Dreamkeepers (40 page)

She looked at her watch and was surprised to see she had been walking for over an hour. She should be coming to the tracks any time now. The new snow was getting deep and it was harder to stay out of the drifts. She was tired and hoped it wouldn’t be much farther. She staggered and scrambled out of snowdrift after snowdrift. She had a stabbing pain in her side, but she dared not stop. The time for the train to pass was getting short.

Looking around her, she began to feel a little afraid. She tried to reason out where she was, to recall how far she had to go. A frightening thought came to her. When she had crawled out of one of the drifts, had she veered off in a slanting direction? Could she be lost? She was frightened now, so frightened that for a moment she thought she was going to be sick from the fear that cramped her stomach.

Wanting to look at her watch and yet afraid to, she hurried on. Coming to where a large tree was uprooted and turned on its side, she sat down on the big trunk to get her breath. She knew for sure, now, she was lost. She had been walking for more than two hours. There would not be more than an hour of daylight left. A pain of terror shot through her. She could very well die out here!

Should she try and follow her own tracks back to the house? The new snow had probably filled them by now. Common sense told her she had missed the train and should turn back. Even if she could find her way back . . . to go back in defeat, to have Donna sneer, and . . . him know she was a prisoner in her own home? Again pride warred with common sense, with all her father had taught her about survival in the wilderness. She wouldn’t go back! She got to her feet and pressed on, her eyes straining ahead to catch a glimpse of just anything but snow and trees. Thinking of nothing, she put one foot ahead of the other and trudged onward.

It was colder. The snow whipped about her and she thought of calling out. But she didn’t call out, the thought went out of her mind as another pushed its way in. Did it matter so much if she did die out here? Would anyone care? Really, who would care besides Jim and Evelyn? Tim-Two would miss her, but he would still stay on in his cabin. It wouldn’t change his life. She would never deliberately let it happen she thought, but if it did . . .

Coming to another large overturned tree, she sat down to rest, and let the large trunk shelter her from the wind. She was so tired. She was sure she had never been this tired before. She lifted up one mittened hand and let it fall. All her strength was gone. Her mind wandered to the good things; to her father and to Jim, who loved Evelyn and his boys. It was too late for her to find someone like Jim. She sat there for a long time and let the sweet numbness drift over her.

Did she hear her father calling? He always called her like that.

“Mol . . . ly.” He must be coming for her, but she would like to stay here and sleep. It was nice and warm here.

“Mol . . . ly!” He called again. She opened her eyes and saw him coming toward her. She tried to get up, but he was running and she didn’t have time to get to her feet.

“Dad! Oh, Dad!”

“Molly, darling! Oh, my love, are you all right?” He grabbed her roughly into his arms and pressed his warm cheek against her cold one. “Oh, Molly,” he groaned unsteadily. “Thank God, we found you!”

“Dad . . .” Her voice was barely audible.

Adam’s frantic, questioning eyes sought those of the Indian beside him.

“She thinks I’m her father!”

“Mind wanders, when lost,” the Indian replied.

“We’ve got to get her back to the snowmobile.” Adam swung her up in his arms and staggered through the snow.

It was completely dark, now, and Adam, carrying his precious load, followed the Indian. The terror that they would find her too late was replaced with a feeling of thankfulness and a promise . . .

In her semiconscious state Molly knew her father was taking her to a warm, safe place and she wanted to talk to him, she had to tell him . . . she had to tell someone!

“I can’t go back there. Donna is there . . . and she told me about . . . him.”

Adam caught his breath and shifted her in his arms so her lips were closer to his ear.

“You didn’t know him like you thought you did, Dad.” Her soft voice quavered and tears squeezed out from under the tightly closed lids. “He made bets with his friends about me! About going . . . going to bed with me . . . and I loved him and asked him . . . to . . .” Her lips trembled and her face contorted into a mask of utter despair.

“Oh, my God!” Adam’s eyes misted over and he dropped down on his knees in the snow and rocked her in his arms.

“Darling, darling, don’t cry!” Her face against his was cold and wet. He kissed her tears and tried to warm her cold face with his lips. He unzipped the neck of his suit and pressed her face against his neck and looked up at the Indian who had stopped and stood with his back to them.

He got clumsily to his feet with the girl in his arms. Sudden rage at what had been done to her filled and consumed him. He barely felt her weight as he plowed through the snowdrifts to the snowmobile.

The beam from the Indian’s light found the machine where they had left it on the high ground when his native instinct had told him she had turned off in the direction where they found her. The Indian got into the back of the machine and held out his arms for the girl. Adam wrapped her securely in a blanket and reluctantly handed her over to him.

The big light on the machine picked out a path through the timber. Adam’s temper cooled as the wind hit his face. What a blind, stupid fool he had been not to have seen the change that came over her immediately after her cousin arrived. He’d been so engrossed in discussing the work with Patrick that he hadn’t noticed anything was wrong until she announced she was going to bed just after dinner. Was it only last night? It seemed he had lived a lifetime in the few hours he and the Indian had been searching for her.

God, how he had hated to shoot that dog! He could understand now her unreasonable attitude and why she had lashed out at him with such hate and venom. He didn’t think he had ever had anything depress him as much as the sight of her kneeling there in the snow begging the dog not to die! At that moment he had made up his mind to get Patrick and Donna back to Anchorage as soon as he could so he could be alone with her again. He had gone to the study to prepare some work for Patrick to take back to the apartment. She was gone when they came out of the bedroom, but thinking she had gone to the cabin to talk to Tim-Two, he hadn’t been alarmed. Later, when the Indian came in and said he hadn’t seen her, the knot that tied itself up in his stomach at the thought of her being out there alone was still painful to him. Thank God for the Indian and his knowledge of the woods!

They came out of the timber and into the yard. He stopped the machine beside the porch and climbed out.

“Thank you, my friend, thank you,” he said as he lifted Molly from Tim-Two’s arms. The Indian got out and silently walked toward his cabin.

The door opened and the light from the house splayed out onto the porch. Adam carried Molly into the house and gently lowered her down on the couch.

“You found her.” Donna lazily got up from the chair, tossing her magazine aside. “I knew you would. She intended for you to find her.”

Adam straightened and his dark eyes found her face. She almost recoiled from the look he gave her.

“Get your things out of my wife’s room.” His voice was deadly quiet and his lips barely moved as he spoke.

Donna looked dumbfounded.

“Now!” he said. “Pack them up. You’re leaving in the morning and you’ll sleep in the other room tonight.”

“What has she said to you?” Donna stammered. “She’s lying if she said anything . . .”

The murderous look he turned on her shut off her words and she closed her mouth.

“When you’ve packed, go into the other room and close the door. I don’t want to see your face again tonight, or I won’t be responsible . . .”

A look of pure fright came into Donna’s face and she hurriedly left the room.

Adam looked toward the other person standing quietly by.

“If the weather clears, can you fly her out of here in the morning?”

“I sure can, old man. I’ll get her out of here if I have to take her out on her broomstick.”

“I’ll appreciate it. Would you mind taking the snowmobile to the shed?”

“Not at all.” Patrick plucked his coat from the peg on the wall.

Adam knelt and removed Molly’s wool cap. He smoothed back the hair from the tear-streaked face. His heart filled with such an overpowering protectiveness that he just sat looking at her for a moment before taking off her snow boots. He held her bare foot in his hand. It was warm to his touch, a good sign. He was thankful for the full-length zipper on her suit that allowed him to lift her out of it easily. She would have died out there if it hadn’t been for this warm suit. He wrapped her in the afghan from the back of the couch and covered her with the blanket from the snowmobile.

Patrick came in and stoked up the fire in the range. He put the coffeepot on and got out the makings for sandwiches. Adam sat beside Molly and Patrick grinned to himself. Donna was slamming things around in Molly’s room as she packed the expensive wardrobe she had brought to impress Adam. Hearing this, Patrick’s grin turned to soft laughter. He wouldn’t have missed hearing Adam tell her off for anything! He took a sandwich and a mug of coffee and put them on the table beside Adam.

Adam glanced up as if reluctant to take his eyes from Molly.

“Thanks. Do you think I should wake her? She hasn’t had a thing to eat all day.”

“I’d let her sleep until you can get her in her own bed.”

“I guess you’re right.” Adam picked up the coffee and sipped it slowly, his clouded black eyes still on his wife’s face.

“You’ve finally got it, haven’t you, old man?” Patrick put his hand on Adam’s shoulder. Adam didn’t answer and he said quite seriously, “I don’t blame you, old buddy. I only wish I’d seen her first.” Adam looked at him then. He grinned and went back to the kitchen.

Later, when Donna left Molly’s room, Adam went there. He turned up the light and went over the room, making sure every sign that her cousin had been there was removed. He remade the bed with clean sheet blankets and rearranged Molly’s few simple toilet articles on the dressing table. He took out the warm nightgown he had dressed her in once before and thought about how open and honest she was. How unaffected!
God, how lucky I am, or how lucky I was. Is it too late? Has the feeling she had for me been killed by my stupidity and her cousin’s vindictiveness? How many years lay ahead? Years without her! My life was only an empty shell; a man without love, without a meaningful life, until I met her.

Molly slept for hours. The emotional strain, the long hike in the deep snow, and the fact she had very little food in the last forty-eight hours had taken a toll of her strength. She was exhausted and slept on, unaware of the gaunt-faced man who kept vigil beside her bed.

When she awoke, she lay for a minute with her eyes closed. She was warm and she knew she was in her own bed. Finally she lifted her lids. Her eyes swung around to the man sitting in the chair beside the bed. He sat up and leaned forward when he became aware she was awake.

“Oh no, not . . . you!” she gasped, and turned her head away. Weak tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Her lips trembled helplessly.

Adam got down onto his knees beside the bed and tried to turn her face toward him.

“Don’t turn away from me, darling. I’ve waited all night for you to wake up.” His voice was pleading, but the shame and humiliation she had felt came surging back and she resisted the hand on her cheek. “Darling, she’s gone. Donna is gone. Patrick took her back in the plane this morning . . . please, look at me!”

A soft cloth wiped the tears from her eyes and she turned her head and looked into his face. She didn’t know what she expected to see, but what she did see was pleading eyes that were slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep and a gaunt, worried face with cheeks that were dark with a day’s growth of beard.

“Darling, she’s gone,” he repeated. “I wanted to tell you the moment you woke up that the things she told you were not true. Please believe me, love! You told me last night what she had said to you, why you took such a risk to get away from me.”

Molly’s tearful eyes focused on his face. He seemed so sincere, but she wouldn’t trust him a second time! He would break her heart again! She closed her eyes tightly to shut out the picture of his face so close to hers. She felt him draw her close and she was too weak to resist. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and his whispered words went on.

“Let me talk to you, Molly. Don’t shut me out.” His voice was emotional, not at all like his usual voice. “Once, years ago, when I was young and thought of myself as something special, I made bets with some of the other fellows at the club. But not for years, and certainly not about you! I’ve never mentioned you to anyone at the club. I’ll swear to it! You can’t believe I would do something like that, Molly. Look at me and tell me!”

He shook her gently and she opened her eyes. She wanted to believe him. Oh, how she wanted to believe him! Her eyes filled again and her mouth trembled as the doubts came back to her mind.

“You told her about the . . . will. Asked her to . . . wait for you.”

“Sweetheart.” He kissed the tear wet eyes. “I never told her anything. Her mother was entitled to read the will and probably did. I expected that. I haven’t talked to your cousin but one time since I knew about Charlie’s will.”

“She . . . she was in your apartment.” Molly persisted.

“Our apartment,” he corrected gently. “Yes, the last time I went to Anchorage she saw me at the airport and she knew I was at the apartment. She came up and inquired about you. She didn’t stay five minutes. I went up to see Dad and she asked to freshen up before she left because she had an important date. Ganson was with us the whole time, love.”

Molly’s mind was still troubled. He had explained everything so beautifully, yet he hadn’t said the words she so much wanted to hear. He read the doubt still in her eyes and put his arms under and around her and hugged her desperately to him.