealing nothing.

“I don’t want you to leave. The retreat is all you have of your mom. And now your dad. I mean, his handprint is all over the place there. I can’t imagine leaving it.”

“You mean
me
leaving it.”

Ian had been staring at the fire when he said that. He looked over to find her head tilted and her hip cocked. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

She dropped the stick, its blackened point landing in the fire and creating another gust of golden sparks. “You said
you
can’t imagine leaving it.”

No he hadn’t. His mind retraced his words.

She lifted her hands and dropped them. “So what’s your play here, Soldier Boy? You going to try to convince me to go home tonight? What’s the mission? What’s your objective?”

He raised his hands in the same fashion. “My mission was to find you.” The wind picked up around her, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“And then?” She gathered it at the base of her neck.

Ian shrugged. “That’s all I got.”

She snorted. “Some soldier.”

Ian took a tiny step closer. “Charlee, all I could think about was getting to you. Making sure you’re okay. After that, we could figure out how to lessen the pain.”

Her eyes, usually blue-gray, were golden globes in the firelight, taking on the orangey hues of molten sun. She shook her head. “I already have a friend for that. Name’s Jim Beam.”

Ian’s heart ached at the acid in her tone. “That’s not the only way to deal with pain, you know.”

She squared her shoulders. “It’s the best way I’ve found.”

Ian moved past her and picked up the bottle. Charlee stiffened. He gauged the amount she’d had. No use arguing with someone who’d been drinking. His eyes went from the bottle to Charlee. “You’ve been here a while. My guess is in your heart you know you don’t want to do this. You’re fighting yourself on it.”

Her mouth quirked and Ian knew he’d hit a nerve. He plunged deeper. “Maybe there was a time when you felt like this was all you had. The only way to deal, but I think now you know it doesn’t answer the questions. Just shoves them aside for a while.”

When the breeze kicked up again, bounding off the mountains and shifting the smoke, Charlee folded her hands over her arms, hugging herself and holding herself together.

“What happened when you were twelve?” He dropped down at the edge of the fire and placed the bottle between him and Charlee. A motion he knew would confuse her, but if he tried to put it out of her reach, it would only make her want it more.

“When I ran away?”

“Mm hmm.”

Slowly, she sat down beside him, letting a long exhale accompany her. “I just started walking down the road. We lived on a dirt road and it was dark. I remember being scared and even the road looked . . . I don’t know . . . broken.” She stopped talking for a few moments and Ian wanted to drag her over and hold her in his arms. He fisted his hands to keep them from reaching.

Charlee breathed beside him. He tuned in to the sound of each inhale and exhale. “I was scared that I’d let them all down. Mom was gone. And it was up to me.”

Her hand flattened on the ground, fingers splayed, then tightened into a ball. “I knew I could never fill her shoes. I just had to get away.”

“Someone picked you up?”

“No. I just kept walking. It was so dark and so scary, I was afraid to turn around. It felt like there was some monster or something behind me and if I turned, I’d be a goner. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. I could hear coyotes in the distance. Twice, I could see the outline of animals along the roadside where the woods met the gravel. The more I walked, the stronger I felt. Less afraid. I walked right past those animals. Nothing attacked me.”

They sat quietly for a while. “Then, a car picked me up at the edge of town. There were girls in back, a little older than me, teenagers, and a mom and dad in front. It was a beat-up old rusty car and it smelled like motor oil and sweat, but I remembered feeling safe. And envious that these girls had two parents. And I wondered if they knew how lucky they were.”

“So you went with them?”

Charlee’s words were soft, as if speaking too loudly would bring all the pain right back to her. “Yeah. That night, we were watching TV and it was really late. A school night. And the late movie was on. I never got to watch the late-night movie at home.”

Fire flashed down Ian’s spine. “Charlee, did they hurt you?”

“What?” Her eyes were haunted, so far away. “No. I felt warm and safe and in a little while, the pain didn’t hurt as bad.”

Ian bit the inside of his cheek to keep the anger down. What kind of people picked up a twelve-year-old and didn’t report her to the police? Flying into a rage wouldn’t help Charlee. He just needed to be still and let her talk.
Shut up and talk
, Mr. Gruber had once told him.

“The next morning they were all gone. Girls to school, parents to work. They left me a note to make myself at home and so I did until my dad finally found me.”

“Then?”

“For a few years, I could just run away when things got bad. Sometimes, no one even knew. I’d tell my dad I was staying at a friend’s house. When I hit high school, running wasn’t enough. I needed more. When I’d drink, it dulled the hurt.”

“And it still does,” Ian said.

She nodded.

Ian’s phone rang, causing them both to jump. He answered. “Yes. She’s with me . . . We’ll be home tomorrow morning.” He glanced over at her. Her eyes had gone darker and he hoped the call hadn’t undone the progress he was making. Of course, he should have called as soon as he spotted her. But his mind had blanked.

“My brother?” she asked.

Ian shook his head. “No. Wynona.”

Charlee’s mouth turned into a bow. Her gaze was troubled. “I’ve caused them all so much pain,” she whispered.

“Yeah.” He hadn’t meant to say that. It just popped out of his mouth. “You scared us all to death, Charlee. My heart nearly gave out when I found out you’d left with a gun.”

Her gaze turned to ice on him. “I’d never harm myself.”

He snagged the bottle and held it up between them. “Really?” The liquid sloshed inside. “Because this would suggest differently.”

She turned back to the fire and drew her knees to her chest. “I guess you wouldn’t understand.”

At that, Ian’s hands fisted, his knuckles whitened, grip tightening on the bottle so much he thought it might break beneath his skin. He flew up from beside the fire, drew back and flung the bottle so hard it shattered against a nearby tree while a myriad of painful memories skated through his mind. “I’ve watched my friends die on a road when I knew I couldn’t get to them in time. I held your dad in my arms while he drew his last breath. He was my hero, Charlee. He was the kind of man I didn’t know existed.”

Charlee stood too, arms slowly falling to her sides.

Ian took a few angry steps toward her, teeth gritted. “And he died saving me. So, please. Don’t
ever
say I don’t understand.”

Silence filled the air around them. He stood at her feet, looking down into sobered eyes. Her mouth made a motion before the word could slip between her lips. “What?”

All the air left Ian’s lungs. And all the pain of that day rose from that deep hole in his heart he’d locked it into. “He . . .” But he couldn’t say it. Couldn’t utter the words because if he did, the universe would know it was he who should be dead and Major Mack alive.

Charlee grabbed his arms, short fingernails digging in. She shook him. “What did you say?” Her voice rose with her insistence.

And Ian knew. He knew he’d have to tell her. Once again, he’d let the major down. He tried to form words, but couldn’t. Scattered memories threatened to take shape but he’d worked so hard for so long to stop them, there was no energy left to complete the task. A voice, softer now, Charlee’s. Her grip loosened on his arms.

“Ian, tell me what happened.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. Blocking out the memory, blocking out the pain. But even in the darkest part of his mind, it was there. The sound of gunfire, he and the major both seeing the man dressed in dirty clothes and stepping into the doorway where they’d been pinned down. They didn’t know where he’d come from; the other shooters were across the road and also inside a makeshift bunker. “He just appeared in the door.”

Somewhere above them, an owl called. The woods were darker, moonlight crowded by clouds. Ian had to swallow before he could continue. “First the guy just stood there. It seemed like forever. No one moved. A dusty cloth wrapped around his neck and shoulders, his eyes were black and first frightened, then they changed as he raised the gun. Major Mack screamed and jumped in front of me. I raised my rifle and shot just as the bullet hit his throat.”