to live in the middle of nowhere with his family. No problem there. Some folks were just built that way. But clearly something had changed since last summer, and it was something he needed to look into.
Spying? The word rang serious alarm bells.
Well, he’d do what he could to deal with that in the morning. Meantime he could indulge in more pleasant thoughts, like that cute little artist.
All right, she wasn’t little. She was a bit taller than average, and she moved and walked with the ease of someone whose body was in tip-top shape. From what little he could see of her under that baggy, ugly sweater and paint-stained jeans, she seemed to have a nice figure. But her face, even smeared with a daub or two of oil paint, had been winning. Blue eyes, curly brown hair escaping from a ponytail, a face that immediately made him think of a Madonna. Which was something he didn’t often think about.
Apart from everything that had been going on, he’d sensed an aura of sorrow around her. A feeling that life hadn’t been treating her well recently. Not that he should care. He would do his bit by keeping Buddy out of her hair and in a few days she’d be gone. The way everyone else left.
Lucy had chided him once. “You really need to marry a forester.”
“Are you offering?”
That had sent her off into gales of laughter, the more so because Lucy didn’t run to men.
The thing was, though, Craig didn’t feel lonely. At least not often. Overall he was pretty content with the way things were. He’d long ago figured out the average woman needed far more year-round attention than he could provide, but he loved his life and wasn’t about to give it up. The thought of a picket fence made him shudder. So he settled for a few good friends and the companionship of the wilderness. He didn’t have a whole lot to complain about either.
The night didn’t promise to grow too cold, so he doused the fire with his leftover coffee and climbed into his sleeping bag, pillowing his head on his saddle. Nearby his mount, Dusty, stirred occasionally in the horse version of sleep.
He stared up at the infinite stars and thought of all the people before him who had lived just such a life, from shepherds to cowboys to hunters, and knew he was in good company. It was a great life, and yes, it was missing a thing or two, but they didn’t fit. Que será, and all that.
He 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