BIG SKY SECRETS 01: Final Exposure (3 page)

Then Megan came back to the phone. “I’ve gotta go—there’s an accident out on the highway, and
we’re short-handed. Take care, you hear? Let’s plan on Christmas together, okay?”

“Definitely.” Erin cradled the receiver, wishing Megan wasn’t several hours away. She remembered the golden days of the childhood summers they’d spent together, when the only worries were cloudy skies and the looming first day of school.

But Megan was right. Coming back to Montana might have briefly revived Erin’s old fears, but the past was over. With improved security measures and a noisy dog, she’d be perfectly fine.

And nothing—not old memories and not some two-bit vandal—was going to stand in her way.

Erin set her alarm an hour earlier than usual, finished a batch of fragrant caramel rolls and left a note on Millie’s front door saying she’d be open at ten.

By air, the trip to the small town of Battle Creek might’ve been ten miles at the most. But with the foothills rising into the steeper grades of the mountains, the trip involved thirty-six miles of winding road through a breathtaking example of God’s glorious hand.

In Battle Creek, a touristy village of fifteen hundred, she hung a right at the single major intersection in town and drove along the boulder-strewn shore until she spied a faded sign for the Bear Island Lake Rescue Shelter.

As a child, she’d come here with her parents to look at the puppies and kittens. Then, with crisp, white paint and a squadron of volunteers, the place had been impressive to a young girl eager to select a new pet.

Now, the paint was faded and peeling, the chain-link fences sagged with age and the dog runs were choked with weeds. Had the shelter moved to new quarters sometime during the years she’d been gone?

With a sigh, she started a three-point turn. Maybe someone in town would know—

At a flash of movement by the kennel building, she hit the brakes.

“Wait!” A tall, vaguely familiar woman waved to Erin as she jogged across the parking area. “Can I help you?”

If it had been a man headed her way in this lonely and desolate place, Erin would’ve kept going. Fast. But the middle-aged woman’s face was open and friendly, and with a bandanna tying back her hair and the dirt smudge on her cheek, she looked as if she’d been hard at work.

“I should’ve called ahead,” Erin admitted. “I just assumed the shelter would still be open.”

“The place closed three weeks ago. Most of the animals have been sent to shelters in the surrounding counties.”

Erin sagged against the back of her seat. “There aren’t any others in Latimer County?”

“Nope. And this place, as you can see, has gone to ruin. Our county funding dried up, and keeping it going with donations was impossible. Today I’m picking up the last few animals so I can padlock the doors. I was the director, by the way. Polly Norcross.”

Erin accepted the woman’s brief handshake through the window of her SUV. “What do you have left?”

“A few hard-luck cases. An old, sick collie. A diabetic cat. And Charlie.”

As if on cue, a haunting, mournful howl rose from the kennel that made the hair lift at the back of Erin’s neck.

“And that’s him.”

Erin sat up straighter. “He sounds
huge.”

Polly nodded. “He will be, which is a big strike against him with prospective owners. That and all the hair.”

“What on earth is he?”

“We think he’s Great Pyrenees, with a dash of Bernese mountain dog and maybe a little border collie. He’s around seven months old and he’s already above knee-high and at least fifty pounds. With all that hair, he looks even bigger, and he’s…um…just a tad rambunctious.”

“Is he mean?”

“Anything but. Though he does tend to bark incessantly when outside, and he wants to maul people with sloppy kisses. He mysteriously appeared at our
door just a couple weeks ago, tied to the fence with twine and thin as a rail.”

Erin’s heart lifted. Big. Noisy. Friendly. He sounded perfect. “Can I meet him?”

“Maybe when he gets to the Marshall County shelter. I can’t process any more adoptions here, because we’re closed.”

“But if he isn’t adopted, then he eventually could be put down?”

“Sadly, yes.”

“While you have an eager person right here? Can I just see him?”

“Well…”

“I’ve just moved back to the area, and I live alone. I really need a dog for companionship, and I like that he’ll be big.”

“You’re from the area?”

“I’m Bill and Jan Cole’s daughter. I grew up in—”

Polly’s face blanched. “Lost Falls. I babysat your cousins when I was in high school.”

Erin studied the woman, and again felt a vague sense of recognition. “It’s been such a long time…”

A shadow crossed Polly’s expression. “I was Laura Warner’s neighbor.”

Even after fifteen years, connecting with someone who was part of that terrible past had the power to suck the air from Erin’s lungs. “I…I still think about her so often.”

“A child’s death is so devastating. And when it’s someone close to your own age, well…it’s something that changes you forever.” Polly rested a comforting hand on Erin’s shoulder.

“Without a doubt.”

“Makes it harder to be alone, too.” Again, Charlie’s mournful howl sounded from inside the dilapidated building, but this time, Polly gave Erin a long, measuring look. “Every time I hear a noise at night, I jump. I still have an obsession over crime reports on the news.”

Erin nodded. The knowledge that life could be snuffed out in an instant—with just the happenstance wrong turn, or wrong encounter—was a hard lesson when one was young and blissfully naive. She sighed as she firmly shelved the memories and dredged up a smile. “I’d better let you finish here. Thanks for your time.”

“You know, I haven’t been on the payroll for the last month, because there was barely enough money for dog food,” Polly mused aloud. “So technically, I’m just a concerned volunteer. If you’d like to meet Charlie, maybe we can work something out.”

“Well, buddy,” Jack said with a smile. “Looks like another beautiful day. What do you think of this place?”

“Kay.” Max looked up from a pile of Lego blocks on the hardwood floor, his eyes brimming with tears. “I want Mommy here. And Daddy, too.”

“Me, too, buddy. Me, too.” Jack eased down onto the floor next to him and opened his arms to welcome the boy into his lap for a comforting hug, but Max just bowed his head and stared down at the Lego piece in his hand.

Jack’s heart twisted as he realized that he needed a hug as much as Max did, but still didn’t know how to reach past the child’s wall of lonely grief. He reached for a couple of yellow blocks and snapped them together. “Can I help you make something?”

“A barn?” Max rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. “And a truck?”

“You bet.” Jack started putting pieces together, forming first a red truck, then a barn in yellow, while Max worked on something that looked like a tower.

Their second night here had been better than the first, without any dramatic interruptions from the store next door. Max had awakened just once but then went back to sleep, and he’d even slept until ten this morning.

Jack, on the other hand, had stared at the gnome-like swirls and knotholes in the pine paneling of his own room until almost dawn.

In the old days, he’d been able to turn his worries over to God and had felt an abiding sense of peace no matter what was going on in his life, but that sure wasn’t working anymore.

Janie and Allan’s car accident, coupled with the
problems back at his investment company, seemed beyond the realm of faith.

“I have to work on the computer for a while today,” he said as he finished a crude approximation of a barn. “Would you like to go next door for some breakfast first?”

Max looked up from the colorful castle he’d started building. “Sticky rolls?”

“Ahh, the caramel rolls. Maybe we can split one after you have something a little healthier.” Jack tousled the boy’s hair. “I think the store has movie rentals, so maybe you can pick out something to watch while I’m working this morning. Does that sound okay? And then we’ll go have some fun this afternoon.”

Max nodded.

The child looked angelic, with his pale blond curls and those bright blue eyes framed in long, dark lashes. So angelic and broken and lost that once again a familiar pain settled in Jack’s heart like a heavy, cold weight.

Would Max ever again be the happy little boy who’d once romped through his parents’ home, innocent of every terrible thing life had to offer? Was it even possible?

Max dutifully got dressed and followed Jack to the store. Again, the warm aroma of caramel rolls wafted through the door as they stepped inside, along with the smoky-sweet scent of bacon.

This time, three of the six small tables in the tiny café area were filled. The other patrons—burly, older fellows who didn’t look comfortable in the fanciful, wrought-iron chairs—were bent over steaming cups of coffee, talking about elk hunting and the tinder-dry conditions up in the high country.

As one, their attention swiveled to the newcomers and they nodded in greeting before falling back into their respective conversations.

Jack rested a hand on the boy’s thin shoulders. “Wow, I’m hungry. How about you?”

Max nodded silently as he climbed into a chair at the table by the front window.

A moment later, Erin backed through the swinging doors leading into the kitchen, bearing five plates stacked up her arm. She faltered when she noticed Jack, then bustled about delivering the food and filling coffee cups.

She seemed to be working alone and was falling behind, so Jack settled back in his chair and surveyed his surroundings.

The store was actually a large log cabin of sorts, charming and touristy, with rustic beams inside and a soda fountain that looked like it dated back to the 1920s.

The rest of the place seemed crammed with everything under the sun. Even Max appeared to be fascinated, though now his attention was caught by the massive moose head mounted over the soda fountain.
A few dusty Christmas-tree ornaments, remnants from last year, hung from its antlers.

When she arrived at the front table at last, a pad and pencil in her hands, Erin’s smile was less friendly than it had been the day before. “Can I help you?”

Jack conferred with Max one more time, then ordered two bacon-and-egg specials, plus caramel rolls in a box to go.

Erin turned his coffee cup upright and filled it, then spared a more genuine smile for Max before she sped back into the kitchen, where she was clearly doing double duty as the cook.

He stared after her for a moment, weighing the possible reasons for her change of attitude. Maybe she was just stressed and busy…but he had a feeling it was something more. “Hey, buddy, want to play hangman? Tic-tac-toe?”

Max shrugged, so Jack started a game of tic-tac-toe on a paper napkin, careful to avoid the best positions on the grid. By the time their food arrived, they’d finished a dozen games and Max had fixed Jack with an accusing glare.

“You didn’t try.”

Jack grinned. “Nope—you’re just really tough to beat.”

Max’s chin lifted at a stubborn angle eerily reminiscent of Janie’s when Jack and his sister were growing up. “Mommy tries. That’s better.”

Jack’s heart caught at the boy’s use of the present tense when he spoke of his mother. “How about I try harder next time?” Jack glanced at the bookshelves filled with board games and old paperbacks by the potbellied stove in the corner. “Or we could try Scrabble or checkers.”

Max poked at his egg without answering, and Jack belatedly realized that those games were too advanced. “I think I see Candy Land over there, too. Would you like to play that?”

Silence.

Erin appeared at their table again, coffeepot in hand. “Maybe he’d like to ride a horse. There’s a stable a mile up the road. Gentle horses and ponies, easy trails for the kids.”

Max looked up at her.

“I think I recall a pretty little paint pony just about your size.” She grinned. “And I’ve got someone for you to meet, if your uncle has a minute.”

“A
horse?”

“Nope. But he’ll end up the size of a pony someday. I picked up a half-grown pup at the county shelter this morning, and I bet he’d love to play with you.”

Max’s eyed widened, and seeing his face light up made Jack’s heart swell in his chest. “Thanks, Erin. Great ideas.” But when she shifted her gaze to meet his, again he felt the temperature in the room drop ten degrees.

Her level look seemed to arrow right through him. “I need to talk to you for a few minutes. Alone.”

“Is something wrong?”

She glanced at the other customers, then bent low to whisper in his ear. “I just need to ask you a few questions…or I’m afraid my cousin will be pulling up in her patrol car to take care of it herself. And believe me, you don’t want to tangle with her.”

T
here was no one to watch Max during a private conversation, but there was no way Jack wanted to put this off, either.

Damage control had been his mantra for the past six months, and the faster difficult situations were handled, the better.

And now Max, who’d been all too aware of the reporters, and the baleful glances of people on the street back in Texas, was watching him with very curious eyes. “Were you bad, Uncle Jack?”

Judging by the faint blush rising on Erin’s face, she hadn’t thought the boy would overhear.

Jack grinned. “I sure hope not. I wonder—maybe we could go see that puppy when we’re done here?”

Glancing around the little café, Erin nodded. “The others are nearly done. I can join you in fifteen minutes or so—out back, at the cottage?”

Embarrassed, Erin fled to the kitchen and ran a load of dishes through the commercial dishwasher, glancing out into the café every few minutes.

When the last customer finally finished and paid his bill, she hung a Back In Ten Minutes sign on the front door and went out to her cottage.