Bree was trembling as if she were weak from the flu. She was afraid to breathe, afraid she would wake up. A little boy in the woods with a woman who seemed bent on avoiding people. And now Davy’s favorite toy. What did it all mean? Logic said the woman had found the plane and given Davy’s things to her little boy, which was what she’d assumed about the glove. But what if it was more than that? Was it possible? She was afraid to breathe, afraid to really look at it clearly.
She pulled Emily to her. “This is very important, Emily. What did he look like?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Bree,” Naomi said. “The woman gave it to her son.”
“What’s going on?” Kade asked.
Bree blinked and stared up at him. “This belonged to Davy,” she whispered. “It’s his favorite toy. I’m sure he had it with him when the plane went down.”
Kade’s eyes widened. He knelt beside the children. “We need to find this witch of the woods, kids. Can you remember anything about where her cabin was?”
The urgency got through to the kids, for they grew sober with eyes as round as sand dollars. Emily looked as though she might cry. “It was dark, and we were lost,” she said.
“I know; I know,” Kade said, patting her on the shoulder.
Bree suddenly remembered the hat. “Kade, would you get my ready-pack out of the Jeep?”
Recognition at what she wanted with the pack came into his eyes, and he nodded as he went quickly to the door. He returned moments later with the pack in his hand. Bree took the pack and unzipped it. She pulled out the hat.
“Hey, that’s her hat!” Timmy said.
So the witch and the woman Fay saw were one and the same. “What did Sam look like?” she whispered.
“He was little like Timmy,” Emily said. “And he had dark brown hair.”
Brown hair. Her stomach plummeted. Davy’s was red like hers.
“What about his eyes?” Naomi asked.
“Green!” Timmy announced triumphantly. “Like my marble.”
“Like Bree’s?” Naomi asked.
Emily tipped her head to one side and stared at Bree. “Yes, just like yours,” she said. “And he had freckles like yours too.”
“And he limped,” Emily added.
Bree stared at Naomi. “Is it possible?” she whispered.
“I’m afraid to hope,” Naomi said quietly.
He couldn’t be alive, could he? This was surely just some other child who’d been given things from the wreckage of the plane. Bree’s heart warmed from the tiny hope that flickered there.
“We’re going to be late for school,” Emily said in a small voice. “We missed the bus.”
“Show me where you saw the woman,” Bree said to Kade, jumping to her feet. “We’ll drop the kids off at school then go out to where you saw the woman.” She wasn’t sure she could drive, she was shaking so hard. “Can you drive?” she asked Naomi. She nodded and took the keys.
Naomi got the kids into their coats. On wobbly legs, Bree walked to the Jeep and got in on the passenger side. Naomi buckled the children into the backseat then got behind the wheel. Kade put the dogs in the rear compartment before he climbed into the backseat.
“Pray hard,” Naomi said, slipping the Jeep into gear.
Bree nodded. She’d started pleading with God as soon as she realized this might not be a dream. Thankfulness welled up in her. The sense of God’s presence was a comfort she’d never expected.
The discard pile by the door had grown larger. Rachel knew she could only take what she and Sam could carry. She had no time or money to make another trip out here. They would buy what they needed in Chicago once she started earning some money. They had to get out of here before that man came back. He frightened her, and Sam had cried for hours when they’d gotten back to the cabin. He’d clearly recognized the man.
The pitiful stack of things they would take lay on the bare mattress. “You ready to get packed up, Sammy?”
He nodded. “Why can’t I take my books?”
“They’re too heavy, son. You’ve read them all anyway. I’ll buy new ones you haven’t read yet when we get to our new home.”
“Can I take The Little Engine That Could? It’s not heavy.”
He’d read that book so many times the copy was dog-eared and grimy. But he was right; it was light. “I suppose. If there’s room.”
“There’s room.” He scampered to the bed and began to pack his small backpack.
He owned little. Just the bare necessities she’d managed to buy. Three pairs of pants and shirts, four sets of underwear and socks, and the coat he would wear out of here. Rachel resolved once again to do better by him once they were in Chicago. She joined him at the bed and packed her own meager possessions.
She was frantic to get away. The cabin seemed almost claustrophobic to her today. What if the man came back before they were gone? What did he want with Sam’s plane? Outside, the sun shone brightly on the snow and nearly blinded her. Inside, it was dark and confining. They would leave this place behind and never look back.
The past was just that—the past. The future beckoned as brightly as the snow. Maybe she should change her name. And once she got some money stashed away, they could leave Chicago and go where there was no chance of ever running into that man.
She and Sam would be new creatures, born this day into a world of possibilities. The dreams she held for Sam were grand; she knew that. But possible. Anything was possible today. They just had to get out of here.
Sam finished packing his backpack. “I’m ready,” he said. “Are we going to eat first?”
“Are you hungry already? It’s only nine o’clock.”
“A little.” He looked shamefaced.
“How about some beef jerky to gnaw on?”
He nodded eagerly.
She got him some jerky. “Think you can eat it while we walk? It will take several hours to walk to Ontonagon.”
Sam nodded. “I can walk.”
“Okay.” She opened the door and grabbed their snowshoes from the hook outside. “Let’s get these on.”
Once they were ready, she shut the door behind them and left it unlocked. Let some other needy person find a haven here as she and Sam had done. It had served them well, but it was time to move on.
“Wait, I forgot my yo-yo!” Sam struggled through the snow back to the house and disappeared inside. He reappeared moments later with his yo-yo clutched in his hand. “Emily gave it to me.”
“Well, put it in your pocket, and let’s get going. Say good-bye, Sam. We’re off to a new life.”
“Bye, Marcus,” Sam called to his squirrel. Marcus chattered from his tree and watched as they walked across the clearing.
Rachel turned for one last look. It was done. No one would ever find them now.
23
Bree’s chest was tight with a mixture of hope and disbelief as they neared town. Her goal was so close. Naomi turned off on Summit and stopped in front of the school. Kade helped Emily and Timmy out of the Jeep and walked them through the school doors. The preschool teacher took charge of Timmy, and Emily went on to her class. When Kade returned, they drove down Houghton Street, intent on getting to the forest. As they passed the bank, a figure stepped into the snow-covered street to flag them down. Steve’s face was red with the cold, but he wore an excited grin. He waved Fay’s diary in his hand. Naomi stopped, the Jeep’s back end fishtailing a bit. Steve ran to Bree’s door, and she lowered her window.
“You won’t believe it!” he panted. He flipped open the diary. “Look.” He pushed the open diary under Bree’s nose.
Impatient with the delay, she glanced at the words: The assayer says there’s gold in the mine. Gold. I can hardly believe it. Does he know? This changes everything. “Who’s ‘he’?” Bree asked.
“I don’t know. But this has to have something to do with her death. We need to talk. Where are you headed?” Steve asked.
“We might have a lead to my family,” Bree said.
She didn’t want to take the time to explain it.
Steve’s eyes widened. “I’ll come with you. We’ll talk on the way.” He didn’t wait for an answer but got in the backseat with Kade.
“I carry an extra pair of snowshoes; you can use those,” Bree said. “But you’re going to get cold in those pants.” Steve was dressed for the office, not for hiking through heavy snow. The temperature today hovered near zero, and a cold wind blew out of the north. Steve didn’t seem to care.
Naomi drove out along the access road to Lake Superior. The waves tossed foam onto the beach, and the wind whistled through the Jeep’s grille.
“I’m having a hard time staying on the road,” she muttered. Her knuckles were white as she fought with the wheel.
“Want me to take over?” Kade asked.
Naomi nodded and pulled over, then she and Kade exchanged places. The delay made Bree want to scream with frustration. Half an hour later they stopped at the track where Kade had seen the woman.
“This is it,” Kade said. “There’s too much snow to risk taking the Jeep in. We’ll have to go on foot.”
Bree let the dogs out. Then she pulled out Pooky, the hat, and the paper bag with Davy’s shirt she’d been using as a scent article. She pushed back her hair impatiently as the wind teased it from under her parka hood and blew the curls into her eyes. She knelt beside her dog.
Samson whined as though to ask what was wrong. She put her arms around him. “I’m depending on you, boy. I can’t do this alone. Please, please, find them.” Samson whined and licked her face. Tears leaked from her eyes and soaked the fur at his neck. Holding the stuffed bear and the hat under his nose, she let Samson sniff them. Then she had him sniff Davy’s scent article. His tail began to wag when he smelled Davy’s scent.
“Find Davy, Samson.” Bree let go of Samson and started after him with her heart in her throat as he bounded away. “Please, God, let it be Davy,” she whispered. The cold wind stung her face, but she barely noticed. Intent on keeping up with Samson, she plodded over the snow-covered ground in her snowshoes, not caring whether the rest of the team was managing to keep up. The dogs seemed to know right where they were going. Samson bounded over and through snowdrifts with his nose high in the air. His tail waved grandly, and exhilaration seemed to pour off him in waves.
Bree had never seen Samson so excited. But no, she was setting herself up for a crushing disappointment. At the end of this search, all she was likely to find were dead bodies, not her Davy alive and well. Naomi was probably right: The woman had found the wreckage and had taken Davy’s things home to her own child.
But wasn’t the wreckage exactly what she’d spent the past year looking for—her husband’s and son’s dead bodies? With that goal finally in sight, it seemed a poor trophy. Their souls were what mattered. And for the first time in her life, she was at peace knowing they really weren’t out there under this thick blanket of snow. Heaven was where they were residing. And as she’d told Anu, she would see them again.
They came to an old road that crisscrossed through the forest, and Bree paused to rest. Steve panted beside her as he hurried to keep up. “This borders Asters land,” he gasped, out of breath. His dress slacks were wet with snow. “Another old mine is down that way. That one was abandoned back in the eighteen hundreds and has never been the producer the Copper Queen was.”
Kade sat on a stump poking up through the snow and pushed his hat back from his forehead. “I think they’ve lost the scent.”
The dogs nosed around the clearing for several minutes, but it was clear Kade was right. The rising frustration in Bree’s heart brought tears to her eyes. They’d been so close.
“Did you see anything else in the diary?” she asked Steve. She’d only briefly skimmed it, but Fay’s handwriting was hard to read. It was the only lead they had.
“Truthfully, I just started looking at it this morning. I was almost afraid of what Fay might say about the baby.” Steve pulled it out of his jacket. He brushed the snow from a downed tree then settled down on it. Bree pulled out a handful of pistachios. Kade took a few, but Steve, and of course Naomi, refused them. Bree sat beside Steve as he flipped through the pages, skimming quickly. He was used to Fay’s poor penmanship and seemed to have no trouble reading it.
About five pages from the end, Steve made a sound. Bree leaned over to see.
Steve read it aloud. “‘The most peculiar thing happened today. I was hiking in the woods and ran across a cabin near Big White Rock. I knocked on the door, and a woman I’d met earlier came to the door. I hadn’t realized there were any cabins in that area. She seemed scared when I showed up and asked for a glass of water. It might be my imagination, but I thought that old seat in the ravine beside the cabin looked like an airplane seat. I think I might investigate a little more and find out who she is.” Bree jumped to her feet. “Big White Rock. You know where that is? It doesn’t ring a bell with me.”
“I know it!” Naomi put in excitedly. “We’re in the wrong spot. It would be quicker to drive to Lake Richmond and go from there. Come on!”
“I know it too,” Steve said. “It’s near some of my land.”
They raced back to the car. Since she knew where they were going, Naomi drove. They headed along snow-covered dirt and gravel roads to Lake Richmond, a small haven for loons deep in the North Woods. Naomi drove the narrow road until it petered out near a stand of jack pine.
“Big White Rock is about two miles west of here,” she said.
“Fay didn’t say which direction from the rock,” Bree said.
“The dogs will know,” Kade said. He opened the back hatch and let the dogs out, and they all put on their gear again.
Bree had the dogs sniff the items again, and within seconds Samson had the scent. He raced off with his tail held high. Her heart surged, and she hurried after him, the sound of her snowshoes whoosh-whooshing in the cold air. Samson ran as though he knew right where to go. He kept pausing and looking back impatiently as if to ask why she couldn’t keep up.
All Bree could do was focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Over wind-swept hills and valleys filled with snowdrifts, they followed the dogs. The minutes ticked by as the sun rose higher in the sky.
They finally reached a creek bed and crossed it, their boots crunching through the top layer of ice to the cold water trickling beneath it. Chilled through and through, Bree willed herself to the crest of the hill on the far side.
Below them in a clearing sat a small log cabin.
“That’s got to be it!” Steve shouted.
Excitement ran through Bree like an electric current, and she saw the same thrill on her friends’ faces. Bree ran full tilt down the hill to the front door of the cabin. She knocked on the door. “Hello!”
When no one answered, she cautiously pushed the door open and peered inside. Her stomach twisted when she saw the single empty room inside. She saw a box of old clothes beside the door. Samson raced past her and grabbed a toy fire engine in his mouth. His tail beat a furious dance in the air as he licked the toy and whined.
A child had been here, but was it her child? Bree could only watch Samson’s reaction and thrill to the possibility. “Where is he, Samson? Search!”
The dog barked then dashed from the room. He dropped the fire engine as he ran toward the backyard and vanished into the woods.
“Wait for me!” Bree ran after him, plunging into the deep shadows of the forest.
Bree could sense Samson’s excitement, and it fueled her own. They had to be very close. Kade, Steve, and Naomi thrashed through the brush behind her, but she didn’t wait on them. She could conceive of nothing beyond this moment of pushing past brambles, struggling over rough terrain on her snowshoes, and keeping her gaze on her dog. Samson paused at the top of a hill and began to bark excitedly. He disappeared, and Bree struggled on to the top of the slope.
Below her in a clearing sat a woman on a log. Beside her was a small figure. The woman rose and put he
r hands out as if to ward off the dog’s attack, but Samson paid no attention to her. He ran straight to the small figure. Even from here, Bree could see the little boy’s fearlessness. He jumped up and ran toward the dog.
“Sam!” the woman cried.
“Sam!” the little boy shouted. He threw his arms around Samson’s neck, and the dog licked his face in a frenzied display of joy.
Bree knew her legs were moving, but the scene seemed to freeze as a still life, the air around her a vacuum. Laboring against the atmosphere that kept her from the child, she pushed on, and finally the little boy’s face grew closer. He was laughing, and she’d seen that dimpled grin thousands of times. Her gaze traced the contours of his cheeks, his pointed chin, the wide forehead so like her own.
The hair beneath the knit cap was darker than Davy’s, but nothing could hide the fact that her son stood before her, alive and well. He looked up, and his green eyes widened. His arms fell away from Samson’s neck, and the dog stood still as if he sensed this was Bree’s turn.
Bree had almost reached him. “Davy?” she whispered. She wanted to touch him, but what if he disappeared as he always did in her dreams? His face blurred as tears stung her eyes.
“Mommy?” he asked.
The strength drained from her legs and she collapsed to her knees in front of him, her fall cushioned by the snow. His small fingers touched her face with a tentative touch as though he was as unsure of her as she was of him. Bree folded him in an embrace, and he snuggled against her as if there was no place he’d rather be. “Davy, Davy,” was all she could say. His hair smelled of wood smoke and little boy. She buried her face in his neck and breathed in the scent of him, an aroma better than any pulla or panukakkua.
He wrapped his arms around her and burrowed closer. If it was a dream, she wanted never to awaken. He felt whole, but was he really all right? She ran her hands over his back and legs as he clung to her and refused to let go. He didn’t wince at her probing fingers but sighed in contentment to be in her care.