A Safe Haven

A SAFE HAVEN

PROLOGUE

I live near Missoula, Montana, in the Mission Range of the Rocky Mountains, just a stone's throw from the Idaho state line. I live alone, well except for a menagerie of 'tame' wildlife that I feed, especially in winter - deer, raccoons, and such. Maggie, my wife of sixteen years, passed just under two years ago. She had a rare blood disease called aplastic anemia and by the time it was properly diagnosed, she was seriously ill. In the end, she lost her battle with the disease. Since then, I've become somewhat of a recluse.

When Maggie passed, I stopped socializing as far as personal, one-on-one interaction, even with friends. I'm still active in my rural community, helping neighbors, doing repairs for some of the more elderly and for the local church; and I volunteer at the local animal shelter which is run by a retired veterinarian who takes in domestic strays, injured wild animals and homeless young ones.

I recovered from the initial grief that accompanied her passing, and I did gradually move from being a total recluse. I don't mope around, feeling sorry for myself; I just haven't recovered that part of me that I lost when Maggie passed. I'm generally upbeat when out in public; I just don't take the extra step to be personally engaging with any of the of people I've known for the last five-plus years. I know they think I'm still wallowing in grief, and yes, I think about Maggie and miss her every day, but that's not the heart of the issue. It's a matter of not being able to socially connect without Maggie by my side. I'm sure a psychologist would have some name for this condition, but there's a better chance of me inviting my neighbors to the house for a block party than me ever speaking to a shrink.

I love the mountains, as did Maggie. When she got sick, I sold my business, liquidated all our assets, sold our house, and we moved up here. She always wanted to live in the mountains; so we found a nice piece of property with a stream, and built the home I now live in. While she was going through the myriad of treatments at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, her father oversaw the construction of our home. In the end, we holed up here and I made her as comfortable as possible till the end.

As far as my inability to move on goes, I hope that someday, I'll be able to. The sad part is, right now, I am okay with my life the way it is. I'm completely aware of how one-dimensional it has become, but equally unable to take any action to change. And I would have been okay continuing this way for who knows how long, but then someone came along and screwed everything up.

That's a thumbnail sketch of my past. This story is about events leading up to the present.

INTRODUCTION

I'm Angus. I'm 42 years old. I'm a lanky 6'-3" and somewhere between 190 to 210 pounds - I don't own a scale. If I was shorter, I'd probably be called wiry. I'm pretty lean, but not skinny, and I do have broad shoulders and a broad chest. I guess I'm fairly strong, but I don't have obvious, bulging muscles. I was a cross-country runner in high school and college, and do have pretty powerful legs. I still run regularly, mainly for the therapeutic aspects - it helps my mental and emotional well-being, such as it is. I take pretty good care of myself and besides running, I regularly do push-ups and sit-ups, but no weights or fancy exercise machines. I do make a feeble attempt to eat right, and I drink in moderation. Running was one of many things Maggie and I had in common; she was a runner, too. At a little over 5'-11," with long legs, she could keep my swift jogging pace for reasonable distances.

I'm okay looking. The few women I've been with all said I was handsome - maybe so; but not classically so - I have a slightly angular face with a longish nose, patrician it could be called; I have a strong chin and jaw line; my eyes are brown, and my hair is a reddish-brown and a little wavy. It's somewhat shaggy these days, but not long; and I haven't worn a mustache or beard since college. Maggie said that except for my brown hair and eyes, I reminded her of a middle-aged Clint Eastwood, both in my looks and physically. Can't complain about that comparison.

I like the activities that come with living in the mountains - hiking, backpacking, skiing, and fishing. I love critters and I don't hunt. I grew up hunting, but lost my taste for it as I got older. Nowadays, I wouldn't shoot a gopher if it was tearing up my garden. My hobbies include all things architectural, including drafting and design - homes, churches, and other buildings. That's how I made a living when I still worked. I also have reasonable construction skills and like to build things, but I wouldn't hire me for anything serious.

STORY

I. LOST

I was gassing up my truck when a lady in a late model Lexus pulled up. As she exited her car, she was fiddling with her smartphone, then shoved it in her purse. I knew she wasn't from the area, and pretty sure she was lost.

"Looking for someplace or someone? Maybe I can help."

"Hi. Yes, thank you. I've been driving up and down this road for the last hour, looking for an address on a Heckler Grade - 350 Heckler Grade; and every time I think I've found the right way, it turns out to be a dead end. My car and my phone's GPS have both lead me on a wild goose chase.

"That's Aunt Emma's place, and the reason you couldn't find it is that it's not on the map, so not in GPS."

"Yes, that's my aunt...was my aunt's home. She passed..."

"Two months ago."

"So, you knew her. But how did you know she was my aunt?"

"Oh, that's what everybody called her here, Aunt Emma. We were friends. Of course, she was everybody's friend."

"I'm her niece, My name is also Emma."

"Good to meet you Emma, I'm Angus, and I'll be glad to help."

"I hope you can give better directions than the man I talked to back down the highway."

"I'll do you one better. I'll take you there."

"Oh no, you don't have to go to that trouble. If you could just..."

"Emma, trust me; it's getting late, and even in daylight it's not easy to find. If you got lost up there at this hour, you could be in a fix. Besides, I don't think your city car can make it up the grade. It's close to the snow line, and there's already a few inches where it hasn't been cleared, and I'm sure her lane hasn't been graded."

"Well, if it's no trouble, I would be grateful."

"No trouble at all. By the way, one of the reasons you were chasing your tail, is that there are six roads up here that start with Heckler."

She laughed, "Now I understand. I've been on three of them."

I smiled, "Well then, park your car on the side of the station. I'll tell Al it will be here a while. Oh, and have you eaten?"

"While I waited to meet with my aunt's lawyer to sign papers and pick up the house keys, I got a snack at a fast-food place around noon."

"Well, first things first. Let's get a bite. I haven't eaten, and it's over an hour round trip, plus whatever time you need there. Actually coming back will certainly take longer in the dark. It's a little treacherous then."

"Really, is it dangerous?"

"Nope, not if you're cautious, and I always am."

"I didn't see a restaurant anywhere."

"Nell's Place. It's not on the highway, so you wouldn't have. Nothing fancy, but good homecooked fare."

"Sounds wonderful. Now that you've mentioned eating, I realize I'm pretty hungry."

"Well then, Get your stuff, throw it in the truck and go park. I'll be right back."

We drove to Nell's which was having its rush hour. It was 5:30 and prime dinnertime for the older folks in these parts. The six chairs at the counter were all occupied and we got the last of the five tables. After Nell's husband died in a trucking accident, she turned her living room into a café of sorts, and now it's the only diner in the Heckler's Corner area. By the way, Heckler's Corner consists of a small rural post office; Al's gas station and garage; a road-side rest stop; and a mini-mart which features bait and tackle, and hunting supplies.

Nell greeted us, "Hey, Angus, grab a seat there for you and your lady friend. Hi deary, I'm Nell."

"Nice to meet you, Nell. My name is Emma."

"Like Aunt Emma. Isn't that a coincidence."

"Actually, I'm her niece. I was named after her."

"So, she was your real aunt. She was Aunt Emma to everyone here, too. We're all gonna miss her. She was the sweetest...Oh, sorry. You look hungry; I'll quit flapping my jaws. What would you all like? I have beef stew, fried chicken, and chili with beans, which is pretty spicy. And to drink, I have coffee, iced tea, lemonade and a few different sodas in cans."

"Emma, what's your pleasure?" I asked.

"I'll try the stew, and iced tea is fine."

Nell answered for me, "I know; you'll have iced tea, the chili and a bunch of corn bread with a pound of butter."

I smiled and nodded.

"Oh Emma, would you like anything with your stew?" Nell asked, "I have some fresh-baked rolls and I can make a salad."

"Rolls sound wonderful, and a small salad would be nice."

"Coming up. I hope you like butter. We don't have any of that other stuff. And right now, I only have two dressings made up - a thousand and a ranch."

"Butter's perfect, and I'll have the ranch."

Nell hustled off, and I started, "So, Emma, where are you coming from?"

"Seattle. That's where I live, at least for now."

"Oh, you planning on moving up here?"

"No. I inherited my aunt's property and came to see about selling it."

"I see. Just curious - you said, 'for now'."

"Oh, yes. I will be moving, just don't know where yet. I have feelers out for employment in several different places. I'm a CPA, and I already have a few offers. I just have to decide where I want to go."

"Hmm, I would think there would be plenty of opportunities in Seattle for a good CPA, or don't you like Seattle?" I asked just as our food arrived.

"Thank you, Nell."

"Your welcome, Angus."

After Nell left, Emma asked, "Where were we?"

"Seattle."

"Right. Well, Seattle's okay, but I, um, need to make a fresh start somewhere else."

I just nodded. She seemed like she wanted to talk, and I found myself enjoying chatting with her. It had been a while since I strung whole sentences together.

My usual public conversations go like this, "Hi, Tom, how goes it...Me too...Have a good one."

After a few moment's pause, she added, "I'm going through a divorce...an unpleasant divorce."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Emma. That's pretty tough, I guess."

She changed the direction of the conversation, "I see you have on a wedding ring, but you haven't mentioned your wife."

"Maggie, my wife, passed a couple years ago. I just never took the ring off."

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have pried."

"No, no. It's alright."

She sat and ate her food, silent for a minute, obviously thinking something over. Finally, she inquired about Maggie, "May I ask how she...um..."

"She was sick for quite a while, a rare blood disease, and it finally took her."

"I am so sorry for your loss. They couldn't do anything for her?"

"They tried. At first, she was misdiagnosed. It took a while before a specialist got it right and referred us to a Mayo clinic in Minnesota. We spent a year going through tests and treatments - everything from transfusions to stem cell treatment. Maggie wouldn't go for a bone marrow transplant, given the minimal chance of success at her advanced stage. In the end, she wanted to go peacefully. She was tired, sick, and too weak to continue treatment. So, we holed up here and I kept her as comfortable as possible. She passed in my..." I had to stop at that point, getting a little choked up.

"I'm so sorry. That has to be so difficult."

She reached a hand out and laid it on mine for a moment. I nodded without looking up, trying to regain my composure.

"I am sorry," she said softly.

"I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to get...so emotional. I'm fine, now."

Thankfully, she changed the subject, "May I ask what you do now...you know, for a living?"

"I'm retired now, but I was an architect. I specialized in commercial and public buildings - retail buildings, banks, churches and such. When Maggie got sick, I sold my business and holdings, and we moved here."

"You don't look near old enough to be retired."

"Yes, well, I'm not, and I'll get back to doing something again, but I'm just taking my time right now...So what about you?" I asked, to change the subject again.

"Well, I was in business with my husband. That's why our divorce is so messy. He doesn't want to 'share in the spoils', so to speak."

"May I ask what lead to the divorce?"

She gave a light laugh, "A 23-year-old, bleached-blond receptionist with big boobs, and apparently a trick pelvis."

"Your husband must be an idiot."

"Well, he is; a very smart one, but an idiot all the same. But why do you say that?"

"Pretty simple; he cheated on 'you' - has to be an idiot."

She blushed a little, "Thank you. But you don't know me. Maybe I'm a real, you know, the 'B-word'."

"Beauty?" I remarked with a smile.

"Thank you, again, but that wasn't the word I was referencing."

"Well, I'm a fairly good judge of people, and I'm pretty sure you're not the other."

After we finished eating, I got us moving, "Best bundle up. It's going to be chilly at your aunt's."

When we headed outside, it had begun to snow and was coming down fairly steadily. I hustled us to the truck and we got in. I started it up, then sat for a second watching the snow.

"Emma, it's not wise to head up with it snowing like this. It'll be heavier up the mountain, and visibility will be poor. Actually, probably a good thing we stopped to eat. If we'd headed up there when we were going to, we might have regretted it."

"Isn't your truck a four-wheel drive?"

"Yes, but on those narrow roads, in the dark with it snowing, visibility is a problem; it's easy to end up in a ditch. So, it would be advisable to wait until daylight."

"Okay, I see. Then I guess I have to wait until tomorrow. I'll need to get a hotel room. Where's the nearest one?"

"Missoula, which is a ways, and you might be okay; but in the dark, with it snowing, I'd rather you wouldn't. Plus, you'd have the drive back, tomorrow; and depending on how much it snows, you might have difficulty getting back up here. You can stay at my place, but we'll want to get going. I'm not as high up, but I haven't checked to see how bad this is going to get."

She hesitated, "Um, well, that's a nice offer..."

"Oh, I understand, Emma. I didn't think about it - a woman in a strange place with a man who is a stranger. But I am trustworthy. Tell you what, I'll ask Nell. I'm sure she would put you up if you'd rather," I offered as I opened my door, "I'll be right back."

She grabbed my arm, "No, no, that's fine. I apologize. I'm just used to the city and not trusting any...Look, I can tell you're trustworthy. It was kind of you to offer, and if it's no trouble, that would be awfully nice."

"Not at all," I replied as I pull the door closed, "Besides, Nell might have driven you crazy, 'flapping her jaws', as she put it."

"Well, I might drive 'you' crazy," she smiled.

"I don't see how, unless you snore. I only have the one bed."

Her eyes got big.

"Just kidding. I have four bedrooms. You can have your pick, well except for mine," I grinned.

She playfully smacked my arm, "You got me."

"Well, we better get moving. Do you need anything from your car?"

"Yes, my suitcase."

"We'll pick it up on the way."

II. ADRIFT

We headed to my house, and when we arrived, Emma was surprised, "Oh, this is beautiful."

"Thank you. I designed the house years ago for a property outside Boise. I just had to modify the plans a little for this property. I moved the decks so they took advantage of the views of the stream and the vista to the south."

"I love A-frame houses."

"Yes, Maggie did too. Come on, let's get you inside. I left the heat on low, but I'll turn it up and get a fire going."

We headed in and I took Emma to one of the guest rooms upstairs to get settled.

"You can join me in the living room after you get organized. The bathroom is en suite, and if you didn't bring something, you should find what you need in there."

"Thank you, Angus. And this is absolutely lovely, quite impressive, but at the same time, very homey."

"Thank you. I'll get the fire going. Would you like something to drink. I have coffee, tea - hot or cold, hot cocoa, or some white or red wine, and a couple different beers."

"A hot cocoa sounds like the ticket."

"Well, make yourself at home; I'll get the hot cocoa going."

When Emma came down, I noticed she had changed into a robe.

"I hope you don't mind. I was in those clothes since five this morning."

"Not at all. I hope you like the cocoa; and I have whipped cream if you would like?"

She grinned, "What would hot cocoa be without whipped cream to top it off?"

"I agree. I'll bring the can."

"Oh, and I hate to ask, but you wouldn't happen to have any slippers I could wear?"

"I think so. I still have all of Maggie's stuff, and she had some of those fur-lined slippers. Give me a second." I found the slippers and brought them down.

"I hope these fit. For a tall gal, Maggie had smallish feet."

"They fit perfectly. Thank you."

We sat by the fire and got to know each other. I found myself a bit surprised at how easy it was to talk to her, and to look at her, too. Honestly, I hadn't been interested in looking at a woman since...well, you know; though, there aren't too many eligible women to look at around Heckler's Corner, at least any without false teeth. And when I get to Missoula, I don't go out of my way to check out the ladies. But now, I found myself 'checking out' Emma.

"Angus?"

"I'm sorry. What were you saying. Guess I was gathering wool."

"You were looking at me strangely. Is there something about me..."

"No, not at all. I'm kind of embarrassed. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable, but, honestly, I haven't been around a pretty woman in quite a while, much less carried on a conversation with one. So, you'll have to excuse me..."

"No, I'm fine. Don't worry about it...And thank you for calling me pretty. That's the second time you complimented me."

I chuckled, "I'm not a masher, it's just I don't see a lot of pretty women here. Nell's about the youngest, single gal around here, and I think she's in her late 50's, but she was starting to look pretty good."

She laughed, "You need to get out more. Anyway, I was asking about your name."

"Angus? I'm named after my dad's great, great grandfather, who was the first of our family to come to this country from Scotland. I could have been named after my great, great, great grandfather - Tavish."

"Oh my," she laughed, "No, I like 'Angus'. I was just curious. It's not the usual John, Paul, Bob...If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a more personal question."

"Shoot."

"You indicated there are no 'eligible' ladies in the area, but what about Missoula, or aren't you interested?"

"Yeah, I haven't really been looking. I haven't been doing much on the social scene, these days. Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not a hermit. I'm pretty active in the local community. I keep busy, but not so much, socially. My friends all think I'm still mourning my wife..."

"Aren't you?"

"Not in that way. I miss her terribly, but I've come to terms with her passing. I just can't seem to move on. My life has stalled. I feel adrift, and I guess I'm waiting to reach a safe haven at some point, I just don't know where it is or how to get there."

"And you haven't been trying very hard, have you?"