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Tall Pines Sanctuary

By Sharon K. Connell

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Chapter One


Faith stared at her grandparents’ portrait, hanging over the huge mantel above the stone fireplace. The elderly couple gazed down at her. Grandmother in a traditional Ute fringed deerskin dress and moccasins. Gramps wearing a buckskin jacket with his old tweed flatcap atop his head. Their smiles revealed the love they had for each other and their life together. Faith remembered the day she’d finished the painting. The love in their eyes had extended to her too.

She poured over her grandmother’s features. The ones she’d inherited. Among them was thick black hair which hung to her waist. She hadn’t an ounce of her mother’s European appearance. Only a bit of her Irish father and grandfather’s traits in her light green eyes.

A year after the picture was painted, Grandmother Adele died. Her death came about so fast, but it wasn’t a mystery why she passed away. Septicemia. A rapid decline in her health.

But this? Two years later, Faith’s beloved grandfather was gone too.

“Why, Gramps? Why now?” Faith had tried to figure out what had happened. Over and over, she’d wrestled with the idea that Gramps’ death couldn’t have been an accident. He’d built those stairs himself and ensured they were the proper depth and height. Strips of anti-slip tape covered them, not slippery carpets. Plus the solid cedar sapling rails he’d installed on both sides to hold on to. He was careful that way. And yet, he’d fallen.

“So what happened, Gramps?”

He always said he’d leave this cabin to her someday, and now he had. Too soon.

The tears she’d held oozed over her bottom lashes onto her cheeks.

When a hand touched her back, Faith jumped. She spun and almost knocked Grace off her feet. “Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you were still outside.” Faith turned to the mantel and wiped away her tears with the soggy handkerchief she’d carried throughout the funeral and afternoon luncheon. She’d endured words of sympathy received from her grandfather’s friends who had come to the log cabin after the burial.

“Everyone is on their way home. Your mom wanted to come back in, but your dad told her to let you grieve. Gal, I’m worried about you.”

Faith took a deep breath and turned to face Grace. “I’m all right.” She swallowed hard. “I’ll… I—”

“You’ll get through this.” Grace pulled Faith into a hug.

Grace had been her best friend almost since the day they’d met at college. Always comforted her after Mother started an argument over the phone. Faith sighed. And when she’d broken her engagement. Faith shook her head. Don’t go there. She had enough pain to deal with.

After Dad had visited CU Boulder during her first year in college, he told her he felt better knowing his little girl had a roommate two years older than her. Faith smiled at the recollection. Having left Grand Lake for the first time in her life, Dad worried about her. And now Grace planned to stay with her for the next three weeks at the cabin.

Grace peered at Faith and retracted her hand. “I’m glad I can be here with you. You shouldn’t be alone right now.” She bent her five-foot, ten-inch frame to meet Faith’s petite five-foot, two inches and hugged her.

“Thank you, Grace. But what does the school say about your taking time off?”

“They’re okay with it. Nothing much happens in the classroom before Christmas anyway, and we’re on break from then until after New Year’s. The kids are so hyper through the following week, that not a lot gets done when they’re back in class, so the extra few days won’t matter. By the time I return, my fourth graders should be ready to buckle down to their studies.”

“And Bryan? How does he feel about you staying with me in this cabin through the holidays? Didn’t the two of you have plans? You’ve only been engaged since July.”

“Trust me. My fella understands. He’s the most understanding man I’ve ever met. And you’ve invited him to have dinner with us on Christmas Eve.” Grace gazed out the living room bay window. “The weather’s been nice this year, and the roads are clear.” She spun to face Faith. “His mother left to spend the holidays in Chicago with his sister, her husband, and their first baby. Bryan said he’d rather visit the Windy City in the summer.” She tittered. “When the little guy is less fragile. I told him he’d better get used to fragile bundles before our wedding this spring, and we wind up with one on the way.”

Faith laughed, peered out the window, and changed the subject. “I hope the weather holds for us, although I’m hoping we have fresh snow for Christmas.”

“I haven’t heard reports of any heading our way, but who knows?” Grace gave her a sideways glance. “Will your parents be here for dinner on Christmas Eve?”

“Are you kidding? Mom hates this place. She wants me to come there for dinner.” Faith sighed. “The rift between Mom and me depresses Dad. Even my brother Aaron had planned to stay at the cabin for the holiday with just an overnight at our parents’ home when he arrived from Florida. To be honest, I’m surprised my father has put up with her domineering nature all these years. But like your Bryan, he’s an understanding, forgiving, tolerant man.”

“Ah… a role model for your future husband, huh?”

“The best.” Faith’s heart pinched. She hurried through the dining area toward the galley kitchen. “Let’s put this leftover food away since everyone’s gone. We have enough to last at least two weeks. Grandfather’s friends and neighbors are so kind.”

“Yes, let’s. Don’t want those yummy eats to spoil.” She followed Faith. “Aaron must have been born right after your parent’s first year of marriage.”

“I suppose so. He’s twenty-nine now. I came along five years later.”

“That’s quite a gap.”

“True, but big brother looked out for me. He stuck up for me more than once when Mom chewed me out. Then Dad would step in and smooth things over.”

“Faith, I have a question.”

“Hmmm?”

“You don’t look anything like your mother. I take it you resemble someone else in the family. You don’t bear much resemblance to your dad either with your long, straight, beautiful black hair. Now the green eyes, I see as pure Irish.”

Faith chortled. “Mom and I are total opposites. My sister Hope is the spitting image of our mother. I inherited most of my physical features from my paternal grandmother, including my height.” She moved a bowl of rolls from the kitchen island to the counter. “Didn’t you notice the painting over the mantel?”

Grace peeked around the corner of the kitchen wall into the living room. “Of course. Sorry, I’m not very observant. You could be her twin.”

Faith smiled and stepped out of the kitchen. “Be right back. I have to make sure Scamper has enough water. I forgot to check it this morning before the service. He’s been stuck in his cage since last night.” She rushed into the master bedroom under the wooden catwalk, which ran from the south side of the cabin to the north, allowing access to four rooms and a bath on the second floor. Her grandfather’s three-year-old sable ferret whined inside his multi-level cage.

“I know, I know. You’ve been cooped up too long, haven’t you, little guy?” She unlatched the cage, and the small weasel scampered out, headed for the main room. “Hey! Come back here. Oh, bother.” Faith took off after the fuzzy critter and found him bouncing his front paws on the hardwood floor at Grace’s feet.

“He’s trying to jump to gain your attention, hoping you’ll pet him.”

Grace stared wide-eyed and frozen in place at the excited animal. “I forgot your grandfather had this little wild ball of fur for a pet. Does he bite?”

“Not exactly. But don’t stick your finger out to him or through the cage wires. Ferrets have fairly bad eyesight. He might think you’re handing him a carrot to eat. Other than that, no. Scamper’s a sweet little rascal. I’ve only seen him take a dislike to one person since Gramps has had him.” Faith scooped the ferret into her arms, grabbed a piece of rolled-up sliced turkey for him, and carried the wiggly critter to the bedroom. “Here you go, little guy.”

As he munched on the meat, she slipped him into the cage, then changed his water bottle. He ran up the ramps to the top platform, eye level with her. “I’ll let you out again after we’ve cleaned up from the luncheon. Don’t want you to get into things you shouldn’t eat. It’ll also give Grace a little more time to adjust to the idea of you.”

Scamper watched her with what seemed like a smile while he chomped the last bit of meat in his teeth and squeaked.

Faith returned to the kitchen. The girls finished wrapping the luncheon food and stored everything in the refrigerator and freezer.

As Grace placed homemade clover-shaped rolls into a storage bag, she smiled. “I remember the stories you used to tell me about your visits up here with your grandparents. Like when your grandmother had the church ladies here for a quilting bee, I think you called it.”

It felt good to smile. Leave it to Grace to bring out the joy when you thought you’d lost every ounce of it. “The quilting bees. Those were such great times. Grandma let me cut squares of fabric for her. I’d sit on the floor in the middle of the ladies while they worked and we ate cookies they’d brought for refreshments. Mom would have had a fit if she’d known what Grandma and Grandpa allowed me to do. They weren’t spoiling me. They were letting me be a normal child.” The smile slipped from Faith’s lips. Unlike her mother.

***

“Well, this is it, Pete.” Josiah Nocona extended his hand to his friend. His Army buddy squeezed so hard that you’d think they were in a competition. Josiah winced at the vice-like grip but forced a grin. “You be sure to write and let me know where they send you next, now that you’re making your career in the service.”

A moment of envy hit him, but it passed as he thought of the new life he’d chosen in journalism.

“I will, Comanch.”

Comanch. Josiah grinned at the nickname everyone in their unit had given him when they found out he was from the Comanche tribe.

“I’m sorry to see you go, man.” Pete slapped him on the shoulder. “I hope they send me stateside, but you never know with this outfit.” He let out a hearty horselaugh and pumped Josiah’s hand faster.

After retrieving his throbbing hand from Pete, he grabbed his duffle bag from the airport floor in South Korea. He’d really miss this guy’s companionship and support. Would he keep in touch? Everyone he’d been close to in high school had moved from Granby, Colorado, to bigger cities to find jobs or go to college. And they never came back, according to his dad’s letters.

Josiah stretched his five-foot, nine-inch frame. He hadn’t slept much the night before, not knowing what to anticipate when he’d arrive home. Of course, his parents would be the same as when he’d left them to join up, but what about Faith? Things were different now.

With a final wave to Pete, Josiah stepped into the plane. He felt lonely for the first time since leaving home to join the Army straight out of high school. He’d wanted to make a difference in this world and follow in his great-grandfather’s footsteps, who had been what they called a code talker in World War I. But, the Native American code talkers weren’t needed anymore. Josiah pressed his lips together. He’d gone into communications, but he’d never been happy there. Although, it did allow him the opportunity to earn a college degree in journalism. The Army held no career for him. His heart was in writing.

He stowed his duffle in the overhead compartment and settled into the seat next to the window. He leaned back and closed his eyes. A dark-haired girl with light green eyes appeared in his thoughts. Faith. They’d been engaged for almost two years. He knew her mother didn’t approve, although they had no idea why. Faith had written to him about the remarks Mrs. O’Callaghan constantly made.

Then six months ago, all correspondence stopped. Faith wouldn’t answer his letters or online messages. His phone calls went to voicemail until a message finally told him the number wasn’t in service. There’d been no report of anything happening to Faith. His mom and dad had checked.

As he took a deep breath and stared out the window, the plane taxied down the runway. The earth fell away while Josiah’s eyes burned. What had he done to warrant his being treated like that by the girl he’d loved since grade school?

There had to be an answer. And he’d find it.

***

As Faith still pondered her grandfather’s death, she and Grace sat on the couch in the huge cabin and watched a movie about a Christmas train trip. Grace told her she might get her thoughts off the sadness for a while with a romantic flick.

Faith’s heart ached. How could she turn feelings off? She couldn’t accept Gramps’ death as an accident. Something was wrong. What caused him to fall down the flight of stairs from the second floor? She twisted to sit sideways. Her eyes drifted from the film to the catwalk under the cathedral ceiling. Had someone else been there that day? If so, why hadn’t they helped her grandfather? Why hadn’t they called emergency instead of leaving him unconscious… to die?

Angry heat filled her chest. She had to figure it out. Her eyes narrowed as she recalled the information her dad had told her. No one had been here when Dad came to check on Gramps after his phone calls went to voicemail the next day. There was no answer when her dad pounded on the door. Everything was locked. He scanned the huge living room through the bay window from the front deck and caught a glimpse of his father’s arm on the floor at the bottom of the staircase.

Faith leaned forward to brace her elbows on her thighs. She lowered her head and pressed her temples with the palms of her hands.

“Are you okay, Faith?” Grace rubbed her friend’s back.

“No. I’m not. This just doesn’t make sense. There must be another explanation for Gramps’ death… other than an accident. I won’t believe or accept it.”

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