Read The Seeker A Novel (R. B. Chesterton) for Free Online Page A

decision to become a ranger. He was a conservationist before anyone even knew what the word meant.” Leather, probably his gun belt, creaked as he put his elbows on the table and leaned into the conversation. “He wrote about and demonstrated the importance of individuals in challenging the system. He understood the hardships and appeal of walking a different path.”
    He had me and I didn’t want to resist. “He was far ahead of his time. He was a visionary and a conflicted man.” I caught myself and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Oh, crack the door of my favorite topic and I’ll lambaste you with talk.”
    “A dissertation is too much hard work to write about a topic that fails to ignite your passion.”
    Finding someone to discuss my thesis topic was like stumbling on a hundred-dollar bill on the street. “What drew you to Thoreau, other than the obvious location, location, location?”
    He chuckled at my imitation of a realtor. “I greatly admire Thoreau’s independence. His willingness to live alone and deny himself the comforts of a relationship so that he could fully experience nature.”
    Perfect! This was exactly the rendering of Thoreau that had been taught in high schools and colleges for over a hundred years. “And what if he wasn’t alone?”
    A crease touched the place between his eyes. I liked the way his black brows winged up to a peak and then tapered. Expressive.
    “What do you mean he wasn’t alone? Folks accept that he visited with his family and his friends. But his journals—”
    “It’s just a question. What if he wasn’t alone? Would you discount his experiences if you found he’d had a companion at Walden? A girlfriend or something like that?”
    His finger absently traced the handle of his mug. “I’d have to think about that. It would make him a fraud, wouldn’t it? To pretend to be alone to experience the solitude and self-exploration? It’s like he’s selling one thing and living another.”
    “A fraud? That’s pretty judgmental.” His assessment made my gut clench. I didn’t want to discredit Thoreau or his work. Would that be the reaction to my revelation?
    “It would change everything.”
    I nodded agreement, but waited for him to continue.
    “Why would he lie about such a thing?” he asked.
    “Perhaps his family objected to the relationship. Or if he was living in sin, the weight of community disapproval would have far offset any value of his writing. Or maybe he was protecting his companion from public censure.”
    He sat up tall. “I don’t believe there was anyone at Walden but Thoreau. That kind of secret couldn’t have been kept for nearly two centuries.”
    “A conspiracy of silence.” Despite the anxiety that his words provoked, I grabbed a pen from my purse and wrote that down. It was the perfect title for my dissertation.
    “Do you have evidence that Thoreau had a companion?”
    Before I made any public confessions, I needed solid verification. I took a good long look at him. Aside from his obvious handsomeness, he had a sense of humor and a lively intellect. I didn’t want to answer his question, so I asked another. “If your love is literature, how did you become a ranger?”
    For the first time, he looked a bit uncomfortable. The skin around his eyes tautened, and he looked down. “It’s a long story.”
    “I’m a good listener.”
    “Another time. You’re the stranger in town. Let’s hear about you.”
    “Egghead doctoral student. Poor childhood, dysfunctional family, scholarships, and here I am.” The waitress brought my sticky bun and coffee and I inhaled the delicious aroma of roasted coffee and cinnamon.
    “Dig in.” His hand indicated my fattening treat. “Chief McKinney told me about your strange intruder. Mind if I ask a question or two?”
    “Intruder is an exaggeration.” I swallowed a bite of bun and licked my lips. “A child stood on the top step of my porch. There was no attempt to enter the cabin, so I don’t