Page 105 of Axe Backwards
With a sigh, he pulled me into a hug. “This day,” he said into my hair. “I’m struggling with it.”
I hugged him back, silently praising myself for having the courage to ask.
“Today is the one-year anniversary. Of the fire.”
I pulled back and examined his face. His cheeks were hollow and his skin was pale. He was completely wiped out. He hadn’t divulged many details about Tess’s parents’ deaths, but I knew they were related to a big wildfire Noah had fought.
“I’m so sorry.” I put my head on his chest, hoping to imbue some of my strength. “What can I do?”
“I need to get out of my head for a while.”
Pulling back, I patted his chest. I knew exactly what he needed. “I’ve got an idea.”
“We’re almost there,”I said as I led the way to one of my favorite places. The trail headed past the lake and up toward Baxter State Park. About two miles in, there was a turnoff where the Millinocket River cut through the woods. Over time, the river had carved out a wide bank, leaving a pretty clearing dotted with giant rocks. I’d come here many times to watch the water flow and think. It was a great spot for a picnic.
When I came upon the small path off the trail, I signaled for him to follow. He was carrying Tess, who was in her hiking backpack with her floppy sun hat on, happily grabbing leaves off trees and throwing them in Noah’s face. It was hilarious.
We carefully climbed down the bank, using exposed roots for balance as we navigated through the trees and rocks, until we finally came to my secret patch of paradise. Big, smooth rocks that had once been cleaved off the mountains dotted the edge of the river.
Noah smiled as he approached. “Look at that view.”
I followed his line of sight and took a moment to admire the peaks in the distance. They looked majestic in the cloudless blue summer sky.
“We can hang here. I’ll spread the picnic blanket, and I brought a few toys for Tess.”
He nodded, hands on his hips, still cataloging the scenery. He’d regained some of his color, and a few miles of quiet hiking had helped him settle. But I could only imagine how crushing the guilt and grief must be for him.
I had pulled out the picnic blanket when a strange moaning sound echoed around the clearing. I turned and scanned the riverbank, cupping a hand over my eyes to block out the sun.
A small brown animal was wedged between two rocks, and every time a burst of water washed over it, its head went under.
My heart plummeted. “Is that a baby moose?”
Knees wobbling, I followed Noah down to the riverbank. Sure enough, a moose calf was struggling in the water. The river wasn’t deep, and it did move quickly in some spots, but the calf looked like it might be stuck.
“Here. Take Tess.” Noah unbuckled his hiking backpack and slowly lowered it.
Tess fussed, confused, when he didn’t immediately take her out of it.
Speaking in a hushed voice, hoping I could keep her calm, I unlatched her and picked her up.
Noah rifled through the front compartment of the pack, tossing out water bottles, protein bars, and a first aid kit. Eventually, he found a thick knot of paracord, a ratchet, and a handful of carabiners.
He jogged to a large tree close to the riverbank and looped the thin rope around it. He locked it into place with the rachet, then looped the other end around his waist.
“Noah, you can’t go in there. It’s not safe.”
He shook his head. “I’m trained in swift water rescue, and this water barely qualifies as swift. I’m not going to let it die.”
The moose was maybe thirty feet from the riverbank, but the slippery rocks and current were dangerous. Yes, he was qualified. Yes, he was trained. But that didn’t make me any less scared.
But then I looked at that poor animal, watched how hard it struggled to keep its head above the water, and I got it. Noah couldn’t leave the creature there to suffer. At his core, he was a fixer, a helper.
“What can I do?”
“Hold Tess. Keep her away from the water. Climb up on the bank. This thing may kick or freak out when I pull it to shore.”
With a nod, I held Tess closer and scurried up toward the trees.
