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Sweat crawled slowly down Avery’s back. Why was Addisyn so on her heart tonight?
Avery sighed and returned to her chair. Slowly, uncertainly, she pulled open the drawer of her desk and reached into the back corner until she felt something—something square and flat. Her breath caught as she drew the object into the light.
It was a white photo frame—the corners chipped now—with a single photo inside. Avery, eleven years old, pushing Addisyn on the swings at the local park. The afternoon light had made the picture almost glow.
Avery hadn’t displayed the photograph since Addisyn left. It was simply too painful...just another form of torture. Yet amazingly, as she gazed at it now, she felt the same peace the image had always evoked in her.
Maybe it was time. Carefully, Avery propped the photo on the corner of her desk. The action, simple as it was, seemed to ease something in her spirit. Pulling out a new sheet of paper, she nibbled on her eraser for a moment before scribbling down some lines. She didn’t understand the situation with her mind. But the words she wrote poured straight from her heart.
Sister, I love you, I hope you still know
I’m so very sorry that I let you go.
One day, perhaps, if wishes come true
El Shaddai will lead me to you.
I know my opinions caused many a fight,
But I wanted you always to walk in the light.
Now wherever you are, in lands far or near,
If ever you call me, you know I’ll be here.
Sister, I love you, I hope you still see
You always have been so precious to me.
THE TRAFFIC ONElkhorn Avenue had usually been rather sparse during the snow-crusted months of spring. But now, the first week in June, the snow had retreated to the very highest peaks, and the tourists were descending on the town in droves. It was just past seven o’clock in the morning, and already people were strolling the sidewalks, browsing the gift shops, and playing Frisbee in Bond Park.
Avery was relieved to leave the congestion of the downtown area behind as she turned onto St. Vrain Avenue. She enjoyed this daily commute to work, delighted in the colorful street names—Elkhorn and St. Vrain, Pine Knoll and Axminister, Moraine and Pawnee. After the turmoil of last night, the familiarity of the drive was soothing.
In the crisp morning air, with the early sunlight trickling down the crevices of the High Peaks and birds raising their trills of praise from the arms of the pines, Avery could almost pretend that darkness was nonexistent.
“Almost there.” She reached over to pat Mercy. “Hey, do you think we could roll the window up now? It’s getting kind of cool in here.”
Mercy obligingly pulled her head back into the car. They were going faster now anyway, too fast for a dog to hang out the window.
Just past the blue sheen of Marys Lake, where the mountains began to stake their claim against the city of Estes Park, was an A-frame structure—silvered shake shingles in a protective V over a simple wood base. Avery pulled into the parking lot, her tires growling in the gravel. In the window was a decal: LIVE BIGGER OUTDOOR SUPPLY.
As soon as she stepped on the creaking front steps and opened the door, Avery was greeted with an assortment of wilderness products. Taxidermied ducks hung from the ceiling, spinning lazily. Display racks of everything from clothing to bait lures to compasses dotted the wood floor. A galvanized pail by the front door was loaded with hand-carved walking sticks.
“Come right on in, Miz Avery!” bellowed a cheerful voice from the back of the store. “And do I see your sidekick with you today?”
Mercy immediately hurried toward the voice. Dodging a display rack of wool hiking socks and sidestepping a shelf of Estes Park T-shirts, Avery followed suit. “Hey, Laz!” She shook her head in mock frustration. “No matter how I try, I can never beat you here.”
Laz Jobe cocked a shaggy brow at her. “Comes of livin’ behind the store, girl. And of havin’ no life.”
Today Laz’s hair, the color of a squirrel’s fur, was mostly hidden under a green bandana. His deep-set blue eyes peered kindly at Avery from the concentric wrinkles that surrounded each one. “So, girl, how’s the traffic in town?”
Avery groaned. “Terrible! Is it like this every summer?”
“’Fraid so.” Laz had turned away to paw through a canister on the shelf behind him. “Hmm...Mercy, still remember how to shake hands?” When she saw the dog biscuit in his calloused palm, Mercy quickly offered her paw. “Good girl!” Laz tossed her the treat, which she snatched adroitly from the air. Then he wiped his hands on his jeans and turned back to Avery as though there had been no break in the conversation. “Yeah, gets worse every summer. More and more people comin’ to the mountains.”
Avery quirked the corner of her mouth. “Is that a good thing?”
Laz smoothed his reddish beard, now beginning to whiten. “Wal-l-l...depends on who you ask. The city council appreciates the business. Personally, I could do without them city slickers, messin’ around, gettin’ lost, knowin’ no more of wildness and mountain country than that kayak on the wall.” He jerked toward it with his chin, then winked at her. “Course, them bears in the High Country always enjoy a fresh supply of rookies to snack on.”
