Disclaimer and Author Notes: I don’t own the characters or the premise. They belong to DPB, etc.
Feedback of any sort is always welcome at dcamp@wheelerlegal.com
The countryside of Eastern Pennsylvania, sometime in January . . .
Harm’s SUV was finding purchase difficult on the seldom-used and ill-maintained dirt road. The unseasonably warm weather,
which was about to become a thing of the past according to the weather reports, had brought the frost out of the ground
early, leaving the road surface covered in a deep layer of mud. So far, Mac had bitten her tongue (once literally) and
held back the scathing comments she’d been wanting to hurl at him for the last twenty-three minutes.
It was twenty-three minutes ago that she’d become convinced Harm had no idea where in hell they were. Besides in hell,
of course. That much was obvious. They had seen no houses for a long while, no people since they’d left the shop owner
some time ago after buying supplies, and, aside from the utility poles and wires lining one side of the road, no signs
of civilization.
What she would have said, if she hadn’t been biting her tongue, went something like this:
"I cannot believe I haven’t learned my lesson! ‘Come with me, Mac’," she mimicked in her mind. "‘We’ll get away for the
weekend for a little R & R. It’ll be great - no shop talk, no Admiral, no demands.’ And instead of rest and relaxation,
here we are in the middle of nowhere! He’s lost, but he won’t admit it! We have no map and no directions! Who the hell
planned this mission anyway?! No one, apparently," she answered herself. "And to top things off, those clouds are looking
more ominous by the moment. But Mr. Meteorologist here, who knows more than the local weatherman and that Weather Channel
guy put together, says, ‘Don’t worry. It’s just another blizzard scare that won’t amount to three inches’. And I fell
for it! What am I doing out here, anyway? Why did he ask me to come? And why did I agree?" Exasperated, she exhaled
forcefully and slumped against the door.
Harm looked at her from the corner of his eye without turning his head. He knew she was fuming, and he also knew that a
monumental effort it was taking for her to remain silent. He intended to do nothing to provoke her any further.
Harm sighed inwardly. This weekend was not starting out very well. He’d invited Mac to go away with him for reasons
which he had kept to himself. He had some vague plan about using this weekend to re-establish his relationship with Mac
and hopefully re-define it as well. She had suggested that they talk "whenever it happened", and he was tired of waiting.
The boundaries of their current relationship were unclear to him, but the way things were now was unacceptable in the
long term. Maybe they could use this time to get closer. At least that was his plan, a vision which included romantic
talks in front of a fireplace and hikes in the pristine wilderness. A friend of a friend owned a cabin in the wilds of
Pennsylvania, and Harm had jumped at the chance to use it.
Before any of his plan could be set in motion, however, they’d have to find the place. Now where was that road?
Harm’s thoughts were interrupted by the sudden jerking to the right of the steering wheel. Before he could stop it, his
SUV had left the road and come to a jarring stop.
After he recovered from the shock, Harm asked, "You okay?"
Not trusting herself to speak without ripping his head off at the same time, Mac favored him with a look that could’ve
melted steel.
Harm opened the door and jumped down into the squishy mud. He walked around the back of the SUV and surveyed the
situation. Both right wheels were mired more than half deep in the partially-frozen mud. It appeared as though the
shoulder of the road had simply disappeared under the weight of the vehicle. This did not look good.
He heard Mac open her door, and before he could call out, "Don’t!", she’d pushed the door open. Her anger-fueled momentum
and the uneven way the vehicle was sitting combined to propel her out of the seat much more quickly than she’d expected.
She stumbled and attempted to regain her balance, but the thick mud clung to her boots and prevented her from picking up
her feet. She pitched forward into the icy mud, almost, but not quite, catching herself.
Harm stood with his mouth hanging open, not daring to speak or move for seconds. Finally, he took three steps closer to
her. "Mac?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you all right?"
Mac got to her hands and knees in the mud, spluttering in an attempt to get the mud out of her mouth. She rolled over
and sat in the mud and looked up at Harm in disbelief.
Though he knew it was absolutely the wrong reaction, he couldn’t help it. Harm bit his lip to try and keep the laughter
at bay, but it was no use, and he finally threw his head back and laughed. She was covered in mud from the top of her
head to the bottom of her boots, and he was pretty sure he’d never seen a funnier sight. He turned his back to her in
the vain hope that if she couldn’t see his face, she wouldn’t know he was laughing. When he turned back to her, he was
relieved to see that she was laughing herself.
Mac’s first feeling upon hitting the cold mud was rage. As she lay there, however, the ridiculousness of the situation
hit her, and she saw herself through Harm’s eyes. She couldn’t contain her laughter when she thought about the
hopelessness of their situation. They were in the middle of only God knew where, their vehicle was apparently disabled,
she was covered in cold mud, and a major snow storm was going to hit them at any moment. If she didn’t laugh, she
probably would burst a vein.
Harm extended a hand to her to help her up. Luckily for him, he saw the mischievous glint in her eyes before she took
his hand. When she tried to pull him down beside her, he was ready for it and managed to pull her up without getting
dumped himself.
"So what now?" she asked, trying as best she could go wipe the mud from her face. All she really managed to do was
smear it.
"Now we walk," Harm said, surveying the gathering clouds above. "Or we stay here and use the vehicle for shelter."
Mac broke into another fit of uncontrollable giggles. "Wait," she said, holding up a hand. She took a deep breath.
"Okay. I’m done laughing my ass off now."
Harm looked at her backside. "You left some," he said admiringly.
She slapped him on the chest, leaving a slash of mud on his otherwise clean jacket.
"Hey!" he protested.
"So what do you think?" she asked, ignoring his feigned dismay. "Stay or go?"
"I think we walk," he said, looking up again. "There are power lines here. There’s got to be a house or cabin somewhere.
We know how far back it is." They’d come at least ten miles since leaving the store. "I say we take a chance and keep
going along this road. We’re bound to find something."
Mac scanned the sky. "Well, we’d better get going. It looks like the sky is about to open up."
After checking to confirm their suspicions that a cell phone wouldn’t work this far out, they packed what they could
carry into two backpacks and set off down the road. They had walked for seven minutes when Mac said, "Oh, Harm! Look
at the bunny!"
Harm looked in the direction she indicated and saw a white snowshoe hare bounding across the snow. They both stopped to
watch it.
Suddenly, a single shot rang out, and they both flinched involuntarily. When they looked up again, the hare lay
twitching in the snow, a growing crimson stain spoiling the virginal snow beneath it. Their attention was diverted by
the sound of feet swish-swishing on snowshoes toward the hare.
They watched as a small individual, bundled up against the cold and burdened by the weight of a large backpack, trudged
to the now dead animal and picked it up by a hind leg, spraying blood across the snow as the animal swung back and forth.
They both saw the shotgun nestled casually in the crook of the hunter’s arm, and without even realizing he was doing it,
Harm stepped between the gun-wielding stranger and Mac, his intent to protect her obvious.
Mac made a small noise of disgust at his presumptuous behavior and stepped up beside him. When the stranger reached them,
he removed his hat, revealing that "he" was actually a she, and a young she at that. Harm guessed her age at thirteen,
but Mac was a little closer with her estimate of fifteen.
"You lost?" the youngster asked.
"Yes," Mac said at the same time Harm said, "No."
The child smiled in amusement. "Whichever it is, it’s going to snow real soon." She looked up at the sky. "It’s going to
be a big one, too." She didn’t miss Mac’s angry "I told you so" glare at Harm, and that seemed to amuse her, too.
"Do you live around here?" Mac asked.
"Yes and no, ma’am," was the answer.
"Well, our vehicle is stuck back there," Mac said, indicating behind them with a wave. A brisk, freezing rain began to
fall now. Already wet, Mac shivered. "We could really use a place to weather this storm."
"We could always go back," Harm offered. This shotgun-toting teenage made him nervous.
"Harm, I’m cold and I’m wet," Mac pointed out. "I’d like to be warm and dry. Sooner as opposed to later."
"I’ll take care of you, Mac," Harm assured her.
"Yeah! You’ve done a great job so far!" Mac said sarcastically. She turned to her (hopefully) benefactress. "Have you
got room for us?"
"Ma’am, I . . ." she stopped, obviously hesitant.
"I’m sorry," Mac said. "We should have introduced ourselves. This is Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr, United States Navy, and
I’m Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, US Marines. We’re both stationed at the Judge Advocate General’s Office in
Falls Church, Virginia. And you are?" Mac asked.
"JD," the girl said briefly.
"Should we talk to your mom and dad?" Mac asked.
JD thought quickly. "No. That won’t be necessary," she said with more than a little resignation in her voice. "Of course
you can come with me." She couldn’t very well just leave them out here with a blizzard coming, could she? "It’s not much
further," she said with a sigh. "Come on." She put her hat firmly on her head, bent over to release her boots from the
snow shoes, and picked them up by the harnesses.
"Can I take something for you?" Mac asked.
"No, thanks," JD said. She tucked the shoes under her left arm, holding the rabbit in her left hand. The gun she held
in her right hand.
"Maybe I could take that gun for you," Harm suggested. He’d feel a lot better if he could get the weapon out of her
hands.
The hard look she gave Harm reminded him of a certain Marine he knew. "That’s kind of you," JD said, though her tone
indicated her realization that kindness was not his motivation. "I’ve got it." She began to walk in the direction
they’d been walking before she’d interrupted them.
Seventeen minutes later, with the rain just beginning to turn to snow, they were walking up the front steps of a small
log cabin. JD dropped her snow shoes and the rabbit on the porch and opened the front door.
Mac followed her in and looked approvingly around the cabin. It was small but comfortably furnished. The cabin consisted
of one main room with a fireplace, a small kitchen on one side, a table with four chairs, and some living room furniture.
Through one open door, she could see a bathroom. Another door stood closed.
JD set the gun on the table, then wriggled out of the backpack. From the thud it made when she dropped it on the table,
it was obvious that it was quite heavy. Mac marveled at this youngster, who couldn’t have been more than five foot two
and one ten soaking wet having carried that heavy weight on her back all those miles on snow shoes. She’d make any
boot camp drill instructor proud.
As Harm poked around and attempted to light a fire in the fireplace, Mac realized that something about this situation
was bothering her. She watched JD remove groceries from the back for a moment before she asked quietly, "Where are
your parents?"
JD looked at her briefly, but didn’t answer her question. She put milk and slightly-squished bread in the refrigerator,
then turned back to the pack.
"JD," Mac started, but was interrupted by a shiver.
"You’re cold," JD said quickly, glad for a change in the topic of conversation. "Do you have dry clothes?"
Mac nodded, but the look she gave JD told her they weren’t finished talking about this yet.
"Bathroom’s through there," JD said, pointing to the door. "Take a shower and put on some dry clothes. There’s plenty of
hot water."
Mac raised a finger at JD and seemed about to say something, then stopped. "All right. We can talk later."
Mac took her back pack into the bathroom and closed the door.
"So," Harm said. "Who lives here?"
JD returned to the groceries. "Seventeen spiders and a squirrel."
"You break in?" he asked conversationally. He’d noticed broken pane of glass in the front door which had been replaced
with cardboard. He sat back and admired the blazing fire he’d kindled.
JD glared at him for a moment, then returned to emptying her backpack.
"So what’s your story?" Harm continued. "You run away?"
JD threw her empty backpack into the corner. She picked the shotgun up and noticed with satisfaction that Harm
straightened in alarm. She broke the gun open and removed on unspent shell and put it in her pocket. She closed the
gun and returned it to its pegs on the wall. She then opened a drawer and removed a large hunting knife. She put her
coat on and crossed to the door. While she was doing all of this, she was actively ignoring Harm’s questions.
"Where are you going?" he asked her.
"I’ve got a rabbit to clean."
A short time later, Mac came out of the bathroom, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, toweling her wet hair. She looked
around. "Where’s JD?"
"Cleaning the rabbit. What do you suppose JD stands for? Juvenile delinquent?"
"Harm, don’t pass judgment on the kid. We have no idea why she’s here. She’s all alone, poor thing."
"Don’t waste your sympathy on her," Harm advised. "She probably ran away because her mother wouldn’t let her stay out
all night with some boy with a pierced nose!"
"You don’t know anything about her, and you’ve already made up your mind!"
They stopped talking when the door opened. Wind and snow blew in until JD closed the door. In her hands, she held a
skinned rabbit, the knife, and her snow shoes. "It’s really coming down out there," she noted, setting the snow shoes
by the door. "We’ve got an inch already."
"Gee. You mean the weatherman was right?!" Mac asked, eyeing Harm.
"Go figure," he muttered.
JD took her coat off and hung it by the door. She took the rabbit into the kitchen and began cutting it.
"That’s the little bunny?" Mac asked, fascinated.
"Uh huh. Ever had rabbit stew?" JD asked.
"Never," Mac said. "Anything I can do to help?"
"You can slice some carrots. They’re in the bottom drawer of the fridge."
Mac found the carrots and a paring knife. "That was a terrific shot, by the way."
"Thanks. I’ve been hunting since I was a kid," JD told her.
Mac smiled at her reference to being a kid. "This is a great place. I wouldn’t have expected an electric water heater
in a place like this. That shower sure felt great."
"What happened to you anyway?" JD asked as she retrieved a pan from the cabinet. "You looked like something out of
The Swamp Thing."
"I had a little disagreement with a mud puddle. After we got stuck." She smiled coyly at Harm.
"Sure. Blame this all on me," he said from across the room.
"Oh, I am," she assured him. "So tell me about yourself," Mac said as she poured the carrots into the pot with the
rabbit.
"We need a few potatoes," JD said, deliberately ignoring Mac.
"I am going to crack you," Mac promised with a smile.
JD at first eyed her suspiciously, then smiled in return.
Harm watched them from across the room. When he’d been left alone briefly, he’d searched quickly through the cabin,
looking for something to indicate who owned this place and also for shells for the shotgun, just in case. He’d found
neither. Something about this situation struck him as strange, other than the obvious unusualness of a teenager alone
in the middle of the wilderness. He intended not to let his guard down for a minute.
This weekend was certainly not going the way he’d planned, he mused. Once again, fate had intervened in his attempt to
explore with Mac the future of their relationship. First they gotten misdirected (not lost) and stuck, now they had to
put up with an annoying teenager with whom knew how many problems. He sighed. This could be a long weekend.
"This is terrific!" Mac said as she began her second bowl of rabbit stew. "I’ll never look at a rabbit the same again,
but this is really good."
"Thanks," JD said shyly. "It’s a recipe my . . . I learned a long time ago how to make it. The secret’s in the spices."
"Isn’t it great, Harm?" Mac asked, trying to draw him out. He’d been strangely quiet all afternoon.
"Mmm," he agreed half-heartedly. "Great." His serving hadn’t included any rabbit. If he’d been so inclined, he could
have admitted that the stew was, indeed, very good. He just wasn’t so inclined.
As the meal wore on, JD became quieter and more withdrawn. Mac noticed that the young girl’s hands were shaking so
badly that the stew hardly stayed on her spoon and that her eyes seemed glued to a spot in the living room. When Mac
nonchalantly looked in that direction, she spotted a guitar standing against the wall. She suddenly understood what
was happening, and she looked at Harm to see if he’d noticed. In his present mood, he wasn’t likely to notice anything
less subtle than a ton of bricks dropping through the ceiling. She stood up. "Harm and I will clean up."
JD started to protest, but Mac stopped her. "It’s the least we can do. I noticed a guitar. Do you play?"
JD looked at her with so much gratitude that she was nearly crying. "A little," she admitted.
"Why don’t you play something for us," Mac suggested.
Harm rolled his eyes. Great. Now he had to listen to the little twit strangle a guitar. And probably sing, too.
JD noticed Harm’s reaction, but she didn’t care. She needed this too badly. She pushed away from the table and walked
to the guitar. She picked it up and sat on the edge of the couch. "Do you know Carolyn Dawn Johnson?" she asked,
directing her question to Mac, though there wasn’t much danger of Harm answering her.
"No," Mac said as she cleared the table. "Should I?"
"She’s a new country artist," JD said, strumming the strings softly.
Oh, great! Harm thought. Country. This just keeps getting better and better.
"She’s really great," JD continued absently, her fingers dancing on the strings. "She writes her own stuff."
JD then proceeded to play every song on the artist’s debut album. It was immediately obvious to both Harm and Mac that
they were in the presence of a very great talent. Not only could JD play the guitar as well as any professional, she
could sing like an angel. When Mac finished her part of the cleaning up, she sat at the table and simply listened. JD
appeared to lose herself in the music and played without any awareness that she had an audience, and she did so without
the benefit of sheet music. She finished with a song called "Room with a View" which actually brought tears to Mac’s
eyes.
"My God!" Mac said, nearly breathless, when it became apparent that JD was finished. "That was wonderful!"
"Thanks," JD said, ducking her head shyly. She slipped the guitar strap over her head and stood up. "It’s getting late.
You’d probably like to get to bed. This couch opens up into a bed. You two can have that. I’ll be in the bedroom."
"We don’t . . ." Harm said at the same time Mac said, "We’re not . . ." They both stopped, embarrassed.
"I’m sorry," JD said, understanding immediately the source of their discomfort. "You bicker like married people. I
should know better than to assume. Commander, you take the bedroom. You and I can hot bunk out here, ma’am."
They both looked at her, surprised by her terminology. "Feel free to use the shower," JD continued. "You may as well
be comfortable. It’s going to snow for a while."
Dreading that prospect, Harm picked up his bag and went into the bedroom with a terse "good night".