who needed all the help they could get dealing with their scars, both visible and invisible.
She made it down the mountain without meeting a logging truck, and pulled into the ranger station. It was a nice-looking log cabin set just inside the entrance to the forest. Two stories high, it appeared big enough for a few rangers to live there for the summer.
Inside the lobby there were some comfortable rustic chairs, some rugs on the plank floor, carousels holding pamphlets and a long counter behind which the ranger on duty sat. A glass-fronted case displayed souvenirs but the only ones that caught Sky’s attention were the little stuffed Smokey the Bear dolls. Before she left, she’d send one to her niece who lived in Hawaii.
The ranger, a woman, rose from a desk and smiled. “I hear you had some trouble from Buddy today.”
“It wasn’t exactly trouble. He was just rude.” Sky felt a little embarrassed, wondering if she’d overreacted to the guy. He hadn’t actually threatened her, he’d just told her to get lost. Still, she thought there was something a bit menacing in the way he’d approached and yelled at her, making a wild accusation.
The tall, dark-haired woman’s name badge said she was Lucy Tattersall. “Well, Craig will get him to lay off. By the way, do you want Craig to show you some other places that might be good for your art?”
So Craig had apparently radioed the entire thing to Lucy. Now she did feel embarrassed. “He didn’t have to make a big deal about it,” she protested. “A guy was rude to me. Apparently he’s a little quirky. But I’m not running from that. I’ll paint in the same place tomorrow. In fact, I’ll paint there until I’ve gotten what I want from the location. It’s beautiful.”
Lucy’s dark eyes sparkled. “You go, lady.” But then the sparkle faded a bit. “Just be careful. Buddy’s never been a real cause for concern, but things can change, you know?”
“I’ll be fine. If he gives me any more trouble, I’ll report it.” She smiled at Lucy. “I guess I got my backbone up. Public land and I’m the public.”
“Exactly,” Lucy agreed. “Buddy has always had an aversion to trespassers, which I can understand. It’s his land, not forest land, and some of our hikers overlook that. But if you see him again and manage to get on his good side, maybe he’ll talk to you a bit. He’s got some interesting stories to tell. So same place tomorrow? Be sure to check in before you go.”
Sky walked out and climbed into her car with the definite sense that Lucy hadn’t told her everything. But why would she? Sky was a stranger and the rangers probably never gossiped, except possibly among themselves.
Glancing at her watch, she realized she had time to clean up before she met with a local veterans group. Somebody back in Tampa had apparently let the VA up here know she was going to be in the area, and the first day she was here she’d been approached to speak with the local support group about what she did as an art therapist.
At first she had been annoyed because she was supposed to be taking a break from all of that, but now she found herself looking forward to it. It would only be an hour or so, depending on how much they wanted to hear, and since she didn’t have any personal involvements here yet, it shouldn’t be too painful.
In fact, it might prove to be part of her healing.
Chapter 2
Craig camped under the stars that night, on a back slope so Buddy wouldn’t get the idea that he was observing him. He could have gone to one of the empty cabins scattered around the forest, provided for the needs of rangers and researchers alike, but when the weather favored it, he preferred to be outdoors.
Over a small fire, he made coffee and heated up some freeze-dried food. The forest sounds changed at night, and he loved the contrast. The wind kicked up a bit, rustling through nearby trees and carrying a wolf howl from a long way away.
The migration of a wolf pack down from Yellowstone still tickled him, although it was over two decades now, and it did create some trouble with surrounding ranchers. The Thunder Mountain pack, however, stayed small, and if it had split, the new pack had evidently migrated elsewhere. So eight wolves prowled this forest, on average, and right now they had some pups they were taking care of.
Moose, elk, bear and pronghorns all thrived here, and were doing better since the wolves’ arrival. Forage had increased for all of them, and even the birds had multiplied since they got to pick over wolf leavings. By and large, this had become a healthy, thriving forest despite past scars left by men’s gold mining and lumbering, and occasional holdovers like Buddy Jackson.
Which brought him back to Skylar Jamison and Buddy’s strange reaction to her. The camera, he had already decided, had to be at the root of Buddy’s concern. But why would Buddy be bothered if someone took a few photos? Why would he use the word spy? In short, why was Buddy acting like a man with something to hide?
How had he even known Sky was there and taking photos? Was he watching the area through some kind of telescope himself?
None of this made Craig feel particularly easy. Buddy had always been the independent and slightly quirky kind of cuss you’d expect to want to live in the middle of nowhere with his family. No problem there. Some folks were just built that way. But clearly something had changed since last summer, and it was something he needed to look into.
Spying? The word rang serious alarm bells.
Well, he’d do what he could to deal with that in the morning. Meantime he could indulge in more pleasant thoughts, like that cute little artist.
All right, she wasn’t little. She was a bit taller than average, and she moved and walked with the ease of someone whose body was in tip-top shape. From what little he could see of her under that baggy, ugly sweater and paint-stained jeans, she seemed to have a nice figure. But her face, even smeared with a daub or two of oil paint, had been winning. Blue eyes, curly brown hair escaping from a ponytail, a face that immediately made him think of a Madonna. Which was something he didn’t often think about.
Apart from everything that had been going on, he’d sensed an aura of sorrow around her. A feeling that life hadn’t been treating her well recently. Not that he should care. He would do his bit by keeping Buddy out of her hair and in a few days she’d be gone. The way everyone else left.
Lucy had chided him once. “You really need to marry a forester.”
“Are you offering?”
That had sent her off into gales of laughter, the more so because Lucy didn’t run to men.
The thing was, though, Craig didn’t feel lonely. At least not often. Overall he was pretty content with the way things were. He’d long ago figured out the average woman needed far more year-round attention than he could provide, but he loved his life and wasn’t about to give it up. The thought of a picket fence made him shudder. So he settled for a few good friends and the companionship of the wilderness. He didn’t have a whole lot to complain about either.
The night didn’t promise to grow too cold, so he doused the fire with his leftover coffee and climbed into his sleeping bag, pillowing his head on his saddle. Nearby his mount, Dusty, stirred occasionally in the horse version of sleep.
He stared up at the infinite stars and thought of all the people before him who had lived just such a life, from shepherds to cowboys to hunters, and knew he was in good company. It was a great
