Rocky Mountain Lawman. Rachel Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ drifted into sleep with visions of Sky dancing around the edges of his thoughts. Simple thoughts, for the most part, because his life was largely a simple one, mostly untethered and unconfined except for the dictate to protect this forest and all its inhabitants.

      The next thing he knew, his eyes were popping open to a flaming sunrise sky. Yawning, he sat up and debated whether to try to start another fire and make some coffee. He liked starting his days with coffee, but he’d pretty well put paid to that by dousing his fire pit last night. It was still wet, and an unusual dew clung to everything.

      Rising, he made his way to a nearby stream, washing up with special soap that wouldn’t pollute the water, then donned a fresh shirt and underwear. While he didn’t exactly look perfectly creased, that was to be expected when he didn’t touch base overnight. Good enough for what he had to do, anyway.

      He saddled Dusty, fed him a handful of oats and promised him better grazing in just a little while. He kept his promise as soon as he reached the spot where Sky had been painting. While Dusty ate his fill of the tenderest shoots of green, he surveyed the valley and across it, Buddy’s place.

      It sure was a long distance, he thought again. So what the devil had bothered Buddy?

      Pulling out his binoculars, he scanned the area around Buddy’s place. Even with their aid, he couldn’t see a whole lot of detail at this distance, certainly nothing to ring alarm bells.

      So what had bugged Buddy? That telephoto lens and the resolution it could probably provide? If so, Buddy was up to no good. And how had Buddy become aware of it anyway? Just seeing someone return to the same hilltop a few days running shouldn’t have been enough to bother him, not at this distance.

      Smothering another yawn, he capped the binoculars, let them dangle from the strap around his neck and urged Dusty toward the trail he knew was in those woods. Maybe Buddy would be neighborly enough to offer coffee. Somehow he doubted it.

      Before long, he sighted a few hoofprints that told him someone had ridden up this path recently. Probably Buddy yesterday. At least he was keeping his ATVs to his own property. They’d had a discussion about that just the year before last. ATVs did a lot of damage to the ecosystem, and weren’t allowed in this forest except in a few places. One or two ATVs wouldn’t have been a problem. The problems began when you got a lot of people with them, which seemed to happen nearly everywhere they were allowed.

      By the time Craig reached the valley, the sun had fully risen over the eastern foothills and had begun reflecting off the top of the mountains ahead of him. He’d approached Buddy’s place from this direction any number of times, and figured by now they saw him coming.

      When he reached the creek that tumbled through the valley, though, he frowned. As far as he knew, they’d had a normal snowpack this past winter despite its being warmer, so why the hell did the water seem slower and not as deep as it had only a few weeks ago? He’d have to check that out. If a beaver dam or a deadfall cut the water to the valley by too much, a lot of life would suffer.

      Given the warmer winter, they were apt to lose a whole lot of moose and elk to ticks as it was. They didn’t need to be going thirsty on top of it.

      Dusty picked his way carefully among the wet rocks, reaching the other side without having even wetted his knees. Not good.

      Craig could feel that he was being watched. The certainty settled over him but it wasn’t a comfortable feeling. In the past he knew his approach had been watched, but it hadn’t made him uncomfortable. For some reason this time it did, and his guard went up although he kept his posture relaxed.

      Something sure as hell was going on. The question was what. His instincts insisted on kicking into high gear.

      Keeping his pace slow and lazy, he began to wind his way up the narrow track that led to Buddy’s place from the valley. The man had a wider road that connected to a county road, but it was out of the way for right now, and not the way he wanted to approach. He wanted this to appear like just another of his friendly visits, visits he made in a neighborly fashion a handful of times every summer.

      But as Dusty climbed steadily, he felt as if he were approaching an armed enemy encampment. He told himself not to let his imagination run wild because Buddy had said something a little off the wall just yesterday. But the feeling wouldn’t leave him alone. It was such an unusual notion that half of him resisted, sure he must be losing touch with reality. The other half, however, couldn’t let go of it.

      Yet nothing seemed to have changed. Not one thing that he could see. The atmosphere had changed somehow, markedly. How was that possible?

      At last he reached the first signs posting Buddy’s property. There was no gate to bar the way, although rusty barbed wire stretched away in each direction. He passed the signs by only a few feet, though, and waited. He knew Buddy would show up shortly. He always did, and Craig treated those no-trespassing signs with respect.

      Up the hill in front of him, he could make out signs of Buddy’s house, a log cabin, really, and the outbuildings, mostly hidden by trees. He stiffened ever so slightly, though, when he glimpsed what appeared to be a new cabin under construction. Buddy didn’t have that large a family.

      Changes. They might signal something, might explain Buddy’s sudden increase in paranoia. He wondered if he could find out what was going on.

      Soon he heard the roar of Buddy’s ATV coming down the winding path. When it rounded the last corner he saw his first cause for worry: Buddy wasn’t alone. A stranger rode behind him, a camouflaged stranger carrying a rifle. God, what was Buddy into now?

      Buddy pulled to a stop and turned off his engine. “Craig,” he said with a nod.

      “Buddy.” Craig looked pointedly at the guy behind him. “You need someone to ride shotgun now?”

      “Just my friend, Cap. I’m allowed to have friends, right?”

      “Never said otherwise. You’ve just never greeted me with a rifle before.”

      “Been having a problem with trespassers. Seeing a gun makes them pay attention to the signs.”

      “Guess it would.” Nor was there a damn thing illegal about it. “Nice to meet you, Cap. Craig Stone, Forest Service.”

      Cap gave the shortest of nods. Craig intuitively disliked the man. Something about his eyes, hard eyes. If he learned nothing else, Craig was learning that Buddy was changing something.

      “You here for a reason?” Buddy asked.

      “Actually, yes. You know the public has a right on public lands, Buddy. You can keep people off your property, but not out of the public forest. So if that painter lady wants to come back today, or tomorrow, or any time, she’s allowed to be up on that hill without you bothering her.”

      “She was taking pictures of my place.”

      So there it was. Craig paused a thoughtful second. “I asked her what she took pictures of. She’s trying to capture the light for painting later because it changes so fast. She hardly even knew you were here until you bothered her. So tell me, Buddy, there’s nothing about your place that you’d have to worry about being photographed from damn near a mile away. Is there?”

      “Of course not!”

      Cap seemed to second Buddy by spitting tobacco on the ground.

СКАЧАТЬ