Читать книгу The Replacement - Anne Duquette Marie - Страница 9

Yosemite, Rangers’ winter cabin

Same day, late afternoon

“WHERE IS SHE?” Eric asked impatiently, his breath making more fog on the frosted, double-paned window. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

“She checked in by radio right on time. Stop worrying. She probably hasn’t skied in a while,” Naomi said calmly. “Better to be cautious and a little late than risk injury like—” Naomi broke off and continued setting the table in the large common room.

Like Eva. She’s gone. If Lindsey were gone forever… That thought chilled him to the bone. He couldn’t finish it, even to himself. Eric strode away from the window and back to the kitchen area. He picked up the spoon and stirred the stew he’d fixed for their dinner. He suddenly wondered if Lindsey still liked stew. Her mother and sisters were vegetarian, but in primitive conditions such as these, it wasn’t practical to cook separate meals for everyone. Cooking duties were shared, as was rummaging in the huge cabin pantry among cases of canned goods, dried meats and a freezer full of frozen vegetables and butcher cuts purchased in advance and stockpiled to last four people six months.

Lindsey usually ate what was on the table. Still… Maybe she’d become vegetarian, after all. Quickly he tossed some flour and other ingredients into the breadmaker. Lindsey loved hot, freshly made bread—and it would go well with their meal, Eric told himself.

Keith emerged from the small bedroom he shared with Eric. They were built deliberately small, with low roofs to make them easier to heat. “If we’re waiting dinner on the replacement, I hope she gets here soon,” Keith said with an appreciative sniff. He moved over to the fire, tending it and then stroking the dejected Ginger lying beside it, her tail tucked around her body. “I’m hungry.”

“I’ll never understand men,” Naomi said harshly. “You lost Eva, and now you’re waiting for her replacement—how can you eat?”

“That’s enough,” Eric said quietly to his sister. “What would you have us do? Stop eating like Eva’s dog?”

“You did when Lindsey left four years ago,” Naomi responded.

“If so, I didn’t urge others to imitate my example.”

Eric saw his sister flush guiltily, and immediately felt guilty himself. Ever since Eva’s death, they’d all been on edge. And now the proverbial “blast from the past” in the form of Lindsey Nelson, former lover and fiancée, was about to arrive.

“I’m sorry, Eric. My apologies, Keith. I’ve been a nervous wreck since Eva—and I’m worried about Lindsey,” Naomi said contritely. “I just wish she’d get here, that’s all.”

“We all do,” Eric added kindly. “Go ahead and radio her again, if you like.”

“I—no, that’ll only slow her down more.”

“Tell you what. I’ll go walk the dog and take a looksee,” Keith offered. “I’ll check the generator on my way back.”

The schedule of cabin chores was strictly adhered to. Wood must be brought in from the woodpile, supplies inventoried, snow cleared from the roof, the generator checked and refueled. As far as meals went, this week Eric was cooking, Naomi setting the table, and Keith cleared the dishes and washed up.

“I’d appreciate that,” Naomi said before Eric could reply. “Thanks, Keith.”

Keith nodded. “I won’t be long…ten minutes. Fifteen at most.”

All three checked their wristwatches from long habit. You planned your travel, you traveled your plan, and you always registered an itinerary with your partners. Even Eva had followed that rule. Keith hooked Ginger to the leash and after tugging and coaxing finally forced the reluctant dog to her feet and outside.

The rush of cold air coming in from the double-doored porch sent shivers down Eric’s spine as he peered out the closest window from his spot in the kitchen. His sister noticed. She always noticed.

“You’re nervous about her coming back,” she said without preamble.

Eric continued to stir.

“She’ll eat your cooking, you know. She always did.”

“That was four years ago. She likes pepper.” Eric added a dash of pepper.

“You’re still in love with her.” Naomi reached for the sturdy dinner dishes and placed them on the table. “Well, I hope you take every opportunity to get Lindsey back.”

Eric smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “This from the woman who never liked my fiancée.”

“You’re my twin. I’d resent anyone who replaced me in your life. And yes, I always thought you could do better than some animal lover who put her dog first and her boyfriend second.” Naomi picked up the silverware. “But I’m not the one who fell in love with her. And you haven’t been yourself ever since you let her walk out of here.”

“She walked away from me.”

“Wrong. You pushed her away by refusing to reschedule the wedding.” Naomi frowned at a spot on a piece of silverware. She wiped it on her heavy flannel shirt and set it at her usual place. “If I’d died, would you have wanted to get married the next day?”

Those words got a reaction. “You’re not a damn dog!”

“Lindsey was as close to that dog of hers as you and I are. They were like us—twins.”

“You’re dead wrong.”

“I’m not wrong! You know what I’m thinking most of the time. I know what you’re thinking. We know each other’s actions, movements, likes, dislikes. Each of us knows how the other would react to just about any situation at home or on the job. We’re in sync—we work perfectly together. Same with Lindsey and her dog. You and I love each other, we get along better than anyone else could, yet you’d still choose Lindsey over me, wouldn’t you?”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Naomi. Drop—”

Naomi interrupted him. “Just like she would’ve chosen you over her dog, if you’d given her a chance. For heaven’s sake, Eric, she has a real gift with animals! I wouldn’t be surprised to see a grizzly eating out of her hand. She saved more lives with her dog than both of us put together. Because of your hurt pride, you lost a wife. And she lost confidence in her gift.”

Eric abruptly tossed the stirring spoon in the sink. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Naomi paused, a stack of silverware still waiting to be set out. “The Park Service practically ordered her back here to work as a canine handler. She didn’t want to leave San Diego. She hasn’t worked with a dog since she left Yosemite. That’s your doing. Our doing,” Naomi corrected herself. “And she’s playing Baywatch babe with the surfers and divers. She’s not climbing or skiing. She’s not the same Lindsey we knew.”

Eric found himself shaken. He and Naomi had talked about Lindsey a few times, but this was news. “I never heard… No, I don’t believe it. She’d never give up her dogs—or her search-and-rescue work with them.”

“That’s because you haven’t kept in touch with Lindsey’s sisters. I have. Lindsey’s no better for your breakup than you are—which is why you both need to repair the damage. I’ll help in any way I can. Her family wants their old Lindsey back. I want my old brother back. If that doesn’t happen, when this winter is over, I leave here for good. I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore. Knowing I helped make you so miserable makes it even worse.”

“That was four years ago. Why the sudden guilt complex? Because she’s coming back?”

“Because I am guilty.” Eric watched with horror as tears ran down his sister’s face. Naomi moved away from him to snatch at the coffee mugs and napkins. “I saw that you hated the time she spent with animals—you felt it was time she should spend with you. You felt her love for you was somehow compromised by her commitment to her dog. I know how you think, Eric. And I saw what it did to Lindsey. I should’ve helped you both—but I selfishly stood by. I’d already lost my husband. I didn’t want to lose my twin, too. But I lost you, anyway, by letting you walk away from Lindsey.”

“You didn’t ‘let me’ do anything, Naomi. I’m a big boy. Right or wrong, I made my own choice.”

“It was wrong.”

Eric watched the tears slide down her cheeks as she continued setting the table. He asked his sister a question he’d never asked. “Naomi, you only told me the truth, right? Or what you believed to be the truth? You never lied to me, did you? You said she wanted to break off the wedding and her dog’s death was the perfect excuse.”

Naomi didn’t answer. Shaken, he retrieved the spoon from the sink. “Naomi?” He started to press for an answer just as Keith returned with Ginger and announced, “I saw her. Better set an extra plate, Naomi. She should be here in about ten minutes.”

Could Lindsey have been right? That all along Naomi had planned to break them up? Never once had Eric suspected that Naomi might have deliberately deceived him. Eric took a deep breath and put the communal pot on the table. He reached for the lid to the breadmaker. He hadn’t clicked the switch hard enough to activate the process earlier, he noticed with dismay. There would be no bread with the stew, no bread for the replacement ranger.

Eric couldn’t help wishing for a more auspicious beginning. He checked his wristwatch once, twice and a third time, until he caught both his sister and Keith watching him.

“Just seeing if she’s still the punctual type,” he excused himself—he who never made excuses.

Naomi said nothing, but Keith remarked, “You can see her from the window now, Boss. Take a look.”

Eric loped to the front cabin window as fast as he could without seeming to rush. Despite the distance, he immediately took in the gracefully moving figure. The shape, size and movement hit him with a sense of recognition. He could pick Lindsey out in any crowd. The familiar pain he felt at her rejection warred with joy as the figure came closer and then stopped outside the porch door.

Before he could leave the food to hurry outside, she’d removed her skis, stepped inside the unheated enclosed porch, racked her skis and poles, and knocked on the inner connecting door. Eric immediately brushed past the other two rangers to open it personally, eager to see the face whose appearance once gave him such joy.

Lindsey Nelson stepped inside the cabin, bringing the cold air inside. The smile on his face froze as she spoke in a stranger’s voice.

“Lindsey Nelson reporting for duty as ordered, sir.”

One hour later

ERIC ROSE FROM THE DINNER table to fetch the apple pie he’d warmed for the night’s dessert, and wondered if Lindsey would refuse to have any. She’d refused his meat-filled stew earlier. After introductions had been made, Lindsey had declined dinner in favor of sitting on the huge, raised hearth and warming up in front of the fire. She hadn’t moved or spoken since, except to answer a few questions from Keith and apologize for her silence.

“I haven’t skied for four years, Keith. I promise we’ll get better acquainted tomorrow. Right now I just want to catch my breath.”

Her answer had shocked Eric to the core. Lindsey loved the mountains and skiing, yet her stiff movements, audible breathing and a repeated dose of Diamox showed she had indeed left the high country behind when she’d left him. Worse, her uncharacteristic detachment matched that of the depressed animal on the hearth. She hadn’t made eye contact with anyone, not even the dog.

My God, she has changed—and not for the better. Is Naomi right? Have we really done this to each other?

He brought her the first piece of pie. He remembered she loved apple and preferred it warm with coffee…or at least she used to. “The bread will be ready in an hour. This should hold you until then.” He handed her the plate with its fork and the cup of coffee. “Two artificial sugars and cream, right?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t use chemical sweeteners anymore,” she said quietly. “I will take the pie. Thank you.”

As she reached for the plate, the warm fire caught and reflected a sparkling gleam on her ring finger, a gleam that had been hidden in the dimness of the cabin. He stared at the diamond engagement ring—a ring much larger than the one he’d once bought her and still kept in his dresser drawer. The cup shook in his hand and coffee sloshed over the rim. He watched as she jumped and wiped at her indoor warm-up boots with her diamond-clad hand.

Eric backed away with the coffee. “God, I’m sorry. Did I burn you?”

“I’m okay. You just caught my boots.”

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I shouldn’t have poured it so full,” he managed to say.

“No harm done.” She turned her attention back to the fire, leaving him to set the cup on the table.

Soon afterward, the table was cleared and wiped. Keith went outside to add more fuel to the generator. Naomi went to the storeroom, as she had cooking detail the next day. Eric, Lindsey and the dog were alone in the cabin’s main room.

Lindsey moved from the hearth to the thick hooked rug on the floor. He noticed Ginger had slipped closer to Lindsey and seemed to be watching her as closely as he was.

“What’s her name?” Lindsey finally asked.

“Ginger. Although Naomi says her name’s gonna be RIP if she doesn’t start eating soon.”

Lindsey broke off a piece of pie crust, and silently placed it halfway between herself and the animal.

Furry golden head resting on her paws, Ginger studied the crust. Her nose twitched once, but that was all. Lindsey picked up the crust and popped it in her own mouth. The dog’s gaze took in the action without any visible response. Lindsey broke off another piece of crust, placed it somewhat closer than before, and waited. When the dog made no move toward the food, Lindsey took back the second crust and put it in her mouth, eating with casual nonchalance despite its having been on the rug.

“Is she drinking, at least?”

Eric nodded, registering true interest in Lindsey’s voice and on her face for the first time since her arrival.

“That’s good.” This time Lindsey broke off a bigger piece of crust with a chunk of apple filling. She placed the food inches away from the dog’s alert eyes and again waited a few minutes. Then she casually reached toward the pie chunk again. Ginger lifted her head and gulped the food down, her motions canine-quick. Lindsey reached for the plate of pie, and set the whole thing in front of Ginger. The dog licked the plate, next licked the pie itself, then, still lying down, she began gulping pieces of pie.

“Well. I see you haven’t lost your magical touch,” Eric said.

Lindsey shrugged. “Nothing magical about it. The dog obviously considers this fireplace area home base. She watched me sit on the hearth, then tensed when I sat on the rug. She hasn’t closed her eyes since. She’s still territorial. I figured she’d challenge me for that food sooner or later. Besides, she’s a golden.”

“Huh?”

“She hasn’t given up the ghost. Her breed adapts easily to new owners. Some, like German shepherds, don’t. That’s why retrievers are replacing shepherds as service dogs for the handicapped. They can be trained as puppies and passed on to new owners as adults with much less emotional trauma to the animal. Do you have any of that stew left?”

“Yeah.” Eric rose and hurried to the stove to scoop out Lindsey’s share of the dinner. Lindsey took the plate and set it on the rug next to the pie plate.

“Go on, Ginger,” Lindsey urged. “You had dessert. Time for the main course.” Ginger didn’t hesitate a minute. She actually rose to her feet to eat. Lindsey took the plate and lifted it onto the raised hearth so the dog would swallow less air. “No gas bloat for you, girl. Eat up. Compassionate leave is canceled. Tomorrow morning—back to work.”

Eric watched as Lindsey’s hand toyed with the long fur on Ginger’s ears. He remembered those fingers, gentle, soothing, skilled, touching him with love during their passion-filled nights.

“Naomi was right. You still have a gift with animals.”

“My father has the real gift. I learned from him. Where’s the dog food? She’s almost done with the stew.”

“I’ll get it.” Eric hurried to the dried food. He dumped a few cups of it into the empty stew pot and stirred, coating the nuggets with leftover gravy. Lindsey took the pot from him and started hand-feeding Ginger, who allowed the familiarity.

“Naomi told me you hadn’t replaced your dog.”

“Her name was Missy.”

Eric caught the edge to her voice—the first sign of emotion she’d directed his way. “I remember…. Haven’t you missed—” Working with dogs? Suddenly, what he wanted to ask stilled his tongue. Haven’t you missed working with me? Missed us together? His eyes studied the diamond on her hand.

Lindsey didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s always rough to lose a partner, two-legged or four. Sorry to hear about the loss of Eva.”

“We all are. Last week there were four of us, and now…”

Lindsey finished for him. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it being stuck, Lindsey,” Eric said quietly.

“If they could’ve found anyone else for a replacement… But they couldn’t, not on such short notice. I’d never have come otherwise.”

His stomach fell at that, but he refused to let it show. He glanced pointedly at her ring. “So I gathered. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“No one you know.” Lindsey stacked the cleaned dinner dish and pie plate in the empty stew pot and got to her feet. Ginger still watched her closely as Lindsey set the dishes in the kitchen sink. “I’m going outside with the dog. Where did Eva take her to relieve herself?”

“A couple hundred feet behind the summer storage sheds—not the same place you used for Missy. I imagine the dog knows the way.”

“I’m not taking any chances. Where’s her leash?”

“I—” Eric looked around. “I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Obviously you never considered this dog part of your team,” Lindsey said sharply. “But then, commitment was never your strong point, was it? Excuse me…sir.”

Lindsey and the dog headed for the glassed-in porch, leaving Eric feeling as empty inside as the unwashed stew pot.

Women’s bedroom

9:00 p.m.

LINDSEY UNPACKED THE FEW belongings she’d brought, the dog alertly watching her from a safe distance.

“I know the feeling, Ginger,” Lindsey said softly. “I don’t know what to expect from you, either. Or anyone else here, for that matter.”

Ginger’s ears perked up, but there was no responding tail thump at the sound of her voice, just as there had been no warmth in Eric’s eyes at Lindsey’s presence. The man she’d once trusted with her body, heart and soul had acted as cautiously around her as the dog had—even more so, truth be told.

“It’s not like I bite or anything,” Lindsey said. She dug into her meager pack of personal items with a stiff arm and rummaged around for her over-the-counter painkillers and muscle liniment. “If I feel this sore now, Lord help me tomorrow,” she said, easily slipping back into the long-unused habit of talking to dogs. “I hope this bed is soft, girl, because I could sure use some rest before tomorrow.”

She stripped down to her long underwear and socks, started to ease her weary body under the thermal sheets, thick blankets and down coverlet, then stopped. “I hate going to bed alone when it’s cold, don’t you? I’m used to Missy keeping me warm in snow country. I guess you’re used to Eva.”

Lindsey knelt down on the floor and took the retriever’s face in her hands. Her eyes dampened with tears at the waste of Eva’s life, the lost look on the dog’s face.

“I know this bed is more yours than mine, Ginger,” she said softly. “And I know I’m not who you want in it. But maybe we can share, okay? I promise to take good care of you…no strings attached. Fresh starts for us both, okay? You’re still alive and kicking, right?” Lindsey stood and patted the bottom of the bed. “Come on, girl. Let’s hit the sack.”

Ginger watched her warily. Lindsey climbed under the covers, then patted the bed again. “The carpet’s nothing like a down-filled comforter. Awfully cold on that floor. Eva wouldn’t want you to be cold, you know.” The dog remained on the rug.

“Suit yourself, Ginger. The invitation’s open.” Lindsey turned out the small light by the side of the bed, her disappointment at Eric’s coolness compounded by the dog’s rejection. “Good night, girl. Sleep tight. Don’t let the snow fleas bite. Yosemite does have snow fleas, you know. When’s the last time you had a new flea collar?” Lindsey yawned. “I’ll check tomorrow. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

Lindsey burrowed under the bed linens, noticing that the sheets smelled faintly of laundry soap and fabric softener. A fresh herb sachet lay underneath the pillow. Only Naomi made those. Eric’s sister had been surprisingly kind. Lindsey made a mental note to thank her, then lifted her head from the pillow for one last comment.

“Good night, pooch.”

Silence in the room. Lindsey sighed, tucked one of her cold feet under the other and waited to warm up enough so she could sleep. She waited in vain. She felt cold inside, cold outside, cold through and through. Maybe she should get up and find Eva’s arctic sleeping bag. That meant she’d have to strip to her skin and sleep in the bag atop the bed for maximum warmth. But she didn’t know where the bag was—nor did she have the energy to search.

Tomorrow I’ll check out this cabin in daylight. Everything feels better in daylight, Lindsey reassured herself, ducking her head under the covers. Even my nose is cold. Immediately she popped her head out. It reminded her too much of Eva’s death, buried under the deadly weight of killing snow. Her ring caught on a thermal-weave pocket, snagging and making a tearing sound in the blanket.

“Dammit!” Lindsey tried to yank off the ring. It was stuck because of the higher altitude and the puffiness of her fingers. Lindsey licked her ring finger and tried one last time. Nothing. She gave up the attempt, burrowed back down into the covers and forced herself to relax, willing her body to adjust to the cold of the sheets. “Some replacement I am,” she said aloud, extremely grateful that her new cabinmates—especially Eric—didn’t realize how weak and vulnerable she felt. Worse, loneliness seemed to make her feel colder.

Fine. Feel sorry for yourself—but only for tonight. Tomorrow, chin up. I’m not a coward. At least, I never used to be.

Exhausted and overtired, she tossed and turned until she felt Ginger climb up on the bed to stretch out alongside her, the dog’s head resting on her shoulder. She smiled, and only then fell into a deep sleep, so deep that she didn’t hear Naomi enter the room an hour later, followed by Eric.

“One short evening—and the mutt’s literally eating out of her hand. None of us could get the dog to budge,” Eric said in an undertone.

“She has a way with living things.” Naomi quietly pulled off her winter boots and socks. “She always has.”

Ginger, who had lifted her head at their arrival, laid it back down again. Lindsey moved in her sleep at the motion. Eric watched as Lindsey’s right arm came out from the covers to settle around the golden neck. Both dog and new mistress relaxed and were motionless again.

Brother and sister stared at the diamond solitaire on Lindsey’s finger. “No wedding band, yet, twin. It’s not to late to fight for what you want—if you still want it.”

Eric smiled, a predatory smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, I still want it,” he said. “I need to know if she does.”

Naomi’s eyes opened wide in amazement. “You didn’t tell me that!”

“I don’t tell you everything. Nor do I want you blabbing to Lindsey.”

“I won’t. Not until her wedding, anyway,” Naomi said.

“If there’s a wedding, I intend to be the groom. Me—not the bastard who gave her that ring.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Keep hoping.” Eric faced the opposite bed again and shook his head. “Lindsey and those animals. Some things never change.”

“Maybe you should do the changing,” Naomi suggested with a sibling’s frankness. “We both should. Start with calling Ginger by name and not ‘the mutt’ or ‘the damn dog.’ She’s been with us four years. And don’t rag Lindsey about putting the dog first. I won’t, either. The last time we did—”

“Don’t remind me. Still…I’ve got three months until the snow melts. I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice.”

“Three months…” Naomi echoed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Eric stared one last time at the ring. “But I believe we make our own luck.”

And that’s why I told Jack Hunter that Lindsey Nelson should be our replacement.