Sheltering Love
by Elizabeth Goddard
A scientist
reveals his discoveries. . .unless his survival depends on hiding them.
Graeme
has existed in a state of dread for far too long. Conducting research high in
the crowns of ancient redwoods, he's almost convinced that he's not hiding like
a coward from the demons of his past. That is, until the stunning Alexa
discovers him and tips his world in the tree tops over. Then he's torn between
showing the world what he's found. . . and disappearing altogether.
This
is Alexa's last chance to prove she's capable of producing an award-winning
documentary. But she never expected she'd have to return to the
place she fled years ago. A place that still holds nightmares for her. When
Graeme stands in the way of completing the documentary, Alexa wants to know
why.
When
their greatest fears collide in the heart of the wilderness, Alexa and Graeme
both must learn to trust in the sovereignty of God's plan, not only for the
moment, but for the rest of their lives. Can they each bury the past long enough
to nurture love?
Chapter
1
Siberia couldn't
be worse.
Or at least
Alexa Westover felt like she'd been exiled. Traveling from New York to the west
coast to work on a documentary, she was returning to the place where she'd spent
her childhood. Northern California and the redwoods would ignite memories and
most of them she wouldn't welcome.
She jiggled the
key in the lock of the pinkish, paint-chipped door to her room at the Redwood
Motor Inn. Swinging it open, she threw her luggage on the double bed covered
with a floral spread and breathed in the heavy scent of cheap lavender air
freshener.
Barry Seymour,
her cameraman, handed off her forgotten toiletry bag and her briefcase holding
her laptop.
"Is that
everything?" she asked.
He grunted and
took one step over to the door to his room.
She slammed
hers. A few seconds later, she heard his door slam as well. Barry hadn't said a
word on the hour and a half drive up the coast to the state park. She plopped on
the bed and kicked off her heels. A prima donna couldn't have been more
ungrateful than Alexa at the moment.
Shame hovered
near her conscience, threatening to temper her exasperation. Landing a job
shortly after getting her degree at Columbia University had been really,
really lucky, even for her. A million people dreamed of creating a
successful documentary, but only one percent were actually given the chance to
see their ideas produced in a professional and lucrative manner. Alexa was one
of the few, thanks to a keen-eyed professor at Columbia who'd seen something in
her worth recommending to his friend at Simon Productions.
Clive Gates
quickly assessed her talents and hired her. But soon Alexa found herself in deep
with this powerful man in the film making industry. She'd been his special
project—someone he planned to groom in the business, and now, she was not only
heartbroken, but exiled because she'd dared to speak her mind, challenging him
in front of others.
Who was she
kidding? He'd lost interest in her months ago, personally and professionally,
and the respect she'd initially garnered from her peers was nowhere to be found.
All her ideas and suggestions were continually shot down, placing her business
acumen and creativity into question by everyone at Simon.
She exhaled,
long and slow.
I don't even
know who I am anymore.
Nor did she care
at the moment. The only thing she wanted was a hot shower. She stumbled from the
bed and into the small, sixties-styled bathroom and flipped on the shower to get
things steaming while she put a call into Clive. She'd spent the awkward drive
up the coast formulating her words.
Looking at her
Smartphone, realization dawned. No signal. What? She'd forgotten that
little detail—but then again, she would have thought by now more cell towers
would be installed.
Her chance to
write, direct, and produce her first documentary and make a favorable impression
in this close-knit film community were quickly fading, taking her hopes and
dreams with it. Funny that should happen in the very place where she'd grown
up.
Alexa stomped
into the bathroom. No steam clouded the mirror. No hot water. No cell signal.
What about Internet?
And in the end,
there would probably be no interview with Graeme Hawthorne either. Where had she
gone wrong? Alexa replayed this morning's events in her mind.
Heels clicking
and armed with nothing but an outline of her script, Alexa strode down the
university halls of Humboldt University in Northern California, mentally
preparing herself to interview the leading expert in redwood forest biology for
her documentary. Changing World, Changing Forests—a film about the
effects of climate change on forest ecosystems—hadn't been her first choice, but
she told herself she'd make it shine.
Professor Peter
Bryant had readily agreed to the interview, and she'd sent him the questions a
week ago to help him prepare.
Barry strolled
next to her, taking one step to her every two. Stocky and dressed like a
lumberjack, he preferred to wear casual attire and didn't look like he belonged
at the university. But he'd definitely fit in with their final destination. As
they neared the end of the hall, monarchs took flight in her stomach. Alexa
thumbed through various release forms and looked over her notes as she walked.
"Don't forget to catch the light in his eyes, okay Barry? And let's make sure
his office is quiet enough for good sound—"
"I know what I'm
doing." Barry's cold tone left no doubt to his thoughts.
He had years of
experience as a cameraman, and Alexa would do good to use that to her advantage
rather than alienating the guy. She knew he'd not wanted to accompany her.
Somehow, she'd have to fire up his enthusiasm for the project as well as her own
if she had any hope of creating an award-winning documentary—something she would
need if she was going to take charge of her career again.
The door to
Professor Bryant's office stood open, allowing Alexa entrance into a small
award-certificate and diploma-decorated reception area accented in soft earth
tones. A woman with short, graying hair smiled up at her from a neat
document-laden desk. A nameplate rested next to a bonsai tree, engraved Trish
Thompson.
Her best
professional smile in place, Alexa thrust her hand forward. "Alexa Westover with
Simon Productions. We have an appointment with Professor
Bryant."
Trish slowly
stood as her jaw slid open. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry." She came around the desk.
"Didn't you get my message?"
The monarchs in
Alexa's stomach dive-bombed. "Message?" she asked and waited—her hopes tied up
in the receptionist's answer.
"Professor
Bryant was in a car accident this morning and is in the hospital. I hoped to
catch you before you left, but I must have missed you. Still, your office should
have informed you at some point. I'm sorry for your trouble."
Distress battled
with compassion. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope he's going to be all right."
Alexa waited for
Trish's response, counting on a hopeful outcome.
"Thank you for
your sympathies. I'll be sure to let him know."
"Could we see
him and let him know in person?" Alexa cringed at the way her question sounded.
Was she overstepping?
"I'm afraid that
wouldn't be possible." Trish eased forward and edged her hand under Alexa's
elbow, slowly escorting her to the door. "He won't be available for quite some
time."
With quick
efficiency, Alexa removed her elbow from Trish's grip. "Isn't there anyone else
we can see while we're here? This documentary is time-sensitive and very
important."
Trish seemed to
consider her request but said nothing.
"Please, we've
come a long way."
"There is
someone who might be able to help." Trish scribbled on a piece of paper and
handed it to Alexa. "But, I'll give you fair warning. He won't be easy to find,
nor will it be easy to garner his cooperation."
Alexa glanced at
the paper. Graeme Hawthorne. "No phone number?"
"I don't have
his number, and if I did, I'm sure it wouldn't do you any
good."
What did she
mean by that? "Then how do I find him?"
"He's conducting
his research in the coastal redwoods near Jedediah Smith State Park. Find a
place to hang out with the locals. He'll turn up sooner or later."
"That's very. .
." Strange.
Trish merely
shrugged and mouthed a voiceless `I know' as though she'd heard Alexa's
thoughts.
*
Graeme Hawthorne
took aim with his high powered compound bow and shot the fishing-line-threaded
arrow. The projectile soared toward the canopy and lobbed over one of the lower
branches almost twenty-five feet high.
The call from a local naturalist came early this morning, informing
Graeme there might be a tree taller than Hyperion, the redwood tree
believed to be the world's tallest living thing at just over three hundred
seventy-nine feet.
Seventy feet
taller than the Statue of Liberty.
Climbing the
towering evergreen and dropping a tape measure was the only way to be sure.
After a five mile hike in search of the tree while wearing his pack heavy with
climbing equipment, Graeme refocused his energy. He still had an hour and a half
or more of ascending the trunk to reach the crown, or the top of the tree. He
tied a nylon cord to the fishing line and dragged it over the branch, then did
the same thing with the main rope he would use to climb.
In becoming a
forest canopy scientist, he'd learned his tree-climbing skills from the best
climbers at Humboldt University. More than three hundred feet of rope hanging in
a u-shape over the branch, Graeme assembled his gear, which included a safety
harness, a helmet, and soft-soled boots, and hoisted himself up the tree using a
complex assembly of rope and carabiners.
Sequoia
sempervirens. Latin for forever living.
Do
Not Reproduce without permission
__._,_.___
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