Stony River (37 page)

CHAPTER 24

Sevana anticipated no trouble retracing her route since she had traveled it once already. But instead, everything looked different going the other way by daylight, and before long she realized she was on the wrong road, for it had dwindled to two tire tracks snaking through fender-high weeds on the side of a very steep canyon. She chewed her lip as she squeezed around a tight corner, and resolved to turn around at the next wide place.

But now there were no more wide places. She drove more and more slowly, until the truck was barely crawling. She thought about stopping and backing out, but she knew she couldn’t back that big vehicle around all those corners with no room for the slightest miscalculation. Even now, she wasn’t exactly sure where her tires were, and the right side of the truck appeared to be out in space. Sweat broke out on her forehead. There had to be a wide spot ahead, she told herself. The person who made the road had turned his equipment around
somewhere
.

At the next curve she brought the creeping truck to a standstill, for she didn’t like what she saw. An entire section of the cutbank had gone down the mountain, taking part of the road with it. Enough rocks had been cleared from the remaining road surface to make a path through the slide, but it hardly looked wide enough to proceed.

Sevana viewed it queasily. If she hugged the inside as far as possible, maybe she could get by. There must be enough room, or the road would be posted as closed. In any case, she had to go on, because there wasn’t room to turn around where she was. She pushed the hair out of her eyes. How had she gotten into this predicament? She didn’t want to go through that hellish place, but it was the only choice she had.

Mouth set in a firm line, she put the vehicle in gear and moved forward, dangling her head out the window to make sure the tires were as close to the bank as possible. As for the other side—she didn’t even look. She had always liked Fenn’s square-front truck, but now she wished it was streamlined and sleek. She inched forward, hearing rocks crunch under the tires.

She was in the middle of the slide, and experiencing a bit of premature elation because the truck hadn’t fallen off the cliff yet, when there was a loud pop and the truck gave a sickening jolt. Petrified, she jammed on the brakes. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t even open her door to investigate because of the boulders blocking it.

Crawling out the window, she clambered over the rocks to the front, where her eyes told her what she didn’t want to see: the passenger-side tire was flat, punctured by a rock. She was also horribly fascinated by the mere handbreadth between the deflated tire and the slumped edge of the road.

She’d really done it this time, she congratulated herself, leaning her elbows on the hood of the truck. Even if she did know how to change a tire, which she didn’t, there was no way to do it unless she didn’t mind standing on thin air. Fenn’s truck would have to stay right where it was until he came to claim it, and she—
she
had a four-mile hike back to the other road before she could even hope to catch a ride. Nobody would be coming along
this
road, because she was the only one in the world stupid enough to travel it.

Totally dejected, she wriggled through the window far enough to extract the keys, and began her trek toward distant civilization. But she hadn’t gone very far when she saw a vehicle coming toward her. To her utter joy and astonishment, it was Trick. Trick, too, had a big smile across his red-whiskered face, as if the sun of good fortune had burst full upon his path.

“Hey, Sevana, what’s up?” He came bounding out of his truck.

“I got on the wrong road, and now I’m afraid my truck has a flat tire and it’s blocking the way,” she said forlornly.

Trick took one look ahead and grinned. “Ah, the famous Billy Goat Mile. Like our roads?”

“This one’s absolutely terrible!” she gave vent to her frustration. “There should be a sign posted at the beginning, cautioning motorists that they are about to get themselves in a lot of trouble and not to even
think
about taking that road.”

“That’d be a pretty long sign.” Trick was still grinning. “And not necessarily true. I’ve driven it before and didn’t get into trouble.”

“But you
could
have,” she argued. “Anybody can see it’s not safe, with part of it fallen away like that, and all those sharp rocks.”

“Okay, I’ll admit—it’s one of our worst. And it slides no matter how many times they fix it. But it’s part of our mountain life, and we do so like it here, don’t we, Sevana?” He said it as one for whom the romance of the backcountry had worn off a long time ago—providing it ever existed. But Sevana swallowed her protests then, because she
did
like it there. Whatever came with living in those heavenly looking, wickedly steep mountains, she would just have to learn to accept it.

Despite the intellectual deficiencies attributed him by Fenn, Trick knew exactly what to do in that situation. He backed and parked his pickup out of the way, then tossed off a few of the bigger rocks and drove her limping truck through the slide to a place wide enough to change the tire. After putting on the spare, he fearlessly turned the truck around, inch by calculated inch.

“Trick, you are a godsend,” Sevana said fervently when he slid out to let her take the wheel again. “I would never have had the courage to turn around there.”

“’Twasn’t nothing,” he said unimpressively, aiming a stream of tobacco juice at the open air above the drop. “Once I had to do a sixteen-point turnaround. This was only eight.”

“How did you happen to be on this road just when I needed you?” she wanted to know.

“They’re sending me across the drainage to get a better view of the fire.”

“I didn’t see you at fire camp last night.”

“I’ve been at spike camp. You mean I missed you? Drat it all.” He smacked his forehead remorsefully, then looked inspired. “Say, want to keep company with me today while I play lookout? I won’t have much to do.”

“I’d like to,” she assured her benefactor. “But I’ve got to get to Cragmont and have Fenn’s tire fixed before he finds out. In fact, would you please never,
ever,
mention to him that I took his truck through the Billy Goat Mile?”

“If you’ll go to a movie in Nelson with me,” Trick said promptly, further discrediting Fenn’s estimate of his mental alacrity.

“Of course I will,” said Sevana graciously, for what else could she say to the one who had saved her very skin? She stuck out her hand. “Trick, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along.”

“It’s not often I get to rescue a beautiful woods-goddess.” He held her hand for longer than necessary. “I’ll be around for you after the fires are out.” The way he said it gave the impression he was thinking of collecting her for something more significant than a two-hour movie.

Sevana didn’t want to drive through the slide again, but Trick moved a few more rocks and told her to just go slow, she’d be all right. He would do it for her, except she needed to gain confidence for next time when he wasn’t there. So she held her breath and did it on logic alone, even though her side of the truck was hanging so far out in space she could look clear down to the bottom of the canyon. On safe ground again, she stopped and waved jubilantly to Trick, who stood to see her safely through.

The owner of the Cragmont mechanic shop was able to help her right away. He recognized the truck, so she had to explain her relationship to Fenn. Hearing this, the mechanic smoothed his slicked-back hair with interest. “I heard you were living out there. How’s it going?”

Here it was again. Sevana had to swallow down her resentment at being the subject of the town’s gossip. “Very well, thank you,” she said, a trifle stiffly.

“Really?” He probed her with his deep-set stare. “Well, that’s good. Some folks seemed to think you’d be back here looking for a ride out of town within a week…but looks like you proved them wrong.” He gave the impression he’d been strictly on the side against such erroneous judgment, which Sevana highly doubted was the case. But when she remembered how she had almost lived up to their expectations, she knew she couldn’t hold it against any of them.

While she waited outside for him to do the work, Fenn’s former girlfriend surprised her by coming across the street in jeans and a bright floral shirt. She looked very pretty but cautious as she nervously moistened her lips. “Say—Sevana?”

“Oh, hi—”

“Melanie.” She flipped back her glinting length of rich red-gold hair and glanced toward the truck. “Is Fenn—?”

“No, he’s out fighting fire.”

“Oh. Yeah, I heard it was pretty bad.” Her laugh had a tremulous edge. “Well, tell him I said hi.”

“I will. Say—Melanie, if you’d like to come out for a visit sometime…”

Her long, brown lashes fluttered over green eyes. “Oh, thank you. But I really don’t think it’d be a good idea. You know—” her hand flitted out helplessly, “the way things turned out…it was my fault. I didn’t realize the way I felt until it was—too late.”

She began to walk away, but from the distance now between them she turned and called back in a more confident way than before: “Tell him I climbed Eaglehead Dome.” There was a jaunty curve to her mouth, as though she couldn’t resist the pride of wanting him to know. “Solo.”

“You’re a rock climber?” Sevana wanted to make sure she understood her.

“Yes. It was my first solo climb. And it was such a kick.” Her face had come alive. “It was Fenn who encouraged me to get into it to start with. I took him on a couple of climbs. He’s a natural.” Her exuberance faded, and she fell awkwardly silent.

“I’ll tell him, Melanie,” Sevana promised, sorry for the distress the other girl was obviously feeling. “And congratulations on your climb.”

“Thanks, Sevana.” She walked away, carrying herself with the quick energy of a vivacious personality. Sevana liked her. She should try to persuade Fenn to look her up—not that she had any sisterly power over him. But she could drop a few hints.

The tire was soon repaired, the mechanic paid and fervently blessed, and Sevana was on her way home, thanking the stars above that Fenn would never have to find out she had grounded his truck.

Past the narrows, all pressure gone from the day, she adopted a sightseeing mode and stopped in a turnout to walk back and look at the Devil’s Ladder. With the river at low levels, the rapids ran in clear sheets over the stair-step slabs of rock—still impressive, but lacking their noisy thunder. Driving further up the canyon, she spied the warden’s truck parked at a bend and pulled over beside it. Mr. Radnor was down on a little sand beach, releasing the otters into a pool.

When she went down to meet him, there was only one otter left to be set free. She looked into the cage and the bright-eyed animal looked back. “At least he was humane,” Randall remarked, in acceptance of her presence there. He toted the last cage to the water, and the otter took a smooth plunge to join the other three already swimming and diving in the river. “They were fed and treated well. I might go easier on him because of it.”

After the cages were empty, Randall’s tense manner relaxed as much as it ever did. Watching the otters play in their new freedom, he said analytically: “I can’t fault that trapper for laziness. After he was spotted, he must have decided to move his operation across the river. I’ll admit I spent most of my time looking on the accessible side. Of course I didn’t have any concrete proof such a person existed. And quite frankly, I didn’t think anyone would be ambitious enough to scale these mountainsides and walk miles of untrailed riverbank. He was pretty smart, and he might have gotten away with it. It was only the trap you found that led me to seriously believe he was working the other side.”

“What about that camp you found up Alder Creek? Was it part of the operation?”

“That was a false lead. I caught up with the fellow, questioned him. He was a hydrology student collecting stream data for his thesis, and didn’t have a car. One of his buddies dropped him off.”

Sevana smiled. “I can see why he had you fooled.”

“Yes; I didn’t tell him he’d been under suspicion.” Randall, too, gave a smile that fought his stern aspect. He had gotten used to her, so he could meet her eyes without veering away. “In this job you have to suspect; you have to be watching all the time, trying to put things together.”

Sevana wondered if that was his way of apologizing for the insinuations he’d dropped about her brother. She decided not to bear a grudge. After all, she had concocted her own mistruths about Fenn. With embarrassment she recalled the scene she’d made when she found that marten fur.

“Well, I’ve got paperwork to do.” He was on the move again, aware of time passing while his feet were standing unproductively in one spot. He shook her hand formally. “Thank you again, Sevana. I’ll be in touch about the reward.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m putting you down as the informant.”

Her eyes widened. “But
you’re
the one who found the poacher.”

“It was your discovery of the trap that led me to look in the right place. They’re not going to give
me
a reward, Sevana—understand? It’s my job.”