Wild Ice (5 page)

JD
went to put his arms around her, but she held one hand up and clamped the other one over her mouth. When Darla’s strength wavered, she resorted to stubbornness.

He ran his hand over his shaved head. “Baby, come back to bed. Please,” he pleaded. “You need your rest.”

“I don’t want to rest!” she yelled, dropping her hands to her sides. “There will be plenty of time to rest…
later
,” she said, lowering her voice. “There are things to be done and I’m sick of not being able to do them. All I do is lay around while the clock is ticking.” She stabbed her finger at the list. “There’s a scrapbook in here I want my sister to have, okay? And whatever Sloan doesn’t want should be donated to the women’s shelter and my books should go to the public library...”

He wanted to tell her that no one cared about her designer shoes and handbags
, but he didn’t. He cared about
her
, not who was going to inherit her collection of Jimmy Choo shoes. But this was important to her, so he’d do it. He knew Darla didn’t really care about the
stuff
. She just needed something to occupy her brain with besides the inevitable.

“You have to let go, honey. I’ll take care of everything. I need you to rest. Save your energy.”

“For what?!” she screamed and her voice cracked.

She beat his chest as hard as she could
, but she was so weak he could barely feel it. He let her vent her anger and mourn the life she was losing.

“There’s nothing else to save my energy for. This is it. This is it…,” she sobbed. “And I’m not ready.”

He pulled her close again and this time she didn’t pull away. She wrapped her frail arms around him and let him hold her together. She was skin and bones and he held her as tight as he could without bruising her. They cried together inside the closet and cursed the disease that was stealing her life out from under her and then cried some more.

He
remembered the rest of that night clearly. After her outburst, Darla didn’t have any energy left, so he propped her up in her favorite chair and they went through her things together…

JD woke up with a start. Disorientated, he looked around to gather his bearings. The grandfather clock ticked in the corner
of the living room and the green digits on the microwave glowed from inside the kitchen. He was downstairs again, in the La-Z-Boy. Away from any potential triggers.

He sat up and declined the
footrest. Mel grunted in his sleep, probably dreaming about chasing a jackrabbit or something. JD got to his feet and padded barefoot out the French doors and onto the back patio. The night air was balmy and smelled of marsh grass and dew. An owl hooted in the distance. The black sky glittered with stars and crickets chirped. Even in the dead of night, he could hear ducks quacking in the distance when something disturbed them in their sleep.

JD gulped the air but it was sticky and warm in his lungs and did nothing to clear his head.
The vast sky and wide open space of the wetlands should have made him feel better and provide perspective. But all it did was make him feel small, insignificant and more alone than ever.

The flip-flap of the doggie door
sounded and Mel sat down at JD’s side.

“How you doing,
buddy?” he asked, rolling his knuckles over the dog’s head.

Mel yawned
and a high-pitched sound wheezed out of his muzzle. A wet tongue darted out and slathered JD’s hand.

JD brought his hand up to his face and in the starlight he could see that it was shaking.

Chapter Six

The Nest

The weather was unpredictable in Hayley’s Point. One day
, dark rainclouds raced across the sky as if their lives depended on it and the next day Lauren would wake up to a solid blue sky void of anything but birds and sunshine. Today was one of the rare days where a few fat bottomed clouds sat low in the sky, their white fluffiness a stark contrast to the brilliant blue of the sky. A strong breeze from the north kept the June sun from being completely unbearable. To Lauren it didn’t matter what was going on in the heavens. She would take her morning walk on the trail come rain or shine. She hadn’t seen much rain during her time in Hayley’s Point but that was probably because it was summertime and the rainy season didn’t start in northern California until October.

Lauren
was already up to dozens of different species on her life list. There was one species she’d yet to see, but that was about to change. Lured by the melodic song of what she suspected was the elusive Northern California weaver, she crept through the trees and off the beaten path.

The wetlands were a scavenger hunt.
Behind a bush, in the trees, beyond the next bend… You never knew where you’d find your next great discovery. Lauren found hers in a white alder tree with scaly bark. The old tree straddled the property line of the refuge and the mansion.

Slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, s
he lifted her binoculars and adjusted the focus. When the image became clear, her breath caught in her throat. There they were. A pair of Northern California weavers feeding their young in their nest.

Their purple and green feathers shone metallic in the sunlight.
What a rare gift to be able to catch a glimpse of a bird on the cusp of extinction! They were so beautiful! It was a shame their population was on the decline.

The name didn’t do justice to their stunning beauty
, but they were called the Northern California weaver because of the tightly woven nests they built and because they could only be found in the Red Valley area of Northern California. To limit other predators from harming their young, the weavers built their nests in early summer when the bird population in the area was at its lowest.

Lauren
might not have noticed the nest if the dog hadn’t alerted her to their presence in the tree. She still wasn’t completely sure where he lived. He just sort of appeared on the trail whenever she went out for a walk. After he disappeared down the trail last time, Lauren thought she’d imagined the yellow dog. But when he returned the next day, she knew she hadn’t been seeing things. This morning he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and eager for another adventure.

He
whined at her feet and she shushed him.

“I wish you could see how amazing they are,” she whispered.

As wonderful as it was to discover the weaver’s nest, it would have been even better to have someone to share it with.

Chapter Seven

The Woman in the Field

When JD dumped his empty cereal bowl in the sink, movement in the field beyond the window caught his attention. It was probably just an animal. He’d seen deer and jack rabbits come so close to the house that they’d sent Mel into a tizzy. Speaking of Mel, JD looked around and he was nowhere to be found.

JD
squinted at the window and tried to make out the figure. This wasn’t some animal grazing in the field. It was a woman. Mel trotted happily beside her as if it was something he did every day of his life.

JD
might not have seen the woman over the tall grass if it wasn’t for the huge hat she wore. The way it bobbed up and down was odd too. What exactly was she doing? Jogging?

She came out into the clearing and it
became obvious. The woman was skipping.
Skipping
. JD couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a grown woman skip. Probably because the last time was
never
. Mel was practically skipping as well. His long tongue lolled out of his mouth and he looked as happy as a kid on roller skates.

What was she doing out there?
Besides skipping with his dog, of course.

Thoughts of trespassing were abandoned when
JD saw her face. She was smiling. Not a small timid smile or a phony Joan McKinnon million-dollar-sales-pitch smile, but a full-on show-your-teeth-and-throw-your-head-back kind of smile.

What was this skipping woman doing on his property anyway?
Then JD remembered Joan mentioning something about there being trails all around the property. At the time he couldn’t care less, but now he was unnerved by it. He didn’t fork over one point four million to have people trampling through his backyard.

JD
couldn’t help but wonder what was out there that would be so exciting as to attract the floppy-hatted woman to the area. The racket of those damned birds obviously didn’t deter her. Maybe that’s what brought her here.

The binoculars hanging around her neck told him she must be interested in wildlife. Either that or she was a paparazzo.
Nah. Besides a few curious glances at his house, she didn’t pay much attention to anything other than the birds flying overhead and his dog. She wasn’t there to spy on the recluse former hockey player who’d disappeared off the map. She was there to watch those damn birds and make friends with his dog.

JD
leaned closer to get a better look at her face and smacked his nose into the glass. “Ouch!” he yelped, startling himself. He stepped back from the window and rubbed his nose.

When it looked like the woman might walk right up to the back door, she cut north and disappeared into the tall grass again.
Just then, Mel clanged through the doggie door in the mudroom and bounded into the kitchen.

JD turned from the window and frowned. His dog had an obnoxiously happy grin on his face.

“You have fun out there?” he asked.

The sarcasm didn’t waiver Mel’s grin.
Instead, the dog sat down in front of JD and thrust his paw out to be shaken.

“Why don’t you ask your new friend for a treat?” he asked bitterly.

Mel’s ears perked up at the keyword “treat”. His big paw clawed the air and JD finally shook it. He tossed Mel a Milk-Bone from the pantry and headed back to the recliner.

* * *

The refuge office and museum was located on County Road 97, just off Blue Heron Lane. Lauren wanted to share her news about discovering the
weavers, so she set out for the refuge office on foot. It was only a short distance away, so instead of taking her car, she walked. The dirt road was rarely traveled and if she spotted a bird it would be easier to identify it on foot instead of hanging out her car window.

Lauren took the opportunity to breathe in the fresh air and clear her thoughts. Since arriving at the cottage, she hadn’t allowed herself to think about the real reason she’d decided to leave South Oakdale.
Thoughts of Daniel clambered up before she had a chance to push them away. She’d already wasted far too much time obsessing over his foolish decisions, but couldn’t seem to keep the thoughts at bay for long.

They were both so different from each other that Lauren began to doubt the foundation of their relationship
altogether. Daniel wanted to be the most interesting person in the room, and more often than not, Lauren found birds more interesting than people. Daniel’s antics as class clown might have been endearing in high school but his charm wore off soon after college.

So many of their years together were spent with Daniel only thinking of himself.
That simple fact had Lauren questioning everything. While she was getting her Master’s degree, he was… Well, she didn’t really know what he’d been doing. Maybe that was the problem.

Why couldn’t she see the signs earlier?
Before she ended up humiliated in front of her family and friends.

Had she just been in love with the idea of being in love? They were high school sweethearts. How could he throw away a relationship like that and just
abandon
her? The worst part was that he wasn’t even around to provide an explanation. She was left to answer everyone’s questions when she didn’t even know the answers herself.

On the upside, there was an upside to their breakup. It was nice not having a set schedule to abide by anymore. No wedding plans to see to, no appointments to go to. For months it had been nothing but
wedding this
and
wedding that
. Flowers, bouquets, dresses, seating charts… It made her heart ache that all the preparation had been for nothing. Some things just weren’t meant to be and she was okay with that. She’d get her happy ending sooner or later.

Lauren hissed out an irritated breath. Here she was rehashing the incident just like she’d told herself not to.

Up ahead, the Red Valley National Wildlife Refuge office sat encircled by laurel trees and crape myrtles. It was a plain looking building with a flat roof and tan paint. The parking lot was empty, but that was understandable in the summertime. During the school year, there would be busloads of kids on field trips and people walking on the trails and mingling throughout the museum. Groups of birders would be clustered around the viewing platforms and the photography blinds would be reserved by dedicated enthusiasts.

When Lauren pulled on the door handle, the door didn’t budge. Huh. Maybe it was just stuck. Th
e second time, she pulled harder and still the door wouldn’t open. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the glass. A display of stuffed water birds flanked the entryway. The lights weren’t on and nobody was home.

Lauren stepped back and t
he sign in the window caught her eye. She squinted to read it through the smudged glass. According to the sign, the Visitor Center was open Monday through Friday from 9:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M. The road for self-guided auto tours was open to the public one hour before sunrise and one hour after sunset.

That was all fine and dandy, but according to Lauren’s watch, it was ten o’clock now. The office should be open.

Lauren had foolishly imagined that an older woman in the office would greet her with a warm smile and a boisterous hello. She would be a kindred spirit who shared Lauren’s fascination with birds and nature and they’d discuss wildlife until closing time. Maybe she’d even remind her of Aunt Cora or maybe she would have known her. They’d become fast friends and Lauren would visit her at the office throughout the summer.

So much for that idea.
The office was locked up tight and there were no signs of human life anywhere.

Lauren sighed and turned back toward the cottage.
She was always doing that—having grand visions of the future only to have them crumble at her feet like day old bread.

* * *

Th
e next morning, JD found himself getting out of bed just to catch another glimpse of the woman in the field. He certainly wouldn’t admit that was the reason he’d developed a preoccupation with the kitchen sink, but he camped out there all morning nonetheless.

For some reason she seemed familiar to him even though he was one hundred percent positive he’d never met her before.
Yesterday, even though he hadn’t gotten a good look, he was sure she was pretty. Pretty? Now where had that come from? Why in the hell would he think she was pretty? He must’ve been spending too much time alone. Now he was conjuring up beautiful, skipping, free-spirited women frolicking in the meadow behind his house. If he’d been the only one to see her then that might be the case, but Mel had seen her too. The grinning, frolicking traitor.

After twenty minutes of standing in his kitchen like a reverse peeping tom, JD began to wo
nder. What if that was the only time she decided to walk that particular trail? What if he never saw her again? Something in his gut told him she’d be around again. He didn’t know why, but he did. It wasn’t like anyone lived around here. There weren’t even any other houses on the street. Except for…wait…the cottage. That’s where he’d seen her before! She was the woman he’d driven by on the way to the grocery store last week. He hadn’t even given her a passing glance when he saw her pruning bushes near the cottage. Seeing her should have sent up a red flag because he never saw people on his street besides the postman and the trash truck once a week. At the time, he just thought she was a caretaker or something. No, he didn’t really know what he thought—only that it was an inconvenience to wave back at her. The thought that she might actually
live
there
permanently
never even crossed his mind. Yet there she was, walking across his private property to get to some trail in the wilderness.

When JD
finally saw her through the window, he knew she wasn’t a hallucination. He knew he shouldn’t stare, but he couldn’t stop watching her. He liked the easy way she swung her arms as she walked. Her brown hair was long and she wore it braided down her back. The oversized hat hid her face and he found himself wondering what her face looked like. And what did she do out there on the trail? Did she pick wild flowers or hunt for ladybugs or something?

As much as JD hated prying his eyes
from the woman, Mel was a sight to be seen. There was his “man’s best friend” acting more like “woman’s best friend” while JD peered out the window like a love-struck teenager. Was Mel crouching? The big dog almost looked graceful beside her, mimicking the lithe way she walked. He
was
crouching or something damn near close to it. He was being careful as not to scare the birds away! Mel looked proud of himself and a little smug, which was unsettling.

JD looked back at the woman and noticed that h
er lips were moving. What was she saying? Was she talking to herself? Or the dog?

As she walked into the sun, the shadow lifted from her face. She
was
pretty. In a natural no caked-on makeup sort of way. Were those freckles on her nose?

The same as yesterday, she cut over toward the cottage and JD watched until she melted into the trees.

The doggie door clanged and man and dog stared riveted through the French doors.