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Scared, ashamed, embarrassed, worried—those emotions didn’t begin to cover her wildly swinging feelings. But they weren’t all negative. Wonder, amazement, a secret inner—was joy the right word to describe how amazed she was by the thought of becoming a mom?
Unable to make sense of her topsy-turvy reactions and still unsure of how she was going to support herself and her child, Victoria’s thoughts veered to the immediate problem. What to do about the aunts. Moving Tillie and Margaret from The Haven, the home where they’d lived since retiring from the mission field twenty-five years ago, away from the friends they cherished and the land they adored—it was unthinkable. But how could they stay?
Lost in thought, Victoria finally roused to the dogs’ frenzied barking. When they didn’t return despite repeated calls, she knew something was wrong. She stopped to listen, trying to pinpoint their yelps through the whistling wind.
Over there. She climbed a steep hill, reached the summit, gazed around her and then caught her breath. The dogs stood guard beside—a child?
While she descended the hill, Victoria tried to fathom out the situation. She saw no adult, no vehicle, nothing to indicate where the child had come from. When she got closer, she realized the child was a young boy, and he was crying.
“Hello,” she asked, squatting beside him. “I’m Victoria. Are you hurt?”
“Those dogs bited me,” he sobbed and held up his arm to show her a tiny tear in the fabric of his snowsuit. “They won’t let me help Unca Ben.”
Victoria rose, searched the snowy scape before her but saw nothing.
“Where is Uncle Ben, sweetie?” she asked, trying to conceal her concern.
“Over there. He got hurted.” The child pointed to the roadside but still Victoria saw only mounds of snow.
“What’s your name?”
“Mikey,” he sniffed and rubbed one mitten over his tear-covered cheek. “Those bad dogs won’t let me help Unca Ben. They bited me,” he repeated angrily.
“They were only trying to keep you safe. Spot and Dot won’t hurt you.” He clearly didn’t believe her so Victoria sought to ease his fear by grasping his hand. “We want to help you and Uncle Ben, but I can’t see him. Can you show me where he is?”
Mikey glared at the dogs so she gave a command. Immediately they sat and waited. Mikey studied them suspiciously for several more moments.
“Okay.” He finally relented as he looked at her. “But after we help Unca Ben, can I have a drink? I’m thirsty.”
“Sure you can, sweetie.” She patted his hand. “So, where’s your uncle?”
“Down there.” He walked a few steps before pointing downward.
Victoria had to peer through the gloom and whirling snow for several moments before she finally spotted the barely discernible fender of a white car that had clearly slipped off the road, down the embankment and into the forest. Its hood was crushed against a massive pine tree which also pinned the driver’s door closed.
“Good man, Mikey.” There was no signal on her phone. Frowning, Victoria spied a sheltered indentation in the rock face and led the boy there, figuring that since he was dressed warmly, he’d be okay for a bit. “You stay here, out of the wind. Don’t try to follow me,” she ordered firmly. “I’ll go talk to Uncle Ben then come back.”
Mikey frowned. “He’s sleepin’ an’ he won’t wake up.”
Unconscious? Victoria’s heart sank but praying was a habit she developed long ago. Lord? Even after what I’ve done, are You still with me?
“I’ll check on him but you still have to stay here, Mikey.”
“But what if a dinosaur comes? Or a crocodile?” he asked in a scared voice. “Or a bear?” He was so cute.
“Bears sleep in wintertime, honey. And crocodiles and dinosaurs don’t live anywhere near these mountains,” she promised. “Anyway, Spot and Dot won’t let any animals get near you.”
“Sure?” Mikey frowned when she nodded. “I don’t like those biting dogs.” He glared at them as he rubbed his arm.
“They didn’t bite you, honey. They just grabbed on to your coat, to keep you safe. They’re your friends, just like me. Understand?”
Mikey did not look convinced but finally, he nodded.
“I promise I’ll hurry as fast as I can.” After reassuring him again, Victoria slipped and slid her way down the embankment. Every so often, she called encouragements to Mikey and reminded him to stay put. She’d call for help as soon as she’d assessed the situation, after she checked on Uncle Ben. But she’d have to climb higher because there was no cell phone signal down here, either.
The car’s rear passenger door hung open. Probably how Mikey escaped. After ensuring that the vehicle was firmly wedged and would not move, Victoria swept away the snow and peered inside. A very good-looking man, in a military haircut that emphasized his strong jaw, lay sprawled in the driver’s seat with the airbag deployed around him. A bleeding gash marred his forehead, probably where he’d bashed into the cracked side window. He wore a dark fleece sweatshirt and jeans. His unzipped blue jacket looked new. She yanked open the front passenger door.
“Sir?” He didn’t answer. Glad of the first-aid courses her employers had insisted she complete, Victoria quickly checked his vitals. All good. “Uncle Ben?”
He groaned, shifted slightly. Thick brown lashes lifted slowly until big blue eyes met hers.
“Hello.” The slurred words were accompanied by a faint smile.
“I’m Victoria Archer. You went off the road. Do you remember?”
“No. Yes.” He shook his head, winced and then whispered frantically, “Mikey! Where’s Mikey?”
“He’s safe. My dogs are guarding him.”
“Mikey hates dogs.” Ben licked his lips. “A year ago, one bit him.”
“That explains it.” At his questioning look, she shook her head. “Never mind. Other than the cut on your forehead, are you okay?”
“Lemme check.” Ben closed his eyes as he completed a series of movements. Then he looked at her, his face grim as he listed his injuries. “Left arm’s bruised but not broken. Ankle’s wrenched. My ribs are probably going to bruise and my head hurts where I hit it. And my door’s stuck.”
“It’s jammed against the tree. You’ll have to get out on this side.” She studied the situation. “Can you move?”
“Barely, but so what?” he asked gruffly. “You’re too small to help me.”
Too small. Fire sprang to life inside Victoria. She’d heard that all her life and she still hated it. As if her brainpower depended on her height.
“I’m strong, I’m smart and I can help you,” she said, ignoring an inner flutter of appreciation for his blue eyes. “If you can get out.”
“I’ve got a good sixty pounds on you,” Ben grumbled, easing off his seat belt. “Even if I do get out, you can’t support me, and I doubt I can walk, especially uphill.”
“First let’s see what we’re dealing with,” she said, reining in her temper. “Then I’ll phone Jake, our hired hand, for help.”
“Why not call a tow truck?” Ben clenched his jaw as he eased his body across the seat.
“Wouldn’t do any good.” Victoria tried to move his injured foot but knew from his sudden indrawn breath that it was less painful for him to do it himself. “In a storm like this, the Alberta Ministry of Transportation concentrates on ensuring the main roads in and out of Jasper and our nearest town, Chokecherry Hollow, are navigable. The Haven is always last on their plow-out list because we’re the only ones who live along this road. Doesn’t matter though because Jake usually has us plowed out long before they arrive. But that won’t be for a while. It’s coming down pretty heavily now.”
“Huh.” Ben was almost free when she suddenly realized there was no place except a snowbank for him to sit.
“Wait. Feeling okay?”
“Peachy,” he shot back in a grumpy tone.
“Good.” She grinned at his dour glance. “Stay here, on this passenger seat. Close the door to keep warm. Rest for a few minutes while I go call Jake and check on Mikey.”
“Good idea.” Ben grunted his assent, his tanned face strained. “Kid’s probably starving. It’s a while since we ate.”
“Not a problem.” She closed the car door. So where did Uncle Ben get a tan like that, at this time of year, in Canada? He sure didn’t get his tan from a bottle like Aunt Tillie did because Uncle Ben’s skin was too evenly darkened, the deep color almost burned in. Maybe he was a skier?
Victoria told herself to forget her building questions about the guy as she climbed vertically, grasping twigs and rocks to help in her ascent. Mikey was where she’d left him, still glaring at the dogs.
“I found Uncle Ben,” she said, puffing a little. “He’s got a sore arm and leg. I need to phone someone to come help us.”
“’Cause Unca Ben’s really big,” Mikey agreed, brown eyes huge.
“He sure is.” She chuckled. “Are you warm enough?”
“Uh-huh. ’Fore we comed here, Unca Ben buyed me this coat and snow pants. They gots feathers in ’em.”
“Like the birds, huh? Only you don’t fly.” Mikey looked confused by her silliness. “Good for Uncle Ben.” She fished a granola bar out of her pocket and held it out. “Want to munch on this?” He nodded eagerly, took it and ripped off the paper. “Don’t give any to the dogs,” she warned and then almost laughed at his dubious expression. As if that was likely. “You stay here. I’m going to climb higher.”
“Why?” Mikey asked, his mouth full.
“Because that’s where my phone works. Don’t move. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Victoria’s heart pinched when his lips trembled.
“It’s gettin’ dark,” Mikey whispered. “I don’t like dark. Bad things happen in dark.”
What was that about?
“Good thing I brought my flashlight.” Victoria showed the boy how to turn on her tiny pocket light and got his agreement to remain. Then she began her ascent.
Years of living in the Canadian Rockies and hours spent rock-wall climbing at a city gym meant Victoria had no difficulty scaling to the top. It took several moments to get a signal, but Jake was quick to answer and promised to help after he’d notified her family to prepare for guests.
“Bring the usual rescue gear,” Victoria suggested. “Add a toboggan and some extra ropes, too. I doubt he can walk very far. We’ll have to pull him up. I’ll leave my scarf on a tree as a marker.”
“He must be the guy your aunts expect,” Jake said.
“Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing about a visitor arriving. But I didn’t pay much attention.” Because morning sickness was hitting her hard these days.
Assured Jake was coming, Victoria ended the call, attached her scarf to the bough of a needleless tamarack tree and then half slid, half climbed back down to Mikey. “Still warm enough?”
“Yeah. But I’m thirsty.” He looked around. “Can I eat the snow?”
“No!” Realizing she’d scared him, Victoria made a funny face. But she had to ensure he wouldn’t try it because eating snow would lower his body temperature. “This snow isn’t clean, Mikey. My friend will bring you something warm to drink.”
“Hot choc’lat?” he asked hopefully.
“Maybe.” She crouched down to peer into his eyes. “Can you stay here a little longer while I check if Uncle Ben needs anything?”
Clearly thrilled by the promise of a drink, Mikey flicked on the flashlight and nodded. Victoria navigated down the cliff face again, grimacing at the protest in her calves.
“You’re not as fit as you think, girl,” she muttered in disgust.
“Yes, you are.” Ben held the car door open. His blue eyes surveyed her with—admiration? “If I’d climbed up and down that steep slope as many times as you, my knees would be rubber.”
“With your military training? I doubt it.” Victoria smiled at the surprise filling his face and thrust out a hand. “Pleased to meet you. Major Adams, I presume?”
“You know me?” Ben asked. She liked his firm grip. Many men shook her hand as if they were holding a wet fish.
“The aunts mentioned that one of their military correspondents, a major, was coming to visit, but I doubt they expected you or Mikey during this storm.” The roar of a snowmobile engine cut through the whine of wind. “That’ll be Jake.” She turned away. “I’ll be back.”
“Victoria?”
“Yes?” She glanced back at Ben.
“Is Mikey okay?” A tenderness lay behind the words. Ben got high marks from her for worrying about his nephew.
“He’s got the dogs locked in a death stare. He ate a granola bar and he’s thirsty. Other than that, he’s doing fine.” She took another step before adding, “You’re fortunate this storm didn’t arrive with some really frigid weather, Major.”
Through the crackle of bushes and the approaching snowmobile, she thought she heard him mutter, “Fortunate? Me? Yeah, sure I am.”
A sigh followed, making her wonder exactly what Ben meant.
* * *
“Dear Major, are you sure you’re all right? Shouldn’t you be in bed, resting?”
Though his arm throbbed something fierce, his midsection smarted and his ankle stung, Ben forced a smile at the elderly woman.
“I’m fine, Miss Spenser. Er, Tillie,” he quickly corrected, using the name she’d requested. “I’m sorry to be a bother.”
“We’re delighted to have you and Mikey visit The Haven.” Margaret Spenser was a doppelgänger for her twin sister in everything but demeanor. Where Tillie reminded Ben of a graceful Southern belle, Margaret bustled to fulfill some unspoken agenda. “God has certainly supplied your medical needs. Victoria’s bandages look most effective.”
“Yes, they are.” He glanced from the sling holding his arm to his chest to the petite beauty sitting across from him. A straight fall of almost-black hair lovingly cupped Victoria’s sculpted ivory face as she sat in a wingback chair with Mikey cuddled beside her. At the moment, she was studying him with her inscrutable gray eyes. Ben looked back at Margaret. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“You are more than welcome, dear. It’s a good thing you knew how to get our computer to scoop so Victoria could contact the doctor,” Tillie said.
“Skype,” he corrected, quickly realizing this lady neither knew nor cared about computers.
“Yes, it’s called Skype, sister. Anyway, it’s too bad we can’t get you into Chokecherry Hollow, Ben. But at least Doc was able, with Victoria’s help, to ascertain that your injuries aren’t severe. Now, please excuse us while we go assist the other girls with dinner. Mikey, come and help us.” Margaret lifted a hand when Victoria shifted as if to rise. “You stay here and entertain our guest, dear.”
Ben didn’t understand Victoria’s frown nor the odd way she studied her aunts’ retreating figures, Mikey between them. “Is something the matter?” he asked politely.
“I’m not sure.” Victoria refocused on him. “But they have that look.”
“What look?” Confused, Ben tried to recall something in the ladies’ manner. “I didn’t—”
“No, you wouldn’t have.” She gave him a strangled smile. “What brings you to The Haven, Ben?”
“Um,” he blinked at the sudden switch in conversation. But there was no point in prevaricating. “I’m a peacekeeper with the United Nations in Central Africa. I became part of The Spenser sisters’ campaign to write to soldiers when Tillie’s first letter arrived about seven months ago. In every letter since, she invited me to The Haven. So I came. I’m hoping she can give me some advice. About Mikey.”
“What kind of advice, if you don’t mind me asking?” Victoria leaned forward in her chair, gray eyes widening with curiosity. She had the lush, long lashes his sister-in-law, Alice, had craved.
Alice and Neil. Gone. Ben’s stomach clenched as grief billowed inside him. Only through sheer force of habit honed by peacekeeping could he maintain an implacable expression.
