Chapter Three #2
“It is the perfect environment,” Raine said. “Water in the creek close by, rodents, birds and ground squirrels, so plenty to eat. Rocks to sun themselves. No one around. I can see rattlesnakes thriving here.”
“That’s one thing to keep in mind when climbing. Watch where you’re putting your fingers,” Harlow cautioned.
“You know I will,” Raine assured.
“This is where Stella and Sam came to climb the boulders and realized Denver was the killer. There are two boulders here. They call them the Twin Devils. Both are high balls and take a tremendous amount of work. As far as I know, no one but me has been here trying the climb in months. Most people don’t even know about them. ”
Raine shot her a sharp glance. “You’ve been coming out here alone to attempt a high ball? Did you let anyone know where you were going?”
Harlow didn’t answer. This place had been her refuge. She felt safe and at peace. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know where she was. Sometimes it felt good to disappear from the real world.
“It isn’t wise, and I think you know that. If you had an accident on the boulder, or a snake bit you, or any other number of things, no one would be able to help you.”
It wasn’t like she didn’t know that. It was just that with everything going on in her life, she needed to escape from reality. But Raine was right: she should have let someone know where she was.
That brought up the issues of personal freedom and accountability to friends and family.
“I guess I can’t say too much,” Raine said. “I’m being a hypocrite by scolding you for doing something dangerous on your own. I certainly wanted to be alone when I did my backpacking trips. I even got rid of my Garmin, hoping they couldn’t track me.”
“Isn’t it weird that we both have the same tendencies?” Harlow asked. “I honestly never noticed the similarities between us.”
Raine sent her a small smile. “I screwed up when I was a kid because I was young and na?ve and trusted the wrong man. When that got my father killed and all my family turned their backs on me, I vowed I would always know what was going on, the truth, no matter how bad it was. What that’s done after witnessing betrayal the world over is to keep me from believing in anyone other than our very tight circle. ”
“And I’m the same way,” Harlow admitted. “I know I’m incapable of a relationship because I have absolutely no faith in men. And yes, I know that’s not a good thing, but no matter what I’ve done to change it, I can’t see myself with anyone.”
“Neither can I,” Raine admitted.
The Jeep turned onto the much more overgrown road as they entered the property.
At one time, there had been a cattle fence, but most of it was on the ground.
Only an occasional broken pole, rotting due to the weather, was partially standing, and even those were effectively hidden by the tall, out-of-control grass.
The barn came into sight, roof sagging and walls buckling. From the angle they drove in, they could see that at least two walls were still intact. Possibly a third. In the early morning light, with the frost still on the ground, the wood glistened, appearing otherworldly.
Raine pulled the Jeep close to the dilapidated barn and turned off the motor. She took a deep breath and turned toward Harlow. “Wilder was sent out on a mission by Blom. He failed to check in, and they’ve been quietly trying to find him. Blom believes him to be deceased.”
Harlow sat very still. Raine was an analyst and a very good one at that. She put together pieces of puzzles no one else even connected.
“I figure he’s at your house, and Rainier’s protecting him, even from Blom. You know I won’t say a word, but it’s a relief to know he’s alive.”
Harlow pressed her lips together. “You’d have to ask Rainier what he’s doing at my house.”
Raine nodded. “I understand, but if you need to talk, you know you have me.”
“I do know,” Harlow agreed—and she did. Raine had proved herself over and over to be a true friend.
Raine opened the crates so the dogs could leap out. They immediately began inspecting their surroundings, running after one another and sniffing as much of the area as they could take in fast.
Harlow slid out of the Jeep, strapping her camera around her neck.
She didn’t want to miss the frost on the building or on the surrounding grounds.
And she desperately wanted out of the conversation.
Many, many times, their group of friends had utilized information they’d gotten from Raine, putting her in a compromised position.
It didn’t seem fair not to reciprocate, especially when Harlow knew Raine would never tell a soul.
She didn’t make mistakes when it came to classified information.
But it was Wilder. No one else would ever know, including Wilder, that he would always be Harlow’s choice. She would protect him with everything she was, everything she had.
Harlow pushed him out of her mind and began to walk around the old, sagging barn, looking for the most interesting shots.
The barn was a masterpiece, a relic of the history of early homesteaders, it was that old.
The walls leaned on three sides, beams sagged, the roof partially fallen in and the front completely gone, the timbers rotted and aged, lying on the ground, marking where the doors to the barn had once been.
She had been determined to catch the early morning frost glistening off the building.
She’d seen it several times when she’d come early to climb, and it was beautiful.
Wet vines captured the dew in their leaves so when they were full, they would tip and spill water down the warped wood.
Spiderwebs crisscrossed the sides of the barn, capturing the early morning condensation so the webs appeared to weep for the loss of the building.
Spun silk decorated the span of eaves, blowing gently in the breeze like lacy doilies.
Nature was already reclaiming the grounds around the structure, creeping up the walls and over the roof as well as into the interior, adding to the dilapidated beauty of the barn.
Inside, the floorboards had rotted and fallen under the weight of several vines that had crept into the building.
Overhead, hanging from the sagging beams, were several rusted old tools.
They looked like something out of a horror movie.
Morning light was beginning to shine through the cracks and gaps in the roof to illuminate the old rusty hay hook.
The light hit the hay hook and part of the long-rusted blade of an ancient hay saw.
The third hanging tool was a billhook. All three tools looked more like weapons to her in the empty interior of the barn.
Beneath the rotting floorboards, she could hear the rustle of mice and lizards.
The large, round eyes of a barn owl stared down at her.
Very carefully, she stepped over debris and snapped several shots of the tools in the light streaking through the gaps in the roof.
It was really the outside of the building and the surrounding grounds she wanted to capture, but she hadn’t been able to resist going inside for a few photos.
“Mice are everywhere beneath the boards and most likely in the loft,” she told Raine.
“Going inside is a hazard. It’s early, so I doubt that any snakes are out, but they would have a field day hunting in there.
I wouldn’t want to chance it. Too many places for them to hide, and we could step on them if we move around too much. ”
“Your best shots are going to be outside, right?” Raine asked.
Harlow nodded. “The sun is coming up and casting the perfect light on the side of the barn. See the way it lights up the spiderwebs and vines? Everything glistens like morning frost and turns it into an icy-looking fantasy.”
As she was speaking, she began taking the shots that she had been planning for some time.
She knew exactly what she wanted to capture and how.
She loved old barns and felt their historical significance.
They often provided a slice of life in the century and location where they were still standing after a good hundred years and often more.
It wasn’t just simple nostalgia to her; there was reverence there, a feeling evoked by the people who had lived in a much more difficult yet simpler time. The barns represented the struggles in their lives, the way they fed their families and worked together as a community.
Harlow knew she was emotional over bygone families because she didn’t have one.
She dreamt of having a man who loved her the way Rainier loved Shabina or Sam loved Stella.
Those were the kind of men who took care of their family.
They protected them and the relationship.
She couldn’t imagine the men looking outside their relationships for anyone else.
She could pour her feelings into her photography, capturing images that appealed to others because the emotion in her photos was raw, visceral, very real.
And no one realized it was her emotions, that she was standing naked and vulnerable before the world, showing them the pain of her family’s ugly secrets.
She was safe behind the camera. No one ever saw her.
She had moved to Knightly to be invisible—to escape from being a public figure and associated with her father and his “family” campaigns.
The world had watched her grow up, and those who loved—or hated—her father were far too invested in her life.
She’d never been comfortable with having the microscope on her, and once she realized what a depraved deviant her father truly was, she didn’t want any association with him.
The fact that she’d broken away, in the eyes of the media, made her an ungrateful brat.