LITMIR.BIZ

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glare.

      “I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought. I did just arrive. Some welcoming committee you are.”

      “Welcome isn’t the gesture I was going for. You guessed it, Dr. Phil.” Cole made another blow at something he couldn’t know about me.

      Had these people seriously researched me before I got here?

      “I have no plans of changing anything, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Maybe I could clear up this misunderstanding and stop this guy’s animosity before we got too far out. He was too unpredictable. I’d be safer with Dalton, the known womanizer.

      He rambled on. “…and if you don’t know a place, you shouldn’t go off trekking on your own. You never know what trouble you might run across.”

      “Well, thank you for the kind direction, sir. Though the advice is about ten minutes and probably twenty stitches too late. I’ll remember that next time I decide to roll down a hill accidentally.”

      He walked on, and from behind, his ears lifted a little. He’d smiled. The nerve.

      “Who has a ravine behind their house that they don’t warn people about, anyway?”

      “The fence? The gate? Didn’t those two big landmarks give you a clue? Come on or you’ll never make it back before dinner.” He waved me on in irritation.

      We were quiet for a ways, giving me a chance to simmer down. I remembered the pond. Where had I seen it?

      “The pond hasn’t always been a pond. It was cut off from Moonglow Lake. The lake is a reservoir for the northern streams and feeds the southern streams.” The velvety roughness of his voice made it almost impossible to be mad at him, if it weren’t for the inherent cocky undertones. “Mr. Rollins, the original owner of the property, filled in the stream and made it a pond. His daughters used to swim here. Now it’s only fit for turtles and a few fish.”

      “Hmm.” There was no need to ask how the lake got the name Moonglow. He’d probably return with a smart-aleck reply.

      “They named it Moonglow”—he flashed me an amused look—“because it seems to change color under the moon’s stages.”

      God purposely sent wind through the trees, lifting his soft brown hair to settle over his eyes, just to torture me. Every few seconds, he had to do this infuriatingly cute swipe of his hand to brush it away so he could see.

      “The main road used to go to the original owner’s daughter’s school. It was a long walk.” He stopped, his attention drawn to the forest beside us. The muscles in his back tensed. His hair stayed in his eyes. He turned and put his forefinger over his lips. Then he did the strangest thing. Cole lifted his chin, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He jerked his head toward me, his eyes wide. He mouthed, “Don’t move.”

      “Why? What in the world could you have sm—”

      He covered my mouth with his soiled hand.

      I jerked back and slapped his hand away.

      Okay, surely to goodness he didn’t think he could smell danger. He was probably gonna lick his finger, put it to the wind, and tell me a bear came through there three weeks ago, traveling south. I mean, really. Who did this guy think he was? MacGyver?

      “I said quiet,” he seethed.

      “I didn’t say anything.” I matched his tone.

      His glare pierced me. “There’s a—there’s something out there, and if you don’t want to be its next meal, you’ll shut that aggravating little mouth of yours.”

      I’d almost rather have my flesh ripped from my bones with me alive to witness it than to spend another second with the guy. What an ass.

      “It’s gone.” He nodded in the direction of the trail. “Come on.”

      “If you think I’m going any farther into these woods with you, you’re as crazy as you look.” I planted myself in the weeds, my arms stubbornly crossed.

      “It’s stay here and be eaten by the bear that came through here a few minutes ago, or follow me. My dear, I’m the least dangerous animal in these woods.”

      “Animal? Yeah, that’s about right.”

      He let out something that sounded like a growl again and disappeared into the thick overgrowth.

      Where’d he go?

      Something moved in the grass to the left of me, and then a stick broke behind me.

      “Could you wait up?” I hurried after the psycho. I tried to keep up but tripped and fell every few seconds as Cole professionally scaled the overgrowth. I panted and huffed, and he’d hardly lost his breath. He ducked when branches were too low, lunged to the left and right to dodge thickets of briars, and pulled me around rocks that rose out of nowhere.

      “Watch out or you’re going to end up cut all to pieces,” he said.

      “How do you know this place so well?”

      He paused. “I hunt here.”

      “You probably have Bambi’s head mounted on your fireplace just above the stuffed version of the Easter Bunny.” I finally had to stop.

      He looked up at the stars, shaking his head. “I never hunt for sport. I may be an ass, but on the flip side, I’m somewhat of an animal rights activist.”

      “How endearing,” I said. “A yard guy, who could be a lawyer but chooses to spend all his time in the woods. Sounds sane to me.”

      “So what’s your story?” He flashed a thousand watt smile he should have shown more often.

      “My story?” The forest birthed us onto a lane covered with trees.

      “Yeah, what’s your deal?”

      I swallowed. What was my deal? My life story was about as exciting as watching the life cycle of the fly on Animal Planet.

      “Twenty-two year old, psych major. Until I met you, I thought mentally troubled people would be less work to be around than my family.

      My mother was the only one with any sense. I didn’t know why she bothered. “They’re my blood, but if I had to actually live in the home with them daily, I’d be on the other side of the straight jacket myself. They’re the perfect example of why some mothers eat their young.”

      “Where are you from?” His voice was detached. From time to time, his eyes darted to the left.

      “Whispering Pines, North Carolina. It’s a lot like Mayberry. You don’t have to lock your doors, and everyone knows everyone. That can be a good thing or a bad thing. Rumors travel faster than my sister.”

      “So you do have a sister?”

      “What is this? Twenty questions?”

      “Just passing the time. It’s a long walk.”

      “I’m doing all the talking. What about you?” I tripped over a small branch.

      “What about me?”

      “Don’t you have family?”

      “I don’t talk about them.”

      “Figures.” I was just supposed spill all when the most I would probably get from him was his name? Why not talk his head off? My feet hurt, and it’d be a distraction. “I may as well be an only child as far as my other siblings are concerned. They drain Mama dry. I’m invisible unless someone needs clean socks and or a button sewn back on. Now that I have my own apartment near the college, a day doesn’t go by that my jobless brother, Tripp, doesn’t call me to ask me how to work the dryer, since Mama works all the time. And my sister, Arlene. She’s a whole ‘nother story.”

      Cole smirked. “Nice accent. Arrrlene.”

      “It’s

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