A Family To Cherish (11 page)

A surge of emotion caught Barbara by surprise. Was it possible? Could they really be a family someday?

A
strange thing happened during the crisp, autumn days Barbara spent with Janee on the mountain. As the two hiked and played games and popped corn in the fireplace and watched sunsets together and counted stars, they became friends of sorts. Barbara couldn't believe what was happening. As impossible as it seemed, she and Janee were having fun together.

Perhaps it was because they had no other distractions. They had each other. They had no choice but to find things to entertain themselves. And yet it was more than that. It was as if the cabin had given them a fresh start, a new outlook. Gone were the old animosities, the wariness, the defensive, self-imposed walls that each had erected.

On Friday night Doug drove back up the mountain, and Barbara and Janee greeted him as if he
were a long-lost traveler. “We're having hot dogs, Uncle Doug,” Janee exclaimed. “We roast them on sticks in the fireplace. They taste so good.”

Doug swept Janee up in his arms and planted a loud, smacking kiss on her forehead. “Is that so? I bet marshmallows taste real good over the fire, too.”

“They do, Uncle Doug. We roasted lots of marshmallows. They get all black and crispy, but inside they're soft and gooey.”

“I remember those, too.” Doug set Janee down and reached for Barbara. “Looks like you two are having a pretty good time roughing it in the woods.”

Barbara felt her face grow warm. Why was it so hard to admit to Doug how special this week had been? “We've managed quite well, thank you.”

“Look at the little people we made, Uncle Doug.” Janee thrust several pinecone figures into his hands.

“Well, well, what have we here?”

“It's a family, Uncle Doug. A mommy and daddy and their little girl and their cute little kitty. A family. Like us.”

Doug looked at Barbara and raised one eyebrow, a curious grin playing on his lips. “Looks to me like a lot has happened since I left my two girls here in the wilderness.”

Barbara brushed off his remark with a sly chuckle. “We'll talk about it later. Right now, I'd better check the chili for our hot dogs.”

Later, after Janee was asleep, Barbara and Doug sat on the front porch, rocking in the creaking oak swing. The brisk air was fragrant with the sweet, piquant scents of the forest. Doug slipped his arm around Barbara and rubbed her bare arm. “Cold?”

“No. Just right.”

He inhaled deeply. “This is the life, huh? Solitude. Peace and quiet. Time stands still in this place. Gives you a chance to catch your breath and clear your head.”

Barbara nestled her head against his shoulder. “It was a rough week for you, wasn't it?”

“Not one of my best. Chaos at the hospital, of course, with all the quake injuries. And tons of red tape trying to get something done on the house.”

“Did you find out anything?”

“Yeah, I finally got someone out there to survey the damage. They say the house is sound structurally, but it still needs a lot of work.”

“Then I guess Janee and I won't be going home anytime soon.”

“Afraid not, hon. Frankly, it could be months, with labor in such short supply.”

Barbara looked up at him, tracing the solid line of his jaw. “I can't put my life on hold that long, Doug. You know that.”

“We may have no choice—unless you want to rent a place in town. But like I said, they're in short supply these days, too. Besides, it looks like you and Janee are doing very well together here. I haven't
seen the kid this happy since she came to live with us.”

Barbara nodded. “It's amazing what the change of scenery has done for her. And for me, too, I suppose. I don't quite know what to make of it.”

“Don't try to analyze it, Barb. Just be grateful for it.”

“I am. I almost feel like my old self, whoever that is. I thought I'd be the last one to admit this, Doug, but Janee's been good for me. We've been good for each other. I don't know why it couldn't have been like this back home.”

He nuzzled the top of her head. “Maybe you were afraid to let it happen, to let yourself care about a child again.”

“Maybe.” She gazed up at him. “Has it been that way for you, too?”

“What do you mean?” he asked warily.

“I'm not trying to start anything, Doug. I swear I'm not. But you brought it up, so I've got to say what I think. Maybe you're afraid of letting your emotions go and really loving someone because you're afraid of being hurt again. Maybe that's why you throw yourself into your work and spend so little time with us.”

He shrugged, his brow furrowed. “I don't know. Maybe. But it looks to me like you and Janee have done just fine without me.”

“It would have been more fun with you here.”

“I'm here now, and I'll prove I'm not afraid to
let my emotions go and experience a little love.” He lowered his head and kissed her on the lips, lightly, tantalizingly.

She traced the line of his lips with her fingertips. “I think you deliberately misunderstood my remark.”

“Love is love, Barbie, girl. And you've got me for the whole weekend.”

She slipped her hand around the back of his neck and murmured playfully, “Then we'll have to think of something exciting to do.”

“You want excitement? You've got it, baby.” He kissed her soundly, until she had to turn her head to catch her breath.

“Keep this up, Doug, and I'll feel like a teenager again.”

He whispered against her cheek, “Remember how we used to sit on this swing in the summertime kissing until your mom came out and shooed me away?”

Barbara drew back slightly and tucked several strands of hair behind her ear. “Speaking of those days, you won't believe who's back on the mountain.”

“Let me guess. Someone we both know and love?”

“Actually, he was never your favorite person.”

Doug made a guffawing sound low in his throat. “Great Scott! Not old lover boy, Trent.”

“How'd you guess?”

Doug sat back, his arm still around Barbara, but his ardor cooled for the moment. “What's he doing here? On vacation? I suppose his folks left him the cabin.”

“Yes, they did, but he's not here on vacation.”

“Don't tell me he moved here. Came with his wife, Sheila. I suppose they have a dozen kids by now.”

“No. None.” Barbara's voice grew solemn. Somehow it was hard to get the words out. A chill traveled up her backbone. “She died, Doug. Sheila died about a year ago. In an accident. Trent came here alone. He's grieving.”

Doug released her and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Well, we know what that's like, don't we?”

“I didn't want to tell him we still haven't found our way out of that long, dark tunnel. I wanted to be positive and encouraging and tell him everything would be fine. But I couldn't think of a thing to say, except ‘I'm sorry.'”

Doug sat back again and looked at Barbara with an expression she couldn't quite read. “So the guy's been over here a few times?”

“Once or twice. To say hello. To bring some kindling. That's all.” She searched Doug's eyes, noticing the way the moonlight and shadows played on his face. “You're not jealous, are you?”

Doug reared back with mock indignation. “Me?
Are you kidding? Why would I be jealous? I'm the one who won. I got the girl.”

She snuggled against his shoulder. “You sure did. For keeps.”

“Still, with me gone so much, I don't want him coming over here and getting any bright ideas.”

“For goodness' sake, what kind of ideas would he get?”

“That you're available again.”

“He knows better.”

“Well, I'd still keep an eye on him. I don't want him thinking he can cry on your shoulder whenever he pleases.”

“Cry? Are you serious? He's like you, Doug. He doesn't cry.”

“You say that like it's a fault.”

“Maybe it is.”

He stiffened and pulled away. “You're not going to get into that, are you?”

“Into what?”

“You know.”

She looked steadily at him and finally forced out the words, “You mean the fact that I never saw you cry over Caitlin?”

“I cried.”

“Once. When they told us she was gone.”

“I cried other times.”

“I never saw you.”

“Take my word for it.”

In a small voice she said, “You never cried with me.”

His voice took on a hard edge. “There's no law that says I've got to blubber all over the place when something bad happens.”

His words struck her like a slap. “Something bad? For crying out loud, Doug! Caitlin died!”

Doug put his head in his hands. “Do we have to get into this now, Barbara? For the first time in ages we were having a nice time. A pleasant conversation. No strings attached. No ulterior motives. No hidden agenda. Just a normal conversation like other people have.”

She couldn't let go of the knot of anger tightening in her chest. “You cried when Nancy died.”

“What's that got to do with anything?”

Barbara moved to her side of the swing and crossed her arms defensively. She was cold now, but she didn't want Doug to know. She was too proud to accept any meager crusts of comfort he might toss her now. Besides, how could she ever explain to him that she felt cheated because they had never wept in each other's arms over Caitlin? She couldn't even articulate why it mattered so much to her. Maybe she was being foolish. Or maybe she was crazy—still crazy with grief after all this time.

Doug stood up unceremoniously and jerked open the screen door. “I'm going in, Barb. Time to hit the sack. You coming?”

“Not now,” she murmured distractedly. She felt
hurt, and he couldn't even see it. And she couldn't make him understand. Was she trying to punish him for not knowing instinctively what she really needed? “You go on in, Doug. I'll be along in a while.”

His tone hardened. “Sure, Barbara. Why not?”

It was the same old story, each of them desperately needing something, but not what the other had to offer. As he stormed inside she heard him mutter to himself, “Why in blazes did I think tonight would be any different from any other night?”

She steeled herself, but jumped anyway when the screen door clattered shut behind him, leaving her sitting alone and cold in the wind-whispering darkness.

A
fter a jam-packed weekend of swimming, hiking and picnicking, on Sunday night Doug gathered his things, kissed Barbara and Janee goodbye and headed out to his car. Barbara walked with him, hating to see him go. It seemed they were just learning to relax and have fun as a family—and now he was leaving again.

When he suggested she and Janee ride back with him to pick up her car, she unthinkingly told him it wasn't necessary because Trent was glad to take her wherever she needed to go.

Doug merely frowned and mumbled something under his breath about his wife depending on an old beau and how it had better not become a habit. She kissed him and assured him he had nothing to worry about because she had eyes for only one man. He
smiled back, but there was a sadness, a detachment, in his expression, as if he didn't quite believe her.

Or maybe he was remembering their clash on the porch on Friday night and the undercurrent of disappointment that had lingered, shadowing their time together.

On Monday afternoon Barbara discovered that the back door lock wouldn't work. She phoned Trent and asked if he could come over and fix it. He had always been a handyman at heart and could repair anything. “Be there in a jiffy,” he told her, and five minutes later he was standing at her door with his toolbox.

While he worked on the lock, Barbara brewed him some coffee, and Janee regaled him with tales of her latest adventures. “When Uncle Doug was here, we saw a coyote in the woods,” she enthused. “He was so cute, I wanted to pet him. But he ran away.”

“Really?” said Trent. “Well, I'll tell you, gal, it's a good thing you didn't pet that little critter. They've got mighty sharp teeth.”

“That's what Uncle Doug told me. But we did lots of other stuff. We went swimming at the lake. And Uncle Doug took us in a sailboat. It rocked back and forth, like this—” she demonstrated with her arms “—and my nose got sunburned.”

“Sounds like you had quite a weekend for yourself, darlin'.” Trent's smile flashed from Janee to
Barbara. “Lake Arrowhead's a mighty nice place to have fun, isn't it?”

“Oh, it was
so
much fun, Uncle Trent!”

He grinned. “So it's Uncle Trent now, is it?”

Barbara handed him his coffee. “To Janee, everyone's an aunt or uncle. I hope you don't mind.”

“You kidding? I'm honored.”

“And we had a picnic on the beach,” Janee rushed on excitedly. “What was it called, Aunt Barbara?”

“Blue Jay Bay.”

“Oh, yeah. We had hamburgers and potato chips and chocolate brownies. They were so good. And we went to the children's museum, and—”

“Janee, you'd better stop and catch your breath,” Barbara urged. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the oak table near where Trent was working. “I've never heard her be such a little chatterbox.”

“It's a sign of a happy child,” said Trent with a note of wistfulness. “It shows you and Doug are doing something right. You're raising a wonderful little girl. I just wish Sheila and I could have had children.”

Barbara stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee. “Doug and I never thought we'd have another chance…after Caitlin.”

Trent smiled. “And look what God has done for you, giving you Janee.”

Barbara nodded. It had never occurred to her that
Janee could be the answer to her prayers. She had spent much time thinking of Janee as an unwanted obligation suddenly thrust upon her, but surely not as a blessing. Yet somehow in the past week the child had become just that—an incredible blessing.

“Uncle Trent, can you stay and help us build nesting boxes?”

“Nesting boxes?”

Janee nodded, her little chin jutting out. “Yes! For all the baby chickadees and bluebirds and nuthatches that have no home.”

Trent stood up and brushed off the knees of his jeans. “That sounds like quite a project to me. Sure, I'd be glad to help.”

“I'm not quite sure how to go about it,” said Barbara, “but I remember we used to make them when we were kids.”

“Sure, darlin'. You and I made nesting boxes for the birds the summer you were twelve and I was fourteen.”

“Yes, I remember. We were so idealistic, weren't we? That year we thought we could save every animal of the forest.”

“We did a lot of good that summer. Helped a lot of birds and animals. And had a whole lot of fun doing it.”

Barbara felt her cheeks grow pink. “I remember. Strange, isn't it? Suddenly it's all coming back as if it were yesterday.”

“We had a lot of good times together, Barb. Sometimes I wish I could go back.”

For the life of her, Barbara couldn't think of an appropriate response. Was Trent saying he wished he'd married her instead of Sheila? Or was he speaking out of a grieving heart that still mourned the wife he'd lost?

Janee saved the day by interrupting. “When are we going to make nesting boxes? I want to make them now!”

“And so we shall, kiddo,” said Trent, taking Janee's hands and swinging her arms wide. “I'll go home and get some supplies and be right back. Think you can wait that long?”

“I don't know,” Janee said seriously. “My hands and feet don't want to wait very long.”

“Well, you do some jumping jacks until I get back. That'll keep your hands and feet so busy, they won't know they're waiting.”

“Okay, Uncle Trent. I'll jump real high.”

“And I'll be back soon,” he promised.

Three hours later they were sitting on the kitchen floor putting the finishing touches on the nesting boxes, when Barbara heard the front doorbell. Looking in dismay at the door, she touched her mussed hair and looked down at her rumpled shirt. “Goodness, I'm not ready for company.”

“I'll get it for you,” said Trent, standing up and tucking in a loose shirttail.

Barbara continued working, absently listening as
Trent explained to the caller that the lady of the house was unavailable. She straightened up and listened when she heard a familiar voice say, “Isn't this the Logan cabin? Doug and Barbara Logan?” The voice was that of Benny Cotter, her brother-in-law!

Barbara scrambled to her feet and rushed to the door, intercepting Trent before he sent Pam and Benny on their way. Benny stood closest to the door, wearing his typical flashy suit and flashier tie. Pam stood a step behind, wearing an expensive mint-green suit, her thick ebony hair professionally styled. She looked as immaculate as ever.

“Pam! Benny!” Barbara exclaimed. “For goodness' sake! Come in! I never expected to see the two of you up here.”

“Thought we had the wrong house for a minute,” said Benny, eyeing Trent skeptically.

Trent smiled sheepishly and eased himself away from the door, giving Barbara a look that said,
Whoops, my mistake!

“Please, come in and sit down,” Barbara urged. Benny stepped inside and Pam followed, moving gingerly in her three-inch heels. “Pam and Benny, I'd like you to meet Trent Townsend. He lives next door.”

As they shook hands, Pam said, “The name sounds familiar. Have we met before, Mr. Townsend?”

“Could be. If you've been up to the cabin before.
My family has owned the place next door since I was a kid.”

Pam touched a long, polished nail to her shiny red lips. “That's it! You're Barbara's friend. The young man she was dating when she met my brother.”

“One and the same,” he replied dryly.

“What a coincidence. Imagine her running into you again now that she and Doug are separated.”

“We're not separated, Pam,” Barbara corrected. “We're living apart temporarily because of the earthquake.”

“Oh, that's what I meant, Barb. Not
separated!
You know I didn't mean to suggest you were having trouble in your marriage.”

Janee appeared from the kitchen and gazed shyly at Pam and Benny. Pam spotted her and scooped the child up in her arms. “Look, Benny. Here's our little sweetheart, looking pretty as a fairy princess. How are you, Janee?”

Janee lowered her gaze. “Me and Aunt Barbara and Uncle Trent are making nesting boxes for the little birdies. Do you wanna come see?”

“Uncle Trent?” echoed Benny with a note of skepticism.

“She calls everyone that,” said Barbara lamely. She could read the terrible misconceptions already forming in Benny's mind, and they made her cringe. Benny always had a way of putting the worst spin on things.

“We'll come see them after a while, honey,” said Pam, shifting Janee in her arms. It was obvious she didn't know how to carry a child. “Right now we've come to talk to your Aunt Barbara,” she said, her tone artificially sweet.

Trent went over and took Janee from Pam. “We'll go take the nesting boxes outside and find a place to put them, right, gal?”

Janee clapped her hands as they headed for the kitchen.

Barbara removed a newspaper and one of Janee's dolls from the sofa. “Sit down and relax. Can I get you something? A soft drink? Coffee? I could fix you a sandwich or something.”

“No, nothing for us,” replied Pam. “We ate on the way up the mountain.” When Janee and Trent were out of sight, Pam leaned forward and said confidentially, “We've come in answer to your call, Barb.”

Barbara stared at them in confusion. “My call?”

“Yes. You called us a couple of weeks ago about taking Janee off your hands. We didn't think we'd be able to do it, but I was laid off from my accounting job last week, so Benny and I had this talk, you know? And we decided that I'll stay home and take care of his bookkeeping. You know, for his used car dealership. I mean, I was helping him some before, but now I'll be able to do it full-time. At home. So don't you see? I'll have lots of time to take care of a child. Of Janee. In fact, Benny and I think it might
be kind of fun. Something we haven't done before. A whole new adventure. Aren't you pleased?”

Barbara was still two steps behind. “You—You came all the way from Oregon to pick up Janee?”

“Well, not just to pick up Janee,” Pam conceded. “Actually, Benny's here on a business trip.”

“I'm here to scout out the used car market,” Benny interjected. “You know what they say about L.A.—the used car capital of the world.”

“And so I decided to join him,” said Pam, her voice sounding like a kitten's purr. “Like I said, we came so we could get Janee. Only, of course, you weren't home—and, oh, Barbara, it's a terrible shame about your house. Doug called us when it happened, but we never dreamed…I mean, once we saw it, you know, we were just shocked. It's a crying shame!”

“A stroke of luck that you have this cabin,” said Benny. “Of course, it's a little rough around the edges, but—”

“We've actually enjoyed it,” said Barbara. “Janee and me both.”

“But it must be hard being away from Doug for days at a time.” A sly smile crept across Pam's lips. “Of course, I see you didn't waste any time renewing old acquaintanceships, if you know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Barbara said coolly. “And believe me, Pam, it was pure coinci
dence that Trent and I ran into each other. He's been a kind and helpful neighbor—and that's all.”

Pam raised a conciliatory hand. “Oh, Barbara, I believe you. Really, I was just speaking in jest. Trying for a little levity. But I'm not good at that like Benny. You must know I would never suggest that there was any impropriety going on between you and your old flame.” She stifled a smile. “No matter how gorgeous he is.”

Benny guffawed and reached over and squeezed Pam's knee. “You keep your eyes on your number one man, you hear?”

Barbara forced the indignation out of her voice. “Pam, Benny, you came here to talk about Janee. So let me have my say.”

“Certainly, Barbara. The floor is yours,” said Benny.

Barbara inhaled deeply. Why did she suddenly feel that she was facing a judge and jury? “First of all, let me thank you both for responding to my phone call. At the time I was feeling rather overwhelmed with my life, and I thought—I just thought maybe Janee would be better off with someone else…with the two of you.”

“And we've come to see that you're absolutely right,” said Pam, her smile brilliant as a neon sign.

“But that's just it,” Barbara protested. “I wasn't right. I was wrong. Since we came to the cabin, Janee has settled in very well. We're getting along wonderfully. We're very happy together.”

Pam crossed her long, tapered legs with a practiced grace. “But, Barbara, dear, what can you offer a child in a moldering old cabin like this, stuck in the backwoods on top of some mountain? Janee belongs in the city where she can have the best school, the finest clothes, the right friends.”

“She'll have all of that as soon as we get settled back into our home. Meanwhile, we're having a pleasant little vacation together in this rustic cabin—which isn't moldering in the least.”

Pam tapped her long fingernails on the tufted arm of the sofa. “Well, Barbara, I just wish you had phoned us and told us you'd changed your mind. You would have saved me a trip.”

“I didn't hear from you, Pam, so I just assumed you weren't interested.”

“I'll tell you what,” said Benny. “We bought a plane ticket for the kid, so we might as well take her back with us for a week. Give you a little break.”

Barbara stiffened. “You want to take Janee home with you? Now?”

“Just for a week,” said Pam smoothly. “After all, we haven't had a chance to get to know our little niece, have we? Surely you're not going to begrudge us a week with her.” Pam's tone took on a cutting edge. “I mean, a couple of weeks ago you were ready to pawn her off on us for good.”

Barbara's temper flared, but she clenched her
teeth and said evenly, “I wasn't trying to pawn her off on you. I was just—”