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Chapter One
Stefanie Canfield shouldered her way through the throng of people streaming in the opposite direction. Down on the beach, a fireburst of red stars exploded, followed by raucous whistles of appreciation from the crowd. Beyond, the surf boomed in the darkness. Fog muffled the roar, but from farther out echoed the rhythmic bong of a buoy.
Not an ideal night for Fourth of July fireworks, but Stefanie felt exhilarated anyway and glad she'd come. She smiled and returned a greeting from Eliza Ganzer, the nurse who with an iron hand ruled the office of the town's lone doctor. A friendly wave to Lisa Benedetti reminded Stefanie that she should get her hair trimmed at Lisa's shop next week.
"Hey, Mark, the fire truck looks fantastic!" she called to Mark Higgins, chief of the local volunteer fire department. The old fire truck was on display near the announcer's stand, red paint polished to a showroom gleam. The compliment brought a shine to Mark's leathery face that rivaled the sparkle of the truck's brass trim.
Stefanie had skipped the previous two years of the small-town celebration. The year before last she'd been beside her mother's hospital bed, gripping her mother's thin hand and praying. Two weeks before last year's celebration, Hunter had dropped his devastating news on her. But those dark days were behind her.
"The Stars and Stripes Forever" blared with a squawk from the town's ancient sound system, a squawk that had been there for as long as Stefanie could remember. The tangy aroma of wood smoke rose from bonfires on the beach, and a scent of barbecuing ribs drifted from the busy Do-Si-Do Square Dancers Club stand.
Stefanie paused at a strip of plastic tape marking a reserved parking space and scanned the crowd for her friend Val's bright auburn hair. She and Val were supposed to meet there under the street banner proclaiming that these were Julesburg's "Celebrate Our Century Days."
A car nosed into the reserved space, and old Ben Mosely in his police uniform gestured it to the curb. Dismay jolted Stefanie as she recognized the silver Porsche. She tried to push her feelings aside. The Porsche's occupants were not going to undermine her enjoyment of the night.
But that did not mean she had to put herself through a face-to-face encounter with them.
She turned and tried to melt into the crowd, but curious onlookers had bunched around the car and formed an impenetrable barrier, pinning her against the cold fender. Hunter's blond head and tall frame emerged from the far side of the car. He, busily gladhanding people, didn't see her. Or perhaps he's just choosing to shut me out of his line of vision. Smooth, Hunter, very smooth .
The gaze of the woman stepping out on the passenger's side did not sidestep Stefanie. Her eyes met Stefanie's with silver-blue malice. She added a pointed glance at Stefanie's hip pressed against the car. With a peculiar feeling of guilt, as if she'd been caught trying to claim something that was not hers, Stefanie managed to open a few inches of space between herself and the fender.
The woman didn't speak. Does the eagle speak to its prey? Well, maybe an eagle isn't the best comparison . The lift of eyebrows and the superior smile spoke predatory volumes, but honey-haired Trisha Duvall's Unscrupulous manipulations fell far short of that noble bird's character. Even now, Trisha angled her ring finger so that the streetlight shot the diamond's glitter into Stefanie's eyes.
Stefanie wanted to take cover in the throng, wanted to stomp the moment into insignificance. Yet her muscles seemed frozen, her body impaled under Trisha's chilling gaze. She's enjoying this moment , Stefanie realized. A sudden surge of anger propelled her through the barrier of bodies lining the sidewalk. She ducked around the corner of the nearest building and leaned against it, breathing hard.
Stop it! It's not as if Hunter and Trisha's relationship is some shocking new revelation . Stefanie had learned about the affair and moved out of the house a year ago. Trisha had been living there for months. I'm long over him.
So why am I standing here breathing as if I'd just run a marathon?Was it because Trisha was flashing that diamond ring, the official symbol of a coming marriage? Hunter had made the not unexpected gesture of giving Trisha a far larger diamond than the stone in Stefanie's old ring.
Is that upsetting me? Stefanie tilted her head and pressed it against the cold concrete. No. I don't care. I really don't . Seeing them together was nothing new in tiny Julesburg. She remembered sweeping by Trisha without a second glance on the day she and the lawyer and accountant confronted Hunter at the Cougar Creek Timber Products office.
Yet her earlier sense of exhilaration felt contrived, like something huffed and puffed into a hollow shell of herself. She shook her foot, absentmindedly trying to revive circulation that seemed to have slowed.
Was her agitation at seeing Hunter and Trisha together caused by a subconscious guilt for not trying hard enough to save her marriage? Oh, but I did try! True, her first instinct when she found out about Hunter's betrayals was to throw a suitcase at him and end the marriage on the spot. Go, Hunter, I don't want you anymore .
But she'd not said the words. Instead, she'd looked to the Lord. She'd studied and prayed. About marriage. About forgiveness. She'd believed giving up on the marriage was not what the Lord would have her do. She'd vowed to fight for her marriage. And, of course, back then she'd still loved him.
There was counseling. The marriage seminar in Eugene. The marriage-manual, revive-your-relationship strategies: gourmet meals, negligees, specially planned "dates," determined efforts to communicate. And the prayers, so many fervent prayers.
She clenched her fists as she remembered Hunter's indifferent response. And you, Lord, you were indifferent too ...
Let it go. It's over. Forget it. Just slip through the crowd, walk back up the hill to the house, and watch the fireworks from there.
No!She straightened her spine against the gritty wall and dug her heels into the hard ground. No, I will not run. I'll find Val and we'll sit and watch the fireworks from right here by the beach, exactly as planned .
But as Stefanie started to push herself away from the building, a wave of lightheadedness washed over her. She leaned back against the wall. She hadn't had an episode in months. Oh, Lord, please, not here, not now. Don't let me collapse and make some weird scene .
The prayer came unbidden. Instantly, she pushed it from her mind and instead drew on what the doctors had instructed her to do when she felt an attack coming on. Take deep, calming breaths. Open eyes to help retain balance. Relax each muscle individually. Stretch out the arms. Don't panic.
Easy for them to say . The dampness of her palms chilled against the cold concrete. She couldn't stretch her arms, but she moved her hands a few inches. Her fingers trembled. How could she not panic when claustrophobia tightened her throat and numbed her hands?
And the worst part, not knowing what might come after this lightheaded claustrophobia ...
"Stef, what's wrong?"
Stefanie hadn't realized her eyes had closed and her jaw had clenched until she heard Val Halstead's voice. With relief, she opened her eyes and felt the gathering tide of the attack weaken and recede.
"Stef?"
"Present and accounted for." Stefanie managed a smile. She rotated her shoulders to relax them. "I'm fine."
" Fine? If you clutch that wall any tighter, you're going to come away with concrete in your fingernails." Val stepped closer, peering at Stefanie with shrewd green eyes. "Uh-oh. I recognize the symptoms. An ex-husband sighting, right?"
Stefanie stepped away from the building and busied herself by dusting grit from her hands.
"And it wasn't just the ex, was it? You saw them together, the Plywood King and his Liposuction Queen, playing the royal couple."
In spite of her shakiness, Stefanie had to laugh. Wouldn't Hunter and Trisha both have purple fits if they knew what Val said about them?
"And I noticed they arrived in the royal coach, of course. I wonder how the Queen will feel if the royal coach gets repossessed?"
Stefanie had kept the details of the mill's financial problems to herself, but rumors were rampant. She did not intend to add to them, not even to her best friend, Valerie. She brushed her hands against her pants. "C'mon, let's go find a place to sit--"
"What are they doing here anyway?" Val stepped out to the sidewalk and peered at the floodlit announcer's stand. The streetlight brought out the red in Val's auburn hair. "I can't imagine Trisha being eager to dash out here and mingle with the peasants. Or is this some civic duty Hunter does every year?"
"No, not if he can help it." Early in their marriage, Stefanie had dragged Hunter to a couple of celebrations, but he'd never come on his own. So why are Hunter and Trisha here tonight?
Stefanie and Val moved with the flow of the crowd toward the grassy slope overlooking the beach. The Fourth of July celebration of this small town on the Oregon coast always drew an astonishing number of people. Outsiders as well as locals came to enjoy Julesburg's friendly, old-fashioned atmosphere. Stefanie was pleased that she felt not even a twinge when she spotted Hunter and Trisha together in the announcer's stand, blond heads tipped intimately together.
"I'll bet that between them, they're wearing enough hair spray to anchor a battleship," the ever-loyal Val observed.
The top of the rock wall overlooking the beach was already lined with people. Stefanie and Val found a good spot below where they could lean back against the wall, under the dangling feet. Val, ever prepared, had brought blankets and vinyl cushions.
The announcer, Wally Greet, president of what passed for a Chamber of Commerce in Julesburg, was making chatty comments over the microphone about the origins of the upcoming pageant. "This is our thirty-fifth year, and in case you didn't know it, folks, I'm proud to say that yours truly was one of the original ‘Indians.’" Wally had taken over the announcing job after Stefanie's grandfather died and would no doubt have it until his own passing.
"You okay now?" Val asked.
"Sure, I'm fine." Stefanie draped a blanket around her shoulders and scooted the cushion into a more comfortable hollow. "Couldn't be better."
"You really did look a little strange back there. I thought I might have to drape you over my shoulder and haul you off to Dr. Halmoose."
If necessary, big-boned, determined Val could have done exactly that. Stefanie started to make some flippant remark, but changed her mind. A good friend like Val deserved a real explanation.
"Since that car accident I had before you moved here, I've had several of these ..." Stefanie hesitated. "I'm not sure what you'd call them. Episodes, I guess."
"Of ...?"
"They're hard to describe."
"You're talking about the time your car went over the edge of some mountain road?"
Stefanie nodded. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Thinking back to that frightening time still made her edgy. "I'd driven out there after a terrible argument with Hunter. I needed to get away for a little while. But the road was muddy, and on a slick curve I just skidded over the edge. The car rolled several times before it hit the bottom of a ravine. I was trapped there with the car wrapped around me like a ... metal coffin." Her throat closed up as she remembered the helplessness of being trapped. She flexed her fingers and waited a moment for the feeling to pass. "The steering wheel was jammed so tight against my chest I could hardly breathe."
Val reached over and squeezed Stefanie's hand under the blanket. "Oh, sweetie, I'd never realized it was that awful."
"A couple of hunters found me a few hours later, but it took a crew with the jaws of life even longer to get there and extricate me."
"You must have been terrified."
"Yeah, I was. And after that I started having these ... episodes. Sometimes they come without warning, but usually I get this strange, light-headed feeling first. Then I get a feeling of claustrophobia, as if I'm about to suffocate."
"As if you're trapped in the car again."
"Exactly like that. A few times, early on, I physically collapsed. More often, it's simply several minutes or a half hour later, and I have no memory of the time in between. It happened once at Fit 'n' Fun. Tina said I got a glazed look on my face and sat on a bench for a while." Stefanie swallowed. She focused her eyes on a sparkler someone was twirling down on the beach. "But another time, I found myself here on the beach, which was a shock, since last I remembered I was talking on the phone at the house. Another time I went into a storm of cleaning and threw out everything, from old photos to the bride and groom figurines from my wedding cake."
"Well, it's one way to get housework done. Sometimes I wish I could just go into a trance when I have to vacuum and dust." Then Valerie's tone turned earnest. "Stef, this really does sound serious. Shouldn't you see a doctor?"
"Oh, I did. An army of them. Dr. Halmoose first, then specialists in Portland. I think they put me through every test known to modern science."
"And?"
"Nothing definitive. They finally decided it was possibly something called a ‘dissociative reaction,’ in which some mental processes split off from the main body of consciousness, due to shock or stress."
"And stress is something you've had more than your share of."
"They gave me tranquilizers and told me I shouldn't drive for a while. They said the episodes would probably fade away, which they have. Until I started to feel ... odd tonight."
"Was there anything, you know, suspicious about the accident? Did the police investigate it?"
The questions startled Stefanie because she saw the implication behind them. "Are you suggesting Hunter--"
"Sweetie, the guy's a scumbag," Valerie stated. "Wouldn't it be convenient for him if you were just out of the way?"
"Yeah, maybe. But even if our relationship is hostile, I don't think it's that hostile. Both Ben and his deputy came out, but there wasn't really anything to investigate."
"Personally, I wouldn't trust our local police force--Which is, what? Two guys with a water pistol and a '73 Pinto?--to solve a dognapping."
"They're okay I've known old Ben for as long as I can remember. And the patrol car is a little newer than '73."
"Well, whatever." Val paused. "Hey, how come you never mentioned anything to me about these ‘episodes’?"
"I guess I didn't want you to think I was weird."
But Stefanie knew there was another reason she hadn't confided in Val earlier. Their friendship had started with a definite wariness on Stefanie's part. Do I want a friendship founded on the fact that we both had straying husbands? she'd asked herself. But in time, they'd gotten past that hurdle and had become good friends.
"Hey, look," Stefanie said, pushing away the bad thoughts, "I think the fog is lifting. I can see Lighthouse Hill."
"Good. Let's get this show on the road."
As if Val's word were command, the microphone suddenly squawked to life. "Okay, folks, we're about to get going now," Wally Greer said with his usual air of self-importance. "But first I want to introduce someone I'm sure most of you already know. One of our leading citizens, Hunter Blackwell, owner of Cougar Creek Timber Products, has volunteered to help with the program this evening. So let's have a big hand for Hunter and his lovely fiancée, Miss Trisha Duvall!"
After the applause died down, Hunter's smooth voice glided through the microphone. "I'm delighted to be with you folks here tonight. I'm proud to be a longtime member of this fine community and happy to be carrying on its traditions. I'm looking forward to the pageant, and I hope you are too."
He sounds uncharacteristically folksy , Stefanie noted. His tone was warm and intimate, as if the audience members were his good buddies. Stefanie's thoughts circled back to Wally's words. Hunter had volunteered to participate tonight? How strange, totally unlike him.
Stefanie focused her attention on the pageant, a reenactment of an early battle with the Indians in which Roman Jules heroically saved the town. Indians in costume shot flaming arrows. An Indian princess shaded her eyes and looked out to sea. Settlers' guns boomed with make-believe smoke. Wally narrated each detail with deadly seriousness. "And at this point, with our brave settlers marooned without food or shelter on the Hill, all appeared lost."
Val doubled over, hooting with laughter in spite of glares from a couple of onlookers. "Oh, this is fantastic, Stef. It's so incredibly awful, it's good."
"The actors are just amateurs from here in town," Stefanie retorted, feeling defensive about her hometown's pageant. But, as two "settlers" collided and sprawled in the sand, she had to admit that it was closer to a Keystone Cops skit than high drama. Ruefully, she told Val about the role she'd once played in the pageant.
"I was the Indian Princess years ago. I was supposed to climb up on that rock down there," she pointed to a dark blob on the beach, "but a sneaker wave rolled in and swamped me, and there I was, sloshing around like an oversized mermaid in buckskin. My hair got caught on the rock, and I was coughing and gasping. The whole pageant screeched to a halt." She managed a laugh, although memory of her teenage embarrassment still touched a tender spot. Later, she'd found out via overheard whispers that she'd been awarded the coveted Indian Princess role only because of her grandfather's status in the community.
"I still can't picture you seventy pounds heavier." Val turned her head to appraise Stefanie in the dim light. "I'd swear you've always had those elegant cheekbones and been slim and willowy as a model."
"Then let me tell you about the miraculous benefits of working out at Julesburg's finest health club, the appropriately named Fit 'n' Fun!" Stefanie crowed with the infectious enthusiasm of a late-night infomercial host. "Come one, come all; all you have to lose is your unwanted pounds!"
Val grinned. "I don't hear the fine print that Fit 'n' Fun is also the only health club in Julesburg, and you own it, but you've sold me. Sign me up for another lifetime or two."
The pageant ended with the bang-up conclusion of a simulated firing of Julesburg's old cannon. As the smoke cleared, Hunter took over.
"Well, folks, wasn't that great? Let's show our hardworking actors and actresses how much we appreciate their efforts." He started clapping, then waited until the applause died down. "Now, as you probably know, the fireworks display is financed by donations from you loyal citizens out there. Well be announcing dedications for those donations from time to time. And this opening shot of the fireworks is dedicated to my very own sweetheart of a fiancée. Trisha, this one's for you!"
A triple explosion of red, white, and blue lit the sky. Appreciative oohs and aahs from the crowd followed.
No ooh or aah from Val. "What someone ought to do," she muttered, "is light a couple of firecrackers under that adulterous oaf and his greedy ‘sweetheart of a fiancée.’"
The fireworks continued, though the drifting fog often softened the colorful explosions to pastel blurs. There was a dedication from Police Chief Ben Mosely to his wife, Twila, and Wally honored his deceased wife with a burst of gold stars. The local bank sent a noisy blast of lime green to its good customers. Stefanie had given a donation from Fit 'n' Fun, but she hadn't asked for a dedication.
Then, in a lull between fireworks, a murmur swept through the crowd. It started in the parking lot and moved like a rolling wave down the slope. People began to stand up and exchange questions.
"What is it?"
"What's happening?"
"Is it part of the fireworks or something special?"
People turned to the north with a shuffle of feet and more murmurs. Stefanie and Val stood up, blankets still wrapped around their shoulders. The night sky had lightened and taken on an odd reddish tint. An acrid scent, stronger than fireworks, stung Stefanie's nose.
"What's going on?" Val stood on tiptoe. "Can you see anything?"
"No.... Yes, there!" Stefanie pointed. A reddish glow filtering through the fog at the north end of town looked like some special fireworks effect. But the odd light hung on too long, and it brightened instead of fading.
The strange reddish glow expanded, covering the entire northern horizon. Stefanie's skin prickled as the eerie infusion of color deepened.
A shout went up from someone standing on the raised announcer's stand. "I can see flames!"
But it was Hunter's hoarse voice blaring over the microphone that galvanized the crowd. "It's the mill! The mill is on fire!"
Excerpted from Whirlpool by Lorena McCourtney. Copyright © 2002 by Lorena McCourtney. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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