David gripped the grab bar over the glove box, his knuckles going white as the woman behind the wheel whipped the Jeep up a dusty mountain trail. She didn’t seem to believe in doing anything slow, and they jumped, jostled, and jolted over ruts. Still, he couldn’t help but smile. He had been over these roads many times himself, and fast or slow, they never got any better. Soon they were winding in among the tall pines, dipping into a low valley that led toward the stream that raced to the falls far below.
At one time an earthen dam held back the water that rushed toward the hundred foot drop, but it had burst, in a tragic torrent, taking far too many good lives with it. Now the stream ran, uninhibited to the valley far below.
“We’re almost to the staging area,” Susan shouted over the rattle and clatter of the Jeep. “I have my back pack and water with me.” She jerked her thumb behind her, and he glanced back to see a bright orange backpack. He should have thought to grab his own before leaving the fancy house.
In a matter of minutes Susan swung the Jeep into a dirt patch under the pines and hopped out into the dim shade of the big trees.
“Aren’t you worried about someone stealing something?” David nodded toward the open roof as he pried his fingers from the grab bar.
“There isn’t anything in it to take once I grab my pack. You can lock your journal in the glove box if you want though.” Susan’s eyes scanned the leather book that David clutched to his chest. She wanted to see every page in that tiny tome.
“I’ll keep it with me,” the man said, stuffing it into the front of his shirt and making Susan’s fingers itch to open the journal.
Grabbing her pack to occupy her hands, Susan Holmes swung the straps over her shoulders and turned toward a dim trail leading into a dark valley. She had been here so many times before that she probably could have made the trek with her eyes closed.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been here,” David gazed around him at the canopy above. “It’s miles from my grandfather’s cabin.”
“Cabin?” Susan stopped so suddenly that the David walked into her scrabbling to keep from tripping down the hill. His right arm shot out, instinctively grasping the young woman to him, but her forward momentum and his inattention tipped them over the crest, like a bowling ball dropping into the gutter.
“Oh!” Susan cried out, feeling herself losing her grip on terra firma as she began to fall. The world spun, the ground rose up, her whole body twisted, landing with a soft woof onto the young man, who tried to tuck her into his chest as they tumbled down the small rise landing with a soggy plop in a truculent tributary.
“I am so sorry,” David opened his eyes, water gushing up the back of his neck, gasping as startled blue eyes met his. The cold water of the mountain stream seeped into his back, as warmth trickled into David’s soul from where the young woman rested on his chest. Susan Holmes had landed on his torso, pushing him into the rocky bottom of the shallow stream. She was so close, her face only inches from his as a slow smile broke across her features.
A contagious laugh broke from the young woman’s lips, splashing over David like the icy water racing under his back and bubbling in his chest until it gushed from his mouth like a fountain.
“You’re back is soaked,” Susan managed as she finally broke the hypnotic gaze that held her, pushing off until her feet splashed down on the pebbles, her sturdy hiking boots gripping the slick stream bed. Offering her hand, Susan felt his strong grip in hers, and she anchored her heels pulling as he came to his feet.
“Are you hurt?” David’s voice purred. “You didn’t hit anything did you?” He lifted his eyes to the small hill they had tumbled down hoping there had been no major protuberances on the trail.
Susan’s soft laugh returned, and she shook her head, noting the twigs and leaves sticking out of his soft locks. “I’m good,” she grinned. “Do you want to go back and do this on a day when you aren’t dripping wet?”
“No,” David felt the blush rise up his cheeks. “I’d just as soon get this done.”
Splashing out of the ankle deep water Susan headed for the opposite shore, gesturing for David to follow. “Maybe you’ll dry off a little before we have to get back in the Jeep,” her voice was full of unuttered laughter.
“If not, I guess I’ll air dry on the trip home.”
Another mile and the unlikely pair dropped into another valley, this one spotted with young growth and filled with lush grass, watered by the constant trickle that spread across the low land.
“This is it,” Susan spoke. “This is where Gram found Israel.” Susan rested her hands on her hips, stretching as she tried to dispel the feeling of Mr. Watkins’s hands on her sides.
“Right here?”
“Yep. She and her old friend Gary were following this trail and found the horses knee deep in grass right here.” Susan lifted a hand pointing into the lush growth that filled the valley.
David turned in a slow circle his light weight pants already beginning to dry in the warm Georgia sun. “There’s nothing here?”
“What did you expect?” Susan rolled her eyes. “I’ve been over every inch of this spot and have never found a single clue. I can’t even begin to imagine where Gram would have seen that flash of color she mentioned today.” Susan scowled, wondering why her grandmother had never told her that tidbit before.
“We should
