Morning Light (10 page)

“I'm sure,” she countered with unshakable conviction. “Is there a possibility that they'll hurt him?”

“I'm no expert on wolves, never having lived in an area where they're common. But if they're like most predators, they'll only attack a human if they're starving. It being early June, I think that's unlikely. There should be plenty of wild game in that area to keep their bellies full.”

Clint didn't often lie by omission or tell half-truths, but in this instance he felt justified. Until they found Trevor, there was nothing Loni could do to help the child. So why add to her worries? Besides, what he'd told her was essentially true: Most predators hesitated to attack adult humans. He'd simply failed to mention that Trevor, being a little guy, was an easier mark. If there were indeed wolves in the wilderness area, the boy's only hope might be Nana, the faithful Saint Bernard, who was probably large enough to make a wolf think twice before taking her on.

In the greenish glow of the dash lights, he saw Loni's body relax. Dressed in his sister Samantha's clothing, she at least
looked
ready for a trail ride. Snug Wrangler jeans showcased her hips and shapely thighs, an oversize fleece jacket enveloping her upper body. The John Deere baseball cap that Sam had lent her sat on the dash, as yet unused, but not for long. Come tomorrow the bill of the cap would come in handy for shading her eyes.

“I wish I could reach out and hug him,” she said softly. “No child should ever be alone like he is right now.”

“He has Nana,” Clint reminded her. “Judging by all you told me, that Saint Bernard will fight to the death to protect him.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I believe she will.”

“So stop worrying,” he advised. “Saint Bernards are huge dogs. Even if one or two wolves get in too close, they'll have a hell of a time taking her down.”

It was around midnight when they reached the south trailhead. While Clint unloaded the horses from the trailer, Loni decided to make herself useful by gathering firewood. After finding a flashlight in the truck, she set off into the nearby trees to collect fallen branches and sticks. The crook of her left arm was piled high with fuel when it suddenly dawned on her that she'd wandered farther from the truck than she intended.

Time to turn back. Picking her way with the flashlight, she retraced her steps. Only she walked and walked without reaching the clearing. Not good. Loni's pulse rate quickened.
I'm not lost
, she assured herself. She couldn't be. She'd gone only a little way. The truck was probably a few feet from her, and she simply couldn't see it.

“Hello?” she called. “Mr. Harrigan?”

No answer. Loni strained her ears, but all she heard was the night wind whispering in the trees.

“Hello?”

With a shaky sigh she shone the flashlight around, trying to spot something familiar.
Problem.
All the ponderosa pines and slick-leaf bushes looked alike. She couldn't be sure whether she'd come this way earlier or not.

Determined to stay calm, she decided the smart thing would be to walk in ever-larger circles until she stumbled upon the clearing. So off she went, making the first circle, the wood still clutched in one arm. Every few steps she hollered for Clint, hoping she'd hear him shout back.

It took Clint the better part of an hour to get the horses settled in for what remained of the night. He had to string a high line between two trees, no easy feat in the dark. Then he had to tie the horses off, spacing them far enough apart to prevent any kicking or entanglement in the lead ropes. Once he got them fed and double-checked all the ropes, he set himself to the task of building a fire pit and pitching the tent.

He was searching for the pack that held the tent when he suddenly noticed the silence. A prickle of alarm raised the hair on his arms.

“Ms. MacEwen?”

Thinking she might be in the truck, Clint opened the driver's door to check. The cab was empty. He closed the door and turned to gaze at the surrounding woodlands. Why hadn't he paid closer attention to what she was doing? He'd no sooner asked himself that question than the answer came to him: He was accustomed to trail riding with mostly experienced people, and it was never necessary to watch after them or keep tabs on their whereabouts.

“Ms. MacEwen?”

When she didn't answer Clint cursed under his breath.
No way. She wouldn't have wandered off.
The last time he'd seen her, she'd been zigzagging through the trees with a flashlight, collecting firewood.

Clint found another flashlight under the seat of his truck and set off in that direction. Some clairvoyant he had on his hands. If she was so damned perceptive, how in the hell could she possibly get turned around only a hundred yards from camp?

Relief eased some of the tension from his shoulders when he found her tracks. After following them for a while, he realized she was moving in widening circles, an excellent strategy if only she'd been moving closer to the clearing. Instead her tracks became ever more erratic, the circles becoming long ovals, figure eights, and then aimless meandering. She was clearly confused and had lost all sense of direction. Even worse, she was moving east, ever farther from the clearing.

A cougar screamed, its cry cutting eerily through the cold night air.
Shit, shit, shit.
His camp partner was out there somewhere, alone and unarmed. Clint stopped to check the magazine of his sidearm for cartridges, then, just to be on the safe side, injected one into the chamber. He didn't want Loni or himself to become an oversize feline's midnight snack.

“Loni!”

He kept shouting her name until he was almost hoarse, but he heard no answering call.

The flashlight batteries were going dead. Loni whacked the casing with the heel of her hand, hoping to brighten the fading beam. That didn't help.
Oh, God.
She was growing truly frightened now. She'd been walking for what seemed like forever, yelling Clint's name every few steps. There was no question about it: She was lost. And soon she would have no light.

She'd long since tossed away the wood she'd found. Now she truly understood how frightened Trevor must be. She could hear things in the woods around her, could feel eyes on her. Only wild animals, she assured herself. But what kind of animals? Deer were harmless enough, but what of coyotes, wolves, cougars, and bears?

Right then a piercing scream rent the night. It sounded close and startled Loni so badly that she almost wet her pants. Urgently hitting the flashlight again, she gulped down panic.
Stay calm; think.
Just because she'd never been in a wilderness area didn't mean she was a total idiot. She'd watched tons of survival movies. If two dogs and a spoiled cat could travel hundreds of miles to find their way home, she could surely make her way back to the clearing.

What she needed to do was get her bearings, only she hadn't taken any to start with.
Stupid, so stupid.
She'd been within sight of the clearing when she first started walking, and she honestly hadn't thought there was any risk of her getting turned around. Now the flashlight beam had grown so weak it barely illuminated the ground in front of her. She began tripping over branches and stumbling into holes. It was time to stop walking, she decided. The last thing she wanted was to fall and get hurt.

The feeble flashlight beam blinked out just then, plunging her into total blackness. Loni froze in her tracks, her eyes aching as she struggled to see. Overhead only slivers of faint moonlight shone through the thick canopy of trees. She remembered reading somewhere that when a person got lost in the woods, the smartest thing to do was stay in one place and wait to be found. She was a little late in deciding on that course of action, but better now than never.

Waving one hand in front of her and tapping the ground with her feet, she moved cautiously forward. When her palm finally met with rough bark, she turned her back to it and slid down the tree trunk to sit on the ground.
This is better.
She felt safer, anyway. She set the useless flashlight beside her, not wanting to lose it in case Mr. Harrigan had extra batteries.

Huddling there in the blackness, listening to the pines creak and groan in the wind, Loni thought once again of poor little Trevor. With the thought came the bright flash of light that always preceded one of her visions. The next instant, she felt cold rocks all around her. The dank, musty smell of damp earth and rotting pine needles filled her nostrils. Nana lay curled around Trevor, her huge, furry body insulating him from the cold.

Just as he had been earlier, Trevor was still in a small cave. Only where was it located? Loni listened for the river, but the only sounds she detected were the soft, rhythmic snores of the boy and dog, and the whishing of the pines swaying in the wind.

Finally the vision winked out, much as the flashlight had, and despite all her efforts Loni could see nothing more. Tears flooded her eyes because a helpless little boy was lost—and now so was she.

A branch snapped about twenty feet from her, the sound cracking in the darkness like a rifle shot. Loni almost parted company with her skin. She gulped and strained to hear. A bear, maybe? All she had to defend herself with was the flashlight. Why hadn't she thought to find a long stick?

“So there you are.”

“Mr. Harrigan?” She sprang to her feet and peered through the inkiness, trying to locate him in the shadows. “Thank God you found me. I've been scared half to death.”

She heard more twigs snapping. Then he suddenly emerged from the blackness, his pale blue shirt all she could make out at first. As he drew closer she was able to discern his outline, and then finally his face. His eyes glinted like flint striking steel.

“Did your flashlight go dead, too?” she asked.

“No.” His voice sounded strained. “I've been turning it on every few seconds to find your trail, then turning it off to save the batteries. What the
hell
were you thinking to wander off in the dark? And damn it, don't you know to stop the minute you realize you're lost? I've been tracking you for almost an hour. There are critters in these woods with
very
big teeth. Did you hear that cougar scream?”

“No…yes. I guess maybe so. I heard a scream, anyway.” She just hadn't known it was a large cat. “Is that how cougars sound?”

“It's how female cougars sound.”

Loni couldn't blame him for being angry. She'd given him a bad scare. She started to apologize, but he cut her off.

“That cat is close, and she probably has kittens to feed. Do you know that a cougar can leap from a crouch as far as thirty feet, hitting its prey with such force that the spine snaps? It's early June. Predators that survived the winter may be
very
hungry right now. One unarmed clairvoyant would make a tasty meal for that cat and her babies.”

Loni forgot all about offering him an apology. “I thought you said there was plenty of wild game for predators to feed on at this time of year.”

“Maybe there is; maybe there isn't. It all depends on how hard a winter it was.”

“How hard a winter was it? Didn't Oregon get a lot of snow this year?”

“These mountains always get a lot. You'll be seeing it tomorrow. This early in the year it hasn't all melted off.”

“So you lied to me.”

“I didn't lie.” He picked up her flashlight and tucked it under his belt. “I just didn't tell you the whole truth. You were upset about Trevor. I saw no point in worrying you even more by listing all the dangers he might encounter out here. For all I know, maybe there
is
plenty of game.”

“Where I come from, failing to divulge the whole truth is the same as lying, Mr. Harrigan.”

He gave her a hard look. “Call it however you see it, Ms. MacEwen. All I did was try to ease your mind.”

He set off without glancing back to make sure she was following.

“Wait!”
she cried. “I don't want to lose you.”

“Then pick up your pace. It's late, I'm tired, and it's a long way back to camp.”

Loni scrambled after him, but the darkness and the deadfall at her feet slowed her down, and soon she couldn't see him.

“Clint? Don't leave me. I can't find the way back by myself!”

He reappeared so suddenly that she gave a startled squeak. His breath wafted over her face, warm, steamy, and smelling of wintergreen. After seeing him dip snuff, she couldn't delude herself into thinking that he'd been sucking on breath mints.

“What seems to be the major malfunction here?” he asked.

“I can barely see my hand in front of my face. It's
dark
, in case you haven't noticed, and
you
have the flashlight.”

“It isn't
that
dark. Are you night-blind or something?”

“I guess maybe so. I can't see where I'm putting my feet.”