in fierce bursts, backlit by strobes of lightning. The intermittent flash made her think of the ball lightning she’d seen earlier, an occurrence Caleb had been reluctant to acknowledge. Yet another oddity from a man who excelled at them.
Yawning, she glanced at her watch. It was after one in the morning and the events of the night had finally caught up with her. She switched off the light and opened the drapes, inviting the frenzied dance of the storm indoors. She shimmied from her jeans and top and crawled into bed, the cotton sheets blessedly cool against her bare skin. Moments later, as she was drifting toward sleep, a rattling crack of thunder drew her upright.
Outside, lightning transformed the night into surreal-whitened day, silhouetting the bulk of a large animal against the window. Arianna recoiled from the touch of its eyes, yellow in the flash-fire burst of the storm. The image lasted only a pulse-beat before it was swallowed by darkness.
She shoved from the bed, hastily pulling on her blouse to cover herself, and threw open the window. The night had bled into a cauldron of shadow and patchy fog, making it impossible to see more than a few feet. The air was redolent with wet grass and worm-rich soil, an odor that made her think of swollen riverbeds and bogs. Rain pelted her face and left her shivering in her skimpy bra and panties. The animal–if animal it had been–had been swallowed by the storm.
She closed the window, careful to secure the lock.
It’s not safe tonight, Caleb had said.
She shook away a chill, convinced she’d been dreaming. The animal must have been a figment of her sleep-hazed mind. The events of the night, Caleb’s mysterious warning, and the legends surrounding Weathering Rock had taken a toll of her nerves.
Yet as she crawled into bed, she couldn’t help thinking the animal had looked very much like a wolf.
Chapter 3
The next morning she woke to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and bacon, an aroma she remembered fondly from childhood. Saturday mornings her mother had always made a sit-down breakfast for the entire family–crisp bacon, eggs, butter-slathered toast and heaping platters of home fries. She and her older sister Daphne were generally the first at the table, making sure they sat closest to the window where the sun cascaded through, warm and golden.
When was the last time she’d eaten more than a bowl of cereal or a cup of yogurt for breakfast? Running late for work, she was more likely to grab a granola bar as she dashed out the door, behind because she’d hit the snooze button on her alarm one too many times.
It felt good to stretch and lie in bed, lazily appreciating her surroundings. Judging by the oblong splash of sunlight on the floor, the fog had faded with the dawn. She’d slept soundly, surprising given the strange animal she thought she’d seen.
A steepled wall clock to the right of the door told her it was after nine AM, later than she was used to sleeping on a Saturday. She thrust the blankets aside, crawled from bed, dressed and tided the room. Once she’d freshened up, she followed the smell of coffee and bacon to the kitchen. Unlike the parlor, it had been updated to reflect contemporary styling with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops, but an aura of old-fashioned charm remained in wide-plank floorboards and oversized moldings. Beneath a bay window, a round walnut table was already set with glasses and plates.
“Good morning,” Wyn called from the stove. “I hope you’re hungry. I made enough for three.”
Arianna flushed, uncomfortable with such easy attention from a virtual stranger. “That’s kind of you, but–”
“But what?” He tossed a glance over his shoulder as he worked at scrambling a griddle of eggs. “Caleb should be down soon. I know he’ll want to thank you again and say good-bye. I’ll change your tire after breakfast.”
Caleb.
She wouldn’t mind another moment or two in the company of that particular man. She’d already stayed the night. What was breakfast in comparison?
“Okay.” She slid her purse onto the counter. “What can I do to help?”
“Uh…how about filling the glasses with orange juice? Maybe round up some butter for the table.”
“I can handle that.” She started for the refrigerator, growing more comfortable with a routine she remembered from childhood.
“Help yourself to coffee. Caleb drinks it strong, so I water mine down. Sugar helps.” Wyn cracked a grin. “Lots of it.”
“You make the coffee to suit Caleb?”
Wyn shrugged. He looked better rested this morning, his clothing neat and tidy, wavy dark hair combed into place. “It’s easier to water mine down.” He popped the door on the microwave to check the bacon. “I have a feeling he’s going to need it this morning.”
“How was he last night?” Arianna focused on Wyn as she carried the orange juice to the table and started to pour.
“Fine, just dazed from the spill. He was having one of his episodes.”
Arianna wanted to inquire further, but wasn’t sure how to go about it without appearing nosy. As trim and healthy as Caleb looked, she couldn’t imagine him incapacitated by headaches.
“He seemed confused, talking about someone named Meade.”
Wyn turned his back, but not before she’d caught his scowl. “That was nothing.” Taking the bacon from the microwave, he layered it on a platter and changed the subject. “What do you do in Sagehill, Arianna?”
“Ari’s fine.” Finished with the juice, she returned it to the refrigerator. “I teach at the local middle school. Seventh grade history.”
“So you get that nice long summer vacation everyone envies?”
She nodded. Monday was the beginning of her yearly summer break. School had finished two days before, but there’d been administrative work to clean up, yesterday marking the official end of her school year.
“I still have a few commitments during the summer,” she explained. “Day activities and field trips for kids in summer classes. I have one lined up the end of the month for Gettysburg.” Locating the coffee mugs on the counter, she helped herself to a cup, adding water at the sink and a few spoonfuls of sugar as Wyn suggested.
“Gettysburg, huh?” He returned to the stove, where he confiscated the pan of scrambled eggs, adding them to the platter with the bacon. “As a history teacher, you probably know a lot about the Civil War.”
“Living in Sagehill makes it almost mandatory, considering the town was a thoroughfare for the southern army when it came into Pennsylvania.”
“Yeah.” Frowning, Wyn slid the platter onto the table. “I wish Caleb would get down here.”
“Soon enough, Winston?” Caleb walked into the kitchen as if on cue.
Arianna couldn’t help stealing an appreciative glance. She had no intention of becoming infatuated with someone she’d only met, but something about Caleb DeCardian sent her pulse racing every time she glanced in his direction. Dressed in black jeans and a white cotton shirt, the sleeves cuffed on his forearms, Caleb looked casual and relaxed. The lines of pain around
