Dying Embers

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JakeRivers
JakeRivers
1,057 Followers

Out of that, Dave convinced me to carry a rifle in my truck for a while. I never saw the bikers again but got used to having the rifle with me. When I saw the car I grabbed the rifle and edged around through the trees to come up to the late model Mercedes SUV from the rear. The windows were steamed up so I couldn't see inside and the car was heavily bogged down in a perpetually muddy spot in the road. It didn't even slow down my truck but this car was hung a lot closer to the ground.

I bent down and edged along the side until I got to the driver's window. I tapped it a bit harder than I intended with the rifle barrel. There was no movement for a minute then the window came down a couple of inches and a tremulous voice squeaked out, "Go away, leave us alone!"

I could tell a lot from that brief sentence. This was a well-educated eastern girl that was plenty scared and had the sexiest voice I'd ever heard – Julie London singing, "Cry Me a River" was a close second.

I rapped on the window again, this time leaving a star like a rock hitting the windshield would, and said much harsher than I'd intended, "This is private property. Didn't you see the sign on the road?"

The window came down a bit more and the sexy voice responded with more of a mad snottiness than the previous tired timidity, "We got lost in the dark last night and it was raining too hard to see any goddamned signs and we're tired and … "

I was starting to get mad myself but her voice trailed off into sobs. Damn, all I needed was a weeping woman on my hands. And what was this we business?

In a softer voice I asked, "Ma'am, are you in trouble? Do you need any help?" I guess that was a stupid question; any fool could see the car was stuck in the mud. "Roll your window down and let's see what we can do."

Slowly, the window came down a bit at a time. I crouched down so my face was level with hers and found myself staring into the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. They were the steel gray of rain-swollen clouds that went from a wide-eyed innocence to a narrowed suspiciousness as I continued to stare at her.

"Do I meet your approval?" she spat out.

I leaned back enough to take in her silky rust-colored hair, that framed her pale oval face with wild disarray speaking of a night sleeping in her SUV. Unthinking I reached my hand out to touch a silky strand of her capricious hair that, in the perpetual twilight of a dark morning under the forest canopy, looked almost burnt orange. She flinched and then jerked her head back - looking scared now.

Stuttering a little, I almost whispered, a soft voice, one used to gentle a scared animal or child, "You … you are so lovely. I look in your eyes and I see my soul. Who are you?"

She smiled a little at that, but with a clear sadness. From the back seat I head a sleepy, "Mom, what's going on?" I turned my head and saw a young girl, maybe sixteen. She looked like her mom probably did as a young girl but with hair more red and eyes blue.

"I'm sorry, let's figure out what to do to get you on your way." I was all business now. "I can pull your van out of the mud and see if everything is okay."

She nodded – it wasn't like she had a lot of choices to pick from. I drove my truck around and hooked up the winch. It was but a moment to pull her out. The rain had let up and was only a heavy mist by now. I asked them to step out and I got in the car. I started it and pulled forward a little but I could feel the clutch in the automatic transmission slipping and the car was barely inching forward; the tachometer was topping out but I was hardly moving. I opened up the hood and pulled the dipstick for the transmission out and it had that telltale burnt smell.

Getting out I saw I'd got the leather seat wet. I started to apologize but she shook her head impatiently. Clearly this was a woman with troubles and a stain on her leather seat wasn't one of the more important ones.

"Did you rock your car back and forth a lot trying to get out last night?"

"Yes, until the gas was getting low and I started getting sleepy."

"Well, it's pretty clear the transmission is shot. The nearest Mercedes dealer is down in Bend, close to fifty miles from here. If money is a concern I know a guy can order a rebuilt one and install it for much less than the dealer would charge. What's your name, anyway?"

"Mary Kate, Mary Kate … Danaher. I do need the car but I don't have … well, I don't have much money."

I knew right away she was lying about her name. Mary, yeah, probably. Maybe even Mary Kate. Hell, she even looked like a Mary Kate. But with the hesitation on giving her last name and the fact that was the name for the role played by Maureen O'Hara in "The Quiet Man," with John Wayne, I didn't think so. How was she to know I was a movie buff, that I'd seen the movie countless times, and that the first – and only – redhead I'd ever fallen in love with was Mary Kate Danaher? Another Mary Kate Danaher in my life? No way, Charlie!

"I'm Sam Adams and, well, don't make any jokes about the beer. That's already been done way too often. Look, I'm cold, you're cold, and your girl is cold. I'm way past hungry so let's go get something to eat and I'll check about the car. Don't worry about the cost until you know what it is."

We piled into the truck and drove to the Edge. The woman and her daughter immediately disappeared into the restroom with a small bag they had brought from the SUV. I gossiped with Carla for a bit, drinking some of her great coffee. When they came back I introduced them.

"Carla, this is Mary Kate … Danaher," here I hesitated exactly the way Kate did when she gave me her name. Carla gave me a sharp look of askance – I'd told her about my putative love affair with Maureen O'Hara. "And this is her daughter …?"

"Colleen," Mary Kate provided.

Carla asked, "What can I get you ladies for breakfast?"

Colleen jumped in with, "Pancakes!"

Her mom looked uncomfortable, and said, "I'm not hungry; I'll just have some coffee."

Carla looked at me with raised eyebrows. I nodded my head.

I walked them over to a table, bringing a pot of coffee with me. I pulled the chairs out for both Mary Kate and Colleen, getting a surprised look from both of them.

I figured I'd start trying to find out what problems there were that might need my problem solving skills – at the same time wondering cynically if I'd be so concerned if it weren't for those gray eyes that seemed to change color each time the light changed … and each shade seemed even more to take my breath away than the last.

"Where are you ladies headed to?"

They shared a nervous glance, and Mary Kate responded airily, "Oh, we were just wanting a change. Is it nice around here?"

Her accent called Smith or Amherst to mind - maybe rounded by a few years in California. Smiling at Carla, I replied, "Oh, we like it fine. Don't we, Carla?"

Looking back at Mary Kate, I dug a little deeper, "Where y'all from?" Sometimes that Texas accent slipped in on me.

With a slight vacuity to her eyes, she replied, "Oh, south of here."

Carla, eavesdropping as usual, pointed out, "Hell, honey, everywhere is south of here."

Seeing as how Colleen was wearing a Sea World sweatshirt I took a shot. "I've only been there once, but San Diego's a great place, isn't it."

With her first show of interest, Colleen replied, "Oh, yes, it's a …" her body jerked, like her mom had kicked her shin, " … a great place to visit. They have the best zoo, they …"

Her mom cut in with, "We're from San Jose." With a nervous laugh, she added, "You know, that place everyone knows the way to."

Carla brought the food over, a big plate of flapjacks and a sizeable slice of ham for Colleen, along with a tall glass of milk. Mary Kate wound up with three eggs, an even bigger slice of ham, and all of the free space on her plate was taken up with country style potatoes. I got my sausage gravy liberally poured over three huge biscuits.

Mary Kate started to get up, protesting, "No, I just ordered, coffee. I … really I'm not hungry."

"Carla, she says she's not hungry. I guess you'll have to dump this out."

"Mrs. Danaher," a little smirk here, "If you just won the lottery, would you buy me breakfast?"

Looking confused, she replied, "Well, I guess."

"Well, I just won the lottery. Eat!"

Carla went into the kitchen, laughing at me. I started in on my biscuits and gravy wondering if finding those sad gray eyes counted as winning the lottery.

Tom came in and I told him where her car was. "Tow it to your garage and check it out. Looks to me like a new transmission, but you're the expert."

"Yes, I am, ain't I?" Laughing, he walked out to his tow truck.

Mary Kate jumped right in with, "Wait a minute, I …"

"Mrs. Danaher, oh hell, Mary Kate, it's not going to cost you anything for the tow or estimate. We do things differently here than they do in … where was that? San Jose? If I see something you need to worry about I'll let you know."

Carla came out with some fresh coffee and sat down.

Putting her hand on Mary Kate's, she told her, "Honey, we're good folks here. Any one can see you got problems. It makes us no never mind if you don't want to talk about what ails you but if you want some help just ask. Now do you need money?"

"No, I …" Mary Kate started.

"Let me say that different," Carla continued. "I had a girl that quit last week to work at the Walmart down to Bend. She's getting married next year and needs more money than I could pay her. So I'm looking for someone to help me. If you need money I can't pay much but it would include any meals you want for you and your girl. Is that something you could do? I know it ain't what you're used to an' all that."

"Well, I … I guess I could learn, couldn't I? And if you need anything done on the computer, well, Colleen is a whiz. You know, menus and the like."

"Great, honey. You can pay for your meal today by clearing off the table. My feet are swollen something fierce."

Colleen jumped up and started picking up the plates. I helped her so I could show her where everything went. Just as I got back I could hear Carla, " … so if you need a place to stay Sam has this place that's perfect. And since he's not using it, I'm sure he wouldn't want to charge you anything."

Nervously, I jumped in, "Wait a minute, Carla. I'm sot so sure that's such a good idea."

"Hush, Sam. It's all taken care of. This is women's business any way. If it will make you feel better, I'll fetch you a piece of that cherry pie I done seen you lusting over for the last hour."

As Carla got up, Mary Kate, looking embarrassed, pleaded with me, "Mr. Adams, …"

"Sam."

With a faint smile she started over, "Sam, Carla just took over. Does she do that with everyone?"

"Yeah, she thinks she's everyone's mother."

"Anyway, I'm sure we can find something. Don't worry about us."

Damn, now I felt bad. She looked like she was about to cry again and I sure couldn't handle weepy women. She looked at me with those big gray eyes looking sadder than ever; something in my heart fluttered and I knew I was lost. All those resolutions about never wanting to let another woman get close enough to do what Jean had done to me went flying out the window.

She knew at once something had changed in me. Maybe those eyes really could see my soul and know my heart. The gray turned a shade lighter, the sadness lifted a little. Her eyes crinkled a tiny bit at the edges and her mouth turned up the tiniest fraction. Not a smile … just less sadness. There was this … this knowing look in her eyes. She knew of my pain, my hurt, my agony of what Jean had done to our marriage. Not the details, of course, but there was awareness in her eyes that said she knew me better than Jean ever had.

She gently placed her hand on mine and I knew that whatever was between us, if anything, she would never hurt me. And I looked at her and knew her hurts, her pain, and her sadness.

I squeezed her hand briefly and stood up. Business-like of a sudden, I said in my best optimistic voice, "Well, then. Let's go take a look at that cabin of mine. I'll have to move some stuff out and the place will need a good cleaning."

She went over to Carla and gave her a big hug, which earned me a wink from Carla. We piled in my old truck and drove out to my valley. By that time the clouds had broken and the sun was warming the ground causing an enchanting mist that added an air of mystery to the muddy track to the cabins.

As soon as the buildings came into view after the last turn Colleen started squealing, "You have a barn? And corrals? Oh, don't tell me, Mr. Adams, you don't have horses, do you?"

I was startled and must have looked bemused.

Her mom showed her first smile, the first hint of what laughter could do to her eyes. "I should have warned you, Colleen is more interested in horses than in boys. And she is very interested in boys."

Oh. "Well, no, I don't, but the previous owners did. There's all kinds of crap, uh, tack, I think it's called, and other stuff in the barn and it's all set up with stalls and such. You can see the corrals. I think they had a dozen horses or so."

"Oh, Mr. Adams, could I go look?" Colleen asked without looking back to see what my answer was.

I showed Mary Kate my cabin and then showed her the smaller cabin. It wasn't all that big. The main part was one big room with a bedroom and bath in the back right corner and the kitchen in the back left. The kitchen had a door out to a small deck and the bathroom (shower only, no tub) could be entered from the main living space or from the bedroom. There was also a good-sized loft with a bed and sitting area. The ladder was steep but I didn't think Colleen would have any problems with it.

It was actually in great shape. The previous owners had left the window covers, throw rugs and all the furniture. It was decorated with a western motif with Navajo rugs and such stuff. It only needed a good cleaning – I hadn't touched it in the three years I'd been there.

I spent the day moving my stuff to a loft in the barn and washing the windows inside and out. The girls tore into cleaning their new home. I was impressed with Colleen. I was expecting her to be surly, sulky and lazy like most of the teenagers I came across but she had a great sense of humor and laughed a lot. By the end of the day she was calling me Sam and her mom was looking more at ease.

I had Mary Kate make out a shopping list and in the middle of the afternoon I ran into Prineville to do the shopping and do a couple of errands of my own. I stopped by the garage and talked to Tom. Sure enough, the transmission was shot.

"I found one over in Eugene. If you can run over and pick it up, sometime next week I can start working on it. It came out of a car that was totaled but the transmission is good. It turned out to be a lot cheaper than a rebuilt one."

"Thanks, Tom. Don't worry about the money, I'll cover it until we get things figured out."

"Oh, hell, Sam. I weren't worried about that. Since Junebug died I don't know what to do with my money anymore. All the things we used to do together aren't fun anymore. If I couldn't work on cars, I'd probably just fall over dead of boredom."

I patted him on the shoulder and walked away. Tom was a good man.

I did all the shopping and got my errands done. I stopped by the small cabin first to unload. It was about a hundred yards from my cabin and closer to the barn and corrals. I carried everything in and they started putting it away.

Finally, I walked out the truck for the last item. On an impulse I'd found a flower shop that had some white roses that I thought would go perfect with Mary Kate's steel gray eyes. As I was walking in with them I wondered if she had a special shade of gray that her eyes turned for "bedroom eyes." Damn, I'd better get a grip on myself.

Gruffly I shoved them at her at said, "Here, this should make the room brighter."

I turned back at the door and I could swear her eyes were glistening. Yeah, Sam, get a grip.

Things went along for the next few months fairly smoothly. I was gone a lot. A week at the sawmill in Burns, several weeks at one or another of the timber harvesting sites. Mary Kate was helping out at the restaurant and Colleen would sometimes be there also. Carla was pleased that of a sudden there were a lot of young men eating lunch there.

Over my protests, Mary Kate had started cleaning my cabin. We argued about it. Her point was that since I wasn't cleaning it, someone should. I tried to tell her that wasn't a logical argument. In the end she just ignored what I said and when I wasn't there she cleaned anyway. Women.

One night I came in and she and Colleen were waiting for me in my cabin. Something smelled great and something not so great.

"Go take a shower and then we will eat."

Sure didn't sound like she would brook any nonsense from me. Dinner was great – and then it seemed like we were doing it regular-like when I was home. She was a great cook, imaginative and could make something tasty out of almost anything. Since I had eaten everything at the Edge about a hundred times each, I was a happy camper.

Colleen had started at the local high school. It worked out well because the bus stopped at the turnoff to my drive. The pickup point was right in front of the sad remains of the classic Indian Motorcycle. I'd felt bad right after I'd run it over with my truck … for about ten minutes.

Mary Kate was working mostly from breakfast through lunch and Carla would work breakfast and dinner. Lunch wasn't very busy now that Colleen was in school, except for weekends. Colleen seemed to be helping out for lunch on Saturdays and Sundays pretty regularly.

When the SUV was fixed I had to do some work on the road. I borrowed a dozer from work and did the grading in an afternoon. I worked a couple weekends for a guy in trade for gravel … if I'd pick it up myself. So I really spent almost nothing out of pocket and it wasn't muddy anymore.

Then I got a chance to know Mary Kate a lot better. I found out she liked to fish so I took her over to the John Day River one Sunday. It turned out she was better at it than I was. I'd sit around dreaming, watching the birds, the clouds, maybe actually fish once in a while. I just liked to get out and relax. She was much more focused - and successful. Finally, shamed into it, I put my waders on and got in the river. I was standing on a rock and jumped to another, not noticing it was wet. My foot slipped and I turned my ankle. I knew it was bad and I wouldn't be able to walk.

She helped me hop to the shore and we tried to figure out the best thing to do.

"Since you can't drive my truck you'll have to walk out to the highway and flag someone down."

"Why can't I drive the truck? Is this something personal where only you can drive it?"

"No, of course it's not that. But, Mary Kate, it's a stick shift and there's the transfer case and the four wheel drive and … "

She interrupted me, "And I have to double clutch when I shift and I have to sing those stupid cowboy songs of yours, right?"

I blushed at that. I guess I didn't realize I'd been singing when she was in the truck.

She drove the truck right down to the river and helped me in – it wasn't easy. She took it as slow as possible over the rocks to the highway and just drove it like she'd been doing it all her life. I'd look over at her ever once in a while. I had a healthy new respect for her. She could see me looking over and as usual knew exactly what I was thinking.

JakeRivers
JakeRivers
1,057 Followers