Jean pressed her lips together and folded her hands in her lap.
Ray forged on. “I spotted this scraggly old cottonwood. Figured if I could climb up high enough, I'd be safe, so I kind of edged toward it. Didn't want to run. You never run from animals like that. It'll set 'em off for sure. They like the chase.”
Ray's pipe had gone out, so he relit it. “By this time those wolves were getting closer and closer, sometimes jumping at me snappin' and growlin'. When I was about five feet from the tree, I knew they wouldn't wait long. If I didn't hurry, they'd get me. I decided to make a run for it. Now remember, I was real close; otherwise, I never would've run.”
The room was silent, all eyes on Ray.
“Well, I lit out as fast as I could, and I lunged for that tree just in the nick of time. One of them beasts caught hold of my pant leg and nearly yanked off my britches.”
Everyone laughed, including Luke.
“I ended up perched in that tree for a whole day and night before those wolves finally gave up on my comin' down.”
“Did you see them again?” Brian asked.
“Nope, but I sure kept an eye out. Ever since then I don't trust wolves. Got to watch 'em.”
“Adam, that sounds like a good story for the paper,” Laurel said.
“Absolutely. I'll have to get with you, Ray. And you too, Mattie.” He pushed to his feet. “It's getting late. We ought to go.”
“Get your coat, William,” Laurel said.
William stood and moseyed toward the back porch.
After saying their farewells, Adam, Laurel, and William headed home. A storm lay down fresh snow and whipped up the old, making it hard to see. Gripping the steering wheel, Adam peered through partially frosted glass. Snow hurtled through the lights and splattered the window.
“Maybe we should go back,” Laurel said, glancing at William asleep in the back seat.
“We'll be fine,” he said in a flat tone, revealing his miserable mood.
Laurel stared at the road. “Adam, I thought you were going to write about what you saw in France and England. I think you should.”
Adam tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I'll write about it when I'm ready.” He hadn't meant to be so sharp, but he didn't want to be pushed. “You don't understand how it is.”
“Tell me then.”
Every time Adam tried to get the story down on paper, the events and people felt as if they were with him. He experienced it all over again—the plane crash, the deaths, the arrest of the farmer and his family, his feelings toward Elisa. She and Adin were gone, and he didn't know where. He should have done more for them. And he was reminded of the men who had died. It made no sense that he'd lived.
“Adam! Watch out!”
A moose stood in the car lights, snow swirling around it. Adam wrenched the wheel to the right. The car slid, then spun. They stopped with a thud, slamming against a snow bank.
Momentarily dazed, Adam stared at his hands still gripping the wheel. “Laurel, you all right? William?”
“Yes, I'm fine.”
Adam swung around to check his son.
Lying on the seat, William pushed himself upright. “What happened?”
Adam sucked in a steadying breath and blew it out slowly. “A moose was in the road. I had to swerve to miss it. We're all right.”
With a child's trust, William nodded, closed his eyes, and returned to his slumber.
“I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention. Seems I have a penchant for doing the wrong thing these days.”
“You couldn't have known about that moose. No one can see in this kind of weather.” Laurel grabbed his hand. “This wasn't your fault, and I don't know what else you think you've done.”
Months of fighting to maintain a brave front dissolved. “The men shouldn't have died.”
“What men?”
“The crew on that plane. They faced battles every week, sometimes every day. They risked their lives to fight for people who couldn't defend themselves. I was just along for the ride. I'm nothing.” He shook his head. “It should have been me, not them.”
“Adam, that decision wasn't up to you.”
He stared at Laurel.
“No one understands why some die while others live. You were doing what you'd been asked, what you knew how to do.” She squeezed his hand. “I'm proud of you.”
“And what about Elisa? I still think about her.” Hurt touched Laurel's eyes, and Adam quickly explained. “Not that way, but I do worry about her.”
Laurel studied the storm outside her window. “Of course you do. You cared about her and Adin. That's a good thing.”
“Don't make me out to be better than I am. I was motivated by more than just wanting to help.”
Laurel remained silent for a long while, then said, “You have to forget. Leave it behind. Those people are part of your past—part of our past.”
