"Amy?" she asked the emptiness. "Damn it. I told you I'd visit every day and tell you where it's safe to go," she exploded in exasperation.

She strode back out onto the porch and stood stock still, head tilted to the air. And waited. The only movement was the breeze, stirring long strands of her hair across her eyes. It didn't matter- she wasn't using them. They were closed.

"Damn her. Mulish, thick-skulled woman," she murmured to the trees. Then, whipping her head around to the right, she was off the porch in one loping stride and thundering down the trail that led to the Silverthread.

v Two easy fish later, one around three pounds and the other maybe a six pounder, and Amy tidied away her tackle. There was little point fishing on, for though there were plenty for the taking, the refrigerator at the cabin was small and couldn't really store much more than these two. She was due at Marie's for dinner that night.

Maybe she'd take the larger one as a present and cook the smaller one tomorrow. It would do her for a couple of meals. After cleaning out the fish she laid them on the bank by her backpack. With a sigh of satisfaction she stretched out the kinks in her shoulders. Her casting was still a little stiff and rusty. Not that it mattered. If she'd opened her pants pocket today the fish would have jumped right on in.

By midday it was warm enough for her to feel overheated in her long-sleeved fleece shirt. Glancing down at the pure water bubbling past her toes and then up at the sharp sunlight over the tree-lined lip of the valley, Amy made an impulsive decision. I'm going to have a * 43 *

quick dip. Partly because she was hot and the water sang seductively, partly as homage to the many times she had splashed about and swum in this river. As a kid she'd learned to swim downstream in the creek, with the overhanging rock and the old rope swing. Amy peeled off her clothes and dumped them on the riverbank with the rest of her belongings and in bra and panties stepped gingerly into the water.

"Oh, sweet mother of God," she squeaked. It was freezing!

With a deep breath she bobbed down to immerse herself up to the chin, one, two, three times.

All right, that's enough childhood nostalgia. I'm outta here.

Quickly she scampered back and rummaged through her bag for the towel she always carried. Too often she got soaked on field trips. A warm pair of socks was another mandatory item hidden away in a side pocket. Her little hip flask was yet another. Little luxuries like these could make even the foulest, wettest job almost bearable.

The sunshine on her pebbled skin was soothing, brushing away the chill. It was possibly one of the last fine days before the weather turned with a wintry vengeance. Amy took the towel over to the stepping-stones and spread it out on the big central rock and lay down to dry off in the sun's rays. She had been up and about very early and so far it had been a wonderful day, but now she felt tired. I suppose I'm still jet-lagged. Perhaps a little catnap is in order.

An afternoon snooze would be a lovely addition to her first full day here. And to top it all off she was having dinner at Marie's later, always a culinary delight. She settled down on her belly, resting her head on her arms, and with a happy smile let the bubbling water sing her a lullaby.

v Amy wasn't sure what woke her. She was surprised to be in such a deep sleep. Her eyes popped open and she felt chilled even though the sun still shone warmly. She lifted her head and scanned the tree line hugging the riverside. The birdsong had stopped, and an eerie quiet had descended. Was that what had awoken her? The unnatural silence?

* 44 *

Something drifted into her peripheral vision, dark velvet slinking through the shadows before being swallowed by the forest.

She squinted, trying to focus on its fluidity, a liquid whisper that melted from tree to tree. It was nothing more than a penumbra, as vague as a watermark on the surrounding gloom. No sooner had she caught it than it dissolved away into nothingness. She rose onto her knees to look harder but all was now uniform darkness.

Nevertheless, she was left with a strong residue of unease. It coated her tongue and cramped her stomach but she had no evidence for her physical discomfort. Tentative birdcalls began to fill the quiet. The ominous pause in nature seemed to flutter, then lurch hesitantly back into the everyday life of the forest.

Amy gave one last sweeping glance along the riverbank. It was then she noticed her fish. Her trout lay several feet away from where she'd left them. How long had she been asleep? She stood, as if that would give her a better perspective on events. Towel in hand, she padded across the stepping-stones to the bank. As she approached she noticed the rapidly drying paw prints circling the fish. They were massive, and clawed, and made every fine hair on her already goose-bumped flesh stand on end. She watched aghast as the prints slowly dissipated before her eyes with the heat of the sun. A rustle in the nearby undergrowth shook her out of her stupor and galvanized her into action. She dropped her towel and hurriedly grabbed at her clothes, deciding it was best to get dressed and go as quickly as possible.

"Been fishing?" Leone emerged from the tree line just several yards upstream from where Amy stood.

Startled, Amy spun around angrily. As if this wasn't creepy enough, now I've got a peeper ogling me from the woods.

"Do you mind?" she barked scrabbling to cover her semi-nudity with the towel.

Leone blinked and flushed hotly. She turned away to give Amy her privacy, but not before taking in the gentle sway of lace cupped breasts as Amy bent for the towel, or the russet curls nestling under a soft, rounded belly. The damp translucency of Amy's underwear hid little. Saliva flooded Leone's mouth and she swallowed hard. Her stomach tightened as a primal power shifted, bearing down heavily * 45 *

on her chest and belly. Her nostrils quivered lifting a succulent scent from the air. It felt so unnatural to turn away from this woman, but she wanted Amy to feel as comfortable as possible around her. It was important if Leone was to get anywhere near her.

"Okay, you can turn around now."

Leone did so, slowly. Amy was fully dressed, stuffing her towel back into her backpack and gathering her gear together. She seemed flustered and upset. She glanced up as Leone turned to her.

"Thank you." She gave curt approval of Leone's manners, and then nodded toward the fish. "Something's been at them."

"What do you mean? Has an animal been sniffing around your fish?" Leone stiffened, but her voice remained casual and light.

"I didn't see it. I was sleeping." Amy indicated the big river rock she had sunbathed on. "But whatever it was it had big feet."

"Like a duck?" Leone asked flippantly, masking her concern in banter.

"No! Not a duck...huge feet." Amy held her hands out about two foot apart in the proverbial bragging fisherman pose. Leone's eyebrows rose. "Come and see for yourself." Amy pointed to the dried out marks around her fish.

Leone approached and looked at the damp, rapidly drying smudges. They looked like nothing but told her everything.

"Oh my God. It's an Oregon Duck, all right. From the size of those splotches, it looks like the linebacker."

"You're such a smart-ass. They've all dried up, but I'm telling you they were big...with claws. Maybe bears?"

"Nah, they're all playing for Chicago."

"Again, you are so not funny. This is serious."

"Yes, it is. What are you doing out here anyway? I thought we'd agreed I'd drop by in the morning and tell you where the hunting was so you'd be safe from the ducks and the bears with the big feet."

"We did not agree on any such thing. I'm seeing Marie tonight and telling her to get you off my back. You're like a melanoma."

Amy scowled in discomfort. Leone knew catching Amy in her * 46 *

underwear had not been the best of moves. She needed to fix it somehow, and fast.

"Anyway, this area is safe." Amy continued to harangue her, and with great aplomb went on to list all the reasons she did not need Leone glued to her throughout the day. "It has never been hunted; it's for fishing only. It's near a quick trail home. Plus, it's one of the places I knew I'd find the first specimen on Marie's list."

"You started already?" Leone made sure she sounded impressed.

"Good for you." As she spoke she stooped to collect the fishing pole and tackle box. If she was helpful she reasoned she could walk back with Amy rather than leave her alone again. To make certain, she scooped up the fish, too, letting them dangle at her side from the joint line through their gills.

"Yes. Remember the devil's club up on the slope? The one Jori fell into when he was eight or nine? Well, it's still there, bristling away as evil as ever." Amy rambled on happily now that she was on a favorite topic. She grabbed at her backpack, her annoyance forgotten as she began to regale Leone with her news. "I got some great sketches. It looks so pretty in the fall, and it's no longer toxic this time of year either. I'm going to tell Marie where it is in case she wants to harvest it."

Leone listened happily to Amy's lilting voice as they strolled alongside each other. Before joining the riverbank trail she took a last narrowed eyed look at the woodland on the far side of the Silverthread. There was nothing she could pick up on.

"...and then I caught the other one nearly five minutes later.

I swear if the cabin had a freezer I could have filled it." Amy had moved on to her fishing stories. Leone smiled, sharing in the excitement of a good day's fishing.

* 47 *

* 48 *

chapteR Five.

And you're sure there are no bears or other man-eating monsters in the valley?" Amy's voice was filled with concern.

"If I told you there were huge, man-eating, really monstrous bears would you let me escort you everywhere?"

"No. I would just have to carry a gun and be worried and intimidated and my work would suffer and your deadline would go belly up."

"Okay. Definitely, no bears."

"Well, wolves, then? There are wolves all over the place."

"The wolves are too high up. And too shy to come this far down to the Silverthread. Nope, it was just a beaver or something sniffing around your fish. You probably scared him off before he could steal one." "Beaver?" Amy guffawed. Leone was being ridiculous. "No way would a beaver leave such big prints. I saw them, remember?

You aren't going to make me change my mind. I know what I saw.

It had to be at least as big as a bear."

"Well, all you have as evidence are some dried-out splashes and two unmolested trout. It's hard to believe Godzilla's on a rampage."

"Bite me, Garoul. Something with great big paws was on that riverbank poking at my fish."

"Look, let's be rational. A great big, ferocious animal would just take the fish and run. Right?"

* 49 *

"Yes, I suppose so." Amy frowned. "I have a feeling I'm about to be rationalized out of my 'big bad bear' theory."

"I think a heron or beaver or something like that came after your fish and you surprised it before it could drag these big beauties away." Leone held up the beauties in question. "It makes the most sense. Think about it."

"Pfft. Heron?" Amy snorted again. "Perhaps it was Big Bird?

If only there were some discarded yellow feathers to prove your theory...or I'd heard the alphabet song."

"Okay, you win. It's a big bad, killer bear and you need a bodyguard." Leone sneaked in her knockout blow.

"No. Maybe you're right. It was probably just a thieving beaver or some such." Amy hastily U-turned on prowling carnivores if it meant she was going to be railroaded into having an escort.

Leone smiled and let her. All she needed was a fix on Amy's whereabouts and she could easily keep a discreet eye on her. It was better than locking antlers with her every morning over where she could and could not go. It could all be done on the quiet and Amy would be none the wiser.

They continued to enjoy the walk back. The afternoon sun was fading away, and Amy felt cold as they moved into the shadowed side of the valley. Damp underwear didn't help her chill factor, either. She gave an involuntary shiver.

"You're cold. Could I make you a nice pot of tea when we get home? Maybe you could show me your field sketches?" Leone tried to wrangle an invite.

"I'm not cold." Amy remembered the drink they'd shared last night. She didn't want to encourage that sort of scenario again.

"It's just so I can get a feel for how your work will complement Marie's text." Leone shamelessly played her editor's card.

Amy hesitated. She loved talking about botanical illustration, and could yak about it for hours on end. So what if Leone wanted to be the one she spent time yakking to? Leone was her editor, after all. It was right that they should talk about these things.

"Well, okay, if it's to do with work. But no hugging," she warned.

* 50 *

Leone defended her good-night squeezing. "I was just saying good night."

"Keep your hands to yourself." Amy was adamant there would be no replay.

They turned the final bend and the cabin lay before them.

"Okay, no hugs," Leone said. "But can I see the sketches? I need an overview."

"Fine. Just let me change into something warm and dry first."

Together they mounted the steps to Connie's cabin.

"Better yet, go and grab a hot shower and I'll light a fire. You can bank it up to keep the cabin toasty while you're at Marie's for dinner. How does that sound?" Leone pushed her luck now that she was through the door.

Amy felt shivery every time she moved out of the direct sunlight. Now that she was indoors, a full chill settled on her bones.

A warm fire and hot cup of tea sounded really good.

"You've got a deal. It is cold in here."

v With hot water pouring down her body and all the chill and cramps of the afternoon washing away with the suds, Amy was glad her world was returning to normal after her earlier scare. As annoying as Leone's teasing could be, Amy was comforted by the plain common sense hidden in it. Amy didn't want hungry bears, or wolves, or even cougars, lurking nearby as she sunbathed, so part of her was more than willing to listen to Leone's more acceptable theories. The alternative was to admit she did need someone watching out for her as she worked. And that someone would doubtless be Leone. And that would never do.

v Leone quickly lit a small fire and put the kettle on the stove to boil. She hunted along the cluttered mantelpiece for Connie's battered old wooden box. Lifting the lid released a myriad of * 51 *

pungent aromas from the various incenses and essential oils stored in it. The rich mixture was overpowering but also curiously warm and welcoming. Leone found the small incense cone she was after, and placing it on the hearth, lit it. Thin strands of smoke curled into the air. Some escaped straight up the chimney; others wound their way through the cabin, draping it with a spicy tang.

The kettle bubbled and she moved back into the kitchen to prepare a pot of tea. She sorted through the various containers lined along a shelf and finally wandered over to the bathroom door.

"What flavor tea are you in the mood for? I got mint, chamomile, or maybe some ginger would warm you up?" she called through to Amy. "Yes, ginger sounds good. I'll only be a few more minutes."

Amy felt the stiffness melt out of her bones. Part of her muscular tension she put down to being damp and cold after her swim. The rest was due to her earlier fright. Imagined or not, she found the entire experience unsettling. Not so much the fishy footprints as the horrible feeling she'd had gazing into the eerily silent woods. She could have sworn a wave of utter malignancy had flooded from the forest, chilling her more than the cool afternoon air ever could.

Now, in the warmth and safety of her cabin, with Leone puttering about in the kitchen, she put all her strange sensations down to re-acclimatizing to the valley and its wildlife. She was being ridiculous. Nevertheless, she was glad of Leone's company.

Amy felt silly at being spooked at shadows, and it was good of Leone to hang around until she felt more settled. She knew there was more to this visit than Leone wanting to look at her sketches.

Leone had seen she'd been unnerved and wanted her artist rested and reassured. Amy appreciated the kindness.

The bathroom was fogged up and Amy opened a window to let a blast of fresh air into the tiny room. The wooden edge rasped and caught across the badly weathered windowsill. Amy frowned; the wood surround was gouged and splintered and almost jamming the window shut. Connie was usually on top of the constant maintenance a home like this demanded. She'd have to ask Marie which of the * 52 *

Garouls were responsible for doing odd jobs on the cabins and get them to come out. The window needed serviced badly.