A small voice taunted them in the distance. “Lynn and Eli sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
Eli turned to her, his voice rolling over the snowdrifts. “Do you even know what that spells, brain wave?”
“Uh . . . I think it spells that you’re in love.”
“Hmm . . .” Eli turned back to Lynn, his hands still on her face. “She might be onto something.”
Lucy popped up beside them. “Can I have hot chocolate?”
“Race ya!” Eli challenged Lucy and they started for the house at a dead run that turned into a rolling ball of clothing when Lucy took him out at the knees. Lynn followed more slowly, noting the muted edges of the drifts. The snow was melting, imperceptibly at first, but it was going. Soon the spring would bring warm temperatures, mud everywhere, and a high water mark in the pond due to runoff.
For the moment, life was good.
Though she knew spring was close, the nights were still long and Lynn’s dreams were not as pleasant as her days. Sleep came easily but didn’t last long. After one nightmare, Lynn woke with Mother on her mind. Lucy’s even breathing filled the room, and she envied the little girl her deep sleep and innocent dreams. She unwrapped her legs from the sheets, pulled her boots and coat on, and silently slipped up the basement stairs and out the back door.
There was no moon. The utter blackness of the outdoors descended upon her and swallowed all her thoughts, leaving her aware only of her surroundings and what could hide in it. She unshouldered her rifle and sat on the stone step, grateful for the familiar worries of something she could control. Lucy’s sleeping form, curled and content, slipped through her mind and she tightened her grip on the rifle, eyes roaming the black expanse of the night.
Her eyes drifted to the south from habit, where a pale glow made the tree line of Stebbs’ woods visible. “What the hell?” Lynn was so taken aback that she spoke aloud, her words trickling away into the night.
She thought for a second that she had worried away the entire night, but the sun wouldn’t be rising in the south, and the glow she saw there wasn’t the natural pink streaks of the morning. It was a sickly yellow, its pale aura reaching only past the stark black of Stebbs treetops, and shedding light no farther.
Lynn studied it with a grim face, her mouth tight. She clicked the rifle safety off, all traces of fatigue stolen from her in a breath. This light was unfamiliar and strange.
Which meant it was dangerous.
Stebbs appeared on the horizon a few days later, his limping trail snaking behind him. Lucy had learned quickly how to spot his track, the telltale drag of his injured foot left an easily distinguishable pattern in the snow. For weeks in the dead of winter, he had created crisscross paths in the snow, making a game for her to find the right one that ended with him, and a bear hug. She ran toward him the second she spotted him, abandoning Lynn to the task of scraping ice off the doorstep alone.
“Melt giving you much trouble?” Stebbs asked when he made it to the house, Lucy tucked safely in the crook of his arm.
“Not bad. I’m tired of the refreezing in the night, though. Lucy fell walking out the door this morning. I can’t have her breaking a leg.”
“No, ’cause then someone would have to carry her around everywhere they went,” Stebbs said to the little girl, who leaned her head against his shoulder and giggled. “What a chore.”
He sat her down and Lucy tugged on his hand. “Come inside and eat with us, and see what I made. Lynn’s teaching me to knit.”
“That a fact?”
“Trying,” Lynn said, swatting the little girl’s backside as she ran past her down the stairs. “This one’s got the patience of a gnat.”
“And Eli’s teaching me to play guitar,” Lucy added.
“Again, trying,” Lynn said to Stebbs, as she tossed wood onto the stove and opened a can of vegetables. Once they were settled and eating, Stebbs brought up his reason for visiting.
“There’s another pack of coyotes in the area.”
“I know,” Lynn said between bites. “We heard them last night.” The frantic yelping of the pack had brought Lucy into Lynn’s cot, her small body quivering in fear.
Lucy took a bite of her corn and looked from Stebbs to Lynn. “I thought you killed them all,” she said.
“Can’t get all of ’em, little one. You’d best play closer to the house for a while,” Stebbs said. Lucy made a face but Lynn knew she would listen. The wild dogs scared the little city girl in a way that other, less obvious dangers didn’t.
“The big one, you know . . .” Stebbs trailed off, watching to see if Lynn caught his meaning. “He’s still out there.”
“You see him?”
“No, but I’ve seen his track.”
Lynn didn’t want to speak about what had happened to Mother in front of Lucy. “Why don’t you run off and see if you can’t find that toad in the pantry?”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “You think he’s still there?”