A Turn in the Road (9 page)

She wasn't sure how long they drove; she didn't look at the dashboard clock or her watch. The scenery was engaging and kept her
attention. Thankfully, the rental car was air-conditioned because the Nevada heat was brutal, even in the mountains.

“Okay, Mom, slow down,” Annie eventually said, studying the map. “The turnoff for Snow Water Lake should be coming up soon.”

Bethanne would have missed the arrow if Ruth hadn't pointed it out. “How far is the lake from the road?” she asked Annie, turning off the highway onto the narrow paved road.

“It's hard to tell on the map, but it can't be more than a few miles. Five at the most.”

That seemed reasonable, although she had to wonder if they were heading toward a designated picnic area or invading personal property. Well, they'd find out soon enough.

Minutes later, they reached the lake. There wasn't a picnic table—or a picnicker—in sight. They saw the remains of a campfire someone had made some time ago, but no other evidence of anyone's presence. Using the hood of the car as a table, Ruth spread out their feast and they stood in the shade and ate their sandwiches and chips. Lingering over sodas, Annie and Bethanne walked along the lakeshore.

Annie removed her shoes and waded in the water. “Wow, this is cold.”

“It isn't called Snow Water Lake for nothing,” Bethanne teased.

“Come on in, Mom,” Annie said, and kicked her feet at the water's edge, splashing onto the shore.

Although they'd been out of the car for less than thirty minutes, Bethanne roasted in the early-afternoon heat. Sitting on the sand at the lake's edge, she slipped off her shoes and waded ankle-deep into the chilly water. After the initial shock she quickly grew accustomed to the cold.

She got up and, with her arm around Annie's waist, ambled through the water.

“I should probably call Dad,” Annie said. “He'll want to know we've changed our plans.”

Bethanne didn't comment.

“Dad talked to you about Andrew's wedding, didn't he?” Annie asked. “We can sit together as a family, can't we?”

Bethanne hadn't given Grant her final answer. “I suppose.”

“Good.” Annie rested her head on Bethanne's shoulder. “I want us to be a family again.”

“I know you do, honey,” Bethanne said in a soothing voice. “Annie, you have your
own
life now. Your own place, a promising future… And your dad and I both love you.”

“Yeah. But nothing's been the same since Dad moved out.”

Moved out, divorced her, remarried and gone through a second divorce, Bethanne added to herself. The man who'd walked out the door wasn't the same person anymore, nor was she. A lot had changed, and Bethanne wasn't sure either of them could return to the past. Perhaps that was a good thing; she didn't know.

“Dad's different,” Annie continued, almost as if she'd been reading Bethanne's thoughts.

“We both are.”

“Dad's learned his lesson. He's humbled. You know that can't be easy for him.”

What Annie said was true. With Grant's pride, it had taken a great deal for him to admit he'd made a mistake and seek a reconciliation.

“You don't mind if I call him, do you?”

“Not at all.”

Annie reached for her cell and punched a couple of buttons. After a moment, she muttered in frustration. “We don't have coverage here.”

“It can wait. In fact, if you call him now he'll only worry. Why don't we call once we're in Vegas?”

“Okay.”

By the time they returned to the car, Ruth had cleaned up their leftovers and they were ready to go back to the highway.

“I'll drive,” Annie said.

Bethanne was happy to relinquish the wheel. If she was going
to finish the wedding gloves, she'd need time to knit. She'd made progress their first day on the road, but none today. She was counting on the trip to afford her knitting time she didn't generally have.

Ruth climbed into the back, while Bethanne sat in the passenger seat next to her daughter. Annie inserted the key and the engine turned over once and then quit.

Frowning, Annie looked at Bethanne. “What's wrong?”

Bethanne's heart slowed as she remembered what had happened at the gas station in Wells. “Try again.”

Annie did, and the engine caught right away. Bethanne relaxed, giving her daughter a reassuring smile. The last thing they needed now was to get stuck in the middle of nowhere with a broken-down vehicle and no cell coverage.

The car lurched forward and died again.

“Is there a problem?” Ruth asked anxiously from the backseat.

“I'm not sure,” Bethanne said.

Annie tried again. Nothing. When it became apparent that no amount of cranking was going to start the engine, Bethanne placed her hand over her daughter's.

“Now what?” Annie asked.

Bethanne's head was spinning. They didn't have a lot of options. “How far are we from the main road? Isn't it about five miles?”

“Yup. Farther than I'd want to walk,” Annie said, “especially in this heat.”

“I agree. It's too far to walk in this heat,” Ruth said emphatically.

“Then we're stuck until someone comes along.” Annie dropped her hands from the steering wheel. “Does anyone know anything about fixing cars?”

Bethanne shook her head.

“Not me,” Ruth said. “I left all that to Richard. After he died I had to learn how to fill my own gas tank. But that's about all I can do.”

“We could be here for days,” Annie moaned.

“Why don't we wait until it cools down and then walk to the highway.”

“This is all my fault,” Ruth wailed. “I was so eager for adventure that I put us in danger.”

“
I
was the one who suggested we eat lunch by the lake,” Annie said.

“Stop,” Bethanne told them both. “This isn't anyone's fault. We'll be fine. There's nothing to worry about. Besides, there are worse things than being stuck by a beautiful lake on a summer afternoon.”

“Right,” Annie said, instantly perking up. “Let's go swimming. We have our swimsuits, don't we?”

“Uh, I didn't bring one,” Ruth confessed. “I didn't want anyone to see my fat thighs.”

“Ruth,” Bethanne said, rolling her eyes. She was on her way to Florida and some of the most beautiful beaches in the world—and she was worried about showing her thighs. “Who'll even notice?”

“What about you, Mom?” Annie asked.

Bethanne's smile faded. “I don't own a suit.”

“You've got to be kidding me,” Annie said, staring up at the car ceiling. “Okay, you two, I don't care if you have your bathing suits or not, we're going swimming.”

“You can,” Ruth said, “but I'm staying out of the water.”

“Suit yourself, Grandma, but Mom and I are getting in the water.”

Bethanne hesitated. “You go on and I'll join you later.”

“Mo-om,” Annie groaned. “Okay, if it'll make you both feel better, I'll swim in my underwear.”

Annie shucked off her shorts and cotton top, leaving them at the water's edge, and walked into the lake with her arms raised. “Oh, boy, this is cold.”

Bethanne kept a keen eye on her daughter. The cool water lapped at her bare toes, and she felt the sweat roll down her neck.
The sun was even fiercer now. Annie, meanwhile, was floating on her back.

“Are you coming in or not?” she shouted to Bethanne.

“Coming in.” Bethanne carefully removed her own clothes and waded into the water in her bra and underpants. The lake seemed even colder than before and shock made her gasp.

Ruth strolled down to the shore, watching them more intently than a lifeguard at the baby pool.

“Come on, Ruth,” Bethanne said. “You wanted adventure. Well, this is it!”

Her mother-in-law paced the shoreline. “I've never done any thing like this in my life.”

“Don't be shy,” Annie said. “We could be here for hours. We might as well enjoy ourselves.”

Ruth cast them an anxious look. “You won't tell anyone, will you?”

“Cross my heart,” Annie said, standing up to make the motions.

“Come on,” Bethanne encouraged her again, waving her in. “The water's fabulous.”

Ruth took off her clothes and folded them in a neat pile. Then she walked straight into the water. Unlike Annie and Bethanne, who took time to adjust to the cold, Ruth plunged ahead. Maybe she feared one of them would comment on her thighs, Bethanne thought with amusement.

The three frolicked and played like schoolchildren splashing one another and diving under the water. Bethanne couldn't remember the last time she'd swum in a lake. She was enjoying herself so much, she didn't immediately hear the noise that attracted Ruth and Annie's attention.

Both of them got to their feet and stood there, unmoving.

Bethanne turned around and was instantly overwhelmed by the sound of motorcycles moving toward them.

“Mom,” Annie said, grabbing Bethanne's arm. “I remember where I heard about this lake,” she cried. “It was from the bikers at the restaurant.”

T
he motorcycles roared right to the edge of the lake, and lined up side by side.

Shivering in the water Bethanne huddled close to Ruth and Annie. No one seemed to know exactly what to do or how to react. The water suddenly went from comfortable to below freezing. All three of them crossed their arms, although Bethanne realized their efforts to hide themselves were futile.

“Didn't Robin say something like this would happen?” Ruth wailed. “We're goners for sure.”

“Over my dead body,” Bethanne said from between clenched teeth.

“That's what I'm afraid of,” Ruth muttered. “How will I ever explain this to Grant? This is all my fault.”

“It's no one's fault,” Bethanne said. She wasn't about to let these men intimidate her
or
her family. Squaring her shoulders, she began marching toward the shore, her legs making rippling, splashing movements in the water.

Annie tried to grab her arm. “Mom, what are you doing?”

“I'm going to ask them for help,” she said. If she treated them with respect, then they'd do the same. She hoped.

“Mom!” came Annie's plaintive cry as Bethanne pulled her arm free.

With her back straight, Bethanne ignored Annie and Ruth's pleas and the teasing catcalls from the bikers. She was all too aware that her wet underwear concealed nothing. Scooping up her capris, she tried to pull them on, slipping one leg in. Because she was wet, the fabric stuck and she lost her balance. She would've tumbled to the ground if not for one of the bikers who reached out and caught her.

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly.

The biker removed his helmet.

Bethanne blinked twice. It was the same man she'd served in the café less than twenty-four hours earlier. The one who'd stayed in her mind, the biker named Max. Their eyes met again, his dark gaze unreadable.

Rooster removed his helmet next; so did the other two bikers, Willie and Skunk, if she remembered correctly.

By then Bethanne was fully dressed, although her clothing clung to her, soaked as it was from her underwear.

Annie stepped out of the water and quickly dressed, too. That left Ruth, who stubbornly remained in the water. She squatted down so only her head was above the waterline and refused to budge.

“Grandma, it's all right,” Annie told her. “You can come out. We know these guys.”

“I'll stay where I am until those…those men turn around and stop gawking at me.”

Rooster threw back his head and howled. “I don't think you've got anything I haven't seen before, Grandma.”

“Turn around,” Ruth barked. “All of you. I don't need any Peeping Toms staring at me.”

To Bethanne's amazement, all four bikers did as Ruth demanded.

“We'd appreciate your help. Our car won't start,” Bethanne said, as much to distract the four men as to secure their assistance.

“We didn't flood the engine, either,” Annie added.

“I had a problem starting it earlier.” Bethanne led them to the rental vehicle. “This is a relatively new car, so I'm surprised we're having trouble,” she said.

“I don't know that much about cars,” the guy she remembered as Willie said with a shrug. “I can fix a motorcycle with a bobby pin but cars baffle me.”

“Same here,” Skunk chimed in.

Rooster and Max exchanged glances. “I'll take a look at it for you,” Rooster offered.

Bethanne didn't immediately find the hood release. “Like I said, this is a rental car…or I'd be more familiar with it.” As soon as she managed to release the hood, both Rooster and Max bent over the engine.

It didn't take long to detect the problem, which according to them was something to do with the carburetor. “You're gonna need a tow truck,” Rooster said. “With a bike any of us could lend a hand, but these engines aren't what they used to be.”

“We don't have cell coverage out here,” Annie told him. “We'd have phoned for help earlier if it was that easy.”

“Do any of you ride?” Willie asked.

“No…afraid not,” Bethanne said, answering for all three.

“Then one of us will need to take you into Wells.”

“Hold on just a minute here,” Ruth said, wagging her index finger at them. She'd dressed, putting her blouse on inside out, although Bethanne wasn't about to tell her that.

“Before we do any such thing, the three of us need to talk.” Ruth steered Bethanne and Annie away from the bikers. They stood several feet away, forming a tight circle. Ruth glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “I don't like the idea of one of us leaving with a biker.”

“But, Grandma, what else are we going to do?” Annie asked.

“Do you honestly think we can trust these men?” Ruth pinched her mouth into a thin line and frowned. “They're…riffraff.”

In normal circumstances Bethanne wouldn't have considered riding with any of them, but at the moment their options were few. “Do we have a choice?” she asked.

“We could always stay right here and stick to our original plan,” Annie suggested. “Only…”

“Only
what?
” Ruth whispered.

“Well, I heard them talking at the café yesterday…and I'm afraid this might be a biker hangout. At least we've met these guys before, and even though they might
look
a bit intimidating, they seem decent enough.”

Ruth shook her head. “I still don't like it.”

“I'll go,” Bethanne said.

“No, you won't,” Ruth insisted. “If anyone goes, it'll be me.”

“You'll have to ride on the back of a motorcycle,” Bethanne reminded her.

Ruth paled. “I…I can do it.”

“Mom, it makes far more sense for me to go,” Annie said, as if it meant nothing.

“No.” Bethanne refused to even discuss it. She wasn't about to put her daughter in any additional danger.

Cutting off further argument, Bethanne broke away from the others and approached the bikers. They stood with their arms crossed, waiting. “Okay,” she said, walking toward them, hands held out. “If one of you would take me into Wells, we'd deeply appreciate it.”

“That's real big of you.” Willie's voice was sharp with sarcasm.

“I'll take her.” This came from Max.

His offer appeared to surprise Rooster, who shrugged and stepped back. “Your call.”

Max started toward his Harley and Bethanne followed. “You ever ridden in the—” he hesitated “—buddy seat?”

Willie and the other two bikers broke into hoots of laughter.

Bethanne turned back, not understanding what they considered so humorous.

Max silenced them with a single look. He was an intense man who rarely spoke, she'd noticed, and never seemed to smile. He wasn't especially big. About six feet, with broad shoulders. He seemed to be her age, possibly older.

Rooster handed Bethanne his helmet.

“Mom, are you sure about this?” Annie asked anxiously.

Bethanne nodded, although she wasn't sure of anything. She set the helmet on her head and draped her purse crossways over one shoulder. Max climbed onto the bike. Apparently, it was up to her to find her own way onto the Harley. She managed, but it wasn't pretty.

“Oh, Bethanne,” Ruth cried, covering her mouth with her hand. “Be careful.”

“I will,” she promised. She didn't like this any better than Annie and Ruth did, but someone had to ride into town and she was the logical choice.

The only instruction Max gave her was to hold on. It wasn't like there was an extra pair of handlebars for her to grab. Her one option was Max and, not knowing what else to do, she slipped her arms around his middle—and clung for dear life.

The first turn nearly unseated her. She cried out in alarm, but if Max heard, he gave no indication. Even with the helmet, the noise was deafening; the roar sounded as if she were next to a jet engine. It seemed to take forever to reach the town of Wells. By then she was so tense and stiff she found it difficult to breathe. Thankfully, Max knew where he was going. He pulled into a garage and turned off the engine, then braced his feet on the pavement and set the kickstand in place.

Bethanne didn't dare move. She pried her fingers loose, one by one. It occurred to her that her stranglehold might have been uncomfortable for him.

Max took off his helmet and climbed down; she did, too, with a lot less grace. “Were you able to breathe?” she asked.

The merest hint of a smile touched his mouth. “Barely. I think I might have a couple of cracked ribs.”

Bethanne didn't know if this was a joke or if he was serious. “Sorry.”

He entered the garage and she trailed after him. The mechanic brightened the instant he saw Max, came forward and thrust out his hand. “Max! Good to see you again. I got that widow's car running and—”

“Hey, Marv, I need a favor,” Max said, cutting him off.

“You got it,” the other man said without hesitation. “I owe you. I didn't need even half the money you gave me to fix that old Ford.”

“You don't owe me a thing.”

The mechanic obviously knew and trusted Max. That was a good sign as far as Bethanne was concerned.

He nodded at Bethanne. “Name's Marvin Green.”

“Bethanne,” she said. “Bethanne Hamlin.”

“Can you send a tow truck out to Snow Water Lake?” Max asked his friend.

“Sure.” Marvin went into a small windowed office and picked up a phone. Max and Bethanne waited outside.

“Is there a rental car place in town?” Bethanne asked, since they'd need to exchange vehicles.

“I only ride,” he said, which she guessed was his shortcut way of telling her he didn't know.

“You don't talk much, do you?”

“No.”

“Any particular reason?”

He shrugged. “I generally don't have a lot to say.”

Bethanne didn't believe him but didn't respond, either.

Max walked over to the soda machine, inserted a couple of dollar bills and bought two sodas, bringing her one.

“Thanks,” she said, accepting it gratefully. Her throat was parched. They wandered over to a row of plastic chairs and sat quietly, side by side, while Marvin made phone calls.

After several minutes of discomfort, Bethanne found herself breaking the silence. “I thought about you last night.” The confession popped out before she could censure it. She had no idea what had prompted the comment and instantly regretted it.

His gaze shot to hers. She could tell she'd surprised him.

Instead of dropping it the way she should have, she made matters worse. “Actually, I said a prayer for you…. I didn't used to pray,” she added awkwardly, feeling she needed to explain herself. “Not until recently.” The words just kept coming. Normally Bethanne would never have blurted out something this personal. She hardly ever talked about politics or religion and never with someone who was basically a stranger.

He stared at her as if he didn't know how to take her ad mission.

She'd started down this road, so she might as well continue. “I always believed in God. I went to church and all that, but, well…after my husband left me, I backed off for a while. I feel differently now….”

“You're divorced?”

She nodded. “Six years now. Annie's my daughter and Ruth's my—mother-in-law.”

“Ex-mother-in-law.”

“Technically, you're right. But I don't think of her in those terms. Grant divorced me, but I chose to keep Ruth.”

“Your husband's an idiot,” Max said.

“
Ex
-husband,” she corrected, and to her astonishment, Max laughed.

Marvin glanced their way and lifted his chin. Max stood, joining the mechanic in his office. The two men spoke for a while; she finished her soda before Max returned.

“Marvin found a tow truck willing to drive out to the lake.”

That was a relief. “Would it be okay if I rode back with the driver rather than on the Harley? No slight intended, but I think we'd both be more comfortable.”

“That's fine.”

Once again they sat in silence. Finally, Max leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “Why did you feel you needed to say a prayer for me?” he asked.

Bethanne wasn't sure what to tell him. She couldn't very well admit he'd remained in her thoughts—and that she didn't understand why. “I…asked God to keep you and your friends safe on the road. Of course, at the time, I didn't know I was going to be riding, uh, buddy with you in the very near future.” She tried to make light of it and realized she was saying far more than necessary. Maybe it was because
he
didn't speak much that she felt this compulsion to fill the void with chatter.

“Why?” he asked again after she'd stopped talking.

Bethanne closed her eyes and settled back against the hard chair. “I don't exactly know.” She wasn't being completely honest. At the café she'd been aware that he was watching her as she moved about, waiting tables, delivering meals, doing her best to keep up with customers' demands. A couple of times their eyes had met. She'd smiled, but he hadn't. His lack of response hadn't intimidated her; instead, she saw something in him…something she recognized in herself. Pain. She sensed that he'd suffered the same kind of wrenching emotional pain she had. Ultimately that was what had prompted her to pray for him.

“Would you mind if I asked you a question?” She looked up at him.

“That depends. You can ask, but I might not answer.”

“Fair enough.”

Max walked over to the vending machine as if he needed to put distance between them.

Bethanne stood and followed him. “Did your wife leave you?” she asked in a low voice.

He turned and faced her and seemed to be studying her intently. Bethanne held his gaze.

“No,” he said after a lengthy moment.