The Replacement. Anne Duquette Marie

to snap the pop-cap up, and failed. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. “I wanna go home.” She began to cry in earnest, harsh sobs that made Naomi reach for the child, but Lindsey was there first.

      Lindsey tucked the little girl under her chin and kissed the top of her head. “Of course you’re going home! As soon as we can get you there.”

      Pam shivered. “Daddy said I couldn’t see Mommy again. I have to stay with him forever an’ ever.”

      “Well, he was wrong, wasn’t he? You’re right here with us, and we’ve already had the police tell your mother you’re safe.” Lindsey picked up her napkin and wiped the child’s cheeks and nose. “We’ll send you home as soon as possible. After you get better—and the weather does, too.”

      The child sniffled some more, and Lindsey wiped her face again and rocked her. After a few minutes, Pam settled down. Lindsey speared yet another peach and fed it to her. “Shall we put ketchup on the peaches?” she asked.

      Pam grimaced. “Not on mine.”

      “Come on, let’s try it,” Lindsey teased. “I will if you will.”

      Pam shook her head, then gasped as Lindsey dunked a peach slice into some ketchup and ate it. “Umm-umm! Tastes just like French fries!” Lindsey smacked her lips. “Your turn!”

      Pam wrinkled her nose. “Yuck!”

      “Fine. More for me. Forget the ketchup.” Lindsey moved Pam’s plate closer. “Let’s have a race and see who finishes first. On your mark, get set, go!”

      Five minutes later, all the peaches were gone, and a few minutes after that the eggs as well. Pam yawned, drank her milk, then yawned again.

      “Back to bed for you, young lady,” Naomi announced.

      Pam reluctantly allowed herself to be taken from Lindsey’s lap. She balked as Naomi began to lift her up. “I was gonna feed the dog!”

      “You can feed the dog in the bedroom,” Naomi said firmly. “I don’t want you getting chilled.”

      “Good idea,” Lindsey agreed. “You two can make friends with each other there.”

      Pam sighed with contentment as Naomi carried her away. Lindsey and Ginger followed, closing the door behind them.

      “IMPRESSIVE,” KEITH SAID, clearing the dishes as Eric studied the storm outside. “Our replacement always seems to know just the right thing to say or do. Seems to come naturally to her. I’m surprised you ever let her go.”

      Eric peered through the small window and pivoted back toward the table. “No one tells Lindsey how to do her job.”

      “I’m not talking about work. I’m talking about personally. Naomi’s dropped a few hints here and there about Lindsey.”

      “My personal life is none of your business.”

      “Look, Eric. We’ve got enough going on here without adding an ex’s angst to the list.”

      Eric restrained the sudden flash of anger coursing through him. “Don’t worry about it,” he said curtly.

      The men were silent for a moment, then Keith put down his pile of dirty dishes with a thump. “You might as well know I’ve applied for a transfer. Another winter alone with your…moods—and your sister’s—isn’t anything I’d care to repeat. If I have my way, I’ll be leaving when Lindsey does.”

      Before Eric could reply, the lights flickered, went out, then went on again, but dimly.

      “Hell, now what?” Keith said. “I’d better check the generator.”

      “I’ll go with you,” Eric said, the hair on the nape of his neck rising with a creepy premonition he’d learned never to ignore.

      “Pass.”

      “I said I’ll go with you,” Eric repeated. He reached for his ranger-issued rifle. “Naomi—Keith and I are going out to check on the generator!” he called out. “Be back in twenty minutes!”

      NAOMI LOOKED AT HER WATCH, then continued to bandage Pam’s feet. “My brother has a loud voice, doesn’t he?” she said, hoping Pam would open up with her as she had with Lindsey. Like Naomi, Lindsey sat on the bed. Ginger lay on the floor closest to the portion of bed where Pam sat, sniffing Pam’s damaged toes, then sniffing the air, then the child’s toes again. Next she shoved her golden head straight at Naomi’s chest.

      “Ginger, knock it off,” Naomi grumbled. “Lindsey, do something.”

      Lindsey grabbed Ginger’s collar and gently tugged, effectively distracting the dog.

      “My feet are ugly,” Pam moaned. “They’re all black.”

      “Just the toes,” Naomi explained. She’d finished bandaging the first foot and was beginning the other. “That black is where the cold damaged your capillaries, and the lifeless tissue is starting to slough off.”

      “Huh?” Pam pulled her bare foot away from Naomi and started to touch the damaged toes.

      Lindsey caught Pam’s hands and clapped them together in a patty-cake motion. “Don’t touch. The black is like a big scab. Don’t make it bleed.”

      “Oh. Okay.”

      “And Ginger, get your nose out of here. She wants to lick your feet,” Lindsey told her, “because that’s how animals help heal themselves, by licking their wounds. The increased circulation helps speed new skin growth.”

      Ginger shoved her nose underneath Naomi’s hands and sniffed at the bandaged foot. Then, before either woman could react, Ginger stood on her hind legs and shoved hard at Naomi’s chest again. Naomi overbalanced and slid off the edge of the mattress to bounce down on the floor rug with a thud.

      “Ouch!” Naomi cried, rubbing her behind. Pam giggled as the dog jumped off the bed to nuzzle Naomi’s chest.

      “This dog is always pestering me. Even Eva couldn’t stop her. For heaven’s sake, Lindsey, do something!”

      “CAN’T WE DO SOMETHING?” Eric asked. “We need this generator working!”

      “I told you, I’m trying.” Keith set down his wrench with a clatter and rubbed his hands together. “If there wasn’t a raging blizzard outside, I’d swear someone’s been messing around in here. The fuel pump’s barely processing, but it was fine yesterday.”

      Eric froze. “Wilson’s been here.”

      “You sure? The man couldn’t have hiked through a storm, waltzed in here, tampered with the generator and strolled back out again. Seems hard to believe.”

      Eric hurried to the outside of the door that protected the generator. Amidst howling wind and sharp, stinging snow, the faint impression of footsteps into and away from the shed were still visible. Inspecting the keyhole was an afterthought. The bright silver lines stood out starkly among the dull weathering of the surrounding iron plate. For once, Eric hated being right.

      “He picked the lock,” he told Keith a few minutes later. “The scratches are fresh.”

      “Could’ve been a bear. They don’t have a true hibernation. One could’ve left his den and tried here for food.” Keith picked up his wrench once more and went back to tinkering with the fuel pump.

      “Animals don’t leave human footprints. Where’s your repair bin with the spare parts?”

      “You don’t think…” Keith rushed over to the unlocked storage cubby and lifted the wooden lid. He swore viciously at the damage inside.

      “Bears don’t destroy so neatly.” Eric’s jaw tightened.

      “That son of a—”

      “So can you fix the generator or not?”