Grace had lived with what had happened to her on that farm for decades now. He’d lived with it for a couple of hours. The best thing he could do was give it time. Without even knowing it, he’d let down a friend, for she’d been that and more to him. He hadn’t known she needed help, hadn’t been alert enough to catch the signals, and that was going to take some time to grieve and accept. He wasn’t going to let her down again if he could possibly help it.
He understood the sad eyes now, but he wasn’t going to let her sorrow push him away. She was too important to him to let that darkness stain what he remembered of her. But for the time being he’d have to deal with staying quiet, calm, matter-of-fact, the friend she needed.
He collected his dogs at the house, drove the short distance to the campground, glad Grace was nearby rather than in town. Word would get out eventually that she was back, and he’d do what he could to downplay it as anything more than a short return to visit Carin.
Grace must have seen his truck coming. When he pulled in, she was waiting for him with cooler in hand. He pulled in a deep breath and disciplined his expression. He could do this. He would do this.
He smiled as he stepped from the truck. “You’re a timely one, Grace. I think that was true of you back in school too.”
She approached the truck. “Being late, unless someone is bleeding, is just plain rude.”
His smile faltered. Her uncle used to say that. Thankfully she didn’t see his reaction as she climbed in on the passenger side. Okay, not so controlled as I thought. He’d do well to avoid anything that brought up memories of the past. “You may remember my dogs’ father. These two boys are Duke and Slim.”
They both were looking at her through the back window. She laughed and greeted them by name. “They’re wonderful.”
“They travel everywhere together, always curious about what the other has found to do. They love a belly rub, and they’ll lick you to death if you let them.”
Josh settled on the driver’s side after finding a place for the cooler. “I’m going to take a few minutes to go hook up a small camper I take out to the field. It’s parked at the other end of the campground. If the dogs need a break, or a rain shower comes in, I’ve got shelter at hand.” And it removes the need to have to go into that farmhouse.
As they drove up to the camper, Grace asked, “Anything I can do to help?”
“After I get the truck lined up, you can take the driver’s seat, tap the brake, test the turn signals so I can check them once I’ve got everything hitched together.”
“I can do that.”
He expertly backed in. They both stepped out, and he turned the crank to lift the wheel and settle the camper onto the truck’s hitch.
“You must camp a lot,” she observed.
“I live on the lake, make my living from it, so I try to camp around it when I’ve got a few free days. Makes me better appreciate the experience tourists come here to find.” He flashed her a quick grin. “It helps that the bugs don’t bother me.”
“You’re lucky. They love me.”
“Which reminds me. Sunscreen and bug spray are in the backpack behind the seat. You’ll want to make use of both.” He connected the wire plug from the truck to the camper. “Okay, let’s check the lights and we’ll be ready to go.”
“That easy?”
He nodded and walked to the back. “I’m a man who keeps things simple,” he called as she settled behind the wheel. “I park it with everything locked down, all set to go out again.”
The lights worked fine. Josh tossed aside the wood blocks he used to anchor the wheels, took the driver’s seat again, and eased the camper out. “We’re good to go, Grace. Find us a radio station you like, then tell me something fun you did in Chicago last year. I’m guessing there isn’t much grass and trees for camping up there.”
“Nope, all this green is wonderful.” She reached to the radio.
He’d be asking a lot of questions about Chicago during the hours they walked. Besides it being a safe topic, he wanted to find out about the life she’d carved out for herself there. He needed to understand who Grace was today, and he figured they had a hundred hours or better of conversation ahead of them. He’d start with an easy topic, see what pieces he could discover to fill in a new picture of her.
Josh let his dogs roam the farmhouse yard, stretch their legs after the ride in the truck, get settled into the general scents of the place before he called them over. “Grace, you’ll want to watch for uneven ground-moles have been at work out here,” he told her, feeling the surface soft under his boots.
“I will.” She had on decent tennis shoes, jeans, and she’d worn layers with the jacket so she could adjust to the day’s temperatures. He’d find her a pair of boots for tomorrow to better protect against the harsh terrain.
She’d requested something of him, and finding the location of her parents’ remains would most likely involve spotting land that had settled around the graves, rather than the dogs picking up the scent. But he didn’t bother explaining that to her. He’d had enough experience to know what to look for.
“How will you know if they locate something?” Grace asked.
He knelt and whistled. “They will lie down,” he told her as he lavished affection on the dogs, “or if the ground is too uneven, sit down. They’ll put their paws and nose where the scent is strongest. They can mostly tell whether it’s animal remains to be ignored, but when it gets to a certain age, it’s just remains to them. If I don’t set a dozen red flags in the next three hours, I’ll be surprised.” She looked startled at the number, but nodded.
“The dogs and I work with basic voice commands, unique to each dog. They search best as a team, crossing back and forth over a section of land, working scents together.”
Josh gave the dogs the forward-search command, and they turned from playful Labradors to focused trackers, tails wagging, eager to please, on-task animals. They trotted out ahead, noses down. He’d take them from here to the clothesline post in the first pass. “See how the dogs are moving? That’s work mode. See the difference in their attention?”
“It’s noticeable,” she said, shaking her head in wonder.
“The key thing is to stay behind them, downwind if possible, and not distract them.” He soon whistled to terminate the current search pattern, and the dogs came loping back. He dug out treats, lavished praise on the two again. He let them go exploring on their own for a while. “When they’re roaming in search mode, I’m going to be directing them a bit with my voice, watching the ground ahead of them. My job is to keep the dogs out of trouble and on task. I sure don’t want to run them into a nest of skunks if I can avoid it.”
Grace made a face, then smiled.
“I need you to be the record keeper while I direct the dogs. The GPS reader tells you where you’re standing.” He turned the small piece of equipment on, called up a reading. Numbers lit the screen in soft blue. “The topology maps”-he handed her one-“are indexed on the sides by the last two digits of these readings.” He traced the coordinates on the map to where they crossed and pointed to the spot. “See? We’re standing right here.”
She nodded, looking at the map she was holding.
“What I’d like you to do is mark an X when we start a search pattern, then approximately every football field in length, do another GPS reading and put a line on the map. Do that until I call ‘Search string ended,’ and then you mark an X where we stop. We won’t walk straight lines-it’s more the contours you’re tracking. When we’re back tomorrow, that map will be my starting plan. I won’t repeat ground we’ve already covered, or I’ll intentionally crisscross the ground from another direction. Any questions?”