Down the Hidden Path Page 15

  “Sorry I didn’t burn them the way you like.”

  She placed her fork on her plate. “You know, there are things I can cook.”

  David grew somber. “She’s right. I’m just giving her a hard time. Gray’s a great cook. She can do salad, fruit, cereal, granola bars.”

  Caleb made a gagging sound. “That’s not food.”

  Gray tucked her hair behind her ear. “I can cook.”

  Miah’s gaze landed on her. His fork dangled between his hands where he’d propped his elbows on the table. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you can prove it tonight. I’m grilling steaks. You can make the sides.”

  David frowned. “Steaks? Outside? There’s like five inches of snow.”

  Miah’s wide shoulder tipped up. “So?”

  “Whatever.” David took a bite of his pancakes.

  “You want to go play in the snow after breakfast?”

  David nodded.

  And Gray had to smile because he and Miah were finding some common ground. Only one problem; it was becoming more and more clear, there’d be little room for her.

  She’d offered to clean up since the men had done the cooking. After the kitchen was back in order, she went upstairs, changed into warmer clothes and her heavy coat, and stepped outside. Miah had already cleared the back porch and the telltale signs of snow play marred the yard. “Where are they?” she asked Caleb as he came around the side of the house.

  “Taking the snowmobile out.”

  She didn’t know Miah had a snowmobile. And she wasn’t sure David should be out on one anyway. Then, she remembered. He was with his father. Still, she would have liked the opportunity to offer her opinion.

  Caleb pulled a lawn chair from the edge of the house and sat it beside her, then got another one for himself. “They’ll be fine. You know Miah and I grew up on those things.”

  Yes, when Missouri was gracious enough to offer snow. Some years there just wasn’t any and some years, there was more than the road crews could handle. “Do they clear your road?”

  “Who? MoDOT? They do the road, but not the driveway. Miah’s got a small tractor with a shovel on the front. He’ll get to it eventually. Until then, you’re stuck with us.” And Caleb flashed one of those electrifying smiles. She needed to establish some boundaries with him.

  “Since I’m here, we can get back to your therapy if you’d like.”

  He scowled. “Nah. I’m enjoying the time off. Just be here, Gray. Stop feeling like you have to work or babysit everyone.”

  He didn’t understand. “I don’t want you backsliding. We’ve made good progress. Are you keeping up with your exercises?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” That wasn’t an answer, but it placed a bit of much-needed space between them.

  She looked out over the yard and realized something was missing. “Where’s the snowman? I thought they were going to build a snowman.”

  “Started it. Had a fairly good-size body until I wrecked it.”

  She shot an angry look at him.

  He scoffed. “Lighten up, Gray. David’s a kid. It ended in a massive snowball fight and I lost. Face-planted in the snow with David standing on me, so stop acting like he’s this frail little porcelain doll.”

  It was hard to know the boundaries of protecting someone and smother-mothering them. She caught her hair in the wind. “Face-planted, huh?”

  “Yeah. You’d think they’d be more careful with a cripple, but nope.”

  “Two against one? That’s hardly fair.” But she had to bite her cheeks to keep from laughing.

  “I asked for it.”

  “Did you learn your lesson?”

  He raised his hands. “Do I ever?”

  Gray stood. “I think I hear them coming back.” She walked to the edge of the porch where she could see the long, winding trail through the trees and deep into the forest. Her eyes were adjusting to the shimmering glare of the sun on the snow when down at the far left edge of the property, the snowmobile came into view with a beaming David on the back and Miah hitting the freshly plowed snow with vigor.

  David waved as they sailed right on past, headed toward the lake.

  A hand pressed to her heart. How could anyone have such a rush of competing emotions? First, there was joy at the genuine smile on David’s face, especially since he’d walked the earth like a corpse since the funeral, where he’d stood at their graves in a suit that he would soon outgrow. Right along with the elation of seeing him happy now was the very real and tangible fear at seeing him on the snowmobile. When had she turned into such a fuddy-duddy? That’s what her grandmother called people who never took risks. Then again, Gray knew. She’d entered full fuddy-duddy status when she learned there was a child growing in her belly.

  Miah had taken her out on snowmobiles plenty of times when they were in high school. It was good, clean fun. And David seemed to be loving it. This was a brave new world for him and she’d have to get used to it. Plain and simple. David was staying with a soldier now. A man who spent the biggest part of his life carrying an automatic weapon and dodging gunfire.

  She’d be a good balancer. But she’d also have to let David experience the life she denied him. It was only fair.

  David’s eyes were sparkling like melted gold; his cheeks were bright red apples. Miah had stopped the snowmobile to show him one of his favorite winter things. He hooked an arm around David’s shoulder and pointed across the lake. “Look at those icicles.” They were at least ten feet long and latched to a rock embankment that overhung the lake.

  “Those are cool.”

  “Yeah.” Miah slipped off the snowmobile, but David stayed on, resting his gloved hands on the handlebars. Miah gave him a smile. “My friends and I used to come down here and watch as they melted. Sometimes one would drop into the water. It was awesome.”

  “You grew up at the lodge?”

  Miah dusted the snow from David’s shoulders. “No. Had a friend who lived down there.” He pointed to a trail running along the lake. “I’d stay with him whenever we thought there’d be a snow day. Some of my other friends would meet up with us.”

  David chewed the inside of his cheek. “I don’t really have a lot of friends at school.”

  “No?”

  David shook his head. “They’re all so immature.”

  Miah threw his head back and laughed. “Is that so?”

  David shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “The key to having a friend is being there for him when he needs you most. Know who taught me that?”

  David shook his head.

  “Your mom.”

  David frowned. “You knew Angela?”

  “I meant Gray.”

  “Oh. She’s my birth mom.”

  Miah didn’t really see the need for the distinction, but okay. “Your birth mom taught me that.”

  David chewed his cheek. “But she said she didn’t really have many friends growing up.”

  “Let me tell you something about your birth mom, David. She was the best friend I ever had. She was with me during some of the hardest times of my life. She may not have had a lot of friends, but the ones she had, she was fiercely devoted to.”

  He watched as David gnawed on that for a while. “Like she’s devoted to me?”

  Miah winked. “Exactly. You want to drive home?”

  His eyes turned to saucers. “Seriously?”

  “Sure.”

  A smile curved his face. “Okay.”

  Miah gave him a quick lesson.

  David tugged his stocking hat over his ears. “What’s down that way?”

  “We used to call that the Hidden Path. If you follow it along the lake, you’ll pass a log cabin and if you keep going, there’s a cove. At the edge of the cove is a small graveyard from I don’t know how f
ar back. We always joked that it was haunted.”

  “Cool. Can we go there?”

  Miah pointed at him. “You’re driving.”

  He knew David was still mustering his courage to take the wheel, so he launched into another story. “One winter we had a really hard freeze and a deep snow. My friends and I were all out on the snowmobiles and we’d missed like two weeks of school. One of them got the bright idea to try to take the snowmobile across the cove.”

  “Did he sink it?”

  “No. He floored it and went straight across. Then, he decided that if the rest of us were real men, we’d follow him. Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “Did you fall in?”

  “Nope. The water is shallow there, twenty feet, maybe. It was frozen solid. But that was a really dumb thing for us to do. Of course, it made us feel like men. Like we’d conquered the elements or something.”

  “So, who’s in the graveyard?”

  Miah turned to look down the path. “I don’t know. There are only eight stones. Some of them are hard to read.”

  David grinned. “Haunted, huh?”

  Miah shrugged. “So we thought. Once we were standing in the center making up stories about who was buried there and a tree branch fell right behind us.”

  David laughed. “What did you do?”

  “Went running and screaming like little girls.”

  “That’s really funny, Jeremiah.”

  Miah rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. It is. Keep it to yourself.”

  “No promises.” David wrapped his fingers around the handlebars. “Ready?”

  “Let’s ride.”

  It seemed like they were gone forever when Gray finally saw them coming back down the trail toward the lodge. Her nose was starting to run and her hands tingled, frozen Popsicles at the ends of her arms. As the gleaming tan snowmobile angled toward her, Gray’s heart caught in her throat. David was driving.

  She opened her mouth to yell for him to slow down, that he was going too fast. She quickly judged the distance between the snowmobile and the edge of the house. Too fast. Way too fast. They bounced and jostled as they drew near and the smile she’d seen on David’s face was now turning into horror. His eyes were fitted on the woodpile they were getting closer and closer to.

  Jeremiah’s voice caught up to her first. He was telling David to slow down. He repeated it twice, but David was as frozen as Gray’s heart. Miah reached around him and grabbed the handlebars, but it was too late. There was no time to slow. Miah jerked the handlebars, but the snowmobile kept barreling forward. Cold fear shot down Gray’s spine, leaving her too weak to scream.

  Miah grabbed David around the middle, shielding him as much as possible, and bailed off the snowmobile. They rolled and came to a stop, covered in white and both breathing hard as the snowmobile made contact with the corner of the woodpile.

  Gray knew she’d screamed David’s name because she’d heard it, heard the terror in her own voice and was running to them before they stopped rolling.

  She dove into the snow and found a down coat. She grabbed David’s shoulders, pulling him to a seated position. He coughed out a bit of snow. The two guys were a tangled mess of arms and legs, but Gray’s hands roamed freely, feeling for breaks as she went along.

  David’s hand clamped on to hers. “I’m fine. Gray! I’m okay.” A gloved hand shoved her away.

  Her fingers tightened on David’s shoulders just as Jeremiah was untangling his long legs.

  “Sure you’re all right?” he said, dusting snow from both of them. He didn’t even sound upset.

  Gray’s worry quickly morphed into fury. She turned to Miah. “What in the world were you thinking?”

  Miah didn’t seem to have an answer, but his face tensed as he looked over his shoulder to find the snowmobile crashed against the woodpile.

  Seeing it there, Gray realized just how close this was to a serious accident. She’d already learned how quickly an accident could turn into a tragedy. Fire shot into the pit of her stomach. “This isn’t the army, Jeremiah. He isn’t one of your new recruits. He’s a child. Barely twelve years old.”

  She pulled David up from the snow so that he stood beside her. When his hand went to his head to remove his stocking hat, she saw the blood. “Oh no.” Gray gripped the sides of his face as he tugged the hat from his head. The blood had smeared, but she could see the inch-long cut above his brow.

  “Come on, let’s get him inside.” Miah took David by the arm.

  David’s hand went to his head. He turned a little pale when he looked down to find his glove smeared with blood. “Did I ruin your snowmobile?”

  Miah barely gave it a glance. “Nah. Just clipped the edge. She’s had worse.”

  “I’m never driving it again,” David mumbled as the three of them made their way to the back door.

  Miah stopped and tilted David’s chin to get a better look at the cut. “Sure you are. You gotta get back on the horse, kid. Maybe just don’t open the throttle quite so much next time.”

  Next time? Gray gave him a cold glare. If Miah actually thought there was going to be a next time, he was delusional.

  As soon as the roads were clear and she could dig her car out, she was going back to Mr. Granger’s office to see what she could do about this whole thing. Miah wasn’t ready for this kind of responsibility. And since he wasn’t, that put David in danger here.

  Miah still stood at the door, his fingers cupped around David’s chin. She wanted to hurry him along, but something made her stop. Jeremiah’s face softened as he looked into the eyes of his child. “Don’t be afraid of the snowmobile, okay, David?”

  Gray’s eyes closed because she didn’t want to see this. Didn’t need to see this. It was a father instructing his son. It was a soldier giving advice to someone younger and with less experience. And under different circumstances, she could appreciate the gesture.

  Miah used his hand to swipe away the remaining trickle of blood that had started to congeal. “In fact, don’t be afraid of anything.”

  Oh good grief.

  Just as they were stepping inside, none of them bothering to knock the snow from their feet, Caleb met them at the door. He took one look at David, then Miah, then angled to look out back. “Are you kidding me? You wrecked the snowmobile?”

  “Shut up, Caleb,” Miah said as he shoved past him.

  “Just great. Way to go, kid.” Caleb slammed the back door. “And they’re calling for more snow.”

  Gray sat on the corner of Jeremiah’s bed. If more snow was in the forecast, she needed to reach out to Mr. Granger by phone. She cradled her cell and hoped the heating duct didn’t carry her voice. She dialed his number and when he answered, she launched into an explanation of the situation.

  For a few moments, Granger was silent. “Mary Grace, I know this has to be difficult for you.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut at the condescension in his tone. “This isn’t about me, Wilson. It’s about David’s safety.”

  Was that a chuckle on the other end of the phone line? “So, you’re telling me father and son were out on a snowmobile and he got a bump on his head?”

  Bile rose in her throat. “He could have died.” Why was no one understanding this? Bill and Angie had died just driving home from the airport. Was it really necessary for her to explain the parallels? Did no one get it? Life was precious. And fleeting. And where David was concerned, she wasn’t interested in taking risks.

  “You’re being a bit dramatic, dear. I’d say that Miah’s interest in the boy shows his determination to become a good father, a good role model. Already they’re bonding. I think you should see this as a positive thing.”

  “A positive thing?”

  “Yes. Jeremiah is obviously trying to bond with his son.” There was a long pause. “Mary Grace, kids get hurt. It’s a n
atural part of life. Now if you’d told me Jeremiah had been drinking or there were . . . I don’t know . . . drugs involved, that’d be a different story. But right now all you’re telling me is David got hurt doing something any normal, red-blooded American boy might be doing.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Are you telling me I’m just supposed to stand by and watch as Jeremiah uses trial and error to figure out how to be a father—with David and his safety hanging in the balance?”

  Granger sighed. “I’m pretty certain that’s what all mothers have to do.”

  She hung up the phone, swiped the angry tears, and barely noticed the light tap on her door. “Come in.” When her voice cracked on the last word, she pooled her strength and painted on a smile.

  David opened the door, but didn’t enter. “I bled through the other Band-Aid, so Jeremiah put this one on.” His voice was weak, and she was fairly certain the day’s events had taken what little spark she’d seen earlier and turned it into a wasteland. David fingered the wound. “He called it a butterfly bandage. He’s good at doing these.”

  “Years in the military and helping raise three younger brothers.” Gray motioned for him to come in. She took his hand and pulled him onto the bed with her. “You doin’ okay?”

  “I want to go home.” His fingers twisted on the down comforter.

  Gray’s heart broke. “I know, sweetie.”

  He pulled a deep breath and let it hiss through his lips. His cheeks were still rosy from the cold outside, maybe even a little windburned. He dropped his head on Gray’s shoulder. “But I don’t have a home anymore, do I?”

  She tucked him beneath her arm. “You’ve always got a home with me.”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled. And it sounded like such a hopeless sound, it made Gray tighten her grip on him a little more. “I’m never riding a snowmobile again.”

  “Well, that’s good because, honestly, I don’t think my heart could take it.”

  “Is he going to make me?” He tilted out to look at her and Gray saw the little boy he still was.