{"product_id":"the-way-of-women-isbn-9781578567874","title":"The Way of Women","description":"\u003ci\u003eOn the verge of Mt. St. Helens’ historic eruption, three women must face the mountain: two to search for their missing husbands; the third, to rediscover her life…\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAfter a local mountain becomes a deadly and imminent threat, three strikingly different women become linked in a desperate mission. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eChildren’s author Katherine Sommers is searching for her depressed husband, David, and their son Brian, camping together on Mt. St. Helens’ tumultuous north slope. Mellie Sedor seeks her husband, Daniel, who has taken a logging job to pay for their daughter’s chemotherapy. Fashion photographer Jen Stockton joins Cowlitz County Sheriff Frank McKenzie, himself the victim of a brutal loss, in his quest to evacuate the awakening volcano.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJen came to the mountain in an effort to recover the peace she experienced as a child. Instead, she finds destruction and heroism, tragedy and friendship. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen Women Strive Together, They Can Face Even the Unthinkable. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWritten by best-selling and award-winning author Lauraine Snelling, \u003ci\u003eThe Way of Women\u003c\/i\u003e celebrates the resilience and strength of women, both individually and collectively, in the face of extraordinary crisis.“Two dozen years ago we watched in horror as Mount St. Helens erupted on our television screens, fearing for the safety of those who lived beneath her shadow\u003ci\u003e. In The Way of Women,\u003c\/i\u003e Lauraine Snelling takes us there in graphic, moving detail as she explores the lives of three women deeply affected by the natural disaster. Her careful research and vivid descriptions make the mountain come alive, and the unique challenges each woman faces draw us day by ash-covered day toward a satisfying end.”\u003cbr\u003e–Liz Curtis Higgs, best-selling author of \u003ci\u003eThorn in My Heart\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“In \u003ci\u003eThe Way of Women,\u003c\/i\u003e Lauraine Snelling goes beyond her usual grand storytelling in giving us insights into landscapes, history and life.  This time, through her memorable characters, Lauraine explores the explosiveness of loss taking us to the depths of our need for relationships in turbulent times.  Grief and disaster can be transforming if we allow God to work in our lives.  That’s one way of women I’ll take with me in a story that sings with the beauty of the northwest landscape and Lauraine’s own lovely language.  ‘The creek gossiped with the rocks’ and ‘Wait — a four letter word worse than cursing’ are phrases worthy of remembering as is this fine story of God’s power to use each of us to help heal each other and restore ourselves in the process.”\u003cbr\u003e– Jane Kirkpatrick, award-winning author of \u003ci\u003eA Name of Her Own\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Reminding us that love can spring forth from ashes, that life can emerge from death, Lauraine Snelling writes a gripping and powerful novel that will inspire and uplift you.”\u003cbr\u003e–Lynne Hinton, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Last Odd Day\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eLauraine Snelling \u003c\/b\u003eis the author of numerous successful series, including the best-selling Red River of the North, a collection of six historical, family saga novels, the award-winning novels \u003ci\u003eAn Untamed Land\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eSong of Laughter\u003c\/i\u003e, and most recently, the best-selling \u003ci\u003eThe Healing Quilt\u003c\/i\u003e. She leads writer’s workshops in her home and at numerous conferences around the country.\u003cb\u003eChapter Nine\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJENN\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eApril 18, 1980\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSorry, miss. You can’t go any farther.” Jenn frowned at the young trooper. She knew he was only doing his\u003cbr\u003ejob, but that fact did nothing for her spirits. She donned her “charming” smile. “Look, I grew up here. I know this area like the proverbial back of my hand.” She peered at his nametag. “I also know, Officer Tanner, that you can make exceptions to any rule. Can’t I sign a release that says I’m going up at my own risk?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “Governor Ray said no exceptions.\u003cbr\u003eI’m just obeying orders.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenn thrummed her fingers on the steering wheel of her rented fourwheel-\u003cbr\u003edrive pickup. Getting up to Spirit Lake gnawed like a rabid badger\u003cbr\u003eat her insides. “Look…”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What’s the problem, Tanner?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenn turned her head at the commanding voice. It sounded vaguely\u003cbr\u003efamiliar.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“This lady insists on going up to Spirit Lake, Sheriff.” Officer Tanner\u003cbr\u003estepped back from the truck window at Frank’s gesture.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Now, ma’am, I’m sure Officer Tanner here has explained the situation.”\u003cbr\u003eMcKenzie tipped his hat brim back with one finger.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hello, Frank.” Jenn removed her oversize dark glasses and turned in\u003cbr\u003ethe seat to face him. Would her childhood idol even recognize her?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Well, I’ll be blowed over.” Frank’s smile made it all the way to his\u003cbr\u003ehazel eyes for the first time in months. “Jennie’s come home.” He turned\u003cbr\u003eand grinned at the young officer as if he should be excited too.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenn flinched at the diminutive. Jenn was okay, J.E. better, but Frank\u003cbr\u003ewouldn’t know that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yes sir.” Officer Tanner glanced back at the cars lining up behind the\u003cbr\u003epickup. “Uh, maybe since you know this person, you could, um…”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You’re right. You go deal with those others, and I’ll take over here.”\u003cbr\u003eFrank waved in dismissal. “Thanks, Tanner.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenn studied Frank briefly during his exchange with Tanner. The man\u003cbr\u003ehad aged! He looked like he could barely crawl out of bed. Had his\u003cbr\u003efamily’s tragedy made him physically ill? When he turned back and leaned\u003cbr\u003ecloser, she caught a whiff of whiskey. Did it take a drink to get him out of\u003cbr\u003ebed every morning? Her musings failed to alter her smile. What were they?\u003cbr\u003eTwo of a kind?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sorry for all that.” He extended his hand. “Welcome home.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I won’t be home until I get up to the lake. Can’t you do something\u003cbr\u003eabout that?” Her eyes darkened with intensity. “I \u003ci\u003ehave \u003c\/i\u003eto get up there.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I know you do, squirt. You and The Lady always had a special affinity.”\u003cbr\u003eThe ancient nickname slipped out without his awareness. “Park your\u003cbr\u003etruck over there and come with me. I have to go up and try to talk old\u003cbr\u003eHarry Truman out again. Won’t do any good, but it’s a great way to spend\u003cbr\u003ethe morning.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Thanks.” She felt like bouncing in the seat, just like she used to.\u003cbr\u003eStrange, so many memories she hadn’t thought of for years. \u003ci\u003eWhat is happening\u003cbr\u003eto J.E. Stockton? \u003c\/i\u003eMan calls her squirt, and she immediately regresses\u003cbr\u003eto that tomboy who tagged along behind Frank even after he joined the\u003cbr\u003ecounty force, even after he brought home his bride.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe parked her truck at the back of the parking lot and swung her\u003cbr\u003ecamera and daypack out in one fluid motion when she stepped from the\u003cbr\u003ecab. The camera was an extension of her soul, her graceful body a product\u003cbr\u003eof years of grueling dance and ramp work. She started to lock the door\u003cbr\u003ebut brought herself up short with a small grin. She was home. No one\u003cbr\u003elocked houses here, let alone cars. Cowlitz County was a far cry from the\u003cbr\u003ecrime-ridden city where she made her living.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe opened the door of the forest-green Blazer and froze. The massive\u003cbr\u003eGerman shepherd facing her from the seat lifted one lip slightly. The\u003cbr\u003egrowl remained in his throat, audible only to Jenn. An expletive escaped\u003cbr\u003ebefore she clamped her mouth shut.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSig watched her, waiting for her next move.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Frank. Call off your dog!” Jenn matched the monster, stare for stare.\u003cbr\u003eHe was magnificent. Frank laughed, a carefree sound that Jenn failed to\u003cbr\u003eappreciate.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Backseat, Sig.” He rumpled the dog’s alert ears and thumped him on\u003cbr\u003ethe shoulder. With a thrust of his powerful hindquarters, the animal\u003cbr\u003epushed himself over the seat. He assumed his sitting position on the rear\u003cbr\u003eseat, tongue lolling, eyes still on the woman.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“She’s a friend, Sig. A friend.” Like a soldier ordered “at ease,” the dog\u003cbr\u003eimmediately relaxed and, with a quick swipe of his tongue, cleaned the sher-\u003cbr\u003eiff’s right ear. Frank wiped his ear dry and extended a hand to pull Jenn’s\u003cbr\u003ebackpack into the center of the seat. “You’re not afraid of him, are you?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“No. Just respectful.” She followed her gear in. “Eye to eye, no one\u003cbr\u003ewith any brains would argue with him.” Jenn looked over her shoulder to\u003cbr\u003eaccentuate her point, then slammed the door. “I’m ready when you are.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen Frank failed to move, Jenn glanced up. At the intensity of his\u003cbr\u003egaze, she locked herself into an assumed nonchalance, one of the poses for\u003cbr\u003ewhich the camera made her famous. Her head tilted slightly as if resisting\u003cbr\u003ehis gaze.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank studied her, his piercing stare wandering from the top of her\u003cbr\u003ehead, lifeless hair easily tamed with a bone clasp, to her eyes, the purple\u003cbr\u003eshadows under them huge in her face. He noted the hollows under the\u003cbr\u003echeekbones, the once strong chin, now all bone, her neck no longer graceful\u003cbr\u003ebut gaunt. “You look like something out of a death camp. What has\u003cbr\u003ethat city done to you? Or what’ve you done to yourself ?” He grabbed her\u003cbr\u003echin in brutal fingers and turned her face to the light. “You fall or someone\u003cbr\u003ework you over?” The bruise on her temple tried to tell its own story.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“None of your business, Frank McKenzie.” The ice in her voice belied\u003cbr\u003ethe fire in her eyes. “Besides, look who’s talking.” She jerked her chin free,\u003cbr\u003econscious but uncaring that there’d be another bruise. “You’re only fortyfour.\u003cbr\u003eYet you look sixty–and a sick sixty at that.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yeah. Well, I guess I earned my scars the hard way.” The cynical bite\u003cbr\u003ein his tone contradicted the desolation in his eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“And you think I didn’t?” Blue eyes locked with hazel, as if the two\u003cbr\u003ewere sworn enemies rather than friends who’d been separated for years.\u003cbr\u003eJenn gave up the contest, hating the emptiness she saw in his soul.\u003cbr\u003e“Frank.” She laid her hand on his sleeve. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d have\u003cbr\u003egotten over that by now.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I know. What’s a wife and kid in the grand scheme of things?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yeah. I know.” Frank worked his hands loose from the steering\u003cbr\u003ewheel. He shifted the Blazer into first, checked his side mirror, and pulled\u003cbr\u003eout onto the road. “Let’s go rout out old Harry, squirt.” He reached over\u003cbr\u003eand patted her knee. “Maybe he’ll pour us some of his special stock as a\u003cbr\u003ewelcome home for ‘the face of the seventies.’ He has one of your magazine\u003cbr\u003ecovers up on his wall, you know. Along with all the other celebrities\u003cbr\u003ewho’ve visited the lodge. Says he knew you before when…”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was obvious that they were to return to banalities, so Jenn buried her\u003cbr\u003eravaged feelings and dug her camera out to mask any pain in her eyes. Why\u003cbr\u003ecould this man crack her armor with a few choice words when no one else\u003cbr\u003ehad even nicked it in the last years? And heaven knows, they’d tried.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe gray clouds scudding overhead matched the turbulent, gray river.\u003cbr\u003eBoth mirrored Jenn’s feelings. The brief flareup with McKenzie only\u003cbr\u003eserved to deepen the depths of her grayness. She was counting on the\u003cbr\u003emountain to bring her back to life, but each milepost they passed intensified\u003cbr\u003eher fear rather than heightening her anticipation. What if the mountain\u003cbr\u003ewere dying too? \u003ci\u003eDon’t be stupid! \u003c\/i\u003eShe cut her thoughts off. Mountains\u003cbr\u003edon’t die. Only people and living things die. And dreams. And hopes. She\u003cbr\u003eglanced at the hard profile of the concentrating driver. And those you love.\u003cbr\u003eDying is hard, but murder? She tried to comprehend how he must have\u003cbr\u003efelt. The horror eluded her, but empathy and its cousin sympathy found\u003cbr\u003ea home. She shifted, staring out the window, to hide the drops seeping\u003cbr\u003efrom her eyes. When that failed, she rolled her eyes upward, clenched her\u003cbr\u003ejaw, and commanded her emotions back into their burrow. Who was she\u003cbr\u003ecrying for anyway? Frank? Herself ? The Lady?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe weathered cedar siding of Mount St. Helens’ Lodge melded into\u003cbr\u003ethe lowering mist as Frank parked in the empty parking lot. Spirit Lake\u003cbr\u003eneeded a clear day to mirror the proud peak. Today tips of white on the\u003cbr\u003erolling waves were the only color in the murky lake. Mount St. Helens hid\u003cbr\u003eherself in the gunmetal clouds. The brisk wind off the lake gave Jenn an\u003cbr\u003eexcuse for the moisture in her eyes as she stepped from the cab. She fished\u003cbr\u003ein her pocket for a tissue while pulling her gear out with her left hand.\u003cbr\u003eWith her pack slung over her shoulder and her camera around her neck,\u003cbr\u003eshe finally had both hands free to blow her nose and wipe her eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank beat her to it. His hard fingers gripped her chin, gently this\u003cbr\u003etime, as he tilted her face upward. He wiped each eye, the tear path over\u003cbr\u003eher jaw, then handed her the handkerchief. “Blow.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe mutely obeyed and handed the red square back. He nodded.\u003cbr\u003e“That’s better.” He stared into the eyes still brightened by the tears he’d been\u003cbr\u003eaware of but refused to comment on. He unclenched his jaw by conscious\u003cbr\u003eeffort. “So I’m a sick sixty.” He shook his head. “Let’s see what Harry’s serving\u003cbr\u003ethis morning.” He transferred his grip to her elbow and aimed her\u003cbr\u003etoward the lodge. At Sig’s short, sharp bark, Frank shook his head. “Sorry,\u003cbr\u003efella. Stay. You drive those cats of Harry’s crazy.” Frank slammed the door.\u003cbr\u003eThe sound was lost in the moaning of the wind in the giant Douglas fir\u003cbr\u003etrees that sheltered the aged building from storms off the lake.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey ducked their heads and clattered up the worn stairs to the lodge\u003cbr\u003eas the first squall whipped through the windbreak and spattered giant\u003cbr\u003etears across the landscape.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Anybody home?” The wind wrenched the door from Frank’s grasp\u003cbr\u003eand slammed it against the wall. He shoved Jenn inside, then stepped out\u003cbr\u003eto pull the door securely shut behind him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenn shook the drops from her hair while allowing her eyes to adjust\u003cbr\u003eto the gloom. The main lighting came from a roaring fire in the rough\u003cbr\u003erock fireplace, since the storm had darkened the windows. “Harry,” she\u003cbr\u003ecalled, raising her voice against the wind. “You here?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank took her elbow again and led her across the cavernous room.\u003cbr\u003e“Harry!” He thumped the scarred wooden counter. A ragged-eared tomcat,\u003cbr\u003ejarred from his nap on the counter, leaped to the floor and disappeared\u003cbr\u003earound the corner.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m comin’. I’m comin’. What’s your hurry?” Harry shuffled through\u003cbr\u003ethe door still muttering, gray hair standing on end, bulbous nose and\u003cbr\u003echeeks stained a permanent blush from his favorite beverage. He stopped,\u003cbr\u003epeered at the couple through sleepy eyes, then a grin split his face from ear\u003cbr\u003eto ear. “Well, I’ll be…” Harry finished his sentence with his trademark\u003cbr\u003erun of profanities. He nodded as if confirming what his eyes told him. “Ya\u003cbr\u003egrowed up, kid.” He wiped his hand on his pant leg and reached for Jenn’s\u003cbr\u003ehand. “What’n blazes are you doing up here? Thought you’d forgotten all\u003cbr\u003eabout us, you’n all that big city glamour.” He glanced back at the picture\u003cbr\u003eon the wall. Even in the dimness, the striking beauty of the face on the\u003cbr\u003ecover of \u003ci\u003eTime \u003c\/i\u003emagazine arrested one’s attention. He peered at the woman\u003cbr\u003ein front of him, then back at the cover. He stared at her a lifetime, his\u003cbr\u003ewoodsman’s eyes trained to note minute detail. He nodded, a barely perceptible\u003cbr\u003emotion. “Had to come home, did ya? Back to The Lady?” He\u003cbr\u003esqueezed the hand he still held and grasped her elbow with the other. “You\u003cbr\u003epoor child, why’d ya wait so long?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhile Jenn usually hated pity, she felt the moisture rising again at the\u003cbr\u003edepths of his scrutiny. It stabbed like needles, piercing her soul as she held\u003cbr\u003ehis gaze.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I don’t know, Harry”–she swallowed–“but I’m here now.” The\u003cbr\u003eneedles lanced the pustules deep within where she’d buried her bitterness\u003cbr\u003eand disappointment and left them to fester. She clenched her teeth and\u003cbr\u003esqueezed his hand, fighting against the incipient tears. “So, Truman,\u003cbr\u003ewhat’s happened to your famous hospitality? Frank promised me you’d\u003cbr\u003ekept a good supply up here and…”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“And, darlin’, you need a drink. Cocoa, Frank?” He grinned up at the\u003cbr\u003esheriff leaning on the counter. “Or…?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Always the comedian, aren’t you?” Frank thumped the old man on\u003cbr\u003ethe shoulder. “Let’s have some ‘or,’ and make it a stiff one. By the way, I\u003cbr\u003ebrought you a couple of cases of Coke. ’Fraid you might run out.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“If you ain’t a real friend.” Harry led them toward the bar. “Got plenty\u003cbr\u003eof Schenley. Stuff goes pretty far now, since those busybodies in Olympia\u003cbr\u003ewon’t let nobody come up here.” Never able to say three words without\u003cbr\u003ecussing, some of which he ran together and used as one adjective, he busied\u003cbr\u003ehimself behind the counter as Jenn and Frank perched on the stools in front\u003cbr\u003eof the bar. He set up three glasses, ice, whiskey, and topped them off with\u003cbr\u003eCoke from a can, but not much of the latter. After sliding two drinks across\u003cbr\u003ethe bar, he raised his own. “To comin’ home, darlin’. To comin’ home.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenn swallowed against the rising tide and raised her glass in salute.\u003cbr\u003eThe barely diluted whiskey burned a path through the gathering tears and\u003cbr\u003ewarmed a puddle in her middle. \u003ci\u003eWhat’s happening to me? \u003c\/i\u003eshe thought. \u003ci\u003eI\u003cbr\u003edon’t cry and mush about like this. Get your act together, girl. Tears don’t\u003cbr\u003ebelong in your life. You’re tough. Remember? \u003c\/i\u003eShe coughed and slid her\u003cbr\u003eempty glass back across the counter.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Last time you was here, you was too young for my special brew.”\u003cbr\u003eHarry refilled the glass, the Coke barely staining the amber Schenley.\u003cbr\u003e“Now, you want a second? Quicklike–what’s gone on with you, girl?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Just fill it up, Harry. The story’s much too long and boring.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank watched the by-play, already on his third drink. He’d poured his\u003cbr\u003eown after the first splashed down and begged for a chaser. By now he could\u003cbr\u003efeel the glow creeping around his gut and out to his extremities. He sipped,\u003cbr\u003efinally taking time to allow his tongue some appreciation of the smooth,\u003cbr\u003ewarm whiskey flavor. His eyes and mind searched for clues to Jenn’s comment.\u003cbr\u003eWhatever had happened to her, it certainly wouldn’t be boring. She\u003cbr\u003ebristled like a baby porcupine before it had any sense, ready to throw its\u003cbr\u003equills at any distraction. Frank glanced down at the tabby cat twining\u003cbr\u003earound his ankles. Sig would have a field day with cat scent all over him.\u003cbr\u003eAt the same moment, the ratchety \u003ci\u003echir-r-r-r \u003c\/i\u003eof a raccoon preceded a sleepy\u003cbr\u003ebandit face from the dark end of the bar. Cat and coon shared the premises\u003cbr\u003eon an equal basis, but for the top heavy number of felines.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Well, look at you.” The smile in Jenn’s voice broke across her face as\u003cbr\u003eshe spied the newcomer. The raccoon tried to slip a hand into Harry’s glass\u003cbr\u003ebut dodged when the man pushed him away. Harry reached in his breast\u003cbr\u003epocket before the raccoon could and handed Jenn a peanut.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Here. Give the old fool this, and he’ll be your friend for all time.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenn held the peanut out on the flat of her palm. The raccoon\u003cbr\u003esnatched it with one black paw. Black eyes sparkled in the light as he held\u003cbr\u003eit daintily with both front paws, chewed the shell open, and picked the\u003cbr\u003enut meat out. Jenn dug in her pack for her strobe, attached it to her camera,\u003cbr\u003eand snapped off the lens cap. “Give him another peanut,” she ordered\u003cbr\u003eand focused.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe raccoon ambled toward her, sniffing cautiously at the strange\u003cbr\u003econtraption. When a peanut materialized in front of his nose, he sat back\u003cbr\u003eon his haunches and proceeded to dine. The first flash sent him scurrying\u003cbr\u003efor cover, but another peanut turned him back around. The best shot was\u003cbr\u003eof the tubby bandit dunking a peanut in one of the glasses.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWatching the photographer in action, Frank searched for traces of the\u003cbr\u003elittle girl he once knew in the professional before him. She was quick, her\u003cbr\u003emotions smooth and yet unhurried. She muttered to her subject more in\u003cbr\u003ethe way of encouragement, as if the animal could understand every suggestion\u003cbr\u003eshe made.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“More peanuts!” The snap in her soft tone was a definite command.\u003cbr\u003e“Now, back away.” The two men did as ordered. The raccoon lapped it all\u003cbr\u003eup–the liquor, the peanuts, and the attention.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenn swiped an errant strand of aged honey hair back from her cheek\u003cbr\u003eas she dropped the camera back around her neck and dug the lens cover\u003cbr\u003eout of her shirt pocket. She laughed, pointing to her waddling subject.\u003cbr\u003e“He beats most of the models I’ve worked with lately. Can’t say much for\u003cbr\u003ethe lighting, but, Harry, you’re a great assistant. Bet he’ll sleep for a week\u003cbr\u003eafter all that.” She scratched the animal behind its ears and stroked down\u003cbr\u003ethe silky back. “No wonder they used to make coats out of your cousins.”\u003cbr\u003eShe continued stroking. The raccoon rolled over for her to scratch his\u003cbr\u003etummy. His soft purring encouraged her to keep it up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What a sweetheart.” She laughed, suddenly conscious that she’d\u003cbr\u003egone off into her own world. She started to pick up her drink but remembered\u003cbr\u003ewhose hands had been in it last. Besides, it was empty. She paused.\u003cbr\u003eHer ear tuned to an inner voice as her eyes sought Frank’s. A miniature\u003cbr\u003efreshet of joy trickled from around her icy interior, like snowmelt in the\u003cbr\u003efirst rays of spring sun.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank’s hard stare was like looking into reflective sunglasses. He raised\u003cbr\u003ehis drink, as in a toast, and tossed it back with one swallow.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrozen again, Jenn turned. “Make it a stiff one, Harry.” When she\u003cbr\u003efailed to rub his belly anymore, the raccoon sniffed at the other glasses and\u003cbr\u003ethen ambled off into the darkness.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“He’ll sleep good now,” Harry broke the painful silence. “At least till\u003cbr\u003eI feed the cats.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank turned back to the bar, his elbows resting on the worn surface.\u003cbr\u003eHe poured a straight shot and swallowed appreciatively, nodding at Harry.\u003cbr\u003e“That was a great show, old man. Now, when are you coming out?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMuttering his usual, Harry bristled like one of the old cats in a squall.\u003cbr\u003e“You know better’n that, Frank. I said I was staying here, and I meant\u003cbr\u003eevery word of it. If I leave here and that mountain takes my home, I’ll just\u003cbr\u003edie anyway, so I’m staying.” He hoisted a bottle. “Me’n my special stock\u003cbr\u003ehere. We’ll wait it out in a secret shaft I know of.” His ruddy face sobered.\u003cbr\u003e“And if it’s my time to go, I can’t think of any other place on this whole\u003cbr\u003eearth that I’d rather be. This is my home. Why, you know I even own the\u003cbr\u003etop of The Lady. Went toe-to-toe, me and Burlington Northern.” He\u003cbr\u003estared into the glass in his hand. “You can’t make me go, Frank.” His voice\u003cbr\u003esoftened. “Don’t try to make me go.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank took a deep breath. “Just doing my job, old man. They tell me\u003cbr\u003eto go up and reason with old Harry, so now I can say I’ve done so. Again.\u003cbr\u003eI didn’t expect you to change your mind and besides, Jenn and I”–he\u003cbr\u003ebrushed her arm–“we were really hoping The Lady’d be out. The sky was\u003cbr\u003eclearing in Toutle.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenn flinched at his touch. He was as changeable as spring weather.\u003cbr\u003eWho–where was the real Frank McKenzie?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe sheriff continued. “This city gal here needed to get out and get\u003cbr\u003eher boots dirty. Sight her camera on our mountain, ’stead of some idiot\u003cbr\u003ewalking bundle of bones.” He slurred his words only slightly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sight all you want. I’m not leavin’, but you come on back any day.\u003cbr\u003eWe’ll all still be here, me’n the cats and coon. And of course, St. Helens.\u003cbr\u003eShe sure is making it hard to sleep at night. Those earthquakes giving me\u003cbr\u003ea crick in my neck.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Earthquakes?” Jenn joined back in the conversation.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yeah. All that rockin’ and rollin’ even knocked some stuff off my\u003cbr\u003eshelves. Lost a brand-new bottle the other night. Smashed all over the\u003cbr\u003efloor. What a waste.” He ran his fingers through his thinning hair, making\u003cbr\u003eit stand even higher. “Shame.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Have the quakes done any more damage that you know of ?” Frank\u003cbr\u003easked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Not down here, but I know that’s what opened those two craters at\u003cbr\u003ethe summit. Keeps all the geologists hyped up too. They got tracking\u003cbr\u003eequipment scattered all over the place. Talked to a couple up by Dog’s\u003cbr\u003eHead. They say that there bulge to the subpeak happened in the last eruption,\u003cbr\u003e’bout a hundred years ago. Now it’s swelling again. Been avalanches,\u003cbr\u003etoo. ’Course, everyone you talk to has a different theory.” Harry shook his\u003cbr\u003ehead. “Near as I can tell, they’re all guessing what’ll happen next, just like\u003cbr\u003ethe rest of us.” He picked up a half-grown black cat and cuddled the animal\u003cbr\u003eunder his chin, all the while stroking the soft fur. “The only thing I\u003cbr\u003eknow for sure is that I sure ain’t leaving.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I get the point, Harry.” Frank pulled himself upright. He hadn’t felt\u003cbr\u003eso relaxed in a long time, a mighty long time. “But we’d better get ourselves\u003cbr\u003eback down that road. I’ve done my duty, the most pleasurable part\u003cbr\u003eof my duty. Next time I come, you need anything?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Na. When you coming?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank switched his gaze to meet the questioning look in Jenn’s eyes.\u003cbr\u003e“The next time the mountain decides to show herself. She’s what this\u003cbr\u003ephotographer friend of ours came to see. You don’t suppose she made the\u003cbr\u003etrek clear across the continent to have a drink or two with a couple of old\u003cbr\u003ehas-beens like us, do you?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Speak for yourself, you young pup. I gotta lot of living yet in this old\u003cbr\u003ehide of mine. You just get yourselves up here, and I’ll walk your legs right\u003cbr\u003einto the ground. You’ll get some real pictures, gal, you stick with old\u003cbr\u003eHarry.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJenn laughed as she shook her head. “I’ll look forward to it.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’ll bring in those cases of Coke.” Frank slipped his down vest back on.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You think I can’t carry in my own drinks?” Harry puffed up like a\u003cbr\u003ebantamweight prizefighter.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Stow it, Harry. Sig would chew you in pieces if you opened that\u003cbr\u003edoor. You know that.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWater beaded and ran in rivulets down his vest by the time Frank set\u003cbr\u003ethe two cases of Coke on the counter. He shook the drops off his felt hat.\u003cbr\u003e“Pouring harder than ever. Keeps up very long, and we’ll have more flooding.\u003cbr\u003eThe Toutle’s a mess already. Come on, lady, let’s hit the road before it\u003cbr\u003ewashes away.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Thanks, Harry. These have been the best hours I’ve spent in a long\u003cbr\u003etime.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Don’t wait so long, girl.” Harry walked them to the door. “See you,\u003cbr\u003esheriff. You keep all those gawkers away now, you hear. Don’t let old Harry\u003cbr\u003emake a penny up here. My boats are gonna rot out with no one to rent\u003cbr\u003ethem. And what’s a lodge without guests? That’s right. You and old Dixie\u003cbr\u003eLee. Keep an honest man from earning an honest living.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Maybe it’ll all calm down by the time fishing season opens. Then\u003cbr\u003eyou’ll really be in the bucks.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yeah, and overrun by all them sightseers.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank snorted as he swung open the door. “Can’t have it both ways,\u003cbr\u003eold man.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Nope, just wish we was back the way it was. I’ve had a good life here.\u003cbr\u003eThe best.” Harry stared at his boot toes a moment. “See you soon?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Soon.” Jenn gripped his hand. “Very soon.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank and Jenn dove for the Blazer, both of them laughing as they\u003cbr\u003educked their heads against the squall that tried to wrest the car door from\u003cbr\u003eFrank’s grasp. Jenn threw herself up to the seat just as Sig leaped into the\u003cbr\u003eback, his tail brushing across her face. She sputtered, wiping both dog hair\u003cbr\u003eand raindrops off her chin, then honked the horn at Harry when she realized\u003cbr\u003ethe fogged windshield prevented him from seeing her wave.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrank honked again as he backed the truck and turned to head down\u003cbr\u003ethe loopy road. Beautiful it was any time of year, but treacherous would\u003cbr\u003ebe more likely today. Good thing he had four-wheel drive. They might\u003cbr\u003eneed it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis concern proved unfounded when they pulled into the Toutle\u003cbr\u003eparking lot, an hour and a half later. The river had nearly crested the road\u003cbr\u003ein a couple of places, but Highway 504 was holding its own. Both Frank\u003cbr\u003eand Jenn had retreated to their inner dungeons as they returned to civilization,\u003cbr\u003eneither of them speaking for the final twenty-five miles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Thanks for the ride.” Jenn picked up her pack, prepared to step out.\u003cbr\u003eHer teeth clenched on some of the choice words she’d been rehearsing to\u003cbr\u003edeliver. Instead she went with her heart. “If you ever want, I mean, need\u003cbr\u003eto talk about what happened, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” \u003ci\u003eBesides,\u003cbr\u003eI’m your friend from those eons ago.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You get some rest,” he ordered, eyes straight ahead. “And for heaven’s\u003cbr\u003esake, eat.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Who do you think you are?” She bit off each word precisely. “My\u003cbr\u003ekeeper?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“By the looks of you, somebody’d better be.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe let the slam of the door answer for her. \u003ci\u003eAnd see if I offer again. Ha!\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003eher inner voice added. Sometimes only the wounded recognized each\u003cbr\u003eother.a novel","brand":"WaterBrook","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303438405861,"sku":"NP9781578567874","price":22.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781578567874.jpg?v=1767742156","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/the-way-of-women-isbn-9781578567874","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}