The Light Through the Leaves(13)

She replied, “Yes,” to the sugar and walked toward him.

“Over there,” he said, gesturing at the picnic table in her campsite.

She dusted an inch of snow off the table with her bare hands, and he set down the thermos and two cups. He handed her a few packets of sugar from his pocket.

“Thanks,” Ellis said.

She stirred the sugar in with her finger, and he smiled. She dusted more snow off the table and sat on top with her boots resting on the snowy bench. She wrapped her wet hands around the warm cup, thawing their stiffness.

The ranger sat next to her. “I see you’re from New York,” he said, looking at the plates on her SUV.

“Yes.”

He sipped his coffee, waiting for her to say more. “Just passing through Ohio?”

“I am.”

They drank in silence for a minute.

He faced her. “I don’t mean to pry, but is everything okay? I never saw a woman stay here for four days in winter.” He added, “Alone, I mean.”

“You usually get groups of women in winter? They come here for a really entertaining ladies’ night?”

He smiled. “No.”

He seemed like a nice guy. She should go easy on him. Give him something to allay his fears.

“I didn’t mean to stay for four days. I came to Ohio to visit two family graves. After the first one . . . I guess I needed some downtime. Before I go to the next.”

Next was her mother, a few towns over.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She nodded and huddled over her coffee.

“It’s interesting you camp instead of stay in hotels when you’re doing that.”

He probably thought it odd that a person would stay there when they had enough money to own a fancy new SUV and nice tent. Ellis had purchased her camping equipment with gifts of money from her grandfather throughout college. She had some quality gear she’d gotten on sale. She wondered if the ranger would have offered coffee if she had a crap tent and beater car.

“I don’t like hotels,” she said. “I prefer the woods.”

“I guess I can see that. But be careful. Sometimes we get some odd ones in campgrounds.”

“There are odd ones everywhere.”

“I know. But here you’re completely alone.”

She’d heard these warnings since she started camping alone during her college years. Her first roommate fretted and lectured every time Ellis disappeared from the dormitory for the weekend. But Ellis had to get outside and away from people sometimes. She’d needed that since the Wild Wood. During the years she lived with her grandfather, she’d gone to a nearby park to get her green fix.

She slid off the table and handed the empty cup to the ranger.

He smiled at her. “You look more awake now.”

“I am. It was good coffee.”

“I grind the beans fresh every morning.” He held out his gloved hand. “I’m Keith Gephardt.”

She shook his hand and said, “Nice to meet you,” but didn’t give her name.

He got the message. “I’d better get going.”

He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and took out a card. “Here’s my cell number,” he said. “Maybe if you need to talk after that second grave.”

She tried to think what to say. It had been a long time since a man had given her his number. And she didn’t know what it meant in such strange circumstances. Was he offering her his number as a park authority who was worried about her or as a man who wanted to have a drink with her?

She felt like she’d been looking into his eyes for too long. Not because his brown irises were beautifully colored or anything like that, but because they had to be the warmest eyes she’d ever seen.

She looked away and took the card.

“You stay safe now.” He walked away.

“I will,” she said to his back.

He waved before getting in the truck.

As the ranger’s truck rumbled out of the campground, Ellis entered the tent and cleaned up with cloths, soap, and water she’d stored in jugs. She detangled her hair as best she could. Since she’d been with Jonah, she’d worn her hair short the way he liked it. Now she was growing it. She hadn’t cut it since early in her pregnancy, and it was already down to her shoulders. But it was thick and wavy, would be too difficult to care for while camping. She should cut it off.

No. She wanted to keep growing it. She didn’t want to see the woman who’d been deceived by Jonah every time she looked in the mirror.

She went outside to the spigot and washed it. The temperature was in the thirties, and her head felt like a block of ice beneath the frigid water. But the shock of it was oddly satisfying. Strengthening.

She was ready to go home.





8


Ellis had last seen Forest View Trailer Park the day she scattered her mother’s ashes in the river behind the trailer. Sam had stood watching, silent as always, his rigid expression betraying nothing of how he felt about his daughter’s death. Afterward, they got in his truck, packed with Ellis’s few belongings, and left for Youngstown.

The end of her drive was the same route the school bus had taken. She knew it well, but a lot had changed. A new gas station. A strip mall where a woodlot had been. Her favorite ice-cream shop had become a nail salon.