Guided Hearts by C. Ellen Culverwell

Author:C. Ellen Culverwell [Culverwell, C. Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Betrayal; Fantasy; Ghosts; Contemporary; Leukemia
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2022-11-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

David had a restless night. When it was barely light, he decided to burn off his frustration by running at Pioneer Cemetery. His was the only car parked near the road, which was common at that hour. He did not just jog; he ran like a madman, tiring himself out on the hilly driveways. As he headed up one of the hills, he thought something looked different, more spacious. When he got to the summit, he realized why; an enormous oak tree had fallen. He surmised it was likely the victim of the same storm which took the tree down at Laurel’s house. As he approached the tree, he saw the damage it had caused, and all the branches had been removed by the maintenance crew. Only the main trunk remained with someone sitting on it. It was the stranger who had helped him three years prior when he had his meltdown.

He walked up to her. “What a shame.”

She nodded in agreement. “I guess we all have to go sometime.” Then she added, “You’re awfully early. Usually, you are arriving just as I am leaving.”

He was out of breath from his run. “May I sit?”

“Oh certainly,” she replied patting the bark of the tree. “I was just waiting for my friend who walks with me. She is characteristically late.”

Looking around he asked, “Why did they leave the trunk here?”

“One of the groundskeepers said it was being milled. They thought they may be able to use the lumber for some local projects.”

“I like that idea. It makes sense.”

The woman offered him a direct look. “What demon is chasing you today?”

He was still feeling uneasy about his conversation with Laurel and wasn’t certain he wanted to explain. He answered her question with a question. “What makes you think one is?”

“Instinct and the sweat rolling down your face. I’ve never seen you run like that before. Either you’re in great physical shape or working out a problem.”

She spoke with the same kindness he remembered from before. He asked, “Am I that transparent?”

“Not really, I just recognize the signs. You aren’t the only person who comes here to work out their frustrations. Last week I saw a young woman riding her bicycle in much the same manner you were running. A short while later, a man drove in, found her, and they ended up in a touching embrace.”

He snorted a short laugh. “I’m not unique, then?”

“You’re just human.”

“I’ve never had the opportunity to thank you after you helped me. I needed to let it out.”

“It’s sometimes easier and safer to vent to a total stranger. I’m glad I was able to help, but something tells me you need to do the same thing again.”

“Do you mind?”

With a wave of her hand, she replied, “Have at it.”

He gave her the condensed version of Laurel’s past and their recent conversation. She listened intently. “It sounds like you’re painting her with your brush.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re getting at.”

“She’s been through a lot this past year, and she still needs to figure out some things.

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