He bit back a groan as he set down the sledgehammer. “Let’s check Tot. Have some water and something besides candy.”
“But...”
He shook his head, held firm. “We’re both sweating and it’s freezing. That’s not a good combination.” He checked his watch. “Almost four. We’ll have two more hours of sunlight, if you can call it that.”
Reluctantly, she assented, and they returned to the ATV to find Tot stirring. Kit tucked in the blanket around Tot while he tried to rest his quivering muscles before he rooted around in his pack.
“I’ll make dinner. Should I fix up a bottle?”
“I already have a few premixed in the cooler, but maybe we should try to give her solid stuff when she’s a little more awake. The bottle would be good later before bed, right?”
He pursed his lips. “Makes great sense to me.”
She looked happy that he agreed.
“Back in a jiffy.” At the campfire, he used his penknife to slit open the meal pouches and splash in some water before he nestled them near the flames. Probably not exactly to specifications, but he wasn’t picky. Never, ever again would he take indoor heating for granted. Or running water. Or roads. Or mattresses.
When the packets were blackened, he yanked them free with a stick and let them cool until he could carry them by the corners. Snowflakes collected on his cap, so he shook his head like a dog before he hopped back into the ATV. Totwas sitting up in the front seat, gumming a graham cracker. He leaned over and kissed her on top of the strawberry cap Kit had managed to get on her head. It remained to be seen how long it would stay there. She chortled something at him that probably meant, “You look like a man who’s on the verge of collapse.”
He felt it too, in every complaining rib and joint. The fatigue was getting more difficult to ignore.
Kit joined him in the passenger seat, and he delivered his foil packets, full of steamy noodles that were still slightly crunchy. She provided two plastic spoons, and they dug in.
“Delicious.” The steam from the packet curled around her cheeks. “Reminds me of the days...” She trailed off.
“Keep going,” he said lightly, hungry to know more about her.
“I was married, briefly.”
He hid his surprise. “Really?”
“We went backpacking a few times and ate camping food. Mitch was a whiz at cooking on the trail.”
“A handy skill. How long were you married?”
“Six months.”
“Ah.” He was desperate to know more, to be the person she could confide in, but he knew enough not to push.
“I was young, just before I turned twenty-one.” She ate another spoonful of crunchy noodles and stared into the gooey mess. “After a couple months, I found out I was pregnant.”
Pregnant.Another surprise. Again he waited to see if she would continue.
“I didn’t want the baby.” She said it a shade too loudly, chin up and staring at him, reading his reaction. When hesimply nodded, she took a breath. “Mitch had been acting distant, not coming home some nights, which he said was due to late business meetings, but I guess I knew the truth even if I didn’t want to acknowledge it. In my fantasy world, I was hoping when I told him about the baby he’d light up, hug and kiss me, and say, ‘Honey, this is the best news ever. You’re going to be a great mom.’ And then I’d believe it and start to feel happy about it too. I’d suddenly want to be a mother. All those feelings I was supposed to have would emerge.” She twirled her spoon. “Does that shock you? That I wasn’t filled with maternal feelings like other women? That’s bad, right?”
She watched him intently. It was both a question and a statement, and he heard the well of fear in it, that he would condemn her as she’d condemned herself for years, he suspected.
He said a silent prayer that his words would be gentle, godly, true. “Not bad, Kit. That’s honest. You were young. Scared and uncertain. How did Mitch take it?”
She grimaced. “That whole fantasy thing crumbled right quick. He told me he didn’t love me anymore, that our marriage had been a mistake, and the baby was my problem to deal with. That was the second time I saw love fizzle like a blown-out match.”
The second time. “Your parents?”
She didn’t answer for a minute, lost in a memory. “After Mitch left, I went back to my mom’s. I didn’t have much choice since I couldn’t manage the rent for our apartment by myself. She let me stay, but clearly she was disgusted. She’d never liked Mitch, told me as much. Said I’d regret marrying him, and though she wouldn’t come out andsay it, I knew that was how she felt about Dad. She rued marrying my father and I could tell I’d disappointed her every bit as much as he did. So I didn’t tell her about the baby. I pretended there wasn’t one. Worked. Slept. Ate. I saved up like a fiend and moved into a one-room rental as soon as I possibly could.”
“You didn’t have any contact with your father at that time?”
She shook her head. “Dad was convicted when I was seventeen. He’d call from prison and Mom would let it ring. Once I ran to get it, and she grabbed the phone from me and slammed it down before I could say a word. ‘He’s dead to me,’ she said.” The pain rippled across Kit’s face. “I couldn’t take it. I started yelling, throwing all the Christianese back at her. ‘You say we’re meant to forgive because God did, but you won’t.’”
