Currant Creek Valley - By RaeAnne Thayne Page 0,59
I can. People are counting on me to be awesome tomorrow.”
Leo tried to nudge open the door she had left ajar. She closed it firmly with a laugh. “Hold on. Give me a second. It’s not going to help my stress level if you take off without me tonight, trust me on that.”
She quickly grabbed a warm jacket out of the closet and her flashlight, as well as the can of bear spray she had taken to carrying since a few black bears had been seen recently on trails around town.
A few moments later, she hooked the leash on Leo and the two of them walked toward the bridge that would take her over Currant Creek to the trail that ran on the opposite side from the houses.
The night was beautiful, warmer than usual for May. If the weather held, the Brazen outdoor seating that had just arrived would be the perfect place to spend a pleasant May evening, especially with that lovely view down Main Street. She did have kerosene warmers ready but she would really prefer not to use them if she didn’t have to.
As they made their way up the trail accompanied by the burbling creek, just a silver ribbon in the moonlight, the tension in her shoulders began to ease, along with the steady throb of a headache.
Leo loved the excursion, sniffing at every rock and clump of growth.
No other creatures disturbed their walk except an owl hooting in the trees, and some kind of water inhabitant—a muskrat or beaver, maybe?—that splashed upstream.
They didn’t go far, only about a mile to the fence that marked the edge of the Forest Service land. Sometimes a walk amid the steady mountain beauty that surrounded her soothed her even more than yoga. By the time she turned around and headed back toward her house, her muscles were loose and relaxed.
She was so relaxed, she wasn’t paying much attention to her surroundings. If she had been, she might have noticed she wasn’t the only one awake in her neighborhood.
“You’re out late.”
The low words came completely out of nowhere and she shrieked and jumped about a half foot in the air.
What was the point in having a big dog if he didn’t warn her of that kind of stuff? She jerked her head around in the direction of the voice and saw a dark shape on Sam’s front porch.
“Not cool! You scared the life out of me!”
He gave a rueful-sounding laugh. “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot you couldn’t see me up here in the dark.”
The smart thing would be to just say good-night and keep on walking but she couldn’t seem to make herself do that. She was only being neighborly, she told herself. It seemed rude to just walk on by and she certainly couldn’t stand out here on the sidewalk and yell back and forth with him, not at this late hour. She would wake up Mr. Phillips, especially, on Sam’s other side, who liked to sleep with his bedroom window cracked even in the coldest weather.
She moved up his walk, assuring herself she would only stay a moment.
“Leo has been cooped up all day,” she explained. “We both needed to stretch our legs a little before bed.”
“Next time, grab me. I’ll go with you.”
As if she would have found that at all restful. “I was fine.”
“Maybe so, but it’s pretty foolish to go walking by yourself after dark. Anything could have happened to you. One slip and you could have fallen into the creek. And who knows what scary wild animals might be lurking out there?”
She was more concerned about the scary male lurking right here. “I was fine,” she repeated. “I had Leo with me and I’m sure he could be pretty fierce if the need arose. Besides that, I always carry bear spray.”
“Which wouldn’t have been particularly useful if you had fallen into the creek, unless a bear fell in at the same time.”
Okay, there was some truth to that, but she refused to live her life in fear. About exploring the Currant Creek backcountry, anyway.
“Nothing happened. Here I am, safe and sound.”
She always felt very protected in the mountains around Hope’s Crossing, though she knew that feeling was likely illusory. A woman on her own could never be completely complacent of her safety. Her brother could probably tell her stories that would raise the hair on the back of her neck.
“That’s good. But seriously, call me next time. Or at least send me a text