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Authors: Judith Michael

Tags: #Reporters and reporting, #Love stories

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BOOK: A ruling passion : a novel
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In that moment, Valerie became terrified. Wi^re£[oin0 to die here.

Carlton groaned. Betsy was crying.

I can't think about dyin£f; I don't have time. She took a disinfectant-soaked cloth from the first-aid kit and cleaned Carlton's face, and the skin around the ugly wound in his head. It was still bleeding and she wrapped it tighdy with gauze. The bandage would not lie properly and she looked at Betsy. "I don't know anything about this. Do you?"

"No." Betsy was suddenly subdued; her voice shook. "We always hired nurses or..."

The story of my life, Valerie thought. When I needed something, I bought it. In a lifetime of luxury, she had never learned first aid. She kept wrapping the gauze, desperate to stop the bleeding, and soon the crimson spot that had soaked through the first layers was no longer visible. Still, Valerie kept winding. How thick should a bandage be? Thick enough to make me feel good, she thought, and a small wild laugh trembled on her lips. She pressed them together. "Alex, we've got to look for Lily Grace."

"I should have broken a leg," he said ruefully.

"Betsy, I brought paper for a fire. You get us some firewood."

"I won't. My leg won't move and my head hurts. I can't do anything."

"You can crawl. Pull dead twigs and branches off the trees; they're all around. We'll use whatever you get."

"We need more than paper," Alex said. "We need kindling. Whatever Betsy finds will be wet."

"Dead branches," Valerie said. "And if they're not enough.. ."She picked up some of the clothes scattered about. 'We'll bum blouses and shirts. Keep the sweaters and socks and jackets; we can wear layers to keep warm."

'We won't be here that long!" Betsy cried. "Someone will come!"

Valerie's terror returned, making her breathless. 'We have to

look..." She struggled through her terror to form words. ". for Lily..."

Alex led the way into the forest. "Look for footprints," he said. "We won't be here long, you know. Anyone flying overhead will see the plane burning."

"I hope so. How many people fly over the Adirondacks on a Monday in January?"

"God knows. Did Carl file a flight plan?"

"I don't know. He usually doesn't when we fly back during the day It's less than three hours to Middleburg..." Her voice trailed away It used to he less than three hours; now ifs forever.

"Val?" Alex was looking worriedly at her.

"I'm sorry."

They walked in the gray light that filtered through the trees. "Lily'" Alex caUed. "Lily! Lily!"

Aflier half an hour, exhausted, they turned back, guiding themselves by the burning plane and the small fire burning now beneath the tree. And when they reached the group sitting around it, Lily Grace was there, beside Carlton, her hand on his forehead. "I'm sorry you had so much trouble because of me," she said.

Her voice was high and cool, like a pure stream, and her face was luminous. There was something compelling about her, and the others seemed mesmerized. Betsy was sitting so close she was almost leaning against her. Her eyes, Valerie thought: ecstatic, but somehow sad. My God, she thought immediately, what a ridiculous idea; the cold must be getting to me. No one looks like that. But Lily Grace did, and Valerie knew she had not been fanciful. Pale, with white-blond hair and dark-blue eyes, and young—she could have been fourteen or twenty-four—she sat in that dull winter landscape and seemed untouched by it. As she was untouched by the crash. There was not a mark on Lily Grace.

Valerie remembered that she had been introduced as a minister when she arrived at their vacation house only two days before. "My friend. Reverend Lilith Grace," Sybille had said, introducing her. "She has a television ministry." They had all been amused. Well, who knows? Valerie thought. Maybe she knows something I don't know.

"Val!" Carlton was trying to lifl: his head. "Val!"

"Here," Valerie said. She sat beside Carlton and kissed his cold lips. "I'm here, Carl." Lily seemed to melt away.

"Listen." He opened his eyes, trying to focus them on her. "Couldn't do it." His voice was urgent, but the words were mumbled

and Valerie leaned over him. "Sorry, Val. Mean it: sorry! Never meant to hurt you. Tried to keep it. Now you'll know I— Shit, lost control, lost ...bst it!''

"Carl, don't, don't blame yourself," she said. "You did your best, you were wonderful. You brought us down and we're alive. And you shouldn't talk; you should rest until we can get you out of here."

He went on as if she had not spoken. "Never meant to get you into this. Said I'd... take care of you. Remember? Christ... thought I'd fix it... get started again. Too late. Sorry, Val, sorry, sorry..."

His voice faded, his eyes closed and he began to roll his head slowly from side to side. "Don't know how the hell... Acted like water in the

tanks But—both tanks? Never had any before." A long groan tore

from him. "Didn't check. Too much hurry to take off. Stupid fucking mechanic should've reminded me. Can't trust..." Suddenly his face tightened in a deep frown. His eyes flew open and he raised his head, looking about wildly. "Not my fault! No accident! Listen! Couldn't be... both tanks! Flew up here... fine! Right, Val? Right? Water in both tanks! Fuck it, should have thought she might..."

His head fell back against the tree. "Should have thought of that... sorry." His eyes closed again. His breathing was harsh and slow.

Valerie bent over him and touched his face. "He's so cold," she said. She turned to the others. "Do you know what he was talking about?"

They shook their heads. "I couldn't understand him," Alex said. A spasm of pain crossed his face. "Any painkillers in your handy little kit?"

"Oh, yes, of course. And we'll make you a sling." She opened the first-aid kit and they helped each other, cleaning cuts and scratches, fashioning a sling for Alex's arm, winding Ace bandages around Betsy's hugely swollen leg. Valerie watched her own busy hands, clumsy but getting more skilled with each turn of the bandage, and wondered how she could be doing this. She had no idea. Since the plane crashed, she had not thought about any of it; she moved and planned one step at a time, never asking how she knew what to do next, or how she was able to do it. A new Valerie. What a pity if I die before I £fet to know her.

She sat beside Carlton, watching his resdess sleep, while Alex and Lily Grace kept the fire going, sending sparks shooting to the treetops each time they added more wood. They all helped each other to put on extra clothes. They waited for a plane to fly overhead. The hours passed.

By afternoon, with the sun lower in the sky, the air grew colder.

Carlton's breathing was raspy, and so slow Valerie found herself holding her own breath, waiting for him to take another one. She looked at the others, sitting in a kind of stupor, except for Lily Grace, who was deep in some sort of meditation. "I'm going for help," Valerie said. She heard herself say it without surprise, though she had not planned it. "Carl will die if we don't get him to a hospital. There's a road not too far from here; I saw it when we were coming down; it shouldn't take me long to find someone."

Betsy Tarrant stared at her. "You'll get lost! Or freeze to death!"

Valerie looked at Alex. "Can you think of anything else?"

"It's only three-thirty; someone could still fly over. And what about search planes? They must be looking for us; we were due in Middle-burg a long time ago."

"If Carl didn't file a flight plan they won't know where to look. They would have if the ELT was working, but they haven't come, so—"

"ELT?" Lily asked, looking up.

"Emergency Locator Transmitter. It's in the plane somewhere—was in the plane—the tail, I think. It sends out some kind of signal that search planes can follow. If it was working, we would have been found."

Valerie touched Carlton's face. His skin was pasty in the firelight. "I don't think anybody's coming to find us and I'm not going to sit here and watch Carl die." She picked through the pile of clothes they had gathered and found an extra pair of ski mittens and fur-lined waterproof boots. She put on three pairs of socks and then the boots. She found her sable hat and put it on, and tied a cashmere scarf around her face, leaving only her eyes exposed. "The newest style," she said lighdy. "Today here, tomorrow in Vo^ue." She paused to steady her voice. She didn't want to leave. The small group around the leaping fire seemed like home and security. Beyond them, the forest was dark and forbidding. She took a long breath. "I'll be back with help as soon as I can. Stay together and wait for me."

As she turned, Lily Grace said quiedy, "God go with you."

"Thank you," Valerie said, thinking she would rather have the Forest Service.

"Good luck!" Alex called.

"Don't get lost!" Betsy shouted. "Don't freeze! Hurry back!" Valerie shook her head in wonder. Betsy never changed. In a way it was comforting to know there was something predictable in that forest.

Within a few minutes, the fire and the smoldering hulk of the plane

were indistinct glows behind her as she walked across the frozen lake, following the path made by the plane. Small clouds scudded across the fading sky; a half moon was rising above nearby hills. I'll have some light, Valerie thought.

She walked across the lake, swinging her arms to keep warm in the icy wind that whistled across the flat expanse, and images darted through her mind, as vivid as paintings against the dark forest. Summer camp when she was little, learning to swim and play tennis and ride; Western dude ranches when she was in her teens, learning to shoot, riding in rodeos and competitions, sneaking out to meet boys after lights out. The counselors at camp had taught her how to use the sun, moon and stars for direction. I should have paid less attention to boys, she thought, and more to the moon and stars.

On the other side of the lake she was in the forest again, out of the wind. But hidden beneath the deep snow were roots and branches and small bushes that wrapped themselves around her like tentacles and held her fast. Sometimes she found a crusted place in the snow and walked on top of it, taking a few long strides, but then the crust broke and she sank in, up to her knees or waist, trying to tread through the snow as if she were swimming.

She was freezing, and exhausted, and her legs were so heavy she could barely lift them to take another step. Then, suddenly, she was too warm, and she stopped walking and began to take off her coat. No, what am I doin0? My God, Fve^one crazy; Fd freeze to death. She pulled the coat tightly around her and went on. She wondered what Betsy would say if she'd frozen; would she be pleased because she'd been proven right or ftirious because Valerie had let her down by dying? She started to laugh, but the sound in the silent forest had a wild ring to it and she cut it off. Walk. Don^t think. Walk north; thafs where the road was. Walk. Walk.

She walked. She tripped and fell into banks of snow, and pushed herself out of them, groaning with the weight of her wet fur coat. And then she walked on, too tired to fight off the unbidden images that drifted in and out of her mind: the warm depths of her French-provincial bed in their warm sprawling mansion in Middleburg; the warm glossy coats of the horses she raised; the warm yielding cushions of the chintz sofa in her dressing room; the warm softness of her Finnish rug beneath her bare feet as she dressed in front of her warm fireplace; the warm ballrooms where she danced, whirling past her friends in silk and lace.

/ should be on the road by now. It couldn^t be this far. Unless I missed it.

She was famished; then, oddly, not hungry at all; then hungry again. She ate snow by the handful and it made her think of meringue on a baked alaska; she heard a bird and thought about roast pheasant; a scattering of pinecones reminded her of truffles, shiitake mushrooms, mounds of caviar, foie gras on toast... Stop it. Just walk. One foot, then the other. Walk.

Daylight was gone; the forest was dark. She walked with her hands held in front of her, navigating from tree to tree. Her feet were numb, her hands were numb, ice coated the inside of her cashmere scarf where her breath had frozen. She leaned against a tree. / have to rest; just for a minute; then ril£fo on. She slid down the trunk, asleep. When she fell over in the snow, she woke with a jerk. No! Get up! Stand up!

But it was so pleasant to stay there, curled up in the warm embrace of the snow. Just for a few minutes. I need it, I need to rest; then Flljind the road... She started up wildly. "The road!" Her voice was high and frail in the silent forest. "I've got to find the road... can't go to sleep. I'll die if I go to sleep. Carl will die. I can't sleep."

She forced herself to stand up, groaning aloud. Her eyes were still closed. "I can't do it," she said aloud. "I can't go any farther. I'll never find the road. It's too far. I'm so tired. I can't do it."

God^o with you.

Good luck.

Please come back.

Don^t£fet lost!

Too late. Sorry, Val, sorry...

She heard their voices rising about her as clearly as if they stood beside her in the dark forest. And suddenly a swift rush of energy swept through her as it had in the plane when she knew she was alive. They all need me. They're all depending on me. No one had ever depended on her: it was a new and powerful feeling. They need me. The energy seeped away, but the knowledge was there: they were depending on her; they were waiting for her. They had no one else. And she walked.

The moon rose higher in the sky; soon it shone into the forest, turning the snow silver, as if it were lit from within. Valerie walked, her breath coming in harsh gasps, her muscles heavy and aching, her eyes burning as she strained to see in the shimmering glow that made the black pine trees seem to dance and shrink and swell until sometimes she was not sure whether she was going forward or back. The walking was harder now, and it took her a while to realize she was going uphill. The road was near a hill. The image flashed in her mind:

the road had been cut between two small hills. Fm almost there. She raised one foot and put it down, then pulled up the other foot and put it down, treading through the snow, fighting to move forward up the rise, against the backward pull of her weight.

BOOK: A ruling passion : a novel
9.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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