

The Trouble with Rescuing Zoe

By Eric Schneider

Copyright 2013 Eric Schneider

Smashwords Edition

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Acknowledgements

I want to thank Cheryl Morris and Jeannie Campbell for their services and attention to detail in helping to bring forth this story, as well as my friends who read and shared their thoughts as it developed: Dan, Carey, Tom, Dave, Christine, Silvia and Margee.

Chapter 1

Carol Smith's kitchen fan had stopped working, so after she flipped the bacon, she cracked the window open. She noticed a taxi moving up the street and scratched her head, unable to remember the last time she'd seen one on the block. Lunch was almost ready.

She wiped clean the knife she had been using and laid it on the countertop. About to step away, she glanced back at the knife. "Okay Harry," she said in the empty room, and turned to put it away. "Things belong in their proper place." I know, she thought, having stated the words she would otherwise have expected from her husband.

While setting herself a plate, she looked out the window again. The taxi had stopped in front and a woman was getting out.

Who would be visiting old Cramer? She wondered. Having slipped herself crossing the street, she hoped the woman could navigate the newly fallen snow. Carol sat down, picking up her church newsletter in one hand, her sandwich in the other. Harry's article led. She smiled as she imagined hearing his passionate voice in each word.

A knock at the door caused her to jump. It was the woman from the cab.

"I have something that I need to talk to you about. It's important. Could I have a minute?"

Carol stood in the doorway and took measure of the stranger: dark hair with a little grey, a long fur coat, matching gloves and elegant earrings; quite out of place in this modest neighborhood. Carol brushed her fingers through her own graying hair.

"If you're here to see my husband, he's at work."

It was apparent in the delay responding that the woman hadn't expected this question. "No, I'm here to see you. You're Carol, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am." Carol paused, still cautious but curious about the stranger. "Well come in, it's cold."

The woman entered. She could have stepped off a page from a fashion magazine—a beautiful full-length blue dress with a necklace, high heels and Carol smelled a delicate perfume.

"I'm Samantha, but you can call me Sam. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt you, but it was imperative that we speak."

Sam handed Carol her coat. For a moment Carol was not sure how to respond, but took a deep breath and invited Sam to join her in the kitchen.

"Are you from here?" Carol knew she wasn't.

"I'm from New York. I got in a few days ago, but it isn't my first trip to Colorado. Though, I will say Grand Junction is a bit out of the way."

The woman sat down. "Smells good."

"Are you hungry? I can easily make another."

"Could you. I would be grateful. I've been running around all morning trying to locate you."

"Me?" Carol put water in the coffee maker and prepared another sandwich.

"Yes."

Out the window, she noticed the taxi was still waiting.

Sam raised her arm, pointing at the taxi. "No worry, I asked him to wait."

The rock on her finger caught some light and its sparkle drew Carol's eye. This is no ordinary woman, she thought.

Sam looked around. "Your kitchen is immaculate."

Carol smiled and sat patiently, but was dying to ask her what she wanted.

"Do you mind if I say grace?" asked Sam.

"Of course not, my Harry is a part-time minister. I'll join you."

"I too lived with a quite religious man," said Sam, nodding her head. She took a bite of her sandwich and cracked a smile. "Sometimes a little too intense though."

Carol laughed. "Yes, this house also has its passion."

"I imagine you are wondering why I'm here. Well, I found something that concerns you." Sam let out a breath and looked away. "It was in the trash."

At that point, the coffeemaker beeped and Carol poured two cups.

"In the trash?"

Sam lowered her eyes and her voice cracked. "Yes, in the trash."

What's she talking about, Carol wondered. But as Sam continued, Carol's face went blank and her jaw dropped. She reached for the coffeepot with a nervous, shake, almost pouring herself a second cup, in one already full.

"I have it here."

Sam opened her purse and placed the "it" on the table. Carol herself had never used one, but she knew what it was.

In all, they talked for an hour. When Sam left, she handed Carol a piece of paper on which a name and phone number were written.

"This is your one chance." Sam then walked out the door.

"Tomorrow morning?" Carol called out as Sam walked to the taxi.

"Yes. 11am."

Carol shut the door and slumped back into her chair.

"What to do?" she said to herself. Starting to pace, she eventually walked into the living room. There she stopped before her husband's prized Browning rifle. She stared at it through the glass case. Then, an idea occurred to her.

A quick call and she booked a flight the next day for her husband, departing in the morning at the time Sam had said. Carol then packed a few essentials, after which she sat and thought. She wrote her own note and placed it, along with the one Sam had given her, in an envelope.

#

Carol heard the door open at the usual time.

"Hi. What's for dinner?"

"First, where's my hug?"

Harry squeezed her, lifting her feet off the floor.

"I had a tough day."

"What happened?"

"They issued me a smart phone. Didn't know how to answer."

"There's no button?"

"You slide your finger across the screen. I hate technology."

"Honey, it's Friday. I have a surprise for you."

Harry smiled.

"You know you've wanted to go to the gun show in Denver. It's this weekend. I booked you a flight."

Harry's face tensed up.

"Used my frequent flyer miles."

He smiled a broad smile. "Really?"

"You leave tomorrow morning. I've already packed."

"You're fantastic."

Carol didn't let on about the visitor. It seemed there was no point in getting wet before you're in the swimming pool.

The following morning, after they ate, Harry disappeared and returned with his gun case.

"You're not thinking of selling it?"

"You know we need the money. We've talked about this. It could fetch a good price. It's a limited edition." Harry couldn't actually look at the gun as he spoke.

Carol, however, looked and let out a sigh.

"Harry, I found you somewhere to stay. Somewhere cheaper than a cheap motel. And they'll pick you up."

"Where?"

"A friend of a friend." Carol handed him the envelope. "Their name and instructions are in here. We gotta go. Just read it when you arrive."

Harry tucked it in the gun case.

Carol drove, so she could just drop him off.

"Now Harry, I need you to keep that fire and brimstone at bay. You know, no one can hear what you're saying when the volume is too loud."

He cringed. "Are you talking about Mark again?"

"Your boy will come back. Just give him time. But I was talking in general. You never know who you'll run into." She pulled up in front of the airport. "People need to hear what you have to say, but please, finesse."

She could see that her lion was about to roar and cut him off with a kiss.

"Don't miss your flight."

Harry waited. He always does. She leaned over for that one last long embrace.

#

Harry clutched his coat against the cold wind as he hefted his Browning in its outsized gun case across the airport tarmac. It would be hard to see her go, but the money she should bring in at the gun show would be worth it.

Harry found Scott Gordon, a commuter pilot and one of Harry's oldest friends near the hanger fueling his plane—the smell of escaped vapors was in the air.

"Hey old timer. How's it going?"

Scott glanced up from his task. "Hi Harry. Long time no see." His gaze dipped down to take in Harry's gun case. "And look at what you've got. Cargo bay's full, so if you don't mind, squeeze that baby of yours between the seats." He gave Harry a wry smile. "It'll be closer to you at least."

Good friends, they had grown up together.

The wind, strong and wild continued to dance across the tarmac. Scott glanced up at the dark clouds forming around the mountains.

"Looks like we'll be flying into rough weather." Scott capped off the plane.

Harry tipped his head back as well. He must have sported a skeptical look on his face, because Scott started chuckling.

"Don't worry. I'll be using my new glass cockpit." Scott gave a loving tap to the side of his airplane.

"Looks beautiful." Harry peered inside to get a better look. "Do you trust it? Hate technology myself. Too damn complicated." He started to pace back and forth. On the second lap, he glanced at the cockpit and then looked directly at Scott.

Harry grinned and again looked through the window at the cockpit.

"Did you know I'm now the only licensed A&P mechanic at the airport?" Scott's chest puffed out. "That means I'm allowed to do my own installation and FAA paperwork."

Harry wished Scott hadn't continued talking. His heartbeat had shot up. Scott always does this.

Scott cleared his throat. "You're funny. It's been up a dozen times, including the flights getting it recertified. Don't worry." Harry adjusted his grip on the case which caught Scott's attention. "Hey, that's your prized gun."

Harry lifted his case and nodded. "Yep. It's my best. It's a companion of sorts."

The two men climbed into the sleek, zipped up plane. Scott took his seat at the controls and Harry sat behind him. It took Scott a moment to fight against the wind and pull the door shut.

The sudden quiet inside was at odds with the snow blowing hard enough to briefly obscure the surroundings. Scott tuned in the weather channel, picking up the tail end of a winter storm advisory. He fired up the engine to warm it up and began his preflight check.

Harry rested his hand on the gun case, a gesture which subconsciously comforted him. "I'm going to the gun show. It's therapeutic," Harry smiled. "While I'm there, gonna see what I can fetch for it. We could use the money."

Scott froze. "You're not thinking of selling it? If you can part with your baby, what will your wife think?" He grinned at Harry. "She might feel a bit insecure."

Harry didn't respond immediately. Scott was joking, of course, but selling the Browning was a solemn occasion. He collected his thoughts.

"For the last some-odd years, I just haven't needed it. This second time around being married I realized I can't disappear on these long hunting trips anymore." He allowed his mouth to lift in a half-hearted smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "I'm just busy, haven't been using it."

Scott consulted an instrument on his display.

Harry didn't want to revisit this and his eyes wandered looking for some other subject. He glanced behind at the empty seats. "Just us today?"

"Looks that way."

Finished with the pre-flight check, Scott revved the engine. The plane lurched and Scott maneuvered toward the runway.

Harry kept his gaze fixed outside the window as Scott talked. He'd been through a lot of close calls and desperate moments with his gun, and the thought of selling his Browning Lighting BLR 30-06 made him slouch in his seat.

"Tell you what Harry, you need to get out someday, you borrow my 300 Weatherby. Great bolt-action." Scott let go of the controls and went through the motions of lifting and pulling back the bolt, loading it and firing.

"I know. Beautiful," said Harry.

He was absentmindedly patting the case again in remembrance when he caught sight of a figure moving in the distance. "Wait. Someone's coming."

Scott killed the engine. Through the falling snow, they watched someone hurrying toward the plane. A blurb on the radio called out that they had another passenger.

A young woman bundled in a colorful coat and hat approached the door. She had an elegant face. Her long blonde hair flowed out from under her hat, waving in the wind. She was out of breath, but when Scott opened the door for her, she introduced herself with a beaming and cheerful smile.

"You fellows heading my way?"

Harry sat up straighter as introductions were made. The young lady introduced herself as Zoe Sastre. She sat beside him in the second passenger seat, careful not to step on his case, which upped her in his estimation.

"Guess we're set now." Scott turned back around in his seat. "Oops."

Scott's comment took Harry's attention to the cockpit. He noticed a flickering light. Scott ducked down under the panel and made an adjustment to stop it.

At Zoe's raised eyebrow, Scott laughed. "No worry." He pushed the throttle and the plane advanced onto the runway.

The radio blared to life, clearing them for takeoff. Harry looked out as they climbed higher and higher, clearing the mountains. At a gentle prod to his arm, he shifted his attention back to Zoe.

"Is that your gun case down here? It's huge."

Scott took a moment from his piloting to glance over his shoulder. "Harry was the top outdoorsman in the area. He's taken groups into the wilderness for months at a time."

Zoe's eyebrows rose. "Really. You're a real man. I bet you don't call out for pizza when you're hungry."

That made Harry laugh. "Nope. There's no pizza delivery down there." At Zoe's smile, he felt comfortable asking a question of his own. "So, are you a college student?"

"Yes. Well, no. I just graduated, but I'm going on to post-graduate work."

Harry shifted to face her more. "Are you studying to be a nurse?"

She cocked her head. "I'm curious, why do you think I'd be studying nursing?"

Harry shrugged. "You seem the type. I have a daughter about your age. She's studying nursing at the college. My wife Carol's a nurse too. Guess that's just what popped into my head."

"Actually, I'm studying to be a doctor."

"A doctor." He nodded his head. "That's impressive."

"I love it. Plan to do research."

Scott spoke over his shoulder. "Where're you going to study now?"

"I've got a scholarship at Harvard. Start next fall. Going to be a big change."

Were her shoulders sagging? "You sound a little down."

"It's complicated."

"Now you sound like my son."

She smiled again. "How many kids do you have?"

He held up three fingers. "A son and two daughters. All complicated. When I first got married I thought my wife was complicated. Then we had kids. I have had days where my complications got so complicated, and all my efforts to un-complicate things, well, they just became another complication. Eventually I had to head out into the mountains and find my cave." He laughed at himself. "But you survive."

"I do wonder about this whole marriage thing." Zoe picked at the fringe of her scarf. "That's why I'm focusing on my career."

"Awe...come on. It's not so bad."

Scott bobbed his head in front of them. "It's a journey. But you do wonder, sometimes. We all do."

"That's true," Harry said. "One minute you're up, next you're down, but then you're up again. Scott thinks of it all as chapters in a book."

Zoe looked out the window, away from Harry. "I think I'm more down right now. My boyfriend has been a real jerk."

Harry resisted the urge to pat her hand comfortingly. "Really, things work out. Trust me. I'm also one of the best jerks in the county." He poked Scott's back. "Right, Scott?"

"Absolutely. Pam could have told you how many mistakes those two made. Remember the time you forgot her birthday?"

"Shhh," said Harry.

Scott glanced back at Zoe. "But Pam kept trying, and Harry kept trying. That's sometimes what it takes."

Zoe drew her eyebrows together and questioned Harry. "Carol? Pam?"

"Pam was my first wife. She was wonderful."

Inspired, Harry took a big breath.

"If you know someone and haven't had a big argument, or never inadvertently allowed one of your demons to emerge, if you haven't had to repair damage that you caused, if you haven't needed to be forgiven, or you haven't forgiven something that hurt, then the price of a cherished and meaningful relationship has not yet been paid."

"Wow. That's a big thought—very poetic."

Harry lifted a shoulder. "I used it in a sermon. I'm also a minister."

"But it doesn't sound like the relationship was that wonderful, if that chapter ended in divorce. You have a new wife, right?"

There was a long silence while Harry thought about how to respond. "There were certainly times when I argued with Pam, a lot." He laughed. "I think there were points when we even hated each other. It doesn't mean that there wasn't something much stronger underneath. We endured to see much better times. That chapter ended because she died."

Zoe's face fell. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

He smiled at her to let her know there were no hard feelings. "It's okay. You're young. Scott and I are old farts, but we know a thing or two. That boyfriend of yours, he may turn into a great husband. Then comes the kids, and as I said, it gets pretty complicated, but it's worth it."

Instead of rekindling Zoe's original disposition, she remained gloomy. He tried again. "It's all well worth it, particularly the kids."

She started to fidget and the conversation grew quiet for a few minutes while the engines droned on.

Harry cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to be so serious. What takes you out of Grand Junction?"

Zoe didn't respond, but fiddled incessantly, adjusting her air vent, her seatbelt, the zipper on her coat, and squirming in her chair. After a few moments, Harry pulled out a paperback from his coat and started reading.

"M-My boyfriend isn't a jerk." Harry turned his head away from his book. "But I think he'll be a jerk. I don't want to deal with it."

Harry hadn't a clue what she was talking about. "Maybe you should talk it out, explain how you feel."

"It's not a discussion he belongs in. But he won't think so."

"Sounds like there's something you haven't told him. But again, maybe he won't be a jerk."

Scott chimed in. "Maybe he'll just be a jerk for a little while. Think of it as a phase guys go through, before finally getting it right."

Harry reached over and put his hand on Zoe's shoulder, as he had done countless times to his own daughter. "Give your boyfriend the benefit of the doubt. Have faith that it will work out."

She flashed him a tight grin. "I've really got it all figured out. After all, I'm going to Harvard. I've got things to do. I've got my plans."

She was distressed. Harry removed his hand. "Okay. That's great." He withdrew back to reading his paperback.

After a little while, Zoe's small voice interrupted him. "I don't want to talk about it. I don't. I don't need anyone else involved." She was wringing her hands.

"I didn't mean to upset you. Please accept my apology."

She assumed a pained expression. Whatever she was keeping inside was like a balloon about to burst.

She sighed. "An unexpected consequence."

Only seconds pass, but it seemed much longer.

"My boyfriend was pretty persistent. And look at me now." She swept a hand over her flat abdomen. "I'm pregnant."

Right after she dropped her bomb, Scott called his attention to outside the window.

"Hey, Harry, isn't that Captain's Peak below?"

Harry took a good long look. The peak was barely visible through the falling snow. "Yep. That's Captain's Peak. What're we doing here?"

Scott huffed. "I don't know. We're off course, but we'll head east. We'll be fine."

"Got enough fuel?"

Scott consulted his gauge. "Plenty. We'll more than make it."

Harry turned his attention back to Zoe, who had remained frozen since being interrupted.

"We're going to be okay, right?" Her eyes were wide.

"Yeah, these old planes have their problems, but we're okay. Please continue."

"Did you hear what I said before? I'm pregnant. I shouldn't have listened to my sweet talking boyfriend. I'm so angry."

Harry contemplated what to say. He looked down. "It's not the preferred situation, but it's not the first time this has happened. It can work out. I myself was born out of wedlock, and it worked out."

"Hey, wait a second. I'm not going to have it. I am not going to let my future turn into diapers. I've got plans and I'm not changing them."

Harry scratched his chin. "I don't know. You seem upset despite all your thinking."

She slashed a hand through the air. "It's just that if my mother knew, she would be against it."

"It?"

"Ending the pregnancy."

Harry thought. "Is this the same reason you think your boyfriend will be a jerk?"

"Yep. If they knew, they would all make my life miserable. But it's my choice and I have made it."

In the ensuing silence, Zoe took a deep breath, released it, and her smiling disposition returned. "I feel much better. I'm sorry, but I just needed to say all this. Thanks for listening."

Harry shook his head. "I think I need to find a cave. You're a sweet girl, can I say something."

"Don't. I just needed to talk."

She held up her hand, palm facing Harry. "I'm over it. Let's go on to something else."

Harry picked up his paperback again, but just stared at it.

Chapter 2

Harry noticed Scott frantically pressing buttons. He flipped a switch on the radio several times. "Scott, how we doing?"

"Not good. Ice is building on the wings and the radio's down."

Zoe peeked over Scott's shoulder.

The horizon loomed too close to the plane for Harry's peace of mind. "Scott, we're too low!"

"Crap. There's too much ice on the wings." He flipped another switch. "We're losing altitude."

"Oh god." said Zoe.

She knew things were going south and fast.

Harry looked out the window. "Scott, can we ditch somewhere?"

Scott was no longer flying above the mountains, but maneuvering between two ridges. "Do you see anywhere flat? Shit, it's just so damn hard to see down there." He carefully followed the ridges around a bend.

They caught flashing glimpses of a snow-covered pass ahead with dense pines to either side.

"I think we can clear the top," Scott said.

The engine droned on as they approached the pass. Scott wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and pushed the throttle to the max, but the plane barely lifted.

Zoe mumbled to herself. "We're going to make it. We're going to make it."

The ground seemed to be rising. Suddenly they were above the belly of the pass. A wheel sliced through a mound of snow jerking the plane side to side. Through the window, tree trunks zoomed by as they raced toward the other side of the pass.

Zoe leaned forward, clutching the seat in front of her. The wheels crashed through another rise of snow. The plane shook violently. Her seatbelt popped loose. She looked down with her eyes wide open. With one hand she struggled to hold on. With the other, she tried to snap the buckle in.

Harry clutched his own belt and tested it. "We're not freakin' going to make it."

Zoe screamed.

Harry turned and looked out the side window. Is this it? For a moment he lost himself reflecting on this question.

The plane roared ahead, trying to clear the top. The pass was piled with high snow—a two-story wall rising from the belly. Then they gasped at the inevitable. They crashed into the wall of snow.

The plane shook. Harry heard a terrific and piercing metallic crunch behind his ear. His upper torso was thrown forward. He instinctively put his arms over his head as the seatbelt dug into his waist.

He blinked, realizing the crash was over. He was still alive, but it was dark, except for a few faint emergency lights. The side windows were completely obscured by snow. The front window was shattered and packed, blood-soaked snow protruded inward. There was no way to get any clear bearings. He shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He had the sense that up, through the snow, was out.

A quick body scan—a little blood, nothing broken. He looked to his right to check on Zoe. Her seat was empty. A chill passed through him. Behind, he saw only snow. The tail section was ripped completely off. He gasped, she was surely dead. He stared into the snow until noises from Scott caused him to turn back around. Leaning forward, he watched Scott's chest rise and fall in jerks. Otherwise, Scott didn't move.

His shirt was ripped and blood oozed from a deep gash. Scott was pinned.

Harry looked into his eyes. "Scott."

He moaned, coughing up blood. However, he could speak and Harry talked with him. A few minutes went by. Both knew he wasn't going to make it. Scott became incoherent and thought he was home. Then mid-sentence, he stopped breathing.

Harry was alone. His heart pounded. Looking around he took a few forced breaths. There was something in the air. It was gasoline. Not above feeling panicked he wanted to scream. He crawled quickly over the seats to the rear and began digging where the tail section had been. With his bare hands he dug, upward into the snow.

He made progress but then hit something. The little light from the cabin hardly afforded much by which to see, but he could feel it was metal. Something was blocking him.

The thought flashed that he was trapped. He swallowed and fought off again the urge to panic. Extending his arms up, he probed gently with his fingers around the metal. Suddenly it crashed down. The weight of the metal and snow pinned him to the floor.

#

Regaining her senses, Zoe sat up. She found herself outside. The crash was over and the silence was unnerving. Dazed, she glanced around. The tail section was just behind her. It stuck out of the snow, clearly torn from the main fuselage. There was no sign of the rest of the plane. In the distance, the sight of endless mountain tops ushered in a rising panic. A chill of a different sort ran through her bones—was she alone?

The far side of the ledge was downward sloping. Chunks of snow kept breaking off, but she didn't hear anything afterwards. She sensed it was a sheer edge.

Zoe scooted over and leaned against the tail. Beyond the ledge were distant mountains. The edge she gathered was a straight drop, perhaps thousands of feet. The whole ledge felt unstable. Squinting, she made out bits of debris strewn across the snow's surface. She listened to the wind darting through the trees.

Zoe became aware of her own breathing. Shivering from the cold, she watched her breath as she exhaled. A full moon had just entered the horizon. Though it was still daylight, she saw its diffused glow behind the clouds. An endless procession of large and lofty snowflakes danced their way downward, so uncaring of what had happened. The quiet was disorienting. She strained for even a faint sound of civilization.

Zoe shifted a little and cried out at the throbbing pain in her arm. Her heart pounded, her breathing was rapid. Looking down, she carefully inspected her coat. It appeared intact. Still, she hesitated, not ready to take her arm out. Fear gripped her.

Was she really stranded, alone, seriously injured? Though this echoed through her mind over and over, she tried to stay calm.

She wiggled her fingers. A little pain. Encouraged, she unzipped her coat. Using her good arm, she carefully slid the sleeve off. She bit her lip at the cold that rushed in, but she needed to see. Gently she felt the area that hurt. Even slight pressure caused the pain to explode. She shuddered, but was relieved at no obvious break or blood.

Zoe returned to the awareness and awe of the vastness around her and how alone she felt. Her mind numb, she just sat and stared. A small hump in the snow, down near the edge, caught her interest for a moment. Exhaling another breath, she peered into the white mist as it again dissipated. The hump seemed larger when she looked at it again. By the time her next breath dissipated, something poked through the hump. It moved, again and again, as if climbing straight up, out of the snowy depths. Dazed, she finally recognized the gun case.

The case then leapt into the air and settled in the snow. Hallelujah. She was not alone. Wanting to move closer, she lifted her foot to get up. This tiny movement loosened some snow, which rolled down the slope, past the gun case and over the edge. In a heartbeat, movement lost its appeal. Her heart raced—she was terrified, not knowing what would happen next. All she could do was wait. Wait and watch.

A hand shot up where the gun case had emerged. Snow was pushed aside and another hand appeared, holding a first aid kit. Someone was pushing snow out of their way, emerging from beneath. Little mounds accumulated as they worked, but one by one these too rolled and dropped silently off the edge.

Finally, Harry's head poked out. Zoe sighed in relief. He was facing her. Cuts and scrapes covered his head and hand. He paused, and appeared to be gathering his breath.

Zoe called out, but not loud enough to catch his attention.

Harry chucked the first aid kit up the slope, then grabbed his gun case with both hands. Shoving it into the snow horizontally, he leaned on the case to lift himself, emerging bit by bit from the snowy depths. He repeated this several times, advancing the gun case up the slope, until he was fully out. He collapsed on the surface and just lay there, exhaustion in his features.

Next, he carefully started dragging himself up the slope, still using the gun case as an anchor. Zoe could see he avoided applying even the slightest pressure with his feet for he must also fear breaking away and careening downward. The gun case gave him at least some chance of applying his weight against the snow. As Harry edged up, his leg left a bright red trail.

She called out again, but Harry didn't notice. He was apparently concentrating. Reaching the first aid kit, he grabbed it, offering her little more than a glance as he passed by. He crawled a bit further up to the bordering trees, finally making it off the slope. Trembling, he gradually stood and let out a huge sigh.

Zoe's cry for help was more forceful the third time. The unbearable throb in her arm might be bad enough to make her pass out. She attempted to stand up.

"Don't! Don't stand up."

As if on cue, a rumble began underneath her and the entire shelf of snow shifted downward, opening up a narrow ominous fissure between her and safety.

Harry knelt in the snow. "Lie down. Try to gently roll over here, but slowly. Avoid pushing with your feet."

She rolled and twisted her way to him, grimacing and moaning when she put pressure on her arm. Still trembling, Harry offered her a hand in getting up. They took a few steps into the woods and sat on a fallen tree. Another rumble inched the shelf of snow downward again.

"I didn't know if you were going to make it."

She exhaled hard. "No kidding. I wondered, honestly, if these were my last moments. But I'm still here."

Harry patted her hand as they sat. "I'm glad. Are you okay?"

"Just a really nasty bruise on my arm. Hurts like hell if you touch it. Gosh, I hope it's not broken."

"Maybe a hairline fracture. Either way, just take it easy. Let it heal."

Harry noticed the trail of blood in the snow and followed it to his leg. "I'm bleeding." He paused. "Strange, it doesn't hurt." He pulled up his pant leg, revealing a bloody gash just above his ankle.

She winced. "Here, give me the first aid kit. I'll dress it."

He pulled the kit from the snow, handing it to her.

"It's just a scratch. I've had worse. It's not even bleeding much anymore."

She opened the case and took stock of its contents. "What about Scott? What's he waiting for? Is he okay?"

His voice was pained. "He's dead."

Zoe had been cleaning Harry's wound with peroxide, but now continued in slow motion.

Harry recounted his own trauma of the crash. Her heart clenched as Harry again suffered through a moment where he found it difficult to speak. Finally he put together a few words. "I'm going to miss him. Been friends a long time. I wonder if I can bury him?"

She said nothing. Surely Harry knew that would be impossibly dangerous. She finished dressing the wound and they sat, giving him the space to reflect on the loss of his friend.

"All that technology and this still happened. Damn."

She turned to Harry. "What technology?" He was still looking the other way in reflection.

"Scott had upgraded the controls. Put it in himself."

"He did it himself?" Zoe was exasperated. "There are regulations. This plane obviously would never have been certified. What the hell was he doing taking passengers?"

He snapped around. "Just settle down. He's been flying long before you were born, one of the best. A top mechanic too."

She wasn't going let this bullshit go unchallenged. "Shit. Look at what's happened. He should never have been licensed."

He glared. "Are you blaming him?"

Zoe was ready with her answer, but didn't get the chance.

Much to her surprise he slumped down, his ire had waned. "We were off course, but that didn't cause the crash. It was the ice on the wings. That's why we couldn't clear the pass."

Her voice was tense. "Well, who the hell else should have dealt with it?"

"He did." Harry sighed. "Shit happens. Did it ever occur to you that you are alive because of him. It could have been worse. We could be dead."

She rolled her eyes, but Harry didn't engage further. Gradually, she calmed down and gradually his words sank in.

"Sorry."

"This plane was fully certified. Let's deal with real problems."

#

Zoe looked around. Snow continued to fall and the sun had dipped behind the mountains, though there was still plenty of light. The wind picked up and howled.

She looked to Harry who had opened the gun case, checking its contents.

He took a long hard look in all directions.

"We have to figure a way down. We're pretty high up. And I don't think they'll look here. We are way off course."

She waited for him to say the next step, but he didn't. He had re-entered that reflective state from earlier, and after a few minutes, she became uncomfortable, sensing Harry was thinking about something she may not want to hear. Her breathing accelerated, but finally he spoke.

"If I go alone I will eventually get out. I know that. But with you, no experience, it will be risky and slow."

Her breath caught. "Are you thinking to leave me? I'll die."

"There's food here. I can leave you with some while you wait to be rescued. I can get out and fetch help. Alone, I might make it in a week, before winter really sets in." He cast a glance her direction. "With you, there's a good chance we'll have to wait it out. Tough getting out in the winter, and spring is a long way away."

The wind had died down and the silence added to the tension. Then, loud rumbling abruptly shattered the calm. The entire shelf of snow started to move. Both of them turned and stared at the crash site. Smoke billowed out of the hole from which Harry had emerged. Two loud pops then startled them followed by whistling.

She grabbed a hold of Harry's arm. The shelf moved again and an explosion prompted her to lurch behind him. She peered over his shoulders as flames shot skyward, illuminating a grey plume of smoke quietly wafting up. It was but a brief surreal blink, both incredible and frightening. The flames finished their violent dance and then disappeared as if sucked into the ground.

Harry jumped up. "Shit, there goes the plane's emergency beacon."

In the next instant, everything was still, though Zoe's ears continued to ring from the explosion. The whole snow shelf then simply gave way, careening over the edge. A long silence was followed by a faint thud as the snow, debris - and Scott - came to rest somewhere below.

Harry said nothing, just stared into the distance. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Rest in peace Scott."

#

Harry looked at the stars. "Just a second."

Zoe waited until he glanced to her. "You knew him for a long time?"

"Yeah. I've been looking after him since grade school. Kept the bullies away." Rekindling this brought a slight smile to Harry. He brushed his fingers through his graying hair. "Yup. Knew him a long time."

He eventually looked at Zoe, still sitting on the log. "It's going to be hard getting down."

"Would you really abandon me?" She gave a huff. "Don't leave me out here. That's insane."

Her question reminded him who he was. "You're right, of course. Just seemed like a solution."

She turned from him and gestured to their surroundings. "What I would give to be off this mountain."

Harry cleared his throat. "There's something else." He sat, thinking about how to broach what was on his mind.

"Something else?"

"Yeah. I'm more comfortable getting out later than sooner."

The white of Zoe's eyes show in her surprise and...anger. "How could getting out soon be an issue?"

"It's about your plans to end your pregnancy."

"What?" She waved him off. "Don't worry about it. I am only a couple months... Wait, this is none of your damn business—it's my body and my life. Hasn't enough already happened today? Why are we talking about this?"

He shrugged. "Why risk my life for you? Ten to one you'll get me killed trying get off this mountain. Do you think taking you won't affect me?" It had boiled through. His personal convictions were guiding his thinking.

He drew back, taking a minute to let the fire inside die down. He'd rattled her. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water...which, come to think of it, was an apt description.

He slumped over, spent. "It's not actually about taking you. It's me." They looked at each other. "Do you think my children were all planned and came at a convenient time? Yet they're beautiful. I welcomed them. I can't see struggling down the mountain with you, only to help you end your child's life. I don't care if you think the child isn't a child yet, it is for me."

Her mouth dropped. "I can't believe we are discussing this. Look, this is a decision I've already made. Can we just focus on getting the hell out of here?" She paused, as if struck by a thought. She narrowed her eyes at him. "My parents have money. I could pay you."

"Don't even try. This isn't about money."

She had begun to lose her temper. "I don't want this child. You can't force me to have it."

He spoke back to her patiently, but with steel underlying every word. "Nor can you force me to take you. I won't be pressured to be part of this. I have a choice too."

She rolled her eyes. "I can't believe this is happening. You're too damn preachy."

They sat for some time while the snow continued to fall.

"You hate me."

"There're things I can't live with. Are you willing to do that to me?"

Her tears weren't wholly unexpected. Harry turned to her and closed his eyes to stem the tide of emotion behind them. He pushed out each word. "I don't hate you. I just don't know what to do. It's not that I don't want to help. I'd climb ten mountains to help you, especially knowing you're pregnant. That's who I am. But what you're planning, I can't be part of. I just can't."

She raised a hand in supplication. "Why do you care so much?"

"Why?" He scratched his head, the question catching him off guard. "Because I do, and I won't be untrue to myself. Scott wanted me to make sure you and your baby were okay, to help you. He had but a few moments left, and that was what mattered." He sighed. "And now I sit here struggling with what to do."

Zoe blinked at him, and he could almost see the wheels turning behind her hazel eyes.

"I'll give you the baby. I'll have it and I'll give it to you. If you think your wife will just stop everything she's doing and take this child, I will give it to you." Her voice hitched on a sob. "I just want to get out of here. I'm cold."

"Will you really do this?"

"Yes." Her voice was small.

Harry reflected on this new possibility. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes!"

She looked sincere, but she was also emotional. "You promise?"

She took a deep breath.

Like I have a choice, she thought. Another deep breath, but this time she was quite clear, "yes."

Harry sighed.

#

Zoe collected herself. She sat on the log looking at him. She wondered if he understood that she really had no intention of changing her plans. Bizarre. If he were a cab driver, does he think he has the right not to drive me to a clinic for an abortion. I just need the guy to get me out of here. What's he waiting for?

Chapter 3

Harry stood and his breathing became strong. He picked up his gun case, dusted off the snow and looked around. An unbearable weight has been lifted from his shoulders and his do-anything spirit was back.

He picked up the first aid kit. "I don't think we want to carry this around." Opening it, he removed various items placing them in his coat pockets. He then shrugged and tossed the kit into the woods. "I've always made it a point to put things back where they belong, but I guess that can go anywhere now."

Harry motioned for Zoe to get up. They followed the right side of the pass looking for a way down. They marched through the pines, staying close to the edge. With each step the cut on his leg ached, causing Harry to limp.

"Looks like the snow is tapering off." Harry stopped and looked up. Part of the moon was visible as clouds passed.

He spied a fallen branch, picking it up for a walking stick. A few steps further, he nodded to Zoe. "Better."

He could tell this isn't an easy walk for her. As tree branches rubbed against her bruised arm, there was a moan or at least a cringe. Their sounds were the drumbeats to which they pressed forward. An hour or so went by and the plateau narrowed.

Harry squinted, looking ahead. "This isn't going to work. It drops off on both sides. Let's double back. Try the other direction." He hesitated to add the rest, but speed was of the essence. "Also, try to pick up the pace."

"But I'm cold. Can we stop and rest? I'm tired and hungry."

He surveyed the sky. The clouds had cleared. Dusk had arrived and the stars appeared one by one. "See the moon up there? All the stars? We're lucky. On a cloudy night without the moon, you wouldn't even see your own hand. We need to find some shelter—so please, try to keep going."

Her sigh was deep.

#

Zoe noticed their footsteps disappearing. Was this place trying to erase them?

Harry tended to walk faster and get ahead, after which he would stand and wait for her. This happened a few times as they made their way back to the pass.

"I really need to rest. I'm exhausted. Besides, I should check your leg. Just stop for a second." Without permission, she bent down and peeked under Harry's bandage. The bleeding has stopped. They continued after this too-brief pause.

She thought they might as well talk. "Are we far from a city?"

Harry didn't respond. He must have been lost in thought. She wondered if he believed her promise and what, if not, he might be thinking.

"I will have the baby for you. I promise." She breathed deep, trying not to show weakness or appear a burden in front of this—this mountain man. "I'm sorry I can't walk faster. I'm trying."

"It's okay."

He sounded distracted, like he wasn't even listening.

She tried again. "Don't leave me out here. Please." She wasn't accustomed to begging, but she wasn't above it.

Harry slogged forward. "That's not what I am thinking about. But it's like what you said...we can't call out for pizza."

They arrived back at the pass and made their way across to the other side. Harry paused, and Zoe focused in the direction he looked.

To the left of the pass rose a high mountain with what seemed a sheer rock face. Beyond as well as below were trees, which felt safe to Zoe—they could hike through them. Cut across the middle of the sheer face was a thin line. It looked like a path. Its white snow stood out in contrast to the bare rock face. However, high above near the mountain's crest, even her untrained eye could make out a massive deposit of snow; it lingered ominously.

Harry, too, followed the path with his eyes. It seemed to come to a dead end in the middle of the sheer face, way short of reaching across. "Let's head this way. I want to get a closer look. At least it seems to be in the right direction."

After another hour, the moon passed behind the mountain and it got very dark but for the starlight. They walked along, and Zoe was grateful Harry slowed his pace so she could keep up.

Whereas previously they had been in a woods on a plateau, ahead was only a wide path with sporadic trees. To their left the mountain rose, to their right an abrupt edge, so forward they marched through the snow.

Eventually the path ended, narrowing into nothing and leaving them with nowhere to go.

Harry had seen this coming, of course, so he quietly studied the situation. He stepped close to the edge and looked down. It was steep, leveling out far below into a forest. He decided to backtrack again.

Zoe shivered, so he momentarily pressed his cheek against hers to give her some warmth. His skin was rough and cold, but she warmed quickly and he repeated the process for her other cheek.

She sniffled. "Are we going back again?"

"No. Over here." He returned to a small indentation he had previously noted in the mountain's side. "Scoot in here. Let's get some sleep and see what tomorrow's light brings."

She felt truly tired, bending down and slipping into the space without comment. He then slid in his gun case and followed, squeezing between the ceiling and floor of what only a child would call a cave. His body helped keep her warm and she drifted.

#

In the morning, he was the first to wake. A couple of feet of light snow had fallen. They were almost sealed in, except for a few inches through which the morning's light shone. He pushed aside the fluffy snow and climbed out. Zoe woke, but seemed content to lay and watch.

Harry looked over the edge, its features now clearly visible. "Darn, darn, darn."

Zoe shifted in the small opening. "My toes are tingling. Can I get out?"

Poking his head back in, he opened the three latches on his gun case. He took out the gun along with a few rounds, as well as a flashlight, which he handed to Zoe.

"You probably have the beginnings of frostbite. Wiggle your toes and move your legs—try to warm up. You'll be fine. It hasn't been that cold. But don't get out. Just hold the flashlight and stay put."

It was clear from Zoe's expression that she had not actually seen such a weapon before, and she stared. The gun made her uneasy.

"The scope makes it deadly accurate." Harry winked.

Carefully, he aimed and then repositioned the gun several times.

"What the heck are you doing? Are you going to shoot the mountain?" The sounds of panic were coming on. "Let me out of—"

He interrupted her when he started firing, getting off the rounds before ducking back into the cave.

She had begun to struggle to get out, but he lay against her. He closed his eyes and the quiet rumble got louder and louder. Moments later the roar was deafening. He squeezed in tight and covered his ears.

Suddenly, it was much quieter, but the cave was black. Snow had sealed them in. Harry's arm was against Zoe and he felt her heart pounding, even as the distant rumbling faded.

"Time to dig out—again." He turned to Zoe. "Can you click on the flashlight?"

She did, and he put the gun back in the case. With a bit of maneuvering, he twisted himself so that he was facing the snow and started pushing the case into it like a giant toothpick.

His shoulders screamed at the strenuous, tiring effort. He slowed but kept going. Perspiration soon filled the air and it smelled like a locker room after desperate overtime.

After a while, he paused. "I've broken through. It's not too deep." Truly a relief, because it was a crapshoot he'd taken. He started pushing and pulling on the case, gradually enlarging the hole.

Zoe spoke. "We could have been buried alive." He glanced at her and could see she'd pieced it together. "What were you thinking? Why cause an avalanche?"

He ignored her question and kept working.

"I said," her voice was louder, "what are you doing?"

"I had an idea."

He pulled the case back into the cave. Light streamed in through and fresh air flowed. Zoe sipped it, no doubt grateful not to be inhaling the damp and unpleasant stench. He leaned back against the cave, resting and enjoying seeing the daylight at the end of the hole.

"So you were just hoping—"

"Listen." He shut his eyes and concentrated, turning his head slightly. "Hear that?"

"What?"

A beat was getting louder, it was clear and distinct.

"It's a helicopter."

Zoe shifted, trying to see outside. "Do something."

"Like what? It'll be ten minutes before we're out." No sooner had he uttered the words then the sound of the helicopter faded. "They are at least looking for us."

"Will they be back?"

He grimaced. "I don't know. It depends if they spot the wreckage." He didn't want to be defeatist, but realism was in his blood. "I doubt it. It's just too buried. Besides, we're off course. To be honest, I didn't expect them to search this far out."

They sat and listened, hoping to hear the helicopter again. However, it remained quiet. He moved back into position and resumed digging.

She huffed. "You could be more encouraging."

"We're alive. That's encouraging. Now let's get out." He shoved at the case then paused. "By the way, how are your toes?"

In her silence, Harry imagined her taking stock, wiggling her toes in her shoes. "We missed our ride home, but my toes have warmed up. That's just great."

Ignoring her attitude, he extended his arms and squeezed his way into the passageway. In time, the opening began to widen.

"Harry, you're plugging the hole. It's dark again."

He yelled down for her to use the flashlight.

"I'm not getting enough air. I'm feeling claustrophobic."

He slid down, letting in some fresh air while he rested, reassuring her. "Zoe, I know it's a tight space but please, fight the urge to panic. I just need a few more minutes."

She reluctantly nodded and he got back to work. It took a lot longer than a few minutes and all the while he braced for more complaints. But Zoe hung in. Eventually, he passed back down the gun case and carefully lifted himself out.

He peered back down and Zoe was welcoming the blast of light and fresh air that filled the cave.

"Slide up the case. And remember to put the flashlight back."

She tossed the flashlight inside. "Do you have a plan? I hope you're happier now. Did you shoot the mountain enough? Did you get the avalanche you wanted?"

He heard the cover slam shut. She pushed the case out into his reaching arms. Then she crawled up.

"I had an idea, but I didn't know if it would work. But I think there's enough snow now to slide down."

Zoe peeked out of the hole, looked down and blinked a few times. Still steep, the slope was now covered with snow. The avalanche's massive weight had left behind a white tail before crashing into the forest. Zoe was silent.

Harry grinned. "I noticed this affect clearing out avalanches for ski resorts. Only we used explosives."

"Holy crap. It's a long way down. The trees look like ants."

He lay belly down on the steep slope with the gun case strapped to his back, anchoring himself by digging his feet and arms into the snow.

"I'll go first. Just don't go too fast." He cast a brief smile.

He moved down the slope. At first he slid a few inches and then forced his boots into the snow to stop. He kept doing this, each time allowing himself to slide a little faster. Pretty soon he discovered that he had just enough friction to descend without stopping.

"Look," he called to Zoe from twenty feet below. "It's easy. Just don't look down."

Zoe crawled out head first. However, before she was able to flip around she started sliding, upside down. Unlike Harry, her coat and lighter weight caused her to slide rapidly. She screamed.

Harry had almost no time to prepare. Zooming by, he grabbed her, spinning her around. Her impact sent them sliding. With both arms, he held on.

To his alarm they weren't, as he had hoped, slowing, but in fact picking up speed. Harry's heart pounded. His hands occupied, he thought about pressing his toes into the snow. His gut told him no—that this would send them tumbling, like falling backwards off a ladder. They slid. He felt the gun, bouncing on his back. The strap tugged at his shoulder.

Something had to go. They were too heavy. In a few seconds, he sensed he would lose all control.

His only one real choice was clear. For an instant he let go of Zoe, switching to hold her with his left arm. With his right arm now free, he pulled the strap off over his head, and let go of the gun. Still sliding, he struggled to hold on, praying on each bump that she wouldn't break free.

Their weight lightened and using his right hand to dig into the snow, they slowed. Finally inching along, he jammed his boots in and stopped. He wanted to dearly look at what happened to his gun, but couldn't.

She was moaning—her arm must hurt terribly. At least he hadn't grabbed her injured arm.

Zoe heaved out a breath, the panic still in her eyes. "Looking up is better. What the hell am I doing here?"

"Calm down. We're okay." He tugged on her coat. "Don't breathe so fast."

"I don't want to do this anymore." She closed her eyes.

"Let's try again. Hold on to me, and I'll hold on to you. Ready?"

She held on, but shook her head. "No."

He pulled out his boots. Gliding over the uneven slope, Harry twisted his body as a break when they picked up speed. Lying more vertical than not, he had to look over his shoulder to see all the way down. It was unsettling, but occasionally checked their progress.

"Are we there yet?"

"Not yet, but closer."

It seemed like an endless descent, long and slow.

"Are we there yet?" her eyes still closed.

Harry glanced down. Sure enough, the worst had passed. The decent was by no means over, but they were not so frighteningly high. Relieved, he let out a chuckle. "Last time I heard that question was from my son, heading to Aunt Becky's." He let out another chuckle. "We had just left. So yes Zoe, we're almost there. I can smell Aunt Becky's roast."

Zoe smiled, her eyes opened and she looked at him before glancing down. She immediately lost her smile and shut her eyes again. "Shit."

They eventually came to rest on a rise in the snow, about thirty feet from the bottom.

Harry lifted his head. Straight ahead were the tops of the pine trees. To reach the bottom they had yet to negotiate a field of huge lumps. The scene reminded him of churning waves at the bottom of a waterfall.

Harry let go of her coat, and she released her grip on him.

They remained prone, absorbing the stillness.

Chapter 4

Finally Zoe spoke. "I can't believe we missed the freaking helicopter."

"Me too. Rotten timing. Let's hope they come back. Right now, I think we should get up." He bumped her thigh with his hand. "Ready?"

He is right. He thinks he's always right, she thought.

"I lost my gun." Harry's voice was dry.

She hadn't yet realized it was gone.

"I needed to let go of it, to stop our fall."

Her first thought was that it was too bad, losing such a prized possession. Her next thought interrupted like a parent shouting at a child, who had obliviously walked by an eminent danger. She swallowed—was it a better to have let her fall? She searched for a reason why Harry in his own self interest would choose her over the gun. She wondered briefly if the gun was that important. Then a third more ominous thought occurred to her; they may need the gun to survive. A knot formed in her stomach.

Harry stood and looked around.

He squinted. "Hey, there it is."

Harry took off after it. She turned her head in the other direction. Tentative relief streamed through her body, but not enough to bring her to get up. She lay and waited, her mind numb with two thoughts: he had chosen to hold on to her, and they're in serious trouble if the gun broke.

Ten minutes passed before he returned. He was panting.

"It's still in one piece. I'll be damned."

The glee in his voice instantly eradicated her uneasiness. Her breathing returned to normal. But a thought snuck back and lingered—did Harry hold on because of her promise? Of course not, she thought, it was the right thing for him to do. Yet it was an odd premise for her, the notion of a man's protective role. Any other time, the idea would have caused her hairs to bristle. She let the whole matter pass without further inquiry or comment; it was easier.

Harry stood, catching his breath, his gun once again strapped to his back.

"The sun is so warm. I could easily lie here some more." She closed her eyes. "But okay, time to get going."

She sat up. The enormous river of snow now lay motionless. Its fury gone, Zoe was nonetheless in awe of its power left evident by the scattered debris.

Harry took a step, slipped and fell. Given everything that had happened she couldn't help but laugh.

Looking around, she sized up the remaining climb down. Something moving caught her attention, and she pointed. "Look!"

Below them, a buck was struggling. It was trying to cross over the thick finger of snow left by the avalanche. Steam rose from its nostrils as it heaved its head with heavy antlers.

He tried to put his gun case next to him, but it kept sliding away. "It's huge. What an enormous buck, and the sucker is slogging away."

Zoe watched both the buck, who took notice of them and stepped up its effort, and Harry who struggled to keep the gun case steady. He was trying to undo the latches.

Harry stopped, cursed and handed the case to Zoe. "Here, hold it while I open it."

"You're going to kill it." She pulled the case away and Harry lost his grip on the latch. He spun his head around and saw the buck was nearly across and out of the avalanche area.

"Just hold the case. Let me do what I need to." He pulled it back and finished unlatching the cover.

"But it's helpless. You can't just kill it."

Harry had trouble keeping steady sitting in the snow. Nonetheless, he took aim.

"It's a buck." His finger squeezed the trigger and Zoe instinctively covered her ears.

Bang. The shot rang out.

The buck's legs collapsed. Its head fell forward. Her shoulders slumped. "It was a beautiful buck and you killed it. What a shame."

He shook his head. "This is the reality, at least out here. Get used to it."

These words didn't help, and she glared.

Harry sighed. "It's really a bit of good fortune. Let's get down there. You can help me butcher it."

"Good fortune?"

Harry slung the case on his back and as quickly as he could, made his way toward the buck. Zoe followed after, but was in no hurry. Harry began digging. "You are looking at lunch, and dinner, and lunch, and dinner. Certainly you must be hungry. This is a whole grocery store."

"I've just never eaten an animal. I mean one that was just breathing."

"I don't think we're going to find any tofu out here. He waved her closer. "I'm going to make some poles to prop it up. Come, start digging out around its legs. I'll be back in a moment."

He walked off, collecting branches from the debris. She returned to her not-so-exciting task.

A moment later, she shrieked.

"Oh! Harry. It's moving."

The buck shook its head violently. Disoriented and with blood coming from its wound, the animal snorted, twisted and heaved. It struggled to free itself. Zoe stepped back, keeping her distance, but looked admiringly. Maybe it could get away. Suddenly another shot rang out. The buck went limp.

She gasped. "You killed it again."

He lowered his gun. "I guess you're more used to ordering out pizza."

She pursed her lips at him. "I sorta wish we could just eat nuts and berries." She stared at the buck. "I've just never seen an animal die. We're really going to eat it?"

Harry had put the gun back in its case and taken out a large knife. "Are you playing with me? You seem too intelligent to be rattled by all this."

There was a long pause and Zoe reflected. Her heavy breathing slowed.

"For us grocery store types, this—" she gestured to the snow clotted with blood,"—is upsetting. I refused to chloroform a frog...my professor had to do it." She took a couple of deep breaths. "But yeah, this is my shtick." Harry appeared puzzled at the word. "You know, routine. I like drama," she cracked a smile, "with a twist of the absurd."

"Well, let's try serious for a while. You do know that a hamburger comes from a slaughter house?"

Zoe didn't answer. She had never been to one.

"Can you get those poles over there and help me prop it up? We need to drain the blood and prepare the meat."

Oh good grief. We're really doing this.

He lifted the rear of the buck, slicing through the skin to remove its intestines and stomach. Next, he propped it up headfirst and motioned her closer.

"Hold this. Don't be shy."

She helped hold the buck's head with one arm and tried to look away. Harry stuck his knife into the animal and a drop of blood splattered onto Zoe's cheek. She wiped it off onto her finger, stared at it and then finally shifted her gaze to Harry. He was working like a machine, systematically removing the hide. Intellectually she understood what was going on—after all, she was planning to be a doctor. Still, the skinned buck was a horrifying sight.

"I think my legs are getting wobbly." Harry didn't respond, probably too busy concentrating. Off came large strips of meat, which he in turn cut down into small portions.

"Now pay attention." He showed her how to pack the meat into holes in the snow. "We need to cook the meat, but this'll keep it fresh for now. Leave a couple good size portions out. I'm hungry."

Zoe adjusted to this new reality, getting over the grisly details.

She pushed at the buck's now lifeless head. "This seems like a lot of work and a lot of food. Aren't we going to be able to walk out of here soon?"

"We're miles from anywhere. We need to make a camp. That hike could very well take days. Right now, let's just get a fire going and eat."

He piled branches with pine needles underneath for the fire.

"How'ya going to light it?"

"Magic." Harry waved his hand in the air, but then took a lighter from his gun case.

What else did he have in that thing?

While the fire got going, he fetched a couple of other branches and sharpened their ends with his knife. In no time the steaks were sizzling on the skewers.

"Are you sure you want to wait for the berries and nuts?"

Again, her stomach rumbled. "It does smell good. Can I?"

He handed her one of the skewers and she took a bite. She paused, suppressing her hunger, but then just devoured it.

"Can I have more?"

"Sure." He handed her his and dug a couple of more portions out for himself.

"Guess I'm good with the NRA now." She bit into another section. "Is that a plane I hear?"

He cocked his head. "I don't think so. Sounds like the wind."

She savored the juicy meat as she chewed. "You know, there are probably a bunch of people up there frustrated that their flight is late. No idea that just below are a couple of stranded people."

Harry had skewered another piece using her discarded stick and set it over the flame. "Why don't you give them a big smile? I'll bet they notice, even from up there."

She grinned and looked up.

He mirrored her expression. "Oh, and don't forget the, 'Are you going my way?'"

"Of course." She raised her voice skyward. "Hey up there. Are you going my way?"

"To be honest, I think if they could see you, they'd be bemoaning about the airplane food while you sit here feasting on sizzling venison."

A squirrel took notice of them and slowly approached. She turned to it. "Waiter, could I have a glass of wine to go with this?"

"My dear, you're pregnant. Make that club soda."

The squirrel turned and scampered off.

Harry bent over in a grand gesture. "Would you like dessert?"

"Oh yes, that would be lovely. What are the choices?"

"Well, there's more venison."

Harry's eyes lit up and then he pulled out a crinkled wrapper from his pocket. "We do in fact have another choice. Squished candy bar. Only one portion remains."

"I'll take it."

He handed her the flattened wrapper. "I'm going to work on a shelter. It'd be helpful if you cook the meat. Make sure to cook it thoroughly, and when it's done, let it cool. Then put it back in the snow and cover it up." He turned and started to head off.

"By the way, do you have any ideas for a name?" asked Harry.

"A name for what?"

"That child in you, of course."

She forced a smile. "Well, let's see if we can get out of here, then worry about a name."

#

Harry marched off wondering if there was a limit to how much Zoe was enjoying herself and even her intention to have the baby.

She must have sensed the change in his mood and offered one more playful quip. "By the way, can you call me a cab?"

He stopped and took the olive branch. "Will do." Pretending to have a phone to his ear, he offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, they don't come out this far." He hung up. "So, how am I doing with your shtick?"

She returned the smile and unearth more venison to cook. Limited by her injured arm, the task went slowly.

"So...how's you arm doing?"

She paused to rub it. "Better. Thanks."

He nodded and left. It wasn't until early evening that he returned. She had long since finished cooking the meat and was waiting.

"Did you build a shelter?"

"Nah. It took me all afternoon just to make a nice axe." He lifted the axe and slowly rotated it. Damn thing was a beaut. Using a branch as a handle, he had removed all the bark and fashioned a slot. He'd wedged a sharp rock into the slot and secured it with thin strips of hide.

"Not quite what you get at the hardware store, but it'll do. However, I found a good cave. It has a hole in the top, which means we can make a warm fire inside." He glanced over at the buck's carcass. "We can also make a blanket from the hide."

"Sounds better than last night. Guess we're up scaling." She looked down. "Can I ask a favor?"

"Of course."

"I'd prefer two blankets, if you don't mind."

Harry almost took offense at the request, but on second thought, realized Carol would undoubtedly ask about the blanket count. Thus felt a degree of gratitude.

"Of course." He nodded. "He was the biggest buck I've seen. We'll go for two, but I may need another animal." He leaned the axe against his thigh. "By the way, I'm hungry. What's for dinner?"

"Um, venison. We have a special on venison." She dug out a couple portions from the snow, poking them with a skewer to lift them.

"Cold?"

"The microwave is broken."

"Let's bring them down to the cave and eat there." He lifted his axe. "I'll get a fire going."

Evening had arrived. Harry pointed to a nearby ridge visible just beyond a stand of pine trees. It was only a short walk—though trudging through the deep snow from the avalanche slowed them.

"You know that squirrel never showed up with my soda."

"Actually, I think I caught the guy. We can cook him up with the venison."

She giggled. "Seems a little severe for slow service."

They reached an opening in the rock face and entered. Harry ducked to get in. The cave's floor was flat, and a few stars could be seen through a crack in the ceiling. Not enough light for Zoe to look around, though, so she took his gun case to get the flashlight.

"I can't seem to get the flashlight to turn on."

"Here, let me try." He fiddled with the switch. "By the way, you seem to be pretty comfortable in my gun case. A good sign for us." He got the flashlight to give up the goods and shined it on his case, pulling out a collapsible metal cup.

"You've got lots of things in there."

"Just essentials. Once I get the fire going, you can put some snow in the cup and melt it. Not quite running water, but good." He handed the cup to Zoe. "Don't move. Just hold still for a second."

He had the flashlight pointed at her, but looked past her, to the cave's wall.

She turned her head to see. "What are you looking at?"

"Can you pull your coat up a little?"

She gave him a puzzled look, but tugged on the bottom of her coat. She looked to him for approval.

He was right. "You're pregnant. I can see it."

She swung her head around to see the shadow of her figure against the cave's wall. "In your imagination." She gazed at her outline longer. "I've been a little heavy on the sweets maybe, but that's not a baby bump." She lowered her coat quickly and turned away from him. "Are we going to try to get out soon?"

He switched his attention to getting a fire started and reflected on her question. "It's just getting comfortable now. Now you want to leave? So soon?" He laughed at her expression. "Just kidding. I need to finish a few things tomorrow, but I'll start scouting around the next day. It's not like I have a map, but generally the mountains end toward the west. I'll head that way."

With the cave lit by the fire, he got up and used an evergreen branch to brush away dust from the corner near the door. She followed after him, and his brow rose at the thought she was unhappy and might want to try for another cave. She turned and circled the cave's interior, counting out aloud her paces. All the while her eyes inspected the walls, floor and ceiling, and she ducked a couple times as the clearance grew tight. The fire flickered and she, followed by her shadow returned at the count of twenty-five paces. She took a deep breath through her nose.

He anticipated an appraisal. "We don't have a lot of other choices, you know."

"It'll do." She cracked a smile, "But it smells like a cave."

He disappeared momentarily outside and returned with his axe.

"What are you up to?"

"Just making a spot for my axe. Let's keep it here." He leaned it against the wall, adjusting it several times so that it was perfectly vertical.

"You sure like that axe."

"Yeah, beautiful isn't it?"

She shook her head. "You and your toys...your gun and now an axe." Her head quirked to the side. "By the way, what's today? Monday?"

"What does it matter?"

"I was just wondering, but you've got a point. It's just weird. It doesn't matter."

"It's October now. November, December, January, February, March...and by April it'll be spring, so if we have to, we should be able to easily walk out." He held up the fingers he had ticked off. "That's about six months. If we don't get out now before winter really hits, I guess there will be three of us come April."

He paused to let her digest the words. "Is that what you were thinking about?"

"My life has turned so upside down." She placed a hand on her abdomen. "So you really want this baby? I hope so. I don't."

It wasn't lost on Harry that this was the first time she'd referred to the life inside her as a baby, but he didn't point it out.

She continued. "Can I trust that you'll keep your side of the bargain? I don't want my parents to know. I'll just give you the baby and I'll disappear. No one has to know.

This sounded too simplistic and he had a blank reaction.

"Except the lawyers," she added.

Relieved at the suggestion of seriousness, he responded. "Yes Zoe, for as much as you don't, I very much do want this child. I've already accepted this child into my life." He stood straight and his tone was quite serious. "Trust me, nothing can change my mind."

Zoe looked relieved. He felt content that his words had this affect.

#

Zoe stared at Harry. Playing into him had created an illusion behind which she felt safe. He's so overbearing, she thought. Still, there's a likable side.

#

Harry spent the next day using his axe to chop firewood, accumulating a good supply. He also constructed a crude door to the cave. From the buck's hide, he made—admittedly—two small blankets and a simple sack to carry food.

Then she borrowed the axe so she could chop off the twigs from a long branch she found. She cleaned up the branch, removing the twigs to make it into a nice smooth pole. He hadn't cared that she was off working on this project of hers, but she didn't say anything about it.

He glanced a few times at the pole as he stacked firewood. Harry made sure Zoe saw him looking, but still she said nothing—offering only a smile. She toyed with him, dangling her project before a guy who must direct and approve of everything.

Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. "So, what's that going to be?"

"A clothes line." She eyed it critically. "I'm going to put it between those two trees. Their crotches—you know where the trunk splits into two branches—are just the right height. I'll just lay the pole in horizontally and hang the hides from it. It'll help air them out."

"We need to stretch the hides, but a good idea." Damn good one.

"Glad you approve, captain." She shook her head ever so slightly before she swung hard, whacking off the last twig and causing him to jump.

"Sorry," said Zoe. "Wanted to make my last whack count."

When the evening came, Harry sat around the fire. Zoe, who had still been outside putting notches in her pole, entered. She took off her coat and warmed her hands over the fire.

He frowned. "Where's the axe?"

"Outside."

He glanced at the bare spot against the cave wall and then back at her. He hoped she'd figured it out, but she didn't. "The axe goes in its corner. It shouldn't just be left outside."

"Why not?"

"Well, it—it might rain. It just goes in its corner."

Harry reflected on the words of his grandfather, which were repeated by his father, about the importance of putting tools promptly away. At the same time, he recalled how much it irritated him that his wife would happily leave the vacuum or a scissors exactly where ever she happened to finish using it.

"Oh, okaaay."

She put back on her coat, shoving her arms into it and went out to bring back the axe. She dropped it off in the corner, took off her coat, sat down and started warming her hands again.

The axe lay on the ground. He canted his eyes back and forth between the axe and Zoe then stood, and sat right back down.

Zoe cringed, her mouth half open. "Something else wrong?"

"It's lying on the ground."

"So?"

"It should be standing up."

"Does it matter?"

"Tools need respect."

Zoe opened both of her eyes wide and puffed out her cheeks, eventually breaking into a smile. She laughed. "You're one of those obsessive compulsive types, aren't you?"

He got up and leaned the axe upright. He didn't even turn around, but simply nodded. She quickly forgot about the axe and while they both ate dinner, began recalling the adventures of Robinson Crusoe.

"Do you think we might run into any unsavory types? Cannibals or mutineers?"

Harry cocked his head and looked at her through the corner of his eye. "Even worse."

Her gleeful expression evaporated and her eyes widened while Harry drew out the drama as long as he could. "We might encounter a band of lawyers."

"Yikes, I don't think we could - afford - to run into them."

He leaned back, thoroughly enjoying her shtick.

"Oh, wait." Harry stood. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Just keep eating without me." He left and returned a few minutes later with two skewers.

"Those look different."

"I made them up earlier. I thought I would surprise you."

She appraised the proffered gift. "What's that green stuff?"

"Don't ask. And don't ask what this stuff is either," he poked at an opaque, yellow substance. "It's all important."

"Listen, I'm going to be a doctor. Tell me."

He gave one of the skewers to her. "Oh, don't put it over the fire. You need to eat it raw, otherwise you lose the nutrients."

"Okay, okay. I'm eating it." She sniffed and then bit down with her front teeth, as if testing it. "But what is it?"

"If you insist. You can't live on meat alone. You need vitamin C, for example, to avoid scurvy." Harry lifted his own skewer in the air, then re-enforced his words by taking a bite.

"I know that." She took another bite herself, engaging her molars this time. "Don't worry, it tastes fine. What is it?"

"Well, it's not meat. It's other parts—raw liver, raw brains, fat, and other 'tasty' items."

Zoe seemed to force herself to swallow. She inhaled, filling her lungs to capacity, and then stuck her tongue out between her lips and blew out a most offensive sound. "I'd rather suck on a rock. Oh my god!"

He reached for the closest blanket. "Are you going to throw up?"

She jumped to her feet. "No, but it just hit me." She placed her hands together and then opened them as one does before making a revelation. "It's like we're zombies...eating the brains of the local inhabitants."

Harry smiled and gestured for her to sit back down. "Well, be a good zombie, and finish it up. After all, you're pregnant and need all the fat and brains you can get."

"Forgive me if I don't ask for seconds." She wiped at her mouth. "Damn, I think I'm going to have morning sickness."

"You mean evening sickness—gotcha." He let his chuckle subside. "Anyway, I'll be away tomorrow night scouting, maybe two. You should be fine here." He glanced over at his gun case. "I don't think I'll take it, less to carry. I'll leave it with you, okay?"

"Sure. I'll give it a hug if it gets lonely."

"Ha, ha. But if a wolf or cougar shows up, you'll be hugging it. I'll leave it loaded." He stood and fetched it. "Here, let me show you how to fire it."

"Do you think I'll really need it?"

"Unlikely, but better to be ready."

He motioned for her to stand. Picking up the gun, he placed it in her arms.

"The butt goes back against your shoulder." He adjusted the gun accordingly. "This arm steadies and aims." Harry gently took her left hand and placed it on the muzzle. "Shoot it with your other," whereby she lifted her right arm and put her finger on the trigger. "Before you fire, you have to release the safety. Look here." She leaned her head to the side and watched Harry. "We don't have that much ammunition, so we can't practice actually firing it. All it takes is a squeeze on the trigger."

She aimed and it went off.

Bang! The shot reverberated in the cave. The door had flown open a few inches, and for a moment looked like it would flop down.

"I said don't shoot it."

"What, I can't hear you."

Harry waited for the ringing in his own ears to die down.

"Don't shoot the gun. We don't have much ammo."

She dropped the barrel of the gun. "I didn't mean to. I was just seeing what the trigger felt like."

"Didn't your dad ever show you how to use a gun?"

"No, he's an attorney. We don't like guns."

"Fine. Threaten a wolf with a lawsuit."

She sent a look his way. "Well, I am glad that you are leaving it. It's comforting, for lots of reasons."

"Lots of reasons?" Harry put the gun back in its case.

"Well, yeah. There could be a big bad creature that wanders over. Plus it assures me that you are going to come back for me." She looked down, as if afraid she had revealed too much. "Besides, I can use it for target practice if I'm bored, but I promise not to shoot it. I'll just say 'bang, bang' and pretend that I got pretty close. And, it will remind me of you and I'll just feel less alone."

"That's a lot of reasons. I think you still don't quite trust me, but you're right young lady, I wouldn't abandon my baby."

All expression left her face, her body stiffened. He had meant the gun. She lifted it to hand it to him, looking away while waiting for him to take it.

"You see in my belly one of your children. I see a bunch of cells still a long way from thinking a thought, and these cells are on the way to screwing up my life."

"Having a child isn't bad," he said while reaching out and touching her stomach. "Just a complication."

She pushed his hand away." Yeah. Who stayed up late nursing your kids? Who stayed at home tending to their naps, changing diapers, trying to get them to stop crying? You?" She laughed. "I don't think so. I bet you were out building a career."

"You have family, don't you? What about your mother, or a sister, or an aunt? They'll help."

"But I have momentum now. I'm top in my class and on my way to Harvard. Everybody sees me as a winner. They're rooting for me." She shook her head. "But I know what happens when you have a baby."

He put his hand to his chin. "What do you mean?"

"You hit a brick wall. You lose your momentum. You become someone else." Zoe kicked a pebble against the wall. "I had a friend that got pregnant. This gal was smart and on her way." Grinding her foot on the floor, Zoe raised her eyes to meet Harry's. "Told her mom and her mom almost disowned her. She's now stuck living at home."

Finally, just kicking at the ground, Zoe proclaimed, "I don't need this."

"I don't think it has to be so dark. What about your boyfriend?"

"He's not ready to be a dad. He's still unsure about his major." She waved her hand in the air, as if batting off a fly. "Oh, it's easy for him to say that I should have the baby, and he will, but it's my life that goes to hell."

"But I said I would take the baby. It'll all be okay. You'll keep your promise, won't you?"

Harry had expected an immediate response, but nonetheless waited. "Yes, I'll keep the promise. I do what I have to."

"Good. I still think you are missing something, but I can't find the words."

A chill blew through the open door and Harry rose to shut it. "Hey, you sure nailed the door, at least now there's a nice hole for a handle."

"Should be, that's where I was aiming."

With the door shut, the fire's warmth returned and Zoe sat. "Much better."

The thread of their conversation had run thin. Time slowed until almost intolerable. "I'd like to be somewhere else—a break from here."

He scratched his beard, which was filling out beyond what he would normally allow. "We can't really go out. It's dark. No moon at all."

"I didn't mean that. Tell me a story. How did you meet your wife?"

#

Zoe wouldn't have told this to Harry, but hearing his voice was soothing.

"My first wife, or second wife?" he asked, settling in closer to the fire.

"Your first. Tell me about your first love."

"Well, I'd need to tell you about my motorcycle then."

"I was hoping for high heels, not wheels...but okay."

"You should have seen this motorcycle. My dad helped me buy it, used. I was in high school and over the years I built the bike up. By the time I went to college, it roared like a lion and could take a corner as if it were glued to the road. I kept it polished, pretty, you know."

From the way he took care of his primitive axe, she could make a good guess.

"One day I was sitting outside the dorm. It was a beautiful, warm autumn Friday, classes were over, and I was just shootin' the breeze with the guys. I was telling one fella about how you'd takeoff like a rocket when you hit the throttle. But he had this big grin. I asked him, 'Do you know what I mean?' He shook his head and laughed. So I told him, 'Watch this.' I strolled down the steps and fired her up. Everyone was watching. It jerked a bit as I positioned it in the center of the road. I yelled, 'Still don't believe me?' but I don't think he could hear me over the engine.

"So I hit the throttle and I shot out. I was gone in under a second and headed around the campus loop. Afterwards, one of the guys told me that everyone watched as I made my way around, down the east road, along the riverfront, and back through the west entrance. They couldn't see me, but they sure could hear. I had almost no muffler—it was a straight-tuned pipe. But when I reached the riverfront, I saw red lights flashing behind me. I flew back fast. When I slammed on my breaks in front of my dorm, I was panicked. I yelled to my friends 'The cops are coming.'"

"Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone at the women's dorm. She was motioning for me to follow her. She ran up the steps and opened her dorm's double doors. No time to think about it, I drove up the steps and through those doors. The whole damn building was shaking with my motorcycle running, so I killed the engine."

Zoe's mouth dropped open. "You've got to be kidding."

He shushed her. "Just listen. She walked me down the hall and I pushed the cycle, following her. I asked her if we were going to her room, but she said no. We continued down the hall. I started to feel this was a bad, bad idea. Then she stopped and opened a door. I pushed the bike in and she followed. It was a woman's shower."

Zoe was excited by the gutsiness of this gal—doing something she would never do, daring and out of bounds. She settled in for the remainder of the story, lying down with her hands behind her head. The fire's light danced around the cave's ceiling. Harry had paused. "Go on. I'm good."

"There was hardly an inch to move. We didn't make a noise, because the siren approached and then went quiet. The flashing lights shined through a high window in the shower, and they kept flashing. The cops were outside, but she smiled, even started giggling. Man, what a woman." He leaned his head back, a smile on his own face. "But she jumped when the door handle shook. She called out, 'Someone's in here.' The girl outside asked if she would be long. That's when she reached over and turned on the water. She told the girl she had just started. And there we stood, getting soaked, watching the flashing lights reflect on the bathroom walls."

"Wait. I want to see this." She shut her eyes and concentrated. "What color was your bike?"

"Red, of course."

"Was she short, medium, or tall?"

"She was tall, for a girl, and slender."

"What color was her hair?"

"Blonde. She had long blonde hair and blue eyes, just like a movie star. Her hair was dripping. We were both soaked."

With a better picture, she motioned him to continue. "Okay, what then?"

"It was twenty minutes before the campus officers gave up and drove away. Turning the water off, she opened the door quietly, poked her head out and gave me the all clear. I pushed the cycle out into the hall. We were both dripping. When I shut the bathroom door behind me, there was the girl who had rattled the door. She must have been waiting there all along and gazed at us, completely dumbfounded. We laughed, and got the heck out of there."

The story brought a smile to her lips. She'd never have guessed it about him, as straight-laced as he was. She ran her eyes from head to toe and tried to imagine Harry all those years ago. Just as with a good romance novel, she was enthralled by the purity of love and it being a safe distance from any reality.

"Is this really you? So wild?"

He looked around as if someone else might be listening, leaned over and whispered, "Not really. Turns out the police came by for something else and I wasn't really going that fast, but the loud muffler sure made it seem that way."

The fact that Harry was enjoying telling the story was more than evident in his relaxed position. He continued.

"There's more. I hid the bike in the middle of a bunch of others, which were parked in front of the dorm. Back across the street, my friends were laughing. I walked over to my new friend, who stood in a puddle of water, to tell her thanks. She smiled and darted back inside, shoes squishing with each step."

Harry grinned. "And that's how I met Pam."

"Your first wife?"

"First wife and first girlfriend. When we graduated, we married. Those were wonderful years." Harry ran his fingers through his hair. It struck Zoe that he was making himself presentable for Pam."

"Boy, I miss her," he said.

She picked up a small rock and walked over to a spot on the far wall that was pretty flat. She began sketching by scraping the small rock against the hard surface of the cave.

"I'm going to make a tribute to your story. You know, I am an artsy kind of gal. I love to draw." She drew a guy with big eyes and a determined look. "This is you."

Next she drew a woman with long flowing hair and the motorcycle came last. "Here's Pam and your bike. And now for the final touch." She stood back for a moment, before drawing a huge showerhead, raining water down on the two figures.

"Looks like a cave drawing to me. Wait until the anthropologists find it. It will change history."

"No kidding. I can just see the headlines." He spanned his open hand in an arc across his face. "Cave drawings discovered. Early inhabitants had running water and motorcycles."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

She sat back down on her side of the cozy fire. "What happened to Pam?"

"Well, it was years later. We had had our three kids. It was our anniversary. We got a sitter and went to town. We lived a few miles from Grand Junction. We met up with some friends and partied—drinking, dancing and laughing late into the morning. Pam was full of life. I remember driving back but not much more." He sighed and took his time with the last few words. "I woke up the next morning. We were in our car."

She put a hand over her mouth.

"We had gone off the road. Hit a tree. I didn't wake up until morning. Pam didn't survive."

Zoe broke into tears. They flowed down her face like running water. She'd worked to calm herself but burst out with another round. Sniffling and wiping them away, she finally spoke.

"I'm so sorry."

"The police were suspicious, but it's a winding road. I wouldn't be the first to miss a turn. Still, I don't know if I caused the accident. I'd like to think not, but I don't know." He shrugged, but in his eyes, she caught the guilt he still carried with him. "I've had years to reflect on that night. I've asked why so many times I can't count them."

She got up and moved back to her drawing. She drew a face, a face that was talking, above everything. "Here's fate, up high directing things. She wiped away a lingering tear. "I think the picture's complete now."

"What about you?" Harry asked pointing at the drawing.

She pondered for a minute and then took the rock and drew. It was another woman looking at the rest of the scene. "This is me. Tonight, my story is one of looking at your story. You know, my boyfriend has the same flare for storytelling. I love that in him."

Zoe yawned—her eyelids had grown heavy.

"Tired?"

"Yeah. Time to call it a day."

"I guess I'll say good night Zoe."

"Good night to you too. And, so sorry about Pam."

#

In the middle of the night Harry woke. Zoe was calling out. In the flickering fire light it took a few seconds for him to see. She was having a bad dream. He reached over and gently shook her.

Her eyes opened just a crack. "Huh?" Then they closed and she drifted away.

He couldn't immediately go back to sleep, so he watched her peacefully breathe, her blanket moving up and down. Peaking out from under her blanket was a folded envelope. It must have fallen out of her pocket. He reached and pulled it out a bit further. Yes, it was an envelope and it wasn't sealed—he could see inside was a handwritten note. His eyes moved up to her head—still fast asleep—then back to the envelope. He reached to take it. It reminded him there was a lot he didn't know about her, but in the last second, he pushed it back under.

It bothered Harry what he had almost done. He tossed and turned until finally focusing on the fire's crackle, he drifted to sleep.

Chapter 5

Harry stirred and slowly opened his eyes. Through a crack in the door he could see only a wisp of blue and an absence of stars. Dawn was making its entrance. He rolled up his deer hide blanket then fetched the sack he had made to carry food. It was still plenty dark outside and he could only see by the fire's waning light. He took his knife from the gun case, stealing a quick look at his gun, which brought a smile to his face.

Zoe woke and opened her eyes. "Saying goodbye?"

"Yup. I need all the light I can get, so I've got to get going. But you can sleep more. I'll be back in a day or two. Stay close to the cave."

"I will. Be careful."

She sat up and the blanket slid away revealing the envelope. He glanced at it which was enough to draw her attention to it. She blushed, but he turned away before she could see that he was aware.

He walked over to the door giving them both time to regain composure. "Well, I'd better go."

He saw the last of the envelope burning in the fire.

"Just a note to my boyfriend, explaining my absence." She took a stick and poked at its ashes. "He was in Aspen skiing when I left. Didn't have time to mail it." Something felt wrong—why burn it? It appeared she had more to say. He waited.

"It was a white lie. Better that it's gone."

After gathering meat from their store, Harry headed down the valley. It was slow moving across the snow-covered terrain. He had hoped to arrive at some sign of civilization: a road, a cabin, power lines, something. By midday, he had descended to the valley's floor, which opened up to a large circular area miles across. Mountains surrounded the valley's rim, with two distinct passes, one on the southward side and the other northward. He paused to eat and look. The blowing wind howled, with only patches of small bushes and infrequent trees to offer resistance.

He finished eating and marked his location with a tall pile of stones. He decided to head to the top of the northward pass. It wasn't difficult to reach, but a slow and tiring slog. Hours went by and he hurried as the sun started to set. He wanted to see what lied beyond the pass, hoping to see signs of civilization. But when he finally reached the top, all he saw were more rugged mountains, blanketed in snow. Ahead was a dense and rough mountain chain sweeping from the north and tapering to the south. Without wasting a moment in despair or cursing a foul thought in frustration, though he wanted to, he accepted the obvious. He must return to the valley floor and check the other pass.

But that trek was left for the next day. The sky was overcast and the landscape had all but disappeared in darkness. He cleared a spot to sleep. He couldn't quite close his eyes. Something was nagging him.

If it took all of tomorrow to reach the southward pass, and another day to return, he would be gone three days. He wondered about Zoe. This would be longer than what he said, but he was here now. Tomorrow he might find a road or smoke rising from a cabin. He might hear a gunshot in the distance. He drifted to sleep excited with thoughts of what he might find.

The second day's hike began as the last stars disappeared in the early light. The sun rose and cast giant shadows from nearby mountains. With a stillness in the air, he listened to his own heavy breathing as he made his way down the slope toward the southward facing pass.

Between the two passes stood a tall mountain with a sheer face, which reminded him of the crash. However, this mountain was much the junior and tamer. The snow was not deep, but being alone—combined with the grandeur of the mountains—he felt insignificant, like an ant marching across an enormous crater.

As he climbed toward the southward pass, his pace increased as he got closer, and bit by bit he could finally see what was on the other side. This pass must lead back to civilization, he thought. He visualized the surprise on the face of the first person he encountered when he walked out of this forbidding place. He paused for moment, running his hands over his scraggly beard and sniffing his unwashed self. He was a mess. Letting out a big laugh, it echoed around him.

Pressing forward he approached the crest of the southward pass. His heart pounded. A broad, flat plain was revealed that extended as far as the eye could see. He scanned the panorama, looking for signs of people, but saw nothing except a sea of white. He dropped to his knees. For the first time today, his muscles ached and fatigue set in his joints.

Harry sat there, looking out. While he ate, he started to accept that another way out would have to be found. He noticed the first star announcing the evening sky and once again prepared to spend the night. The sun had about cast its last light across the plain. It was beautiful. With a clear night and no wind, he anticipated the drama of this white vastness yielding the show to a starry night's sky.

Searching for the moon on the horizon, he instead noticed something glistening in the distance. The sun was hitting it just right. He continued to watch it while the sun slipped away.

Some minutes passed, and suddenly it occurred to him that this glistening object was not, in fact, reflecting light. The sun had gone and the vastness turned dark. Yet this glistening light remained? He stared, afraid to even blink and let the light get away. Ten minutes passed. It was as if he and the light were building a trust, getting to know each other. It must be a farm, he thought. Picking up a couple of stones, he placed one near his blanket and the other a few feet away. He aligned them on the light.

"It's captured. I've got a way out." His chest swelled. "I've done it Zoe. I'm coming home Carol. Thank goodness."

He lay down, adjusting his position until the flickering light was right above the stones, dead center. He looked to the stars, finally free to think about his wife. Soon he would be in her arms. He thought about his kids, and about bringing his new baby home.

Carol had never gotten the chance to have children, and now she would. It was amazing how things could work out. He reminded himself that you just need faith.

Completely relaxed, he turned his head to again look at the light. He returned a smile to it, but noticed that it was no longer above the stones. It was a little to the right. That was weird. Re-aligning the stones with the light, he enjoyed a brief moment of relief, only to be followed by an alarming sense that something was wrong.

He watched exactly where the flickering light was in relation to a spot on one of the stones, and could see clearly that it was actually moving. It looked like a car, which meant there must be a road in the distance. Over the next hour the flickering light moved steadily across the horizon and disappeared. He wondered if it could have been a plane, but that was unlikely, flying so low. It must be a road, he thought.

The adrenaline seeped from his veins, but he was nonetheless content. Tentatively, he planned the next big steps, but trying not to think too far ahead. Nonetheless, it flashed through his head that Zoe may have the abortion. Perhaps he had presumed too much. Pushing back these lingering concerns, he shifted to thinking about the hike back—first things first. His eyes shut and he fell asleep.

Morning came, and no matter how much he tried, he couldn't see any road in the distance, though it had to be there.

It took, unexpectedly, the entire day to get off of the southward pass and return to the stone pile marker. He spent his third night there, and in the morning continued making his way back.

The elevation rose thousands of feet and he exerted himself to return before nightfall. He picked up the pace, not wanting to be gone a fourth night. He sensed that would be too much for Zoe. On the other hand she was probably patiently awaiting his return—after all, he was only one day late. As he got to the higher elevations, the forest became thicker and the snow deeper. He trudged along, taking note of the occasional rabbit and deer tracks.

When he reached the cave, he found the door had been left open. He poked his head in. The fire had died and it was dark. She was gone. His gun case lay open. Reaching down, he picked up his gun and stepped out into the light.

The few rounds he had left in the magazine had been fired. That's odd.

Sweat formed on Harry's brow and he took a deep breath to call for Zoe. However, before he could shout, she came running through the trees, panting hard.

A cougar closed in behind her.

"Shoot it! Shoot it!"

He tossed the gun to a surprised Zoe, going instead for his knife. She took the initiative and aimed the gun.

Didn't she remember she'd shot them all? "There are no bullets in it."

"Why not?"

"You tell me."

The cougar stopped its advance some ten yards away.

She peered at him over the barrel. "What are you going to do? Fight it with the knife?"

In a calm tone, Harry gave her direction. "Go in the cave and get me a bullet, but move slowly."

He kept focused on the cougar. Their eyes met, but then it turned and headed away.

The lack of immediate threat must have given Zoe the leave she needed to tear into him. "Where the hell have you been? The fire went out days ago. It was absolutely black in the cave. I shivered all night."

"Zoe, it's still out there. Stop yelling at me. Go get a bullet."

She cast a look over her shoulder. "Please you say?" She scoffed. "Please. So polite."

He beamed a you're-such-a-child grin at her. "Yes, please."

"I thought you had abandoned me."

"I wouldn't do that." He started to turn his head back to watch for the cougar but she again grabbed his attention.

"I worried. You're the tough guy." She let out a gusty breath. "Holy crap."

"Just go get me a damn bullet."

"The cougar's gone. I really don't want to figure out where your bullets are. I'll stand watch. How's that?"

"Get in the cave." He took the gun and headed in, but did so keeping Zoe in front of him and thus forcing her in. As he entered, he turned and glanced for the cougar. It wasn't there, but heard something move. He imagined it charging through the trees.

Could he fire before the animal tore into them? He hastily loaded a bullet. Peering out, he saw only snow outside. He listened, finger on the trigger. A minute went by.

Zoe startled him. "I told you, the cougar's gone." Her voice was loud and angry.

"It seemed it was stalking us."

She stepped forward to the front of the cave where he was standing.

"Fuck you!" she shouted.

Harry stepped back. Silhouetted against the entrance, Zoe was frightening.

"That's right. How dare you shove me. Fuck you!" she shouted again.

"I didn't shove you. I just wanted you out of harm's way."

"Where do you get off doing whatever you want?" She continued to shout.

"What I want?"

"Damn you!" Zoe kicked some dust at him. "And who are you to judge the reasons I want an abortion."

Harry felt intimidated and was about to take another step back, but instead moved slightly forward.

"You told me your reasons. I didn't ask."

"I don't trust men." Still intense, Zoe had at least stopped shouting. "You don't stick around."

It dawned on Harry that this was not about him abandoning her. "Is this about your boyfriend? Afraid he won't stick around?"

"My dad didn't stick around, deadbeat. Why would my boyfriend?" Zoe turned her back to Harry.

"Your boyfriend isn't your father. We're not all the same."

"Yeah. Right. Look at my mom."

"What about your mom?"

"My dad just walked out. Do you know how many times she told me how she got saddled with me? They couldn't give a hoot about me."

Harry waited and then a bit more before continuing. "I, give a hoot."

Zoe was breathing heavily, still facing away.

"And I don't feel saddled by you either."

Her breathing slowed.

"Zoe, what happened with your parents doesn't mean it will happen to you."

Still, she didn't say anything.

"All our lives are unique. Don't let past ghosts guide you differently."

Zoe had begun crying and Harry, with some lingering reservation, put his hand on her shoulder."

"I'm okay." Sniffling, she stepped outside.

She combed her hair back and straightened her coat. "Too bad you couldn't shoot the cougar. I'm sick of venison." She tugged at her ear.

"You need to take them seriously. They kill."

She stood looking out breathing deeply, apparently unmoved by his comment.

He put his arm around her shoulder. "I'm truly sorry I was late getting back."

"It hasn't been fun. The fire went out the second night."

Zoe turned and faced Harry. "I couldn't get the damn thing going again. The lighter wouldn't work and I waited all day for you. Where were you?" Rather than let him answer, she barreled ahead. "When it was getting dark, I took your gun and fired it a few times. Thought maybe you're lost. Well, really I was just hoping you would hear and hurry back."

Harry looked down, regretting his decision to extend his stay. She continued. "After it got dark, I crawled back into a totally black cave. It was freezing. I didn't sleep." Her glare suggested that this, too, was his fault. "In the morning, I waited. I waited all day. Eventually, I got really hungry, so I went over to our refrigerator-in-the-snow, and that's when I saw tracks. It must have been the cougar."

"We'll keep an eye out for it. It didn't find the food, did it?"

"No. But it found us."

He sighed. "I'll get the fire going."

They went into the cave and he fetched the lighter from the gun case. He too struggled to make it work—but after fiddling with it a bit, it finally did.

"Don't worry, there more in the case, in the bottom pocket."

Soon a roaring fire brought warmth and light to the cave.

"Where's the axe?"

She pointed. "Over there."

He frowned. "It's supposed to be in its corner, not over there."

The look she sent him reminded him of his teenaged son's look of anguish at the thought of picking up his bedroom. "Aww, come on."

In response, he kept his gaze steady on her, just like he had done with his son.

She went and picked up the axe, dropping it in the corner. Before he could open his mouth, she caught herself.

"I can't believe this."

She bent down and leaned it up against the wall. It pleased him to see his axe respectfully in its spot.

"You know, too much respect is bad for an axe."

He started seriously thinking about this while he left to fetch dinner from their store in the snow. Halfway there, he stopped. Zoe was teasing him. Wonder why?

On his return, he sat down next to her in front of the fire. "Burr. It's nice to be back."

He took stock of their cave as he warmed himself. The drawing on the wall had changed. "I see you worked some more on your drawing."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Are those all arrows sticking in me?"

She perked up and smiled. "I was really upset. Here, let me add the cougar. She jumped up, taking the rock, and added a growling cougar to the scene.

He took a bite of his dinner while admiring the whole picture. "I wonder what the archaeologists are going to think. Two women, a cougar, and some poor guy stuck full of arrows."

"Early cavewoman feminism." She settled back next to the fire. "So tell me, what did you find out there?"

Harry shifted a couple times how he was sitting. "No town, not even a cabin. That's for sure. But let me tell you about it in the morning. I'm exhausted." Harry hoped she wouldn't pester him for details. His experience playing poker told him now was not the time to show his hand. Thinking about how Zoe had burned her note some days ago, he also didn't want his own white lie.

He turned his eyes away and pondered how to continue. "I think I have a plan. I'll tell you in the morning. Right now, I'm zonked, time to sleep."

"Are we ever going to get out?" she whispered.

"Oh yeah." He rolled over. "Good night."

"Good night Harry. And I'm glad you are back."

Chapter 6

In the morning, Zoe woke to the sound of dripping water. That was strange. She got up to look around, discovering the drips were coming from the crack in the cave's ceiling, which acted as their chimney.

Harry woke and also noticed the drips. "I think it's melting snow from the fire." He went to look outside but couldn't open the door. He pushed hard and budged it a few inches.

Through the gap he saw nearly three feet of snow piled up, and it was still falling.

"It's a whopper of a snow storm. Look at it come down." He worked the door open and pushed aside the snow, clearing an area just in front of the cave. They stood in the entrance and watched. The limbs of the pine trees were covered and weighed down. It was a wet snow and turning to ice as the temperatures dropped.

"It's beautiful." She watched for a few more minutes before her brain circled around to what this could mean. "Can we get out?"

"I don't think so with all this snow. We're going to have to wait till it melts."

"You mean months?"

"There is plenty of game here. We can wait it out. It would be madness to do anything else."

"But what about your plan?" She paced back and forth.

"It'll have to wait."

He made it sound like there would be a 45-minute wait at his favorite restaurant instead of a months-long one.

"I'm going to have a baby out here. I don't want to." She started to cry.

Harry gave her a hug, which she accepted. "If I was sure that we could get out safely, if I knew what was ahead, I would give it a try."

"But surely you must've seen signs of people out there?" She stilled before pushing away from him. "Wait, I know what's going on. This is what you want. Damn."

"What I want doesn't matter. At this point, neither of us have a choice." He gave her a gentle press toward the cave. "Why don't you go back in and warm up."

She went inside, still crying, while he remained outside.

"There's a road out there, I think. I didn't actually see it, but I'm pretty sure it's there."

She wondered why didn't he mention that tidbit earlier. "Now you mention the road. Let's go as soon as the storm lets up."

He shook his head. "We've been lucky so far. Are you willing to die trying now that winter's here? How many times do you want to tempt chance?" His hands waved in the air. "This storm is fate telling us not to go."

That meant she would have to accept the reality of waiting out the winter—and having the baby.

"Seems fate has let you off the hook. No chance in hell of getting out in a couple days now." Zoe's head sagged downward and she let out a sigh.

"True. I'm grateful to this storm in that way. But it doesn't mean I caused the storm, and it doesn't mean I wouldn't have told you about the road."

"Are you saying you would have?"

"I really didn't want to—I'll be honest. Just let me focus on what I can do—help you have this baby and then get us out. There's no point in playing out the other possibilities."

The words of this conversation played over and over in her head. Something bothered her. A chill went through her when she realized that he might be saying what he needed to keep her out here. A sense of doubt flooded her about Harry's assessment.

Zoe marched right by Harry and into the snow. It was deep but she didn't sink too far. She walked away from the cave. Not too bad, she thought. Although each step involved punching a hole in the icy snow and pulling her foot out to move ahead, it worked. Delighted she proved Harry wrong, she spun around to announce her findings, but slipped. As she went down, one foot wedged in the rocks.

She screamed. The pain was excruciating.

Harry stepped forward and examined her. When he touched her ankle, she screamed again.

"You've broken it." He shook his head in apparent disbelief of what just happened.

The immediate pain subsided and Harry scooped her up into his arms, carrying her back inside. He put her down near the fire.

"Are you sure it's broken?"

"I don't know. Could be sprained. Either way, you're not going anywhere any time soon."

Zoe sighed and resigned herself to various realities: her ankle throbbed, it's going to be a hell of a long winter, and I'm really going to have a baby.

She straightened up. A baby, shit, her mind had hit overload. She went back to sleep.

When she woke, Harry was sitting in the cave admiring his axe. Avoiding what really bothered her, she took shelter in a more trivial thought.

"I'm so going to die of boredom."

"Oh," said Harry, "give me a few minutes to make sure our food isn't getting buried too deep." He smiled. "When I get back, I'll play you a song."

"Using what?" Had he now constructed some crude instrument while he'd been gone?

"I've got a harmonica. It's tucked away in the gun case." When Harry returned, he got it out and played for a while.

"I love those old classic songs." She shifted, grimacing. "It hurts. Can we move closer to the fire?"

"Sure."

"I wish I were home."

"Me too."

They sat silent for a few minutes. Perhaps Harry would regale her with another story about himself. "Tell me about your kids. You said you have three."

"That's right. Jennifer, my youngest, is an incredible kid, just starting high school. She's interested in everything, and easy to be around. Next is Sophie. She's about your age and studying to be a nurse. She's got a strong will. I think when she was four, she asked her mom, with all seriousness, why Pam got to make all the decisions. We had to give Sophie a lot of space, but she grew up just fine."

"What about your son?"

Harry poked a twig around the edges of the fire. "We had a falling out a while ago. Better not to open this door...I'll just get hurt all over again. He's got some growing up to do." He looked up at her. "How about you? Any brothers or sisters?"

"No. Just me. I've been center stage forever."

"Is that bad?"

"It can be too much. Mom gets involved in every decision, every detail. I love her, but I want to make my own choices. That's really hard for her to accept."

"Psychologists say that it's months for a newborn to understand that their mother is their own person. But, the truth is, takes an entire childhood, or more, for a parent to realize this of their children."

He rose up on one arm. "In fact, a friend of mine was sitting around a Thanksgiving dinner, listening to everyone doting on one of the granddaughters. They were predicting this intelligent three year-old would grow up to be a doctor. Another praised her coordination and said she should be a surgeon. My friend told me he leaned back and said that she might grow up to be a clown in a traveling circus." Harry smiled, clearly lost in his memory. "There was dead silence. He explained to them that you just don't know what kids will want to be, and you certainly can't control it."

"That's funny."

"He said they're still angry."

Harry shook his head then leaned forward and in a quiet voice, as if sharing a secret, said, "You just gotta love kids for who they are."

"It's like I'm always disappointing mom when I disagree. It's not that I don't care, but I need to be me. I know what I want."

She took a breath. "In fact, my mom was visiting before I left." Her voice had become louder. "We spent two days mostly arguing. Can you believe that?"

He started to comment but she cut him off. "I made it clear. I'm not listening to her."

"But are you always right?"

She lifted one shoulder. "No. But mom's always saying, 'See, wasn't it better this way?' I hate that. It wasn't my choice."

"There's only one problem with pushing away your parents to give yourself space."

"What's that?"

"What do you think?"

She didn't have to ponder long. "They finally learn to leave you alone."

"That's right, only one day you realize that you are alone."

She couldn't see that. "My mom's never going to change, or ever stop bugging me."

"I guess that's why we think of parents giving unconditional love and kids giving unconditional grief."

She laughed. "I'm not that bad."

"We're all that bad. Its amazing parents survive."

Zoe looked toward the door. "I bet they're worried sick."

"Worse, I'm afraid." He started poking at the fire again with the stick. "Our families are probably wondering if we are alive."

#

Harry spent hours most days gathering and chopping wood. On the few days that temperatures dropped, particularly below freezing, firewood was as essential as food.

Once her sprain healed, he asked Zoe to pick pinecones from the surrounding forest to broaden their diet. After she placed them in the sun for a few days, it was easy to smash the cones and separate out the nuts. She enthusiastically took on this new job.

Although she collected a huge pile of nuts during the day, opening them up was tedious, so they did this together. One by one, they tapped and cracked open the shells to get at the seeds. These they dropped into his collapsible cup, and when full it went into the fire. Their roasting gave off a wonderful aroma.

Harry loved to hunt. This was when he felt he was at his best. Sometimes he bagged a deer or an elk. Otherwise it was at least a squirrel or two, but he would trap them in a hole—couldn't waste the ammo on something small.

Zoe had become an expert on preparing and storing the meat. She also spent hours making additional blankets from the hides. This included a few special, infant-sized ones. There were lots of tricks to surviving in the wild. He knew the tricks and appreciated that Zoe was a quick learner.

After a few months Zoe was noticeably pregnant and waddled around, reaching out now and then for balance. During one such time, he watched in amusement.

"You know, they call me the electric eel when I'm dancing." She showed in slow motion one of her moves, swinging her hips from one side to the other.

She'd hardly begun before she tipped. He grabbed her, helping her sit down. "I'm sure they do. But not today."

She chuckled then went completely still. "Oh my!"

"What?" His mind went to the worst-case scenario—she's giving birth.

"The baby moved. A real kick." Her hand spanned her stomach. "It happened again. Put your hand here."

Relieved, Harry still felt a little uncomfortable with the invitation, but also sensed a precious moment. He tentatively extended his hand which she took and guided it to her belly. Without missing a beat, she continued reminiscing.

"I miss dancing. We'd hit the Maple Street Bar every weekend and dance up a storm."

"We?"

"My boyfriend and I. He's king on the dance floor—sometimes it's like some alien creature got inside him and was trying to get out...his arms and legs flailing all around, but with perfect rhythm and spewing energy right and left. I love watching him."

Just then, her stomach moved, pushing against his palm. "Hey, I felt the little guy." He thought about his own children and their first kicks from inside—how he'd joke with his wife that their personalities were already showing up.

"We were hot stuff on campus. I miss him. I miss his calming way. It balanced my over-the-top everything."

He lifted his hand. "Sounds like a great kid—even a bit like mine. Does he get along with his dad?"

"Wouldn't imagine why not, if he had one. His dad died, long time ago. In fact, when we met I think we hit it off in part because of this. He yearned to be connected. It was so obvious, he'd open up to anyone." She touched Harry on the shoulder. "Maybe one day you can fix things up with your son."

Harry looked down. "I don't know. My son's got big issues." Harry's eyes rose, his face pained, and he gazed right by Zoe. "I just can't seem to tell him anything. The harder I try the less he hears."

"Harry," she touched his cheek to get his attention, "you can't tell, you need to show."

Harry cleared his throat. "I've cruised by his place now and then hoping to see him, but couldn't bring myself to stop. Your boyfriend sounds much better...like he has his act together."

Saying these words apparently helped Harry relax. The tension in his body eased. He winked at her. "After all, he caught you."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. He's fun, but still waiting for him to grow up. You know, become marriage material."

"I wonder if I ever drove past you guys. Your dance hangout is just up the road from my son's apartment."

"In Grand Junction, everything is just up the road."

"True enough." He got up and put on his coat. "I'm heading out. See if I can catch something special for dinner."

"Squirrel on a stick again?"

"Probably. By the way, that little guy, or gal, is going to need a name. Something to think about."

"Yeah, in due time." She lifted her index finger, as if to say she wanted a moment of his time. "Hey, before you go, I don't know about you, but I need to clean up. Really need a bath."

He didn't see what he could do, but he played along. "Okay."

"I'm serious. I need some warm water."

"Okay." He pondered a bit—then got his collapsible cup from the gun case. He stepped outside and returned with it filled with snow. Placing it almost in the fire, they both watched as the snow turned to water.

"That's a pretty small bathtub. I'm staying somewhere else next time."

Her deadpanned sarcasm elicited a gusty laugh from deep within him as he made his way out the door.

#

More months passed, and Zoe noticed her own increasing girth and inability to get around. Anticipating her delivery, she knew that they need warm water—more than a cupful. She made this clear to Harry.

Outside, there was a small creek fed by the now melting snow. His first attempt involved a crude wooden bowl fashioned with his axe. He hung it above the fire, but it eventually went up in flames and spilled. This failed event, however, led Harry to his second idea. He noticed the spilled water had settled in a low spot in floor...a natural large bowl. He filled this indentation from the creek. Placing hot rocks in it yielded a nice, pool of warm water in about ten minutes.

She was delighted. She shooed Harry from the cave and took her time taking a proper bath in the warm puddle of water. Just like a kid playing in a bathtub, she discovered she could push the water with her arm and get a wave to splash over the indentation, naturally draining out the door. A little work and the dirty water was gone.

"What's this mess out here?" Harry had returned and found the water pooled just outside the cave. He opened the door and looked. "Clever."

It was early April and warm winds whistled through the trees. She felt ready—as ready as one could be in their circumstances.

It was the middle of the night when her belly seized in a foreign way, causing her to move around and inadvertently wake Harry. A warmth oozed between her legs and her eyes widened. It was happening.

"My water broke and I think I've had my first contraction."

"Oh my."

She pinned him down with an accusatory glare. "I thought you've been through this a few times?"

"Well, yes, but each time, it's, 'oh my.'"

"You'd better start warming some water."

"I'll put some rocks in the fire. For my first child, Pam was in labor over a day. It's going be a while. Best to just relax." He already moved to do her bidding. "By the way, I've got a surprise for you."

The rocks now placed in the fire, he went to his coat and pulled out a small bar of soap. "I've been saving this for today. It's from the plane's first aid kit."

The little bar of soap, no bigger than something a hotel would put out, looked heavenly. "That's nice...I mean it." Her stomach constricted again and she squeezed her eyes shut against the discomfort. "Can you sing me a lullaby?"

"Sure."

Zoe knew he was secretly pleased at her request, even though he used a casual tone. He had made a habit of singing to her—well, to the baby—before they turned in for the night. She'd grown accustomed to this little ritual.

This night, Harry tucked in her blanket. He got out his harmonica and alternated between playing and singing. He rubbed her belly every once in a while, and she drifted off.

#

Harry's eyes popped open when he heard Zoe yell. "Oh, that hurts."

It was morning and it was obvious to him that her contractions were more painful and coming frequently.

"Let me hold your hand." She flapped her arm in his direction. "I need your hand."

Her newfound aggressive tone startled him. He quickly reached to take her hand. She squeezed so hard that he fought to not yell himself. When the contraction passed, he took back his hand.

Moving his fingers to help regain circulation, he smiled. "Your doing great."

"Oh shut up." She stared hard across the room. "Here comes another one. Shit!"

"Take deep breaths. Push hard in between each contraction."

"Are you, some kind of doctor now?" She moaned loud enough to make him wince.

"I just remember this part."

"I. Need. Your. Hand. Please. Hold my hand." She didn't wait but grabbed Harry's hand. Panting, and after few moments, she grimaced, squeezing hard. All her pain was focused in her clenching grip."

"When did you get this superhuman strength?" She looked toward Harry who was cringing, and let up.

Harry caught a breath of relief and then yelled, "Push Zoe, push! It won't be long."

Catching her own reprieve between contractions, Zoe collected her energy and reminded Harry how to deliver the baby, not just cheerlead.

"I need help. My pants...slip them off. Tell me when you can see the baby's head."

Intellectually he'd known that it would come to this, but having to actually perform this duty made him hesitate.

"Damn it, Harry. It's show time." she snarled at him. "Screw feeling awkward."

Again, she managed to catch a moment of composure. "It's okay. We are really going to know each other after this."

"Can you lift up a little?" When she complied, he tugged at her pants. "There, they're off."

She exhaled, as if she had used all her energy. "Here's the drill. Right now, I'm not pushing. I'm just trying to control my breathing. I'm waiting for the baby's head to appear before I push. So stop telling me to push." She threw her head back, her face contorted with pain. "Aaah. Another contraction."

She seemed to concentrate, trying to let the pain pass. Her breathing was loud and it appeared she was trying to keep it steady.

"Sorry, guess I just thought I knew what to do. I'll heat up the water."

As he did so, she threw out a slew of instructions to him.

"Good. Remember, wash up before you touch the baby. Lots of soap. And don't pull the baby. Let it come out naturally. You could cause nerve damage if you pull. Also, if you see the feet first, tell me. That's a breech birth, which is more complica—oh, another one's coming."

He moved some hot stones into the water and stirred. Her breathing intensified and he looked at her. She shut her eyes and grimaced through another contraction.

He suddenly remembered to check for the head. Was it there? He looked closely. "Zoe. It's coming. The head."

Another contraction hit. Zoe's face turned red as she pushed with all her might. She screamed out swear words as if possessed by a mad devil.

He tried to keep calm. He scrambled to move more rocks from the fire into the pool of water. They hissed upon entrance, steam billowing into the cave.

He leaned over her. "The head's coming out."

Zoe looked up. "God, what an insane way—"

She shook as another blinding wave of pain pierced her, but this time, she was waiting. Her body tightened and everything went into the push. Everything. He couldn't help but be amazed at what a woman's body could do.

"I see more of the baby's head. Head's out."

Zoe screamed, her features pinched and contorted so that she didn't even look like herself.

Harry had been helping to support the baby's head, but now repositioned himself, ready to receive the baby. He expected it to pop out at any time.

There was another long, exhausting, and drawn-out push. Her moans bellowed with an unnatural, unnerving tone. Something was wrong—the baby should have popped out. What if it was stuck? His confidence slipped faster than they had slid down the mountain after the avalanche.

In his mind things appeared to had turned chaotic. Zoe was gone, taken by the pain and agony. In her place was a screaming woman. He was disoriented and unsure.

But then his confidence snapped back, memories of his own children's birth flashed by and gave him a relieving sense of déjà vu. He remembered—there's more. The shoulders have to appear.

"Another big push. Come on, Zoe."

"Not again. I'm tired...not again."

"You're almost there. One more. You can do it."

He tested the water. It was warm. With the next contraction, she screamed out and put all she had into yet another push. The shoulders appeared.

Suddenly, the baby slid gently into his hands. He took a long look. It was a beautiful baby girl. He cleaned her up, noticing her delicate and soft skin. He counted her fingers aloud and then toes. With a huge smile he confirmed they were all there.

"You did it. It's a girl." She wiggled in his grasp. "Damn, she's a slippery little gal."

Zoe was panting. "Gads, it's...like I...just pushed...a basketball...through a straw." She took a huge gulp of air. "Oh boy."

Still a little out of breath, Zoe gave more instructions. "Can you slide up my shirt, and put her facedown on my belly?" She tried to peer around to watch. "Is she breathing? Make sure there's no fluid in her mouth."

With the warm crackling fire in the background, they listened and watched. The baby girl laid still connected to her mom through the umbilical cord. She let out a few faint cries and opened her eyes.

Zoe strained to raise her head and look. Her baby rose and fell on her undulating belly. She watched her daughter extend her arm. Zoe smiled and kept her head lifted as long as she could.

"Harry, can you wash my hands for me?"

"Sure." He nodded, filled his cup with some warm water and brought over with him the soap.

"Thanks."

Zoe shook her hands dry and strained again to see, this time touching the baby's closed hand with her index finger. She moved her finger in a circular pattern, teasing open the little fingers. Her daughter looked at Zoe and then squeezed her index finger. Zoe rested her head back down, both smiling but at the same time, teary eyed.

The little squeeze also moved Harry, and out came a wide grin on his old unshaven face. "Should I cut the umbilical cord?"

"No, not yet." Zoe blinked to clear her watery eyes. "Feel the cord. Still a pulse?"

He lifted the thick ligature and closed his hands around it. Her life-giving blood still flowed through it. Amazing. "Yes, I feel it."

"You need to wait until the pulse stops. In the meantime, take the shoelaces out of my shoes. Also, you'll need your knife, but clean it with soap thoroughly, and heat it up. It must be sterile."

A few minutes passed, during which Harry cleaned his hands yet again. He then touched the baby, her eyes opening wide at the new experience, and he ran his fingers from her head to her toes.

He checked the cord again. "The pulse is gone. What's next?"

"Tie one shoelace about three inches away from her, and the other, two inches away."

She cradled the baby, covered in one of the infant blanket hides, as Harry tied the shoelaces.

"Ready."

"Now take your knife—is it clean?" He nodded. "Cut the cord in between the shoelaces." He must have looked panicked, because she reassured him that neither she nor the baby would feel it.

Slicing through the cord still spiked his adrenaline. "Whoa."

"We need to wait for the placenta to come out. Maybe another twenty minutes." She glanced down at the baby, who was looking back at her with big eyes. Zoe caressed her ears and cheeks. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Very."

After the placenta passed, he cleaned up.

He was about to move Zoe and her baby to a fresh spot in the cave, but she interrupted in a soft voice. "I need help."

He waited for further instructions standing ready to do what's next. Her next words paralyzed him. "I need a way to clean, down there."

He stood like a statue. That was not part of workshop cleanup routine.

She waited while he digested the situation. He gulped and then took his knife and cut a small piece of cloth from the bottom of his shirt. He dipped it in the warm water, lathered it with soap and placed the cloth in her hand. He turned and waited. Zoe signaled she was done and without further ado, he moved them.

The baby started fussing, and Zoe attempted to comfort her with gentle strokes, but it didn't help.

"Maybe she's hungry?" Harry offered.

"Huh, I didn't think of that." She laughed, while already moving to lift her shirt.

He looked away. "I remember this too."

He recalled his wife for the first time sliding their daughter up and her latching on.

The infant was quickly soothed. Having nursed for a few minutes, she then fell asleep. He reached over and covered them both with the blankets.

"You've done it."

She rubbed the back of the infant's petite frame.

"And she is so beautiful." He chuckled. "I know, I've said that."

"You know, when I went into labor, I was like, uh oh. No hospital, no doctors or nurses, not even a grocery store for band-aids or formula. I thought, how are we going to do this? But here she is."

She turned her head and closed her eyes, but continued to gently stroke her daughter. He watched.

"I thought I knew what it was to give birth, but being here, just me helping you do this." He paused, searching for the next words. "It is truly one life forging another, until it is two."

There was a long pause. His thoughts then returned to the practical—better go outside and fetch more firewood.

"I still want you to take her." Zoe eyes remained shut. "Okay?"

Relief and disappointment warred within him. "I thought you might change your mind. You've been through a lot."

"No. Nothing's changed, but it's important to me that you take her." She looked at him. "Okay?"

She seemed truly sincere.

"Of course," he soothed. "She's beautiful."

#

"We need to make a list," pronounced Zoe.

Over the last few days, Zoe and Harry had kicked around various names. The search proved futile. The day had arrived when she felt too much time was going by. A name was needed.

"As you wish. There's a pen in the gun case. There's also an envelope in there. You can write on it."

She got them out and held up the envelope. It was blank on both sides. "That's handy."

"Just someone I was going to stay with in Denver. Someone Carol knows."

Harry was holding the baby in his arms, moving his torso back and forth. He did his best to rock the sleepy child. They began yet another brainstorming session, agreeing that this would be the final discussion and that they'd quit only when they arrived at her name.

"I've tossed out every name I know. You never like any of them."

"They just don't resonate."

He sighed. "By the way, how's she doing?"

She glanced at the most perfect face she'd ever seen, nuzzled into Harry's chest. New feelings stirred deep inside, feelings she pushed away.

"She's asleep."

"Let's just name her 'She.' I'm sort of getting used to it," said Harry.

"Come on, another name."

Harry stroked his shaggy beard into a point. "Gertrude."

She jotted it down and immediately crossed it out.

"Next."

"Maybe the problem is that you need meaning behind the name. How about naming her after your mother?"

"Yikes. That'd be creepy."

"How about a character from a movie. Did you like Thelma and Louise?"

"Right. Two messed up women that drive themselves over a cliff."

She glanced at her little girl. "I should just sign her up for therapy now."

"Okay, don't add them." He waved a hand in the air. "Name a movie that spoke to you, that warmed your heart." He snickered. "My turn to shoot 'em down."

"Hmmm. I liked the Russian poet Yuri—an idealist—in Doctor Zhivago. He and Lara had a perfect love."

He snapped his fingers. "I know the movie. I watched it with Pam. She cried buckets of tears. I remember their longing to simply spend time near each other." He nodded as he spoke. "Love is when a moment away seems like such a long, long time. There was one scene in particular, when they touched and fell into a passionate embrace. I was holding Pam in my arms. I'll always remember it."

She appraised him with something like shock. "Harry, you really have a romantic streak." Her open mouthed turned upward. "I want that for my daughter. Lara it is."

She wrote it down and circled the choice.

"Sounds too Russian," he said.

"Well then...Laura."

"And so it is." This time he took the stone, adding Laura's name to their cave drawing, letter by letter.

Chapter 7

Harry sat stoking the fire early one morning. He had had a bad dream and though groggy, could not get back to sleep. The fire had dwindled and he reached for another log, setting it on top. This woke Zoe, who rubbed her eyes and immediately leaned over to check on Laura. She was still fast asleep.

"Have you been up for a while?" she asked.

"Yeah. Had a bad dream and then couldn't sleep."

"Do you want to talk?"

"No, no." He shook his head. But after a moment, went on anyway. "I dreamt about Scott. Nothing special, but it woke me. I was thinking that he deserved a proper burial. I don't want to just leave him out there."

"There? You know where the wreck is?"

"Maybe. When I was out hunting I came to rocky area...I mean huge boulders, and looked up. I think I saw the ledge where we crashed."

"Did you see the plane?" Her voice was soft.

"No. Hardly. I couldn't get a good view. Imagine a pile of boulders each the size of a house, covered with snow and ice. It didn't even dawn on me to try to descend into that, but this morning after the dream, I can't stop thinking I should."

"Aww Harry, I know how much Scott meant to you, but don't."

He hadn't expected an objection, so he waited for further explanation.

"Don't you get it. Look at Laura." She took a moment to glance at the baby herself. "Look at me. If you got hurt, what do you think would happen to us?"

"I'd be careful, but I think I have to try." Harry turned to the door with the morning light now streaming through.

"You can't." Zoe said, her voice cracking. "You have an obligation." Her chin jutted out. "That's right. An obligation. To us." The ruckus awakened Laura and she started crying.

"I will not be told what I can and cannot do." He got up and marched to the door. Zoe picked up Laura, trying to comfort her. Harry took the opportunity and ducked out.

It wasn't long before he found himself in a dense wood, the boulder area lying just ahead. Something inside called on him to stop. The wind howled and he glanced up to the towering snow covered mountain.

Suddenly, he heard something. He took a step back. Adrenalin shot through his veins and his every sense was heightened. He heard it again, and he took two more steps back, turned and with haste, hiked back.

Opening the door, he entered the cave. Zoe was still at the fire, nursing and didn't acknowledge him. He sat down where he had started. Finally, she looked up and glared. However, he was in no mood to argue.

"What happened? Looks like you saw a ghost."

"I heard a voice." He adjusted his coat. "I wasn't sure at first, but I heard it twice."

"A voice?"

"Yes," he said in a breaking voice. "It was Scott."

"He's alive?" Zoe looked ready to jump to her feet.

Harry turned to her, shaking his head. "The wind was howling. I had stopped, debating whether I should try to bury Scott. Then the wind died down. I heard Scott say 'no', as clearly as you hear me now. I almost peed in my pants, but then doubted it. I heard him again, that's when I came back." His shoulders slumped and his eyes shifted to Laura's face. "You're right. Scott reminded me—you guys are what matter. You don't pick your obligations, you're handed them."

#

Zoe had awakened but not yet opened her eyes. So many weeks had gone by, she had stopped counting them. Nonetheless, an excitement was brewing. The days had gotten increasingly longer and spring was in the air: melting snow, birds chirping, buds on the trees. The memory and physical toll of giving birth was fading.

Hearing Harry open the door, she got up and walked over. It had happened. Freedom had arrived. The deep snow was mostly gone.

Harry was the first to put it into words. "We can leave, any time."

Zoe turned and hugged him.

Without allowing another minute to pass, she went back and laid out a carrying pouch for Laura. She had made recently from one of the blankets. Though this day had been anticipated, she found herself shaking with glee at the thought of actually going home.

Harry too, she knew, was especially excited. He had begun repeatedly describing with great heart the day he would bring Laura home. It always choked him up—and Zoe, too, if she were willing to admit it.

He knelt over Laura, where she kicked her legs under a blanket. "Carol will love you as if you were her own, and I have already loved you for..." He looked away searching. "For...well, certainly before you were born. Before I sang my first lullaby to you, before I first felt you inside your mother's belly. I guess I started loving you from the moment you needed me. And it has only grown stronger."

He reached down, stroking Laura's soft face and few strands of hair, and peered into her eyes. Zoe watched, unable to look away. "Is it okay, Laura, if I love you, so very, very much?"

The next morning, all packed up, they said goodbye to this home of theirs.

Zoe had Laura nestled in her carrying pouch. "I'm a little sad about leaving. Never thought I would be."

Harry glanced at the sheer face of the mountain that towered over them. "Imagine, we started way up there."

Laura hiccupped, and Harry reached over and wiggled her nose.

"That should fix it," Zoe said, smoothing her own hand over Laura's face.

"Shall we start out?"

"Wait a minute." She poked her head in the cave. "Click. Just taking a mental picture." She was about to join him when she whirled back to the cave. "We almost forgot."

She came back with Harry's axe.

"Um, it's heavy. And I don't think we're going to need it. Why don't you just put it back. And hey, lean it up nicely."

Zoe looked hard at the axe, cracked a smile and hurled it off into the woods. She stood there ready to argue about tossing it—something she had longed to do more than once.

When he didn't respond, no doubt wanting to get out of there as much as she did, she grinned broadly. "Ready. Lead the way."

So with Harry carrying the food and his gun, and Zoe toting Laura, they headed down along the creek outside their cave. The sky was clear and the trees were budding. She took energetic steps, big steps, with a beaming smile, and a constant loving eye on her daughter. They followed the winding creek, its gurgling and bubbling sounds making for a pleasant background.

Zoe turned around to take one last look at the grand mountain. Something moved. "There's the cougar. Up there—between the trees."

"He dropped the food and shouldered his gun. "I'll get it."

"Harry, it lives here." She'd never have pointed it out if she thought he'd just kill it. "Let's just wish it well and say goodbye."

"It's a predator. You've seen too many Disney movies."

She made a pleading face, which prompted him to lower his weapon.

"Okay, fine."

They walked on.

"It's great not having to trudge through snow," said Harry.

Zoe contemplated the seasons. "What day is it?"

"I have no idea."

"We need to keep track of the days, so we can eventually figure out Laura's birthday."

"Right now, she's fifteen days old. I've been keeping track." He paused to show her the side of his gun case. "See, for each day, I add a mark along the edge of my gun case."

Her jaw unhinged. "I can't believe it. You're scratching up your gun case."

"Yeah, I guess I am." Harry's brow's came together in a bushy V. "These scratches for each of Laura's first days are special."

"I see a family heirloom."

They walked several more yards before Zoe spoke. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Why didn't you have children with Carol? It sounds like that's been a huge hole for her."

"It has."

They continued walking and she waited for a response.

"It's a beautiful blue sky, the sun shining and there's Laura, looking around with those big eyes of hers."

They hiked across a rockslide, which slowed them down.

"Guess there's not much you don't know at this point."

The time had apparently allowed Harry to ease into another one of his stories that she loved to hear.

"Carol's a wonderful gal. I'm truly blessed. And, though we never discussed it, I assumed we might have a child or two. My kids were almost out of the house and it would have been like a second family. But, turns out Carol picked me for a reason...I already had kids, and they're close with her. She can't have children. I'm sure something happened to her. She won't talk about it, but underneath I know it's distressing. I have my theories, but I don't really know."

Zoe was torn between suggesting she should seek help or encourage Harry to respect her privacy. It was an uncomfortable feeling for her, not knowing what to say.

"You're young, Zoe, and when you're young, everything seems fixable. It's not until you get older that you understand that there are just some things no one can fix."

She glanced down at Laura, the seriousness of the moment dissipating with the sight of her little face.

Harry continued. "Things have worked out in unexpected ways. I know what Laura will mean for Carol. You see, there is a lot to be happy for today."

Zoe hadn't taken her eyes off Laura, Harry's words bouncing off without much thought.

As they walked, they found themselves squeezed between a rock wall that had risen up to their right and the creek on their left. The creek was shallow but wide, and its banks were soft and muddy.

"We have to cross over."

Zoe stepped toward the creek but began to sink in the mud, and jumped back. "Argh."

"Better take'm off."

Harry first tossed his across the stream. She then handed him her shoes and with another good toss, they also landed safely on dry ground.

He stepped forward and gestured for Laura.

She resisted the urge to argue that she was capable of taking Laura across, but opted to let Harry enjoy a moment being a man. With Laura in his arms, he took the next step into the creek. She heard his gulp, as the water was freezing. Nonetheless, he worked his way across, stepping around the large rocks lying in the creek.

"Wow, was that cold."

"Watch out, here I come," shouted Zoe.

She slugged through the muddy bank. However, as she reached the water, the burst of youthful energy and the warm sunshine got the best of her. With the springiness of a fawn, she stepped up and then hopped from one large rock to the next, zigzagging her way to the other side. She stood on the last rock. She had been carrying her winter gear, and for whatever reason, decided to toss it over for the final leg. With Harry and Laura watching, she heaved it into the air, landing it, plop at Harry's feet.

Zoe smiled at this playful victory, but it was short-lived. Gravity gained the upper hand, and doing a kind of comical dance, she flapped her arms in a failing attempt to steady herself.

As if landing thud face down in the mud wasn't bad enough, getting up only made things worse—her arms and legs sunk further in. She walked the final few feet completely covered in thick gooey yuck.

"Don't even think about laughing." She couldn't hold back either, and both of them broke into uncontrollable laughter.

"Just wash off in the stream."

"Are you kidding? I'll turn into an ice cube."

"I didn't mean you should take a bath. Just dab your hand in the water enough to get wet and clean off the mud." At her incredulous expression, he nodded. "Yup, it'll take time, but look at you. Your clothes, on the other hand, you should take off and rinse them in the flowing water. They'll dry off fast enough in this arid air."

She picked up on the idea but wanted to get away from the mud. It was hard to clean off mud while standing in it. Looking around she noticed that just ahead, the bank was level and solid rock. Somewhat skeptical that she could really clean up, she walked over and stood at the water's edge.

Leaning down, she passed her hand ever so slightly in the flowing water. Her hand immediately snapped up, anticipating the cold, but it was bearable and she tried again. The mud melted away from the bottom of her hand. Encouraged, she started on an arm. It wasn't so bad after all.

Turning to Harry, she gave him an approving nod. "Can you leave Laura? I'll wash her too. You know, it's the first time we really had running water."

Walking over, Zoe took Laura and returned back. Lying Laura on a flat rock and keeping her steady with one hand, Zoe moistened her fingers and rubbed across Laura's soft skin. It engaged Laura in a new sensation, her eyes anticipating each stroke.

"When I'm done I'll put her on my coat. Can you hand it to me?"

He brought it over and watched.

"Thanks. I'll be fine. Just need a few minutes."

Harry still stood there looking around.

"Harry. I've got to take my clothes off. Can you go away?"

His cheeks reddened above his beard. "Oh, silly me. Of course." Toting his gun, he marched thirty feet or so into the trees. Although he was facing away, she remained uncomfortable.

She yelled out. "Harry, I mean really away. So I can't see you."

He finally got the idea and headed into the trees. Relaxed, she finished washing Laura then gently placed her on her coat, using her winter hat as a blanket. Laura immediately began playfully squirming.

Zoe found a heavy, fallen branch and lugged it back to the water's edge. Standing it upright, she pushed it into the soft riverbed.

With one more scan of the woods, she assured herself that she was indeed alone. She started with her shirt. Taking it off and holding it tight with the tips of her fingers, she dipped it into the passing water. Unlike other faster sections, the current meandered by at this particular spot, and so the stream only occasionally hinted at carrying the shirt off.

Initially, dark muddy water flowed like paint, but then the mud would wash out. It reminded her of rinsing a paintbrush. She hung the shirt on the branch and its sleeves swayed in the breeze. She took off another item, and another, rinsing and hanging them on the branch until she finally was standing there naked.

It was a liberating moment, having been bundled up all winter. Next, she leaned down and worked on the remaining splats of mud, dissolving the crusty stuff away. Unfortunately, the tightness on her back, just below her shoulders, told her there was more.

Wanting to get it off, she lay with her back to the creek. Putting her weight on her elbows, she scooted forward. With most of her back hovering over the water, she dipped in to skim the mud off.

The water was chilly and by reflex, she thrust her legs up in a motion to get up. But she slipped. Splash, she went in, and then instantly sprang to her feet. At least I'm clean, she thought. She finished up while reminiscing about being home and that freshness she loved after taking a long, hot shower.

"Hey Laura, how'ya doing?" The clean air, the anticipation of going home, the chance to take a moment for her self and clean up—she was blissfully happy. But this ended abruptly.

The cougar was back. Adrenalin shot through Zoe's body. It strode toward Laura. Grabbing the heavy branch, she plucked it from the riverbed. She shook off the hanging clothes. The cougar took notice, but didn't slow its advance.

Zoe's body tensed. Taking two strong brisk steps, she placed herself between Laura and the cougar. She screamed for Harry; but no response. The cougar moved closer. She raised the branch, ready to strike. It growled and circled.

She yelled at it. "Get lost. Scram."

But the cat kept closing in. She yelled again, threatening it with feigning swings. But she didn't want to waste that first blow—it had to count.

Zoe didn't let the cougar find an opening to strike her unsuspecting daughter. She kept between them, matching the cougar's every move. With pounding rage, she stepped toward the cougar. It hissed. Clearly it wanted Laura, who was now whimpering. The cougar became even more aggressive, its movements driven by a fixation on helpless Laura.

Zoe stomped. This got the cougar's attention. It stopped, stepping back. She screamed for Harry again and again, not realizing the fear in her voice.

This wasn't missed by the cougar. Emboldened, it postured, ready to pounce. She couldn't wait—she grabbed the initiative. Letting loose a wild swing, she whacked the cougar on the side of the head. This knocked the animal over, but also the stick out of her hands.

The cougar recovered and got up. She was frozen, unable to step aside to retrieve the stick; she couldn't remove herself between Laura and the cougar's teeth. She grabbed a handful of sand and pebbles. Her eyes were pinned on the animal. She tried one last time to intimidate it, thrusting forward and raising her arms, all the while yelling at the top of her lungs.

The cougar leapt. She threw the sand causing the cougar to turn its head, but not before the cougar swiped her arm with its claws. With all her weight, Zoe pushed it aside mid-air, sending both of them tumbling to the ground. By the time she regained her orientation, the cougar was already charging.

It's over.

The last thing she'd hear would be Laura's cries. She lost the strength to even brace herself. The cougar flew onto her naked body, but then didn't move. There was a long silence punctuated by Laura's feverish pitched shrieks. Then, a strange sensation on her skin. Warmth, a liquid.

Blood!

Hers? The silence dragged on, while her mind raced to anticipate what was next. But nothing happened.

"Are you okay?" Harry ran over, panting, very much out of breath.

It all clicked. Harry had shot the cougar. A shot she hadn't heard over her own screaming.

"Just get Laura. I'm okay."

She pushed the dead animal off, though its tail was left still draped across her waist. She and Harry regained their composure. Finally she thought her legs would support her weight.

"Can you turn around?"

"Oh, sorry." He continued to coo at Laura, calming her.

She slid out from under the cougar's defeated tail and dragged herself over to the stream. Her arm was throbbing. Blood oozed out from five slits across her forearm.

"I'm hurt."

Harry momentarily glanced over. "You need to clean the wound. I'll get soap."

Still very much rattled, she again scooped water, gradually washing off the blood—both that of the cougar and her own. Harry soon arrived back, doing his best to look away without tripping. While holding Laura with one hand against his body, he handed to Zoe the last remaining piece of soap.

"Are the cuts deep?"

"No. Not too bad."

"Good. Let them dry in the sun and clot."

After gathering her damp clothes, she dressed and put on her shoes. Harry had been a little optimistic about the drying time.

He'd been biding his time, humming to Laura, and periodically succumbing to the urge to blurt out, "Damn. That was close."

After dressing, she walked to Harry. Still holding Laura with one arm, he hugged her with the other. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. They just held each other, letting all the stored-up fear and anxiety pass.

Then they left, hiking along the creek. The mood was business-like. It didn't matter that it was a beautiful day anymore.

It was time to get out.

Chapter 8

Harry cheered. It had taken until mid-afternoon, but they finally reached his stone pile.

"It's from my expedition before winter. It marked my path back to the cave."

Zoe's stomach growled. "Can we eat? I'm hungry."

"Sure, this is a good spot."

While they ate, he pointed and told of his climbing the northward and southward passes. He could see now that the stream they had followed emptied into a lake, centered in the valley.

"I didn't even know this lake was here. It was frozen, under the snow. That reminds me, we need water."

He took out and filled the plastic bag that had held the ammo, careful not to make it too heavy.

Hiking along the water's edge was a lot easier than up to the pass, where they huffed and puffed in the warm desert air. Harry turned at one point and much to his surprise, saw that Zoe had her coat unzipped and was walking along nursing.

"That's amazing."

"Come on, keep your eyes on the road."

That got him thinking. "The hard part when we find the road, is knowing which way to go."

"What do you mean?"

"The wrong way could just take us back into the middle of nowhere."

He wanted to turn and make sure he hadn't alarmed her, but realized it better to use more words.

"Actually, away from the mountains is probably the right direction." He hoped this was true, and got to think about it for another hour until they stepped up and onto the southward pass. The sun had just dipped below the horizon.

"This is about when I arrived last time. It seems trudging alone through snow is near as fast as a spring hike carrying a baby." He twisted around. "Hey Laura, how are you doing?"

"I think she's hungry again."

"Over here, this is where I slept."

Zoe was single-minded and didn't even glance to where he was pointing. Instead, she took a long, hard look out across the plains. "I don't see a road."

"I'm sure it's there, but a good distance out."

She regarded him. "How do you know it's there?"

"After it had gotten dark, when I was out here last time, I watched a car's headlights cross the horizon."

"Just one car?"

"Yeah. Just one. That's all that went by. And like now, I never could actually see the road. I wish I could," he said, more to himself than to her.

"It would be reassuring." Zoe scanned the camp area.

It was dark and stars were out in abundance. Laura started to fuss and Harry unraveled the blankets.

"It's cooling down. Can you keep Laura warm for a minute?"

"Sure."

Zoe had him take off his coat and she put it back on over his shoulders but without his arms in the sleeves.

"Here's Laura." She took Laura out of her carrying sack, the cold air causing Laura to open her eyes wide. Harry took her and Zoe zipped the coat over her, while he held her tiny body against his chest.

#

Zoe watched his ministrations, knowing that she had to talk to him; sooner than later, if she could only find the right moment.

"It's nice holding her, isn't it?"

"Yeah. She's so delicate."

Feeling the carrying sack would never be warm enough, Zoe thought to sleep with Laura on her chest, much like how Harry held her now. However, she figured it better if she removed her shirt ahead of time, so she could nurse.

"Don't look over here for a minute. Okay?"

He turned his head away and looked out over the moonlit plains. It was getting colder, so she worked quickly.

Now was as good as any time. "I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it?"

She pushed herself to just say it. "I—I want to keep Laura."

His head swiveled back to catch her kneeling, coat and shirt removed and her back to him. "What?"

"I know. I said I didn't want her." She held a hand over her engorged breasts, full of milk. "But I've changed my mind."

She clearly had stunned him, because he hadn't looked away even when she was exposed. Her voice broke. "I'm her mother."

She reached over, taking Laura and held her at her breast. Harry recovered enough to quickly zip up Zoe. She lay down, careful to allow fresh air in. He put a blanket over them.

Laura nursed and the tugging sensation comforted Zoe through the awkwardness of the conversation.

She bit her lip. "I've wanted to tell you for days. I just didn't know how."

He turned his head and looked into the darkness over the plains. "You're certainly her mother."

He cleared his throat, and Zoe braced for the rebut she expected. "You didn't even want to have her." He gestured out to where the road likely was. "If that was a busy highway out there, we'd have gotten out a long time ago."

"I know. And maybe she wouldn't be here now." Might as well be honest, she felt. "To tell you the truth, I resented you. It seemed too...convenient that it worked out that we had to stay the winter."

He sighed. "We had this discussion already."

"Yes we did. And you were right not to try." She hugged her baby close. "I didn't want Laura back then. But, we are here now. I love her. I know it doesn't make sense, and it isn't fair. But it doesn't have to be."

"What about your career? What if your boyfriend doesn't want to be a father?"

"Whoa. Many women raise their children alone. Most of them do just fine. In fact, many do better than the ones who have a man."

"I don't think so. Maybe for some this is true, but not most." His voice was hard, impassioned. "Two parents are better. Single moms, single dads,..."

He brought himself to an abrupt stop. Zoe could see his jaw working, which made it very difficult to say what she said next.

"I will do what I have to. Do you think I don't want a man in my life? My boyfriend has said he loves me, many times. I need that. But a family needs a man who has his act together." It was her turn to sigh. "We'll see."

Harry lay there, looking away, quiet.

"Are you angry?" After all he'd done for her and Laura, she did not want it to be like this between them.

"No. Sometimes you trust fate. Trust in what you believe. You do what you think is right. I felt the storm was a sign that you should have this child, and I should help you. This whole ordeal became more than just surviving. For me, it was to help a child into the world."

His voice choked up and he had to clear his throat. "I began to think how wonderful Laura would be for Carol. I felt like there was a grand plan, right down to Scott, in his final moments asking me to help you have this child. I'm sorry for Carol. In my mind I saw the joy in her face as I handed her a daughter." His chest heaved and he let out a jerky breath. "This hurts. It's disorienting. Something important I thought I had is gone."

"As you said, fate let you out of the choice of not trying to get out sooner. So I had to have Laura. But fate also let me out of knowing if I really would have ended my pregnancy."

"You mean Laura."

"Yes, Laura. But if it helps you, I am so grateful that I have this daughter of mine in my arms. I'm grateful to you, I'm grateful I didn't do something I would regret." She softened her tone to almost a whisper. "But I need you to let go."

He reacted strongly to that. "I don't know how to stop loving Laura. A child is not a cookie. You can't so simply take her back."

She wanted to reach out to touch his arm, but wasn't sure how he would receive the gesture. "You've done a lot. But this connection was created in your head. Yes, with help from me. But I am asking you, let go."

"There is something wrong in what you are saying, but you're right too. Sitting next to someone on a plane doesn't make a father. I'm not family."

He stood. "I think I need quiet. I'll watch for a while."

#

Harry lay awake for some time watching the stars twinkle above. A warm breeze came off the plains and he reflected, on how different a universe it was, than a night ago.

In the morning, he was putting another mark on his gun case when Zoe woke.

"That's sweet of you."

"I'll make a present of this case to Laura. Maybe it will remind her of me."

She yawned. "A reminder? If I have any say, you'll be in her life."

At first the words weren't comforting to him, but a reminder of the parent's "say" that he would no longer have in Laura's life. However, the thought of Zoe loving and raising her daughter gave him a sense of warmth. He was becoming more at peace with it all.

She picked up the case to take a close look and smiled. "Hmm." She traced a label riveted to its side. "I never noticed this before. It says H. J. Smith. Are you a Smith?"

"Sure am."

She stared at the label. "There are a lot of Smiths in the world."

"Sure are."

She continued tracing the Smith. "I know a few. Strange clan."

"Ha. What is your last name?"

"Sastre. It means tailor in Spanish."

"Sounds like an even stranger clan."

"Touché."

She took a long look at him and then set the case down. They packed and made their down the southward pass, then onto the plains. It was a slow but easy hike. The plains seemed to go forever.

They headed straight out, occasionally glancing back to the receding mountains to gauge their distance. As morning progressed, Zoe started shifting the pouch around. Sensing her arms must ache, he offered to take turns carrying Laura. For hours they plodded. Before they knew it, the afternoon had passed and dusk had made its appearance.

"I figure we're some twenty miles from the lake." He took a swig from his water bag. "Do you want some?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Let's spend the night here. We're only about another half-day's walk from the road. At least that's my guess."

"And what if we don't find it? What then?"

He didn't want to even contemplate it. But it was a fair question. "We'll have to turn back. We don't have enough water or food to go further."

"I don't want to go back. I'm not up to 'Cave Story, part two.'" She used finger quotations. "Crap. Can you hold Laura? I've got to piss."

"Sometimes you just sound like one of the guys."

She wandered away, but then called out.

He followed.

"What's this doing here?"

He looked. Even in the dim light, they were obviously railroad ties. They explored further. Lo and behold, they found tracks just beyond.

"It must have been a train I saw. Not a car. A train."

"Is this good? Is it better than a road?"

"Probably better than a dirt road, but worse than a highway. A train may not come by that often."

"How do you get a train to stop?"

"That's a good question. Probably wave."

She looked at him like he was addle-brained. "Wave? What if no one is looking? Why don't you fire your gun?"

"I don't think they would hear it over the noise of the engine."

"Holy crap! Turn around."

There was a light in the distance. "You're right. We need a way to get their attention." He pondered the time they had before the train reached them, recalling what it took for it to originally cross the horizon. "We probably have five minutes."

"I've got an idea. Tumbleweeds burn like crazy. When I was in Albuquerque they would set piles on fire. The flames would shoot above the homes." She waved her hands toward the sky. "Let's make a pile on the track and light it up."

Not a bad idea, he thought. While he looked on, she grabbed a nearby tumbleweed but recoiled.

"Ouch! They're sharp." She then carefully took hold of the tumbleweed using both hands and tugged. It was tangled with a mass of others, and she struggled to free it. Frustrated, she tried kicking, but they were hopelessly stuck together and immobile.

"We don't have enough time for this. How about you run ahead, get ready to wave. Leave Laura here. I'll throw a clump of dirt in the conductor's window to get his attention. If he doesn't see me, hopefully when he looks up, he'll see you."

"Wouldn't a rock work better?"

"We want to get his attention, not shatter the window."

She accepted the plan and ran to get into position. He scurried around to find a nice large clump. Grasping it tightly but careful not to break it apart, he picked it up.

The train, with only a few passenger cars, was coming quickly. For as long as he could, he stood in the middle of the tracks frantically waving his arms. No reaction.

As the train rumbled closer, he stepped to the side. He looked away from the blinding headlight until it passed, at which point he began to hurtle the dirt—the timing was critical. There would be only one chance. Facing the conductor's window, the clump left his fingertips, giving him an instant to set its course sailing toward the unsuspecting conductor.

In that moment he saw the man reading something, then the dirt slammed into his window, breaking into a million pieces. The train was so loud he wondered whether the conductor even noticed.

Down the track Zoe was waving madly. A moment later the train also raced by her. Through the windows of the brightly lit dining car, he saw the passengers going about their business, oblivious to them.

The train sped off leaving them standing in darkness. Their eyes adjusted from the train's lights back to the faint starlight. Discouraged, he picked up Laura, who hadn't been at all disturbed by the thundering sound of the train. She was wrapped in her travel sack and he picked her up, holding her close to his body for warmth. Lethargically, he started toward Zoe.

"My darling Laura. This is going to be harder than I thought."

Then, the train's breaks engaged filling the air with a distant but screeching sound. Zoe was dashing after, calling for help.

It was over. They were to be rescued. Not enough of a reason though, to leave his gun behind. He went back with Laura and retrieved it. Briskly walking toward the slowing train, he fought the urge to run as he was carrying Laura. People stepped off the train and circled around Zoe.

"That's your mom up there, sweet-talking them into giving us a ride."

He picked up his pace, and as he approached, Zoe was already telling about how they crashed months ago. She could hardly contain herself. All eyes and ears were focused on her every word. Her arms waving enthusiastically, she zoomed through their story—how they stayed in a cave through winter, how she had a baby, and how he kept them all alive.

She was out of breath and paused. The floodgates then opened, tears pouring down her eyes and she started hugging everyone.

The conductor shouted, "I'd like to meet this Harry."

"Well, Mr. Conductor, I'm right here."

He emerged out of the darkness and into a cheering crowd. Eager to get going again, the conductor ushered everyone back onto the train. Everyone was talking and the dining car was full of commotion.

An older man approached Harry and commented that they were similar sizes. He offered Harry clothes and the use of his cabin to clean up. Harry had gotten so accustom to living rough, that he had to look down at himself to realize how ragged he appeared. Happily, he accepted. Zoe and Laura had already been carted off by a group of women, chatting away and eager to help.

They eventually met up again in the dining car. For an hour the passengers were engrossed, listening to them detail their ordeal, but it got late and soon it was just the three of them, and the occasional voice announcing something over the speaker.

A portable crib had been brought into the dining car. Here Laura slept under a soft pink blanket. Although it was well past dinnertime, a sleepy chef entered the dining car and offered to make them something.

"We've been living off venison, squirrels, and sometimes pine needles. Would you be so kind as to make me a sizzling cheeseburger smothered in grilled onions, with tomatoes and pickles? Oh, and a bowl of hot soup, and some bread. Would you do that for me?" Zoe grinned at the man.

The chef smiled, yawned and nodded okay.

"That's sounds great. I'll have the same." He glanced out the dark window. "By the way, where are we going?"

The chef told them the next stop was Grand Junction, about five hours away.

"We're going home," said Zoe.

"It appears we are, indeed."

#

Listening to the clickety-clack of the train, Harry watched Zoe take the first bite of her burger. Their eyes met when she glanced up.

"Harry, I want to tell you something."

He swallowed a large spoonful of soup. "Oh no. Not another one of these talks. How about telling me that there isn't enough ketchup on your hamburger? Then, ask me for the ketchup. I can handle that."

She gave him one of her funny looks. "When I saw you walk over to the train carrying Laura, It was wrong when you said you weren't family. I wanted to tell you that. When we first crashed, it was okay—actually, I was relieved that no matter what, I wouldn't be saddled with a baby. You wanted Laura, I didn't."

"Do you really want to go over all that again?"

"Well, it made me think that there I was, just kicking in some DNA. Laura is here because of both of us. I want you to know that to me, you're family, and that's how I want Laura to see you."

This time, the sentiment stretched deep in his heart. "That's nice of you. I've grown quite fond of both of you." He would be honored to have any part in little Laura's life. "But Zoe, Laura has you, and a father, and she already has grandparents. They have a role only they can play. Don't take that away from them. But I certainly can be a special friend."

She placed her hand over his. "You were willing to be her father. You are more than that."

"Okay, but I'm not her father. She'll meet her father soon enough." Unless... "You do intend to tell him, don't you?"

"Probably. I didn't want to be tied to him."

"A father should connect to his children."

"You mean children need a father?"

"That too. It's two ways you know."

Zoe was quiet seemingly thinking about what he had said. "Not that I don't love him, but I guess I am tied to him whether I want to be or not. Boy, what a surprise for him. For months he has thought I am dead. And tomorrow, he not only gets his girlfriend back, but a daughter."

"It's nice sometimes how it works out."

She dropped her fork, which clattered on the table. "Jeez, I hope he hasn't gotten another girlfriend."

Harry let out a big laugh, as the jubilation of the moment made the question sound funny.

"I'm serious Harry. If someone thinks you're dead, you're out of the picture. Oh my god, could he think I'm dead?" Her eyes widened and she poked her head forward.

"Okay, it's possible."

#

Harry greeted the conductor when he approached their table. Zoe had been dosing and opened her eyes. The conductor had brought a pen and paper.

"I've radioed ahead with news of your rescue. They want to know, would you like them to contact anyone right away?"

Zoe perked up. "Oh my parents. Please call my parents. They are the Sastre's." She reached for the paper and pen. "Let me write their phone number down."

The conductor turned to Harry.

"Please, my wife Carol. My daughters live at home, but my son's moved into his own apartment. He's on Maple Street. I don't remember his number, but Carol will call him." He finished writing down her phone number.

Zoe had looked out the window at the silhouette of the mountains, but apparently was still listening.

"That's a noisy street," she quipped.

Harry chuckled, thinking to himself that it was her and her gang at the bar that made it so.

The conductor just stood there. Zoe was about to say something when he broke the silence. "The guy on the radio said everyone thinks you're dead." He beamed a smile and continued, "You're alive. This is wonderful news." He then enthusiastically shook their hands one more time before leaving.

"Quite the crew we have here." Zoe rested her head against the cushioned back of her seat.

"Yup." Harry leaned back in his chair as well, stretching his legs.

Zoe went to check Laura. On her return, she was a bit animated.

"I've been thinking. Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Do you recall where on Maple Street your son lives?"

Odd girl. "Of course, 1402 Maple Street."

Zoe started to say something but was interrupted by the conductor, who returned and reported that Harry's wife wasn't answering. He asked if Harry was sure he couldn't remember his son's phone number.

"I wish I did, but I don't."

Zoe's mouth opened and her eyes were big. "You need to talk to your son more."

With the conductor waiting, this was hardly the time. He cleared his throat. "As I told you before, we don't communicate."

She was about to continue, but he pinned her with a glare that brooked no argument. She was out of line and this was embarrassing.

"Here," she blurted out. She wrote a number underneath the others, and then reached across the table placing her hands on his shoulders. "Mr. Conductor, please have them tell Harry's son that his father, and girlfriend are safe."

The conductor scratched his head, but nonetheless left to try the number.

Harry's mouth hadn't shut during the entire thing. Was she saying...?

"You—you're my boyfriend's dead father. Incredible, isn't it. Mark said you were dead and it never dawned on me to doubt it. Why would I? And you, you never even knew I was your son's girlfriend. Wow. How could we have missed it?"

The implication hit Harry straight on. His eyes turned to Laura and he walked over to the crib, gently picking her up.

"My granddaughter."

He cradled her in his arms, rocking her back and forth, strolling the aisle.

"She is so beautiful when she is sleeping." He paused in front of Zoe's seat. "When did you realize this?"

"I noticed the label on your gun case, but I thought it was referring to Smith and Wesson. Later, I realized you were the 'Smith,' and the coincidence did occur to me. But there are millions of Smiths. However, just now when we were talking about everyone incorrectly thinking we're dead and you happened to mention your son lived on Maple Street, an interesting possibility arose. The address sealed the deal."

"Come here." Harry gestured with one hand while holding Laura with the other. Zoe got up and Harry gave her a gentle hug—he needed to release some of the emotion. "I couldn't figure out where you were going. I thought it was just more of your stick."

"That's shtick," she said rolling her eyes. "This time no."

"You ain't kidding."

He slipped into an internal reflection, which invited quiet from Zoe.

"So my son has a girlfriend, and now a baby. Wow." He snuggled close to the infant. "I just want to hold her...my granddaughter." He touched his nose to hers. "Hello Laura, I don't think we've been properly introduced."

#

An hour had passed. "Harry," whispered Zoe, not sure if he was awake. All the beds were taken and they had been sitting quietly at the dining table.

His head didn't move, but his eyes opened and looked to her.

"It just doesn't seem possible. How could we both wind up on that flight? I mean, that's a long shot even for fate to pull off."

"Stranger things have happened."

She sat up in her chair. "Be serious."

"Who even knew you were pregnant?" Harry straightened himself.

"No one."

"Not even a doctor?"

"No. I used a home pregnancy test. I was suspicious, having missed a couple months."

"You told no one?"

"No one. I just wanted it to go away. When the test showed positive, I threw it in the trash."

Harry needed a moment to process that statement.

"Your mother was visiting, wasn't she?"

"Yup. I was in the bathroom. That's where I saw the result. She was in the other room. Gads, I don't know how I kept my cool."

"Pretty hard to keep something like that from your own mother."

"I would never tell her. I don't need her telling me what to do."

"So how did you wind up on the flight?" he asked.

"I told her I wanted to visit Aunt Betty. She's in Denver. I even got mom to book the flight. It seemed easier, more discrete to deal with it there."

Harry shifted in his chair. "It's a little creepy talking about this with Laura sleeping over there." He took a deep breath and blew it out. "So no one knew. It must have been fate."

Zoe put her hand to her chin and looked out the window. A minute went by. "Wait. How did you wind up on the flight?"

"My wife booked it." Harry must have sensed that his answer was not sufficient. "I love going to the gun show in Denver. It was a surprise present."

"Not so fast. You guys are just scraping by and you fly out for a weekend in Denver. You'd be down hundreds of dollars in hotel costs and airfare."

Harry shook his head and started tapping his finger on the table." She used frequent flier miles." Harry lifted and opened his gun case, retrieving the envelope they had used for the list of names for Laura. "I was going to stay with someone Carol had found. Wouldn't have cost a penny."

Harry waved the envelope in front of Zoe.

"You've made your point. Stop swinging it."

He stopped and two pieces of paper fell out, settling on the table. Zoe sniffed and reached for the smaller one, bringing it to her nose. "I know this fragrance."

She unfolded the paper and on it was written "Betty" and a phone number.

"That's Aunt Betty's phone number. This is my mother's handwriting."

Harry's eyebrows raised and with his mouth ajar, he leaned back. "It wasn't fate after all."

He apparently couldn't get himself to unfold the other piece of paper.

Zoe guessed he was trying to come up with a reasonable explanation, but she finally picked up the note and read it aloud. "My dear husband, I received a visitor yesterday. She has a difficult daughter, much like you and Mark—little communication or influence. Like us, she celebrates life, which gets me to the heart of the matter. She showed me a positive pregnancy test which she found by accident. She is certain that her daughter is on her way to Denver for an abortion. Her name is Zoe and in fact, I've arranged for you to be on the same flight tomorrow. Mark is the father, though he doesn't know. Neither does her aunt, with whom she will be staying. Her mother thought that I might be able to influence Zoe. I think not. But you could."

Pausing to catch her breath, and collect her strength, Zoe resumed. "Her mother has arranged for you to stay with her aunt. Talk to Zoe. This is not a time for your fire and brimstone. In fact, I so fear it that I couldn't discuss this before hand—I didn't want to light your fuse prematurely. Take the time to know Zoe. She is a grown woman and can, and will, make her own choices, just like Mark. Nonetheless, I, and her mother are praying that you can influence her. Please tell Zoe we care about her, and our grandchild. Love, Carol."

Zoe refolded the notes and put them back in the envelope. Her eyes were watery and a few tears ran down her cheek. Harry got up from across the table and slid in next to her. Their shoulders touched.

###
