Far Country (60 page)

           
Gracie had been so proud to be a part of the ceremony.  She had walked
carefully out to the point, Fiona a silent and dignified red shadow by her
side, tossing the fragrant magnolia blossoms along the path. She stopped and
turned on the dime that Steve had set for her in the sand to face the crowd
that stood in a haphazard semi circle around the promontory.  The
bridesmaids and groomsmen had followed her, while Miss Ellie, the elderly
church organist from Pastor Graham’s church who had proven herself to be spryer
at climbing up the steep segment of the trail than anyone would have guessed,
played hymns quietly on the portable keyboard.

           
Once everyone was in their places, Miss Ellie struck up the wedding march, and
the bride and groom, flanked by their parents, had marched out onto the promontory. 
Robert Graham had then shaken Pete’s hand, kissed his daughter on the forehead,
and then slipped a minister’s stole around his shoulders to symbolize his role
as both parent and pastor.

           
The ceremony itself had been relatively short. Pastor Graham admonished them on
the sanctity of marriage, on their responsibilities to God and to each other,
and finally, to any children that should follow.  After completing the
Communion service, they repeated the formal vows, and Pastor Graham pronounced
them man and wife.  Everyone cheered and clapped, and the photographer
hurried forward to snap a few pictures before the incredible sunset faded from
the sky.

           
A minute later, Miss Ellie struck up the recessional March, and the wedding party
walked back to form a ragged line near the trailhead so that they could greet
and thank their guests.  Pastor Graham and Hester walked behind the
newlyweds, Steve held out his arm for Terri, who smiled up at him shyly, and
Jill grabbed Chuck’s arm possessively, taking no chances with Terri.  Mr.
Bergan
good naturedly walked with Gracie and Fiona,
bringing up the rear.

           
Steve helped Terri over some uneven ground, until at last they were clear of
the ledges.  He scanned the crowd that was converging on the little
wedding party, eager to find Kelly in the press.

           
Suddenly Gracie cried out “Fiona! Fiona, come back here! Come back now!”

           
Steve grinned.  Apparently, Fiona had reached the limit of her ability to
behave.  Steve caught a glimpse of a reddish brown body streaking along
the tree line in the direction of the picnic rock. Steve grabbed Gracie’s hand
before she could race off after her dog. “It’s all right, Gracie,” he soothed
her. You go get in the reception line. I’ll go catch her and bring her back to
you.”

           
Gracie stared off after her dog in aggravation and stamped her little
foot.  “And she was being so good!” She complained to her father.

           
“She was good!” Steve agreed. “At least she hung in there for the ceremony. Now
go get in line and wait for me, okay?”

           
Steve caught up with the errant dog on less than five minutes.  He turned
back to the trailhead and realized that he was now bringing up the rear of the
crowd of well wishers, who did not seem to be in any hurry to scramble back
down the steep pathway.  He scanned the crowd for Kelly, but she was still
caught somewhere in the guests in front of him.  He spotted Gracie
standing in line with the adults, shaking hands and smiling as radiantly as if
it were her own wedding day, and Steve felt his first pang as a father, for how
fleeting time was! 
How grownup she looks, and how much she has changed
in just the short time I have known her!
He thought.

           
Ah, there was Kelly! He’d been looking too far back. She was actually among the
first to go through the reception line. From his vantage point on the far side
of the top of the promontory, he stood for a moment and admired the scene,
wondering what sort of wedding Kelly would want to have. Steve didn’t really
care. He was just looking forward to beginning a new life with her and Gracie.
His only hope was that it would be very soon! He watched as Kelly hugged Deb
and Pete, and moved past the reception line.  Then Steve frowned. There
was – someone – near the trees, watching her. The dark hair and heavily muscled
arms were evident even under the suit coat he was wearing.  An
unreasonable dread seized his heart.

           
 “Kelly!” He shouted.

           
 But Kelly didn’t hear him over Miss Ellie’s postlude music that swelled
into the advancing twilight. He tried to push through the throng of well
wishers, but the ground was so rough and uneven, the safe paths were heavily
blocked. The guests glared at him in annoyance unable to move even if they’d
wanted to.

           
Frustrated and apprehensive, Steve backtracked with Fiona.  He clambered
up onto a ledge behind the main press of people, and then leapt across a deep
gap in the rock, thankful for the black boot’s rubber soles. At the rocky gap
Fiona panicked and refused to jump across after him.  Steve felt her pull
back on the leash, struggling against his impatient tug until she managed to
squirm out of her collar.  Steve was left holding the empty leash. He
called to her but she whined and danced nervously on the far edge, refusing to
follow.

           
“Fine,” Steve said distractedly.  He dropped her leash and hurried around
the edge of the crowd, trusting that Fiona would backtrack and find Gracie.

           
Steve raced up another higher ledge and searched the departing crowd
frantically.  Pete and Deb still stood in the line, shaking hands and
chatting with the last of their guests, oblivious of the stranger who had been
hovering on the edge of the crowd.  Miss Ellie continued serenading the
guests, now playing ‘An ode to Joy’.  Kelly was gone.

           
At last he caught sight of her.  She had wandered to the edge of the tree
line, apparently waiting for Steve to return with Fiona. “No!” he whispered to
himself. “Not there!”  He scanned the trees behind her for the dark figure
he had spotted before. He could have been wrong, he told himself.  It
might easily have been just another guest that he did not recognize…but as he
watched, David Bolton stepped out of the trees. The last notes of ‘Ode to Joy’
echoed around Hanging Rock and faded into silence. Steve saw the fading
sunlight glint on metal. David had a gun in his hand.

           
“Kelly! Behind you!”

           
Kelly caught the sound of Steve’s voice and turned just as a very muscular arm
slipped around her waist. She gasped and looked up into David’s hard gray eyes.
In a quick movement he pulled her under the protective shield of the trees. She
felt the gun pressed against her ribs. “Stay quiet,” he ordered.

           
“
Wh
- what are you doing?”  She stuttered,
struggling to move out of the circle of his arm. It was of no use. She might as
well be pushing against Hanging Rock.

           
“Getting rid of the interfering boyfriend – both of them, in fact. 
They’ve humiliated me long enough!” He hissed tersely. Gripping her arm tightly
he pulled  her along beside him as he moved through the trees.

           
 “What 'boyfriends' are you talking about, David?" She asked in
confusion.  She protested in a choked voice, planting her feet and
refusing to go deeper into the trees. "I've done nothing to you, why are
you doing this?"  She glanced desperately over her shoulder. “
Didn’t
anybody see what had just happened?”
But no one had followed them, and the
swelling melody of “
Sunrise, Sunset”
seemed to have muted her cry of
fear and surprise when David had pulled her into the trees. No one had even
looked her way.

           
David’s lip curled in a derisive sneer at her attempts to resist him. He jerked
her arm so hard, Kelly thought it would pop out her the shoulder socket. She
practically flew across the dirt and stumbled into his chest with a gasp of
pain.

           
“You're here with Steve, aren't you?" He growled in disgust. "But I'm
done with letting him get in my way. Trying to take Gracie is the last
straw."  He pushed her along in front of him with the muzzle of the
gun, his hand still gripping her upper arm.

           
“Where did he go?” David seethed
irritatedly
. “He
should be dead already - both of them should - except he’s inconveniently
disappeared.”

           
“What do you mean by ‘both’?” Kelly asked again, bewildered.

           
“Steve,” he spat the name. “Your Steve and that Peter
Bergan
!”
He said, as if she should fully understand his reasons without the need of an
explanation.  “Both of them! Always interfering! Steve is always trying to
move in on my girls, and that Pete
Bergan
is no
better! Always getting in between me and Steve, even when it was none of his
business! But now – now he thinks he can have Deborah!” He snarled in disgust.
He grabbed her wrist and dragged her deeper into the trees, trying to maneuver
to a better vantage point.

           
“Where is he?” He muttered to himself, straining to spot Steve among the crowd
of guests.

           
“David,” Kelly argued nervously, trying to distract him from his search. 
“I am not one of your girls. Steve didn’t take me away from you at the
Christmas party!”

           
David’s eyes darkened in anger. “Yeah, that Christmas party!” He growled, no
longer hearing anything else she said. “Who did he think he was, calling the
police on me in my own parent’s house!  If I hadn’t been buddies with that
MP that showed up, they’d have thrown me in the brig!”

           
He spat into the dirt in contempt.  “Calling the MP’s just because I
punched that pansy!” He shook his head. “I can’t believe she married the wimp.”
He grimaced at the idea, but then his eyes gleamed again in anticipation. “But
that’s okay. He said ‘for better or for worse’, and he’s
gonna
be surprised at how quick things can get worse!”

           
All the while that he was railing against Steve and Pete, David continued to
move through the trees, searching for his missing victim. Kelly’s heart filled with
dread. Most of the guests had left now, and the jumble of people in front of
David’s hiding place had thinned out to one small group. Soon, David would spot
Steve, and she wouldn’t be able to warn him before David took his shot!

           
Kelly had seen Steve take off after Fiona, but where was he now?  The only
practical way off Hanging Rock was right in front of where David waited with a
gun! And Steve knew that she was waiting for him. He would have to come this
way looking for her! She began to panic, her breath coming in gasps. She
stumbled, almost twisting her ankle and cried out in pain. David jerked her
back to her feet. “A lot of people will get hurt if you start getting noisy on
me!” He warned her.

           
She stumbled again and David jerked her around and smacked her across the face.
“I can kill you, too,” he told her in a conversational tone as she nursed her
stinging cheek.  “Doesn’t matter to me. You’re just fish bait. Sooner or
later he’ll want to know where you are, and it won’t matter if you’re alive or
dead, as long as he comes looking for you.”

           
The cold indifference of his voice chilled her. She whimpered involuntarily,
and David smiled at the sound. “That’s better,” he crooned, pulling her tight
against his body. “A little fear just sets the mood!” He whispered in her ear,
letting his left hand slide under her silk blouse. Kelly felt sick.

           
“Crowd's about gone,” he commented in exasperated voice, once again scanning
the promontory for Steve, but still not spotting his victim. “He’s proving
exceptionally hard to kill.” He muttered under his breath in frustration. 

           
Finally he seemed to make up his mind. “There’s
Bergan
,
at least,” he muttered to himself again. “I’ll take care of him now, and look for
Steven later.” He shifted Kelly to one side and raised his right arm to aim at
Pete, who stood beside Deborah, the joy of the last hour still bright on his
face.

           
Please God, don’t let him do this! Don’t let him destroy their lives like
this!”
Kelly prayed desperately, the tears flowing unchecked down her face.

           
A twig snapped behind them and Kelly gasped in terror.
Steve!

           
David twisted to face the sound, his
gun still a perfect extension of his arm, ready to kill. But it wasn’t Steve.

           
“Mr. Bolton!” Kelly gasped hopefully, thankful for the tall man’s calming
presence.  Surely now, standing before his father, David would realize how
insane he was behaving and this would all be over! Mr. Bolton had the same gray
eyes as David, but they were not cold and empty like his son’s. 

           
Instead, Richard Bolton looked at his son with compassion. His voice was sad,
but firm and clear.  “Give me the gun, David.  Let Kelly go,” he
commanded.

           
David stared at his father impassively for a moment.  “I don’t think so,”
he replied at last.  “Go back, Dad.  Pretend that you didn’t see.”

           
“Not this time,” Richard replied heavily.  “I forbid you to hurt him ever
again. He’s Gracie’s father.”