How Long is Forever

Chapter 4

The log cabin at Crystal Lake was in a secluded area, set back from the water's edge by at least a good thirty yards, and surrounded by trees. Access to the cabin was by a narrow, private dirt road, well away from the main thoroughfare. The two-story cabin was fully furnished with everything she would need. It belonged to a good friend of her aunt Mae's, so no one trying to find her would connect it to her. And as for her name… she had chosen a mixture of her aunt's surname mixed with her own mother's name. The only man on earth who would make the connection was in prison. Katherine Kirby was a woman of leisure within her own solitude.

Della sat on the upper balcony outside her bedroom, still wrapped in her comfy robe, gazing out at the lake as a lone eagle soared and swooped on the wind before diving down to snag a large fish, carrying it away to his nest in a high fir tree. Wood song drifted in, and she closed her eyes to pinpoint the direction from which it came.

It must be nice to be free, Della thought, then remembered she wasn't. Tipping her head back with her eyes still closed, she invited the lake breeze and the warmth of the sun to her. I have to be able to feel something! I can't just . . . but despite her best intentions not to fall into the trap of replaying the past, her mind was more determined. If only the sun could warm my heart. I miss him so much. I miss his strong arms, his gentle kiss, his…. Maybe I shouldn't have left. He promised me forever. But I should have known forever is only in fairy tales.

Her conscious smarted. He never left you, did he? You left him. True, you had your small "I told you so" victory, but at what cost? And you—you just couldn't swallow your pride and tell him the truth. So you walked away.

Her eyes opened, but there were no tears. Those had been cried out long ago. I tried to tell him not to take the trial. Even Hamilton tried to warn him. He was too close, too determined. When the evidence kept mounting against Paul, Perry was suddenly lost for the first time in his career. Days had turned into nights, then into even longer days. We didn't sleep, didn't eat. It took a tremendous toll on both of us.

The final straw came when Rocco Anzellmo testified as a prosecution witness. He stuck firm to his story of witnessing Paul brutally punching and stabbing Michael in the club. Nothing Perry could say changed the damning story. When the verdict had been read and Paul was led away, Perry had walked out of the courtroom, just leaving me there in shock.

Sitting up, mentally shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she rose and headed back into the house. Stopping to change into a light sundress, then descending the stairs, she headed to the kitchen. She fixed herself an egg, a slice of toast and a cup of tea. She had no appetite, and had lost several pounds. Taking her meager breakfast out onto the front deck, she settled in a chair, again gazing out to the serene beauty of the lake.

The sound of a rattling engine made her set down her toast, mid-bite. The tension in her back and shoulders ratcheted up, and she was counting down the seconds before she needed to make a mad dash into the cabin. The rattle picked up as the truck crested a hill and she visibly relaxed, waving at the driver.

It's only Mark, Silly! You're still perfectly safe.

Mark Wilson, the aforementioned ranger, pulled the truck to a stop and climbed out of the cab. Striding up to her, he doffed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. At 6'2" with dark brown hair and a deep tan, he was a handsome man, but Della had never bothered to notice. Beyond the friendship the occasional wave provided and his role as a pseudo-protector, Della considered Mark as part of the charm of the landscape.

They had met casually enough, on her second day at the cabin. He was very careful of any outsiders—squatters, she assumed—that might try to check out the cabin. Thus, when the green truck came rattling along the dirt road, she had been witless, unsure what to do, until he explained that he had seen her lights, but was under the impression the cabin was unoccupied. She had introduced herself, saying she was on an extended vacation and would appreciate his help in keeping strangers away.

"Good afternoon, Miss Kirby."

"Hello, Mark. Could I get you a glass of tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

Della rose and entered the house, busying herself with the refreshments. Mark sat watching her through the large windows, silently appreciating her figure in the creamy yellow sundress. He wondered again why someone as beautiful as this lady would shut herself away from the world. Someone must have hurt her terribly. He had asked her out for dinner the first time they met, but she had politely but firmly refused.

Della returned with as glass of tea and a plate of her homemade chocolate chip cookies. Mark took one of the cookies, bit into it and actually rolled his eyes.

"You certainly know my weakness, Miss Kirby. These are wonderful."

"Thank you, Mark." She paused just long enough to let him swallow. "So what brings you out today?"

"I wanted to let you know there are some campers up on the high road. Two families with kids. I warned 'em this was private property, so they shouldn't be a bother to you, but… Kids." He chuckled, then finished, "I thought you would like to know, just in case."

"I appreciate the information. I'll keep a lookout for strangers. Thanks for stopping by."

Mark started to say something more, but her dismissive attitude stopped him. She was odd, this Katherine Kirby.

"Well, I better be getting back to the station. Thanks again for the tea and cookies." He handed her the glass and dusted off his uniform shirt.

"You're welcome, Mark."

He moved toward his truck but turned back. "Miss Kirby, if there's any…"

Della smiled but shook her head. "Bye, Mark. Thanks again for stopping."

"Sure."

Della watched as he climbed back into his truck, turned around and headed back down the road.

She pushed her uneaten breakfast away, leaning back in her chair. There's something or someone coming, she warned herself. Someone that worries Mark. But is it because that person is interested in the cabin, or because he or she is interested in Katherine Kirby? Once again she wished the sun could melt her heart, that she could forget forever.