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shook my feet, squeezed the bottom of my jeans and tried to get the circulation going. It was damn cold.

      “So what’s up? You’re bleeding like a stuck pig.” He threw me a small towel.

      “I feel like one.” I held the towel to my cheek. “Where’s your lady friend?”

      “Huh?” He stared back at me with confusion.

      “You were just on this beach, weren’t you?” I asked, with growing doubt.

      “Me? What’re you talking about?”

      Either he was a good actor, or I really had made a mistake. His grey eyes looked back at me with their usual open honesty. I looked under the stern bench by his feet and saw no red tackle box. I checked the rest of the boat. It wasn’t here.

      “Where’s your tackle box?”

      “At the Fishing Camp. What’s that got to do with this?”

      So I told him about finding the boat on the north end of the island, following the trail to the beach and discovering the footprints. When I reached the part about the tree, the flash of yellow and the guy, he swerved the boat back towards the beach.

      “What’re you doing? My canoe’s the other way.”

      “I want to find out what happened.”

      “Stop! At this point, I don’t care. I’m freezing. Just drop me off at my canoe, so I can go home.” I rubbed the backs of my legs, which felt like they’d been squeezed through a wringer washer, and wiggled my numb toes.

      “If someone did push that tree over, now’s the time to catch him,” Eric persisted.

      My teeth were chattering so much I could barely get out the words. “I doubt he’d stick around. But if you’re so keen, you can probably catch him when he returns to the boat on the other side of the island. It’s probably his.”

      With a look of grudging consent, Eric turned his boat in the direction of my canoe. He took off his heavy lumberjack shirt and threw it to me. “This’ll warm you up.”

      Thankful, I burrowed into Eric’s warm shirt. It smelt good, of balsam and male sweat.

      “Why would someone want to kill me? All I was doing was exploring,” I asked.

      “Are you sure the tree wasn’t toppled by a strong gust of wind?”

      “It was pushed. I know what I saw. Besides, it’s in the lee of the island.”

      “Could’ve been an accident?”

      “If so, why run away?”

      “I doubt he wanted to kill you. Probably just wanted to scare you away?”

      “By skewering me with a tree? Hardly. Besides, why would he want to scare me? I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

      “Could be someone from CanacGold guarding the claim?”

      “All he had to do was tell me to get off the island.”

      “Gold can do funny things to people,” he replied.

      The boat’s motor sputtered and died. Eric fiddled with some buttons, banged the casing a few times and got it going again.

      “Yup, can make a man crazy,” he continued in a thoughtful tone. “Sure can.”

      I hesitated, wondering if he was talking about himself. As much as I hated to admit it, this mine might do the reserve some good. “Are you sure you don’t have anything to do with this mine?” I asked.

      His gaze turned to anger. “Believe me, Meg, last thing in the world I want to see is a mine on this lake. If I catch the guy, will you believe me?”

      “Of course, I will. Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

      “Meg, stop it. It’s okay. You’re shaken up.”

      He was right. My nerves were still jumping. The sooner I got home, the better.

      I didn’t know what to think. I was fairly confident the yellow came from an article of clothing. But if it were a simple case of trespassing, why wouldn’t he have warned me to get off the island when I’d first encountered him on the trail? Instead, he’d remained hidden and followed me to the beach. Still, if protecting the gold discovery was his main motivation, then perhaps he had wanted to conceal his presence. Unless, of course, I got too close to the claim, then he would want to discourage me. Perhaps as Eric said, the tree was simply a warning for me to stay away.

      I watched the shoreline fly by while I tried to settle my nerves.

      “Who do you think might have left those footprints on the beach?” I asked.

      “Probably a pair of love-sick teenagers.” Eric’s hidden dimples suddenly erupted on either side of his face.

      “Sure it wasn’t you?”

      Eric’s eyes twinkled. He was just pulling my chain.

      “By the way, Eric, thanks. I’m very lucky you happened by when you did.”

      “I was checking the shoreline for claim markers to see if this gold discovery was legit.”

      “And?”

      “I saw a couple of stakes at the south end, but nothing to indicate where the find is located. I want to check inland next. I’ve an idea where it could be.”

      I raised my eyebrows in question.

      “Come with me, and you’ll find out.”

      “Not now, Eric. I want to get out of these wet clothes.” My teeth were chattering, my body shaking. “Aren’t you worried about running into the CanacGold men?”

      “It’s a big island,” he replied.

      We were almost at the beach. I could see the vivid green hull of my canoe. But that was the only unnatural blip on the beach. The aluminum boat was gone.

      Surprised that my attacker had reached it so quickly, I scanned the lake. He couldn’t have travelled far, for it would have taken him almost as long to hike from the other end of the island as it did for us to come around by boat. But the lake was empty, except for a fishing boat trawling past Three Deer Point, a half mile away. A little too far and too innocent to be the guy in yellow.

      As if reading my own thoughts, Eric said, “I’ll check at the Fishing Camp when I get back.”

      Eric didn’t want me paddling across the lake in the condition I was in. I didn’t want to either, so he tied my canoe to the stern of his boat. On the way to Three Deer Point, we decided to return to Whispers Island next day to continue the search for the gold discovery. He promised to bring some of his men in case we ran into trouble.

      Once at my place, he hauled my canoe onto the dock. As he climbed back into his boat, Eric chuckled and said, “So you thought I was with a woman, eh?”

      I ignored him and sloshed up the stairs. Behind me, his laugh rose above the putt-putt of his engine.

      EIGHT

      The first thing I did when I got inside was light a fire in the living-room fireplace, a massive floor-to-ceiling stone structure. Then I removed my sopping shoes, jeans, socks and the rest of my clothes, fixed the cut on my face and took a hot shower. By the time I’d towelled myself dry and put on a thick terrycloth bathrobe, I’d stopped shivering, but my nerves were still ragged. I sat down in my favourite wing chair next to the stone hearth and tried to blot out the image of the hurtling tree. I still couldn’t believe I’d actually escaped with only a few scratches. Sergei nestled against my legs. I gave him a reassuring pat and felt a bit safer.

      Flames were licking the top of the stone firebox. Within seconds, my toes tingled with warmth. It spread upwards through my body until my face glowed. I felt almost human. I finally started to relax. On tomorrow’s

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