The Secret of Cry-baby Hollow
       By Cara Swann
 [© 2000 by Cara Swann; all rights reserved]
+++++++++++++++++++++

Synopsis: Recently wounded while on duty as a city police
officer, a young woman retreats to an isolated Blue Ridge
mountain cabin to recover. Soon she meets a county sheriff's
deputy, and together they begin to discover there's something
all too real and sinister behind a local superstitious folk
legend. 50,000 words/300 pages [Mystery/Romance]

Reader Response to: authoress1@juno.com
+++++++++++++++++++++

CHAPTER ONE

As Miranda Stewart pushed open the door of Martin's
Market, she realized her worst fears as an officer of the law:
a young boy had a gun aimed point-blank at the store owner,
William Martin, who was ashen and shaking.

Just moments before she had watched her partner, Officer
Leroy Handley, park their patrol car at Martin's Market on
the corner of Crescent Street in Albertville, North Carolina.
This was routine patrol, nothing out of the ordinary; the street
was empty, no traffic, she'd noted.

Near eight o'clock now, Mandy had noted with satisfaction
that the troublesome gang from a nearby government housing
project was not out on this rainy September night.

"Be back shortly," Mandy had said, noticing his wife's
impending delivery of their baby still preoccupying Leroy.

Mandy had gotten out, instinctively touched her holstered
Glock .45 automatic, and strode to the building. For the
umpteenth time she had wished they could convince the elderly
owner, William Martin, to remove ads papered over the glass;
it was a visual disadvantage, completely blocking a view of the
interior.

She'd seen her five-foot, four-inch reflection approaching in
the windows -- a uniformed policewoman, short, bouncy
chestnut hair beneath the navy-blue cap.

And now, Mandy stood stock-still, appraising the dangerous
situation. 

The boy pivoted at the sound of a bell above the door, and
shouted, "Get in quick!" his gun alternating threateningly
between Mandy and William.

Mandy's hand fell away from her gun, and she controlled her
voice, saying calmly, "Jackie Rider."

"Uh..." the boy flinched, disconcerted at seeing a familiar face.

"Jackie, for goodness sakes, this is no way to solve your
problems." Mandy had known Jackie and his family for the
three years she'd been patrolling the government projects; he
was a young boy, only seventeen now, and obviously pushed to
the limits by his sister's recent illness.

"Officer Stewart," William blurted out, "I've been trying to
tell him that too!"

Jackie gripped the .22 caliber handgun tighter, pointing it at
William. "You...uh, you just hand over that cash!"

Mandy knew Jackie was bluffing; he was just a scared kid. She
soothed, "Now, now Jackie...please, let's talk this over."

"No!" The boy leaned closer to the counter, and yelled, "Give
me the money!"

William shakily began emptying the cash drawer, his fear-
stricken eyes glancing nervously at Jackie, then pleadingly at
Mandy.

"Jackie look, we can talk about this, there are programs to
help your family," Mandy ventured softly.

"No! No more welfare! We're already getting government help,
and it's awful. My mom and sisters are ashamed, and I got to
help them!" He tried to look tough, twisting his mouth into a
snarl.

A dozen thoughts about training briefly flickered into
Mandy's mind; nothing applied to this except patience and
calm. The boy was young, scared, inexperienced -- but he did
have a gun. She was careful not to budge an inch, lest her
movement provoke an impulsive, reckless act from him. "Jackie,
your mother wouldn't want you to do this."

"How do you know? What do you know about being poor?
Living in those projects, no dad around to help out!" He
flushed, and the freckles stood out on his boyish face.

William put the cash on the counter, and Jackie eased over,
picking it up but never taking the gun off them, his eyes wary.

Mandy was grateful Jackie wasn't like some of the kids -- at
least he didn't use drugs. She continued her simple tactic,
"Jackie, if you just leave that money here, we can talk and
work out a solution."

He seemed to hesitate, as though her words had at last made
him aware of the crime he was committing.

Mandy seized the moment. "Your mother and sisters need you
here; they wouldn't want to see you in jail."

Suddenly Jackie's eyes watered; he gruffly tried to hide his
tears, but said weakly, "Uh...if I leave the money I won't go to
jail?"

Sensing her advantage, Mandy gently cajoled, "Let's just talk
about your situation, get your some help."

The boy allowed the gun to waver downward, and continued to
look at Mandy. "Are you sure you can help me?"

She now took a tentative step away from the door, still more
than ten feet from him. "Of course I am," she said
reassuringly.

There was a shuffling sound; Mandy saw William grab for his
gun underneath the counter. The movement startled Jackie, and
as he inadvertently swiveled toward William, the gun fired.

Mandy felt a piercing burn in her right side just at the instant
her partner burst in shouting, "Drop it Jackie!"

Falling, Mandy found herself unable to grasp the nearby
shelves. With a thud, she hit the floor.

She saw Jackie drop the money, his body paralyzed by shock.
White-faced, he stammered in a disbelieving voice, "I...I didn't
mean...to shoot..." as Leroy took the gun out of his limp hand.

*  *  *  *

In the hospital emergency room, being prepped for surgery,
Mandy was lucid but lethargic from sedatives.

Leroy was repeating again, "I'm so sorry Mandy! I should have
done something sooner. If I hadn't been so worried about
Margie and her being alone tonight, just when she's due to
deliver..."

"Don't be silly," she said again. "Quit blaming yourself. You
couldn't have come in any sooner -- that would have only
alarmed Jackie."

"But I was so involved in my own problems I didn't realize you
had been in there too long!"

"Stop it Leroy!" Mandy demanded firmly. Nothing was worse
for an officer than self-doubt, self-blame. He would never be
able to function if he let this incident impair his performance
in the future.

"What on earth possessed old man Martin to make such a
stupid move with the gun?"

"He's old, was really scared. It was impulsive, or maybe he
thought he was saving me."

"It was wrong."

Mandy drowsily looked at Leroy's anguished face. "William is
not trained like we are. The whole incident was just one of
those things that can happen to any officer. I happened to be
there, that's all."

Leroy was shaking his head incredulously. "Lieutenant Brown is
right -- you are a good officer, Miranda."

She lifted her head just enough to see he really meant it and
then smiled. "Thanks, that means a lot to me."

*  *  *  *

The night surgery was successful; Mandy awoke the next
morning to a sunny hospital room, vaguely disorientated and
hurting, but steadily improving.

The first face she saw, upon turning her head from the window,
was Stanley Scott's, her fiance. He loomed over her, tall, lean
and, as usual, impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit, the
scowl on his face dark with worry.

"Miranda, this has nearly been too much!"

"What did the doctor say?"

"You're a very lucky young lady! That small bullet didn't
puncture your stomach or any vital organs. He got it, by the
way, and says you should be good as new with some time for
recovery."

"How long?"

Stanley pointed a finger at her. "Miranda Stewart, for once
you are going to follow orders."

She smiled knowingly. This was Stanley's courtroom behavior,
an intimidating stance, an authoritative demeanor. As the
Assistant District Attorney of Ransom County, he made a
formidable opponent for the more unlucky criminals who found
themselves pitted against his relentless prosecution.

"Okay, but how long Stanley?"

"Two months, at least."

"Oh wow, no way!" Mandy exclaimed, trying to lift herself but
suddenly catching her right side where a sharp wrench of pain
reminded her of the surgery.

Stanley placed his hands on her shoulders, gently saying, "See?
You are stubborn and impossible, but I love you."

Mandy looked away. Yes, Stanley loves me, she thought, but can
he ever accept that I love being a law enforcement officer? It
had been an ongoing feud between them, more heated in the
past few months than ever. Stanley insisted she drop her
profession after their marriage, but Mandy couldn't even bear
the thought.

He touched her face. "I have a case in court this morning, so
I've got to run. But mother will be here soon."

"Oh you shouldn't have troubled her," Mandy began, thinking
how alone she was except for Stanley and his parents.

"Don't argue," he admonished, kissing her softly on the cheek,
then adjusting his black-framed glasses.

At the door, he paused and then looked back at her seriously.
"I think we can make attempted murder stick, since this Rider
kid was..."

Mandy gasped, interrupting, "No! No you can't do that! It was
an accident, Jackie was surrendering his gun when..."

Stanley held up a hand. "Don't excite yourself; we'll talk
about this later."

He left quietly, and she felt tears of frustration prick her
eyes. How could she allow Stanley to prosecute Jackie so
ruthlessly?

A nurse entered, and Mandy composed herself; this was no time
to weep, but a nagging feeling that this experience might prove
the breaking point between her and Stanley made her heart
heavy.

*  *  *  *

During the next two weeks, Miranda rested and began a fast
recovery. The doctors were amazed at her progress, but were
adamant about the two-month leave of absence from her job.

Stanley and his parents catered to her, although Mandy
constantly felt she was imposing upon them.

The night before her release, she found herself recalling
events of her life, her childhood and couldn't repress a deep
melancholy.

Retracing her close-call, Mandy acknowledged it was uncannily
similar to her brother's. Bobby, five years older than her, had
been a police officer in Charlotte, North Carolina for only one
year when he walked into the midst of a liquor store robbery
on his patrol beat. Unfortunately, the perpetrator was
wielding a sawed-off shotgun, and didn't wait for any sensible
talk. Bobby was killed instantly.

That had been the beginning of the decline for their father,
Joseph Stewart, himself a twenty-year veteran police officer.
The vitality seemed to have drained out of him when Bobby
died at such a young age. Mandy had tried to help, but it
wasn't the same. In fact, her father had been dismayed she
wanted to follow in his footsteps, becoming an officer rather
than a nurse, like her mother.

Mandy tossed and turned, her side sore and aching, as she
recalled her mother's untimely death from cancer. Afterward,
missing Bobby and his wife, Joseph had steadily deteriorated,
his health suffering from inconsolable grief.

Last Christmas, he'd suddenly dropped dead of a massive heart
attack, and left Mandy alone at the age of twenty-five. She
felt part of him was still alive though; didn't her own desire to
be such a good officer honor her father's contribution?

Stopping her introspection, Mandy worried about the upcoming
leave of absence -- and Stanley's increasing demands she
abandon such a dangerous career for something safe and
sensible. She knew their differences would pose continual
problems -- and for certain, Mandy vowed, she'd never give up
her career.

End Chapter One

CHAPTER TWO

Miranda was lounging on the patio, a cozy afghan across her
lap, resting. One week at her parents' modest home had given
her even greater strength, and she was feeling better each day.
She still had soreness, but her youthful good health helped
overcome the traumatic surgery. Eventually she hoped to start
daily walking, then slowly resume jogging.

Robert and Betty Scott, Stanley's parents, had pampered her
by bringing food, loaning a maid for household chores and
insisting Mandy not overexert herself. Since they only lived a
few blocks away, the Scotts kept an eye on her and while it
was nice of them, Mandy felt too dependent, almost helpless.

Mandy looked at the tiny patio lined by a bed of mums her
mother had cherished; soon, autumn splendor would be creating
colorful landscapes, and she could hardly wait.

Footsteps prompted her to peer around the corner of the
house; she saw Stanley striding toward her. "How's my girl
today?"

"Great! I think I'll be able to go for a walk around the block
tomorrow," Mandy said.

A scowl creased Stanley's handsome face. He ran his fingers
through neatly clipped black hair, studying her skeptically.

"Don't look at me like that!" she said, upset at his deep frown
of disapproval.

"Miranda, when will you learn there are limitations to what you
are able to do?"

"Please don't lecture Stanley. You surely get enough of that in
the courtroom."

He sighed with exasperation, then flung his lean body into a
nearby wicker chair. "We might as well have this out. You know
it's coming sooner or later."

Dreading the confrontation, Mandy nevertheless stiffened her
shoulders and jutted out her chin stubbornly. "Yes, I guess it's
time we discussed our inability to agree about my career."

Shaking his head, Stanley frowned again. "You know I'm just
concerned for you. After what happened to Bobby it seems
that you would be the first to understand what danger your
occupation places you in."

"I do fully realize the danger every moment I'm out there, but
it is my career, my choice. Just because you cannot come to
terms with it doesn't mean I should give it up."

"I'm not asking you to get out of public service entirely, just
switch to something less risky. Mother is a social worker; she
helps others and is fulfilled in that career."

Mandy winced as she put her feet on the rock patio floor,
slowly sitting upright. "I don't want to be a social worker. I'm
trained to be an officer, and I intend to be a very good one."

"Do you really think your father would want this? What would
he say if he knew you had gotten shot? After what happened
with Bobby and his reaction, I'd think you'd have some
reservations."

She flushed; he had touched a nerve, and Mandy had to
acknowledge her father would have been devastated by the
shooting. Stubbornly though, she persisted, "He'd have been
upset, but in the long run, I think he'd have understood about
my determination to continue."

Stanley got to his feet, helping her up off the lounger.
"Maybe, but I'm afraid I'm just not as understanding as him. I
love you far too much to stand by and see you injured, maybe
even...killed."

As they entered the den, Mandy glimpsed herself in a long
mirror. The paleness of her face emphasized huge brown eyes
and pinched lines near full lips -- all starkly defined by her
recent weight loss. The wan, thin chestnut-haired woman in the
mirror no longer had a zestful spark, or the perky look others
told her was especially appealing.

Grimacing, Mandy pulled her cotton robe closer and asked,
"How about some tea?"

"Good idea, I'll fix it though," Stanley said, helping her to the
floral sofa and then removing his suit jacket and rolling up his
sleeves.

As Mandy watched him make the tea, her thoughts wandered
back to the past. Stanley had always been there for her; they
had grown up in the same peaceful neighborhood, although her
parents were of more modest means. The Scotts owned a
stately home, Robert being a prominent attorney in
partnership with a prestigious Albertville firm.

In spite of the difference in their financial backgrounds,
Miranda and Stanley had been playmates as toddlers,
confidants as adolescents and teens. When Stanley returned
from the University of North Carolina with a B.A. and law
degree -- soon being appointed as Assistant D.A. -- they'd
rekindled their friendship.

Within a year, Stanley had proposed and they became engaged;
subsequently, his subtle hints about her career became more
blunt. Over the past few months, Mandy had gradually realized
he would never accept her profession.

Thinking of it now, Mandy felt a sharp pang of regret. She'd
always known it would be difficult, if not impossible, to find a
man who could accept her career choice. It was a pervasive
problem with law enforcement officers, male or female. The
danger and risk placed a big burden upon their loved ones.

"Here you go," Stanley said, setting the hot tea on the table,
pouring her a cup.

She sipped it, then turned to him, putting the cup down. Mandy
removed her diamond engagement ring and held it out to him.

His face drained of color, and he jerked his glasses off.
"Miranda...what? I mean, surely you don't want to end our
engagement?"

"It's time we faced facts. You'll never accept my career, and
I'll never give it up. Our relationship won't work under the
weight of this difference of opinion."

"Miranda..."

She placed the ring in his hand, folding his fingers over it.
"Take it back. We can always be friends, but nothing more."

Stunned, he got up, loosening his tie. "Miranda, we can work it
out. I know we can, because I love you."

Mandy stood, took his hand and looked deeply into his brown
eyes. "No, it won't work, no matter how much we might want it
to."

Stanley slumped in defeat. He paced around the room, then sat
down dejectedly. "I wish there was some way we could come to
terms with this."

"There isn't," Mandy affirmed, tears burning her eyes.

Somberly, he stood and picked up his jacket, leaving wordlessly
through the patio doors.

Alone, Mandy felt tremendous relief, but an overwhelming
sadness; however, she thought it was for the best.

*  *  *  *

The next morning Leroy stopped by, and Mandy was delighted
to learn Jackie Rider would be prosecuted only for assault,
third degree. With Mandy, Leroy and reliable references as to
Jackie's family problems and lack of prior offenses, he could
be classified under juvenile offender status, and perhaps
receive probation.

Discussing the situation, Leroy agreed it would be a waste to
lock Jackie up; he'd made a dreadful mistake, but he was young
enough to learn from that error.

The two officers had a pleasant chat, Leroy jubilantly sharing
news of his baby boy's birth. Mandy was happy for him; at
least his wife could cope with the stress of being married to an
officer.

Later, as she was reading a text on juvenile crimes, the phone
rang. "Hello?"

"Miranda, I've been thinking..."

"Stanley, I thought we got things settled yesterday?"

"Not exactly. I mean, you don't think I'll give up so easily do
you?"

She had been a bit surprised at his easy acceptance; his
tenacious nature was what made him such a superior
prosecutor.

"No, I guess not," she said hesitantly.

"Are you seeing the doctor tomorrow?"

"Yes but what..."

"Look, dad's law partner, Daniel Hite, has a rustic cabin in the
Appalachian Mountains and if the doctor agrees, I thought you
might like to go there for the next month of your leave?"

Mandy immediately jumped at the offer; the mountains were
just the medicine for mending her health -- and a broken heart.
"Oh that would be super! But are you sure Mr. Hite wouldn't
mind me using his cabin that long?"

"I don't see why he would. It's there to use, and he rarely gets
to the mountains."

She felt elated and said, "Oh I hope the doctor agrees!"

"But there is one stipulation," Stanley advised.

"Oh?"

"That you think about us, and not formally call off our
engagement. At least not until after you've had next month to
recuperate completely."

Mandy reluctantly agreed. She hung up the phone, hopeful
about the trip, but doubtful about changing her mind regarding
Stanley.

End Chapter Two

CHAPTER THREE

One week later as Mandy packed, her thoughts backtracked to
the excellent prognosis Dr. Reed had given her. Not only had he
given permission for the mountain trek, but also told her to
gradually increase her exercise and endurance. Remarkably,
Mandy's recovery had exceeded even the stern-faced Dr.
Reed's predictions.

Turning to the closet, Mandy paused to decide on clothing.
October days were usually mild, but nights could get cold. She
knew the mountains tended to be much cooler than Albertville.

Sensibly, Mandy filled her suitcases with jeans, corduroy
pants, sweaters and flannel blouses, but snatched a dressy
outfit just in case circumstances demanded one. Seeing her
hiking gear in a corner, Mandy impulsively grabbed her special
boots, small lightweight daypack, thick socks and a heavier
jacket. An avid hiker, she had accompanied her father and
brother on many backpacking trips along the Appalachian Trail
-- which covered roughly thirty-five miles of the Smoky
Mountains. Although unable to go a long distance now, Mandy
thought the opportunity for a short hike would be irresistible.

Being sure to keep the canvas bags light, she finally carried
them out to her compact Colt, one at a time. The lifting was
easier than she'd anticipated and everything was ready by two
o'clock.

Just as Mandy was locking up her home, Stanley pulled to the
curb and got out of his Prussian-blue Porsche. Striding to her,
he frowned and admonished, "I told you I'd help carry out the
luggage!"

Stifling a flash of irritation, Mandy said, "Dr. Reed told me it
was okay, as long as I didn't lift heavy stuff."

"Well I guess if he gave you permission..."

She looked at him, thinking he had never been an outdoors
person. At the idea of him suited up in hiking gear, she almost
had a fit of giggles, but squelched it, saying, "Well I'm off!"

"You be careful, and remember to call when you get there,"
Stanley advised.

"It's not like I'm going on a long trip -- the mountains are only
fifty miles from here," she couldn't help saying.

"Just the same, you be careful. And remember that you
shouldn't overdo. The whole point of going there is to relax,
and do some thinking."

"About us, you mean?"

He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Yes, about
us. The cabin is a converted barn, and the power stays on. But
you might want to pick up some groceries later -- soup should
be good this time of year."

"Please Stanley, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of
myself!" she burst out, unable to contain her frustration at
being treated like a helpless invalid.

"Okay, just so you know I'm here and you can call any time. In
fact, I may drive up on the weekend, take some time to enjoy
the mountain air."

She gave him a mock grimace, then smiled. "If I don't get
going, I'll never get there before dark, and I'm sure you won't
stand for that."

He walked her to the Colt, helped her inside and bent down for
a last kiss. "Take care Miranda, and remember, I love you.

*  *  *  *

Mandy left Albertville behind, and took a scenic two-lane
blacktop that snaked its way into the Appalachian foothills. A
blue-bowl sky above and panoramic vistas unfolding ahead gave
her a profound sense of well-being, as though life had a secret
treasure awaiting in the beckoning hillsides.

She drove skillfully, and enjoyed the trip more and more as she
entered rugged mountainous terrain; the hills soon blended into
towering, majestic mountains. Located just outside the Smokies
Park, Cavalier County boasted spectacular natural beauty, and
a quaint settlement which harbored old-fashioned mountaineer
families. Around four o'clock in the afternoon, Mandy drove
along the main street of Newcastle, North Carolina -- a small
town situated in a low-lying valley and surrounded by blue-
hazed, spiraling mountains.

Slowing, she marveled at the picturesque setting: beyond a
river bridge, the street dead-ended at the front of a Greek-
Revival three-story courthouse, a big clock on the tower. The
streets were lined with small craft shops, clothing stores, a
library, a steakhouse cafe, several service stations and a few
used car lots, she noted.

Spontaneously, Mandy pulled in at the steakhouse and parked.
She couldn't resist the charm of this tiny town, and went inside
the cafe to find a down-home country ambiance. Gingham
curtains hung over windows, with matched booths of brown-
padded seats and paneled walls. An ancient jukebox played
Crystal Gayle's country song, "Nobody's Angel."

A heavy-set woman came from the back, smiling. "What will it
be honey?"

"Just some coffee, thanks."

The woman asked, "Just passing through?"

"I'm going to be staying at Daniel Hite's cabin near Big Blue
Mountain for a few weeks."

"Hmm, that place is usually empty." The woman shook her head,
wiping away a strand of red hair. "I'm Estelle Johnson, and me
and my husband, Art, run the steakhouse here."

"Nice to meet you Estelle; I'm Miranda Stewart."

"Just coffee honey? You sure look like you could use a good
meal."

Mandy felt her cheeks burn and replied, "Yes, just coffee
right now."

As the woman left, the door opened and Mandy saw a tall,
ruggedly handsome man enter, his darkish, sun-streaked blond
hair wildly blown by the wind. He glanced at Mandy, then slid
into a booth, his back to the wall. 

Avoiding his level stare, Mandy looked out the window by her
booth. The wind was stirring more now, bringing dry early-
fallen leaves rattling over the sidewalks; a few cars moved at a
snail's pace along the quiet streets. When she saw Estelle
coming with her coffee, Mandy also noticed the man still
glancing at her curiously. Something about his clear gray eyes,
and the knowing look of scrutiny, provoked her interest. He
had mannerisms similar to her own: sitting with his back to the
wall, an unflinching survey of everything.

Estelle warmly said, "Welcome to Newcastle; I hope you enjoy
your stay in the mountains."

"Thanks," she replied, feeling instant acceptance from the
woman, handing her change for the coffee.

Sipping the coffee, Mandy once again studied the streets
outside. She was feeling good, considering the fifty-mile drive,
and thought her health would mend faster here.

"Excuse me miss, but did I hear Estelle welcome you to
Newcastle?"

The blond-haired, brawny man stood beside her, his clear gray
eyes fixed intensely upon her own brown ones. "Yes, I've just
gotten into town." He slid into the booth. "Will you be staying
here?"

His taking the liberty to seat himself without invitation
startled Mandy, but she calmly said, "In the mountains, at the
Hite cabin near Big Blue Mountain."

"Yes, that's also near Wilder Mountain."

She sipped her coffee, casually looking at him: he had wide,
husky shoulders, a muscular build -- well over six foot -- and
sharply chiseled facial features set off by those gray eyes.
Wearing faded jeans and a checked flannel shirt with
lightweight windbreaker, he seemed to exude an outdoorsman
quality, right down to the calluses on his broad hands.

He said, "I'm Keith Lachland and you are...?"

"Miranda Stewart, but my friends call me Mandy."

Keith grinned lazily, and leaned back in the seat. "And should I
call you Mandy?"

Her heart did a flip-flop, and she felt an undeniable physical
attraction to this good-looking stranger. "Uh, maybe just
Miranda for now."

"Sure Miranda."

"I really must be going, but it was nice meeting you Keith."

He stood, politely moving to assist her as she rose. Flinching at
a slight twinge in her side, Mandy let out a soft, "Ouch!"

"I'm sorry, is there a problem?" Keith asked, quick to see her
distress.

"It's nothing really..."

"Come now, your face is pale."

Aggravated at herself, Mandy felt her lips thin with tightness,
but finally admitted, "I'm recovering from surgery and I guess
I'm not quite over it yet."

Keith gently took her by the arm, and she allowed him to steer
her outside. His touch gave her a pleasant, warm sensation, but
she tried to ignore his physical appeal.

Outside, a gusty wind swept down off the mountains and caused
Mandy to shiver. She got in her car, and said, "Thanks Keith."

"No problem." He stood back from the car, looking closely at
her. "Maybe I better follow you up to that cabin? Just to
make sure you get there safely?"

"Oh no, really, I can manage the short drive."

Keith was assailed by the wind, and raised an arm to keep
blond hair out of his face. She glimpsed a bulge underneath his
jacket that looked suspiciously like a gun; then her eyes met his
concerned gaze, and she repeated, "No, really, I can manage."

"Miranda, just in case you think I might be some jerk out to
hurt you..." He flipped out a badge. "I'm with the Cavalier
County Sheriff's Department, an investigator."

She inspected his credentials, then smiled. "Well if you have
time, I wouldn't mind you following. It is getting late, and I've
never been there."

"Sure thing, be right behind you."

Mandy watched him walk to a brown Chevy Blazer, climb in and
start it. She pulled out onto main street, and drove along
slowly, turning off at Cliff Road, maneuvering the serpentine
highway as it wound perilously into the steep, mist-shrouded
mountains.

As the road turned and twisted like a roller coaster, seemingly
cutting them off from humanity, Mandy was relieved Keith had
followed. The sunset behind mountaintops cast long, purple-
pink shadows ominously across the highway.

She noticed few inhabitants along this region -- only a small
rustic craft shop that advertised dulcimers and one rural
grocery store.

Undaunted, Mandy nonetheless couldn't quell an uneasiness as
the miles passed; something about the isolation of being closed
into the mountainous territory gave her a stab of apprehension.

She saw a roaring river aptly named RUSH CREEK by a
signpost, and then farther along, a graveled road; this was the
turnoff. She pulled over, and waited for Keith to get out of his
Blazer.

As he leaned down to the window, she said, "I can make it now;
it's just about a mile up this gravel road."

"Okay, if you're sure?" His gray eyes were friendly, but still
solicitous.

"I'm sure."

"It was a pleasure meeting you Miranda," his voice drawled,
cowboy-fashion.

"You too Keith."

He started to walk away, but then turned back, asking, "You do
have a phone?"

"Yes, and the power stays on. I'll manage, don't worry," she
declared, suddenly self-conscious at his obvious concern.

Keith lifted his hands in defense. "Hey, I think you will, but
just in case you have any problems, don't hesitate to call me at
the department."

Mandy nodded. "I will, and thanks again."

In the rearview mirror, Mandy watched him walk back to his
Blazer and leave. She briefly pondered his physical appeal,
then resolutely dismissed him as she steered the Colt toward
the darkened roadway. 

End Chapter Three


CHAPTER FOUR

Mandy peered into the dusky twilight, driving carefully along
the narrow forest lane. Cumbersome trees, lowland gums,
magnolias and conifers, crowded the little Colt as she pressed
on for the mile back into secluded private property.

Finally emerging out of the canopied roadway, she glimpsed a
cedar-sided cabin. Rounding a massive tulip tree, she pulled
into the yard. The cabin was indeed a gambrel-roofed barn,
but obviously had been remodeled for modern living
accommodations.

Resting a moment, she studied the landscape. Isolated in a
gorge between two lofty mountains, the cabin was surrounded
by maples, oaks and cedars; the yard was neat and embellished
by rock gardens, shrubbery and flowering foliage.

Slipping from the car, Mandy went to the side of the cabin; a
field beyond the back patio was dappled by goldenrods, their
ocher blossoms swaying in mountain winds. She took one
suitcase from the car trunk, and walked to the miniature porch.
Retrieving keys from her purse, she opened the wooden door,
flipping on a light switch inside.

Mandy's first impression was of airy openness: the layout of a
barn cut straight through to the rear, high ceiling overhead;
but on the left, beneath the loft, was a small, modern kitchen.
It had wood-stained cabinets cleverly designed to match
rough-hewn beams, columns and posts that provided structural
support.

To the right, beneath the other loft, was a dining room, wooden
wagon wheel light fixture above a colonial table. The center
area was a family room, furnished with traditional sofa
upholstered in paisley print and wing chairs of burgundy suede
cloth. Muted earth tones and neutral shades created a pleasing
color scheme; the old haylofts were converted to bedrooms,
wooden stairs leading above.

She put her suitcase down, and walked around admiring the
rustic decor. It had been designed exquisitely, and she noted
the reproduction wood-burning stove in the kitchen, colonial-
style lanterns, patchwork quilts, folkart, wicker baskets and
antique chests placed throughout the area to lend country
charm.

Mandy looked overhead and discovered a skylight; it would
provide a lovely tint to the family room during daylight hours.
She picked up her suitcase, and gingerly mounted the wooden
steps on the left.

In the bedroom, she set down the luggage near a brass bed,
delighted by a bright patchwork quilt. A door led to a small
but adequate bathroom, and she quickly freshened up.

Back downstairs, Mandy couldn't resist climbing to the other
hayloft on the right; it was empty, except for one lone
ladderback chair facing a curtainless window at the rear of
the cabin. She walked to the chair, sat down and stared outside
at the back yard. Her eyes were drawn to the high
mountainpeaks, both looming darkly against the lavender sky.
She felt suddenly anxious, and was unable to discern why.

The left mountain would be Big Blue, and the one on the right,
probably Wilder Mountain, she figured. Big Blue was only half
the height of Wilder Mountain -- over 4,000 feet she
estimated, although nightfall prevented an accurate assessment.

Mandy stood, and walked across the empty space wondering
why it struck her so oddly. The chair was placed as though
someone sat in front of the window, looking outside. Of course
perhaps they did just that, she chastised herself; after all, it
was a spectacular view!

Realizing she was hungry, Mandy went to the kitchen and
peeked into the cabinets. Luckily, she found a can of chicken
noodle soup and decided that would hit the spot. She warmed it
on the stove, made coffee and ate her meal in quiet
contemplation.

She replayed her meeting with Keith Lachlan; he seemed
dynamic and adventurous. An investigator with the Sheriff's
Department, she sensed him to be a rugged individualist who
could no doubt handle himself in any situation, dangerous or
otherwise. And too, she couldn't deny his physical appeal, the
undeniable attraction she had felt in his presence. Coupled with
sensitivity and the understanding nature she'd glimpsed, Keith
appeared to be an interesting man.

At last, she went upstairs to unpack. Mandy hung her few
garments in a tiny closet, making several trips to the car to get
the rest of her luggage.

Finally she phoned Stanley to let him know she'd arrived
safely. Although Mandy felt she was regaining her strength,
the trip had exhausted her. She had a long soak in the bathtub,
and fell asleep when her head hit the pillow.

*  *  *  *

A loud rumbling noise brought Mandy out of a sound sleep, and
she sat up, listening. It sounded like a truck engine, and
thinking someone was approaching the cabin, she eased out of
bed and went to a window overlooking the front yard.

Moonlight etched dim tree-shadows across the landscape, but
no vehicle was anywhere in sight. She looked toward the narrow
road, wondering if a truck would emerge from overhanging
trees. Nothing appeared, and at last she climbed back in bed, a
bit disconcerted but thinking perhaps she'd dreamed the noise.

*  *  *  *

The following morning, Mandy dressed in her jogging suit and
then sipped hot coffee to get her senses alert.

The skylight bathed everything in a rosy light and she did a
few warm-up stretching exercises while watching the news on a
portable TV.

Slipping on a light jacket, she went outside. Dawn was breaking
and the air was crisp -- just perfect for a slow walk along the
mile lane to the highway, she thought. Mandy set out slowly
through misty morning fog, taking her time and not pushing
herself. Smiling, she felt exhilarated; the mountain air always
restored her good spirits.

About half a mile down the lane, Mandy stopped and breathed
deeply, letting her body relax and rest. It was more difficult
than she'd anticipated, and she thought briefly of turning
back; she had a sudden vision of Stanley pointing his finger in
her face, angry at her persistence and determination. He will
never understand me, she thought regretfully.

Pressing onward, she walked even slower, careful not to set an
impossible pace. She listened to birds chattering in the woods,
the gentle wind rustling trees and the faint, faraway gurgling
of Rush Creek flowing downhill. Even though earthen scents and
fresh balsam mountain air invigorated her, she took another
break near the highway, then another halfway back.

Satisfied with herself, Mandy entered the cabin and went to
take a quick shower. Afterward, dressed in jeans and red
pullover sweater, she felt prepared for early October
weather. She'd heard on TV that a cold-front was passing
through, and knew a frost should hurry the leaves into brilliant
crimsons and golds, splashing the mountainsides with fabulous
displays of nature's artwork.

She rested for almost an hour, making a grocery list. Around
nine o'clock, she drove back down Cliff Road to the small
country store she'd spotted yesterday.

Inside, she was warmly welcomed by two elderly women who
seemed genuinely glad of her company. Mandy began wandering
through the store, getting items at random when one lady asked,
"Honey, can we help you?"

"I'm finding what I need, thanks." Mandy continued exploring,
appreciative of the old-fashioned atmosphere so lacking in
modern convenience stores. Planked floors, walls, shelves and
counters gave it a weathered touch; all the ads were papered
across a back wall, near a big pot-bellied stove where two old
men sat chewing tobacco.

One man commented, "Ain't never seen you hereabouts, miss."

"I'm Miranda Stewart, and I'm staying at the Hite cabin out
past Rush Creek."

"That so? You heard the crying yet?" he inquired, his head
tilted expectantly.

"Crying?" Mandy stood stock-still, watching the old-timer spit
tobacco juice into a tin can.

He cackled, then said, "Yeah, old legend hereabouts has a cry-
baby holler over there near the Hite cabin. Say poor crazy
Imogene MacGregory done went and drowned her baby in Rush
Creek long time ago, and that a feller can hear that baby
crying at night."

Mandy felt goose pimples along her arms and neck, but quickly
dismissed the sensation with a shake of her head. "Oh, a legend!
I'm always interested in mountain folklore."

The other old gent rubbed his chin, a look of doom on his
wizened face. "Nah, it's true. I heard it myself once, gived me
a right smart scare, it did. They say when the wind is right, a
feller can even hear Imogene calling that baby..."

"That certainly is scary, all right," she agreed, hastily moving
toward the counter.

"Don't let them old geezers frighten you, honey," one of the
elderly ladies said. "They got nothing better to do than chew
the fat all day."

The other woman added, "I'm Harriet Caudell and this is
Mable; we're sisters, and those tall-tales are coming from our
menfolk."

"Good to meet you," Mandy replied. "I'm Miranda Stewart,
but you can call me Mandy."

They both smiled.

"Now, is this all you'll be needing, honey?" Harriet asked.

"Yes, but I'll probably be dropping in off and on. I'm staying
a month here."

Mandy stared at the two gray-haired sisters; they were short,
plump and reminded her of other mountain women in their
simple cotton dresses and unassuming, friendly nature. It
seemed to her that time stood still here, modern life just a
vague dream somewhere out of reach.

As she took her sack of groceries, Mandy saw a mud-
splattered camouflage-colored truck pull in. It was a monster,
one of those four-wheel drives with Wild Country tires,
elevated high off the ground.

She went outside, but couldn't help noticing the man and woman
inside the truck seemed to be arguing; in her past experience,
domestic disturbances were easily recognized, and often
resulted in violence.

Just as Mandy got into her car, the man slammed out of the
truck and slouched to the store. She felt an intuitive red-alarm
and watched apprehensively. The man acted suspiciously as he
looked back over his shoulder at her, then from side to side,
and all around the small parking lot.

He finally went inside, but Mandy did not leave. She sat there
fiddling with her purse (where a small handgun was stashed),
pretending to be absorbed but actually glancing
surreptitiously inside the store, alert to trouble. She also
discovered the truck tag to be unreadable; mud was plastered
over the numbers.

When the man emerged from the store, and slouched back to
the truck, Mandy keenly observed him. As he got inside, she
glimpsed a little girl, probably no more than two, in the seat;
the child was cowering, visibly afraid.

But what struck Mandy was the child's clothing: She was
dressed immaculately in a red velvet dress, her white-blond
hair adorned with a matching set of ribbons. The man and
woman were attired in wrinkled, soiled clothing, and both had
stringy, dirty hair which made such a dramatic contrast to the
child that Mandy was gripped with a powerful sense of
incongruity and the intuitive knowledge that something was
terribly wrong about the threesome.

When they'd left, she went back into the store and casually
asked if the Caudells knew them. No, they said, the truck was
unfamiliar, the man unknown to them. He had never been a
customer before today.

Driving back to the cabin, Mandy couldn't help feeling as
though she'd witnessed a bad omen for her stay in the
mountains. 

End Chapter Four

CHAPTER FIVE

The next week passed uneventfully as Mandy kept testing
herself, increasing her endurance patiently, steadily. By Friday
she could make the one-mile lane in a fast walk, and was
thoroughly satisfied with her progress. Knowing the value of
physical fitness in her career, Mandy realized she couldn't
afford to return in less than perfect condition.

Saturday morning, she made the one mile in a slow jog, and
stopped at Cliff Road to rest for the return walk. Sitting on a
fallen log at the edge of the forest, she saw Keith's Blazer
come down the road and pull over.

He leaned out the window, yelling, "'How's it going Miranda?"

Smiling, she stood and walked to the Blazer. "Great! I'm able
to jog the mile out here!" She thought he looked even more
handsome in his brown-and-beige uniform, the cowboy-style hat
tipped low over his gray eyes.

"And you've had surgery recently?" Keith shook his head.
"You're a glutton for punishment!"

"Nope, I'm not. But I am very determined to return to my job
in good shape; my life depends on it."

Keith studied her earnestly, his gray eyes meeting hers. "And
what is it that you do?"

"I'm an officer with Albertville Police Department." 

He chuckled, and his eyes twinkled mischievously. "You
certainly don't look like a police officer."

"So I've been told, but don't let my size deceive you. I came
through the Police Academy at the top of my class, and hold a
degree in Criminal Justice from Albertville Community
College." She paused a moment, adding in a joking tone, "I can
handle myself too; martial arts was my favorite class. Care to
test me?"

Keith laughed outright. "No way! I can see you take your job
seriously, though," he said, still laughing but looking at the
petite young woman with new respect.

She leaned against the Blazer. "What you doing today, on
patrol? Out on a case?"

The door opened and Keith stepped out, leaning back against
the Blazer beside Mandy. "'I just ended my shift, and was
heading home. Actually I live with my parents on down Cliff
Road. They own fifty acres of land, most of it just beyond
Wilder Mountain."

"Oh? And do you love the mountains?" Mandy asked,
inordinately happy to learn he was apparently single.

"Of course I love the mountains, or I wouldn't still be here."
He gestured widely with his arms at the panoramic scenery.
"Who wouldn't love these hills? Seems anyone would, but my
five brothers didn't. They all left for better jobs, and as the
youngest at twenty-six, I'm the only one who stayed."

Mandy walked back to the log, sitting down and saying, "I've
always loved the mountains. My brother and dad used to take
me with them backpacking into the Smokies."

Keith joined her, easing his tall, husky frame onto the log.
"That's an unusual thing for a girl, isn't it?"

Mandy laughed. "So I've been told, but I was never one to
listen to that dribble."

He smiled. "So how are you liking the cabin?"

"It's nice, and I'm really gaining strength from the mountain
air."

He suddenly looked up as a car passed, the young man and
woman waving to him as they drove on by. Keith lifted his hand
in greeting, and then looked at Mandy.

She asked, "You know just about everyone in Cavalier County,
I guess?"

"Sure, I grew up here -- and too, it's part of my job to know
folks."

Mandy recalled the peculiar couple at the store and probed,
"Do you know a couple who own a camouflage four-wheel drive
Silverado, kinda tough machine with monster tires and equipped
for backcountry travel?"

"That depends, what's the couple look like?"

"To be honest, sort of sleazy. I saw them at Caudell's store,
and something really looked suspicious about them. They had a
little girl with them that...I don't know, she seemed out of
place, like she didn't belong with them."

"Did you get a tag number?"

"Couldn't. Mud hid the numbers, and covered the whole truck,
like it'd been through the hills or somewhere in backwoods
travel."

Keith shook his head, tipping back his hat. "No truck like that
comes to mind, but remember that lots of hillfolks live way
back in the sticks, and act odd -- or at least, their actions may
appear eccentric to most average people. Besides, the little
girl may have been a city relative, or something like that."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right although the Caudells didn't
know them, I asked. Something about the couple just aroused a
gut-level feeling of alarm -- all the bells went off."

"I've had that happen, and I know how it can disturb you, keep
you wondering."

She was appreciative of his ability to zero in on her exact
feelings, a special rapport officers shared.

"I tell you what, I'll keep an eye out for the truck and if I see
it, I'll stop them for a little chat," he said, standing up and
dusting off his beige uniform pants.

He reached out a hand to Mandy, and as she let him pull her
gently to her feet, their eyes met and held. He kept holding her
hand, and she found his touch like a sunburst in her heart.

"I was just wondering Miranda..."

"You can call me Mandy," she corrected, feeling shy beneath
his penetrating stare.

"Mandy, I was wondering if you might have a free day
tomorrow? I'd like to ask you out for dinner and a little
sightseeing of Cavalier County."

She found herself saying happily, "Yes, that would be fun."

"About noon, then?"

"Fine."

Keith let her hand go, and walked back to the Blazer calling,
"See you tomorrow, Mandy."

She watched him leave and felt euphoric all the way back to
the cabin.

*  *  *  *

That afternoon Mandy had a phone call from Stanley; he was
irate at her physical exertion, warning her again she might be
overdoing. Irritated, Mandy told him she was unable to talk,
and had to return to her cake, which would burn if she didn't
get it out of the oven.

Later she sat outside in the twilight, pondering the euphoric
mood Keith had fostered. He was more than she had ever
dreamed of; if she'd ordered a man made just for her, it would
be Keith Lachlan -- or at least what she knew of him now
indicated that.

But there was her dilemma with Stanley to consider; he'd stood
by her through a lot, and would always be a dear friend.
However, Mandy felt that was all he could be; not only did
they have differing opinions on her career, but Mandy vaguely
wondered if what she'd always felt for Stanley was only
friendship? Burning, passionate desire had never really ignited
in her for Stanley, and she reluctantly acknowledged that fact.

Still preoccupied by her thoughts, Mandy walked around the
patio, across the back yard and into the dense woods at the
base of Big Blue Mountain. Now in deep afternoon shadows, it
presented an eerily beautiful temptation.

She tread a well-defined footpath, seeing damp straw and
fallen leaves piled along the way. Slender slips of mossy
fingers clung to tree trunks, and she saw a clear-running creek
ahead. Mandy stood looking at the moss-slick banks, and lacy
ferns edging Rush Creek. 

She sat down on a tree stump, staring at the peaceful woodland
retreat. Wet foliage, decaying leaves and pungent conifers
scented the cool wind; the quiet was broken only by a dove's
plaintive call.

And then she heard a strange sound -- at first only a thin,
tinny sound like a brittle scraping, it mounted with intensity
until a crying wail was echoing through the woods. Mandy
jumped up, quaking and weak-kneed as the eerie crying echoed
over and over.

Standing there, she felt compelled to run back to the cabin,
but forced herself to listen calmly. It made her scalp tingle;
the crying changed into a sob, a cry, then back to a sob,
sobbing. It sounded like a baby, a real baby; she moved along
the creekbank, hypnotized by the eerie sound.

Finally Mandy stopped, realizing it was darker now, and would
soon be impossible to locate the origin of sound. Still, it
seemed to spiral down from the mountains, and sweep over her
with the wind.

Puzzled, she went back to the cabin. Reasoning it to be the
source of "the cry-baby hollow legend," Mandy resolutely
dismissed the chilling experience -- but not without some
reservations.

*  *  *  *

During the night Mandy came awake with a start, and sprang up
in bed. A rumbling motor shattered the quiet night, and she
hurried to the front window. Seeing nothing, she went to the
back bedroom window but saw only low cloud cover, a starless
sky. Mandy went downstairs and mounted to the empty loft,
walking to the chair and sitting at the curtainless window. Far
up the steep side of Wilder Mountain, she glimpsed the brief
flicker of what appeared to be tail-lights.

She sat there for over an hour, trying to decide if she'd really
seen a vehicle on that mountainside. Stanley had told her the
mountain was virgin wilderness, hence the name, Wilder
Mountain. Supposedly, no roads existed there.

At last exhausted by her jumbled thoughts, Mandy crept back
to bed, determined to mention the incident to Keith. 

End chapter Five

CHAPTER SIX

Mandy dressed in a frilly white blouse and plaid tartan skirt,
pulling on a red cardigan sweater. Turning before the mirror,
she approved of the wholesome image. Brushing her short,
bouncy chestnut hair, she added a red clasp, then applied a
scant touch of makeup.

Looking out the window, she was again overwhelmed by the
colorful hillsides. Autumn had ushered in a vibrant array of
fire-flamed trees, and she was once more enchanted by the
mixture of dazzling contrasts in crimson, gold, scarlet and
amber, the electric colors amplified by sunshine.

The bedside digital clock read noon exactly, and she heard a
crunch of gravel; Keith's Blazer emerged from the roadway,
and she saw him pull up in front, swing out of the vehicle and
hurry to the door.

Mandy walked down the wooden stairs, and paused a moment
before opening the door. She felt a momentary nervousness,
unlike her customary self-confident nature, and struggled to
compose herself.

Taking a calming breath, she opened the door to see Keith
leaning nonchalantly against the frame. Gray pullover sweater
and herringbone pants emphasized his muscular build, and the
indolent smile played on his tan, chiseled face. He ran a broad
hand through his sun-streaked blond hair, asking, "Am I
early?"

"No, right on time!" Mandy moved aside, waving an arm
invitingly. "Won't you come in a minute while I get my purse?"

"Sure." Keith sauntered in with easy grace. He let his eyes
move slowly around the antiquated interior, missing nothing.

Mandy retrieved her purse and asked, "Nice, isn't it?"

"Yes, must have been a chore to achieve this effect," he
announced, touching the wicker basket that dangled from a
rafter. "These are from a craft store down the road."

"Oh?"

"Yes, where Papa Jess makes dulcimers."

"I saw his place south of here and would enjoy browsing
there."

"We'll stop in there later," Keith stated, fingering a colonial-
style lantern. 

"Wired for electricity?"

Mandy nodded. "I can't believe what Daniel Hite did with this
old place."

"People who come here as tourist spare no expense, barns,
cottages, cabins...anything to get away from the city, I guess."
Suddenly he fixed Mandy in a stare, declaring, "You look
healthy, almost like you never had surgery."

"Thanks," she replied, smiling.

"Red suits you, it brings out the spark in those brown,
inquisitive eyes."

She looked away, but said softly, "Thanks."

"Let's go," he eventually said.

Outside, they climbed in the Blazer and set off on a leisurely
drive north along Cliff Road. Keith enthusiastically told about
various landmarks, like Red Creek where mountaineers once
staged a feud with embittered farmers of the valley. The
mountaineers meant to keep the farmers from trapping game on
their highland property. Armed and dangerous, both sides
waged war, but it all ended when moonshine became the great
equalizer: mountaineers made it in the backwoods, and valley
farmers willingly helped run it into cities.

"And Red Creek, which ran red with blood from the fights, is
still known as the reddest water that flows from the
mountains," Keith concluded.

Mandy said, "Moonshine was a big boom here at one time, but
that is mostly in the past, isn't it?"

"Fortunately, although some of the hillfolk still think along
illegal lines, growing marijuana in remote areas."

"Really?"

"Yes, but we try to eradicate what we can."

Farther along, Keith proudly pointed out the pastureland of his
parents' valley acreage, but their house wasn't visible from
the highway.

Then the blacktop ascended toward a mountain range, and
Mandy asked, "Where does this lead?"

"To Bluffpark Point, a scenic overlook you'll have to see to
appreciate."

She stared in awe at the colorful fall plumage on mountainsides
as the Blazer wound sharply upward; her pleasure was evident
in a contented smile, and she commented, "Autumn and spring
are my favorite seasons."

"Mine too," Keith said.

Reaching a turnoff, Mandy saw the sign, BLUFFPARK POINT,
and watched raptly as the Blazer wound around several curves,
and finally pulled into a vast clearing.

Keith got out, and came around to her side, opening the door.
"This is one of my favorite places to think and reflect on life,"
he said, leading her across the grassy slope and to a wooden
rail that seemed poised on the edge of infinity.

Mandy gasped at the miles and miles before them, the sheer
drop below almost like a hole in space. As far as the eyes could
see, valley farmland spread out like an endless ocean of
cultivated squares. Beyond, she saw blue-tinted mountains.
"This is breathtaking!"

Keith looked on in admiration, then propped a foot on the wood
railing. "Yes, one of the reasons I could never leave the
mountains."

"I don't blame you!"

He faced her, his clear gray eyes inquiring. "You really do love
the mountains?"

She remained enchanted by the view and replied, "Oh yes, but
I don't get here often enough."

Quietly studying her face, Keith finally turned back to the
view below. "These mountains have lots of history and
heritage."

"So I've read."

"My ancestors were Scotch-Irish and initially settled over on
Small Mountain, near Newcastle. But as the years passed, they
were unable to eek out a livelihood and some drifted down to
the fertile valleys, becoming farmers, like my parents. Even so,
there is a fierce individualistic nature within us to this day
that we inherited from our mountaineer ancestors."

Mandy looked at him knowingly. "Yes, I've sensed that in you
already."

He grinned. "That obvious, huh?"

"Yes." She abruptly turned and walked along the railing, Keith
following. "I was wondering, do you know anything about the
history of Wilder Mountain, or Big Blue -- or even who sold
that property to Daniel Hite?"

"Well sure, the land Hite bought came down through one family
here, MacGregory, and they lost it only when the last heir was
forced to sell due to his poor health and no one to pass it along
to."

"That's sad," Mandy mused, "but I was wondering, are there
any hill families living on Wilder Mountain or Big Blue?"

"For years the MacGregory family lived up on Big Blue, but no
one to my knowledge has ever had the gumption to stake out
Wilder Mountain. It's wilderness and then too, black bear,
bobcats and other wild animals are a danger there."

Mandy was puzzled, but decided not to mention her experience
last night; after all, it was pretty farfetched to think she'd
actually seen tail-lights on Wilder Mountain.

At last they headed back down Cliff Road and stopped off at
Papa Jess Jackson's craft shop. It was another time-warp; the
weathered plank building had an interior filled with all manner
of mountain crafts brought in by highlanders: hand-whittled
wood carvings, leather goods, basket-weave crafts and even
chairs with reed-split bottoms built by old-time cane workers.

Mandy was captivated by the artistic creations, and picked up
a small fragile doll made out of dried corn husks, its delicate
facial features etched with berry-died strokes. "I must have
this Keith," she said, holding it preciously.

Papa Jess winked at her. "Miss, that's the finest folktoy
hereabouts; my niece made it."

"I definitely want to buy it," she stated, but Keith took it
from her and insisted on paying for it -- his gift of
appreciation for her company, he explained.

Papa Jess, in his sixties, entertained them with a free dulcimer
concert. It was hauntingly tender music, and stirred Mandy
almost to tears. Something about the string instrument evoked
sadness, a deep melancholy for the poverty of past generations,
for mountaineers' austere dignity and independence.

Before they left, Papa Jess invited them to a Fall Craft
Festival to be held in downtown Newcastle the next weekend.
It was a tradition, he told Mandy, and she eagerly agreed to
attend the event.

Keith then drove to a restaurant past Newcastle, and they
dined lavishly as the conversation between them ebbed and
flowed.

Later both were chatting amiably when Keith drove down the
narrow lane. Mandy was feeling happier than she'd been in
years, and grimaced when they pulled up to the cabin.
Stanley's prussian-blue Porsche was parked in the yard.

Keith took in her displeasure and commented, "Looks like you
have company."

"Yes...uh, Keith I would ask you in, but I'm afraid this visitor
might be...well, it'll just be better if I handle it alone," she
apologized.

He looked at her a long moment, then shrugged. "Whatever you
say, Mandy. I really enjoyed our outing today."

"Me too," she hastily told him, getting out and then leaning
back inside. "Thanks for a wonderful afternoon."

"Sure thing, be seeing you around," Keith said, waving goodbye
as she hurriedly spun around and headed quickly for the cabin.

End Chapter Six

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mandy opened the door, and immediately saw a scowling
Stanley sitting on the sofa. He jumped to his feet, demanding,
"Where have you been? I was worried sick, thought you'd
disappeared into thin air!"

She calmly stared at him, and walked to a wing chair. "What
are you doing here? I thought this was supposed to be my time
alone, time to think."

"Yes it is. Are you doing that?"

"I am." She sat down and he stormed over to her, demanding,
"Where were you!"

Mandy rolled her eyes heavenward. "If you must know, I was
out with a friend seeing some of this lovely mountain
territory."

"A friend? You don't know anyone here! Or do you?" Stanley
dropped down on the sofa, perplexed.

"As a matter of fact, I have met a very nice man who offered
to give me a tour of the area."

"What's his name?"

"Keith Lachlan and..."

He stood abruptly, pointing his finger in her face. "You should
know better than anyone not to trust strangers!"

"My goodness Stanley, he's with the Cavalier County Sheriff's
Department."

"Ah." He seemed to shrink before her, and suddenly unknotted
his tie, pulling off his black suit jacket. 

"Stanley, what are you doing here?" she persisted. 

"I just drove up to check on you, see how your health was
coming along." He walked over to her, looking down into her
flushed face.

"You do seem to be getting the color back in your cheeks."

"I'm really recuperating better than I expected. The mountain
air agrees with me, as you know, and I'm able to go for long
walks now..."

"Surely you're kidding? That's too much for you!"

"Please Stanley, let's not have another argument."

He threw up his hands in exasperation. "I give up! You are the
most independent female on the face of this earth."

She grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Shaking his head and smiling, Stanley sat down again on the
sofa. "So be it. Actually, there's another reason I came here."

"Oh, what?"

"I missed you."

She softened and murmured, "I've missed you too Stanley,
you're the best friend I ever had."

"Have you thought any about our engagement?" he asked
hopefully.

"You know how I feel. I'm not going to change my mind."

He cleared his throat and went to rummage in the cabinets,
clinking glasses and ice, then returning with a mixed drink. "I'd
ask you to join me, but I know you never touch liquor."

"Right. I've seen too many traffic accidents and family fights
brought on by it to ever indulge," Mandy replied.

"Well there is yet another reason I came here," he said,
sipping the drink and sprawling easily on the sofa. 

"Yes?"

"Mandy I hardly know how to tell you this, but when I first
suggested you take this cabin for a month, I really didn't
expect you'd do it."

"So?" 

"So I really hadn't asked Daniel Hite for the use of his cabin,
and when you did accept, I couldn't bear disappointing you. I
had keys because he'd once offered the cabin to me, so I just
gave them to you..."

"You mean you didn't get Hite's permission first?" she burst
out, alarmed.

"No, but then I didn't expect he'd care. This place hasn't been
used much by him since his wife died over a year ago."

"But how could you let me come here uninvited?"

"Look, I just had no idea he would object."

"And now he does?" Mandy exclaimed.

"Not exactly, but when I told him about your trip, well, he did
seem a little flustered, like... I don't know, just rather
disturbed. But then, that could have been surprise, because
later he seemed fine about the whole thing, insisting you stay
as long as you wish."

"I feel terrible about this Stanley!" she said, standing and
pacing around worriedly. "Maybe I should just pack and go
home?" Her heart sank at the thought, and she was forced to
admit that was because of Keith Lachlan.

"Well if that is what you wish, but like I said, Daniel says it's
fine with him if you stay the full month."

Mandy sat down, suddenly tired. "I'd like to stay; the
mountains are good for me, always have been."

"Then it's settled. You'll stay and I'll tell Daniel."

*  *  *  *

Sunday morning Mandy didn't jog; her outing the day before,
and the encounter with Stanley, had taken a toll on her. She
stayed in bed until around ten, and then got up, ate a snack of
granola and hot chocolate and went to relax beneath the
skylight with an absorbing novel.

Around noon she wandered outside, sitting on the patio to gaze
up at Big Blue Mountain, and then Wilder Mountain. The
immensity of those peaked vistas seemed to hold the essence of
natural beauty, especially with explosive, riotous autumn leaves
in full grandeur.

Impulsively, she walked to the edge of the woods, listening. The
crying sound had left her with an uneasy feeling, and she
desperately wanted to learn exactly what caused that peculiar
phenomenon. Her pragmatic mind rejected regional folklore,
and she knew there must be a logical explanation for the
echoing cries. Too tired to tackle such a project now, she went
back inside just as she heard the familiar sound of Keith's
Blazer drive up. 

He was knocking at the door by the time she got there, and
smiled down at her warmly. "Hope I'm not intruding, but I was
passing by and just thought I'd check on you," he explained.

Mandy swiped at her hair, remembering she'd only run a brush
through it haphazardly. Her baggy sweatshirt and patched
jeans had been put on for comfort. She said, "I must look a
mess."

"Actually you look...well, you look pretty good to me in
anything," he replied earnestly.

"Come on in, I was just about to make some homemade chili.
Have you eaten?"

"No. Is that an invitation?" He hung back in the doorway,
uncertain of being welcome on such short notice.

"Sure, if you are prepared for my chili!"

"Hey, I'm game!" Keith strode inside, rolling up his flannel
shirt sleeves. "In fact, I make a mean salad, if you can put up
with me in the kitchen."

She laughed and joined him in front of the old-fashioned wood
stove, tying an apron around him and putting one on herself too.

He chuckled. "You better be glad this isn't a real wood stove!"

They both dug in, whipping up a steaming pot of chili, a crisp
salad, and then eating it companionably.

Mandy once again found herself bouyantly happy in Keith's
presence, and inwardly worried she was allowing him to
dominate her feelings. Stanley was too recent a disappointment
for her to trust that anyone, even another officer, could
accept her career.

Afterward, they sat in the family room and she asked, "Keith,
have you ever heard of the cry-baby hollow legend?"

He laughed. "Sure, everyone has around this county. Why? You
heard the crying yet?"

"Yes, and it is really strange." Mandy leaned forward,
explaining, "I mean, it almost seems too real to be anything
other than babies crying."

"I only heard it once, when I was up on Big Blue tracking last
year, but they say down here in the woods it's eerie."

She stood. "Let's go out there, and you can listen."

They both put on their heavier jackets, and walked out into the
chilly afternoon. It was unusually still, no wind at all, and
Mandy walked quietly alongside him to the edge of the woods
near Big Blue. They stood in the pale, filtering sunlight, both
attentive and alert. Nothing stirred, only a soft cooing of
doves disturbing the unnatural stillness. 

Finally Mandy said, "There's no wind today, but when I walked
down that footpath to the creek, the sound seemed to come off
the mountain with the late afternoon winds. It was very, very
strange. I got the feeling it couldn't be just a natural
phenomenon, but a real baby crying."

He asked softly, "Now Mandy, where would a real baby be in
this wilderness?"

"Are you sure no hill families live on either mountain?"

"Positive. You see, not only am I an investigator, but I work
with the tracking team at the Sheriff's Department, and also
I've applied..." He broke off, as though having revealed more
than he meant to.

"So you've been up in these mountains recently?"

"Only Big Blue last year, but not on Wilder Mountain in over
two years. However, the last time I was on either one, no
humans inhabited the area."

"Hmm, I see."

"Look Mandy, there is a peculiar sound made by wind sweeping
off the mountaintops, almost a roar at first, then an eerie
whine. Not just here, but all over these hills."

He paused, rubbing his chin. "And too, it could be dry pines
scraping together, a night bird's cry...lots of things that can be
explained rationally."

She had to agree with him, and although she still felt it odd
that the sound was so similar to the cries of a real baby, she
didn't voice her reservations.

The mysterious engine and tail-lights crossed her mind, but she
couldn't bring herself to mention it. As an officer, Keith was
bound to think her lacking if she divulged such groundless
suspicions and baseless information, which she didn't
understand herself.

As they walked back to the cabin, Keith casually asked, "How
was your company last night? Everything okay?"

She was silent until they stepped onto the patio, then jammed
her hands in her jacket pockets, breathing deep of the frosty
air. "Yes, it worked out fine."

Twilight shadows fell across the field, sunlight fading fast
behind the mountains as she stared at the massive silhouettes
before her. Suddenly Keith turned her to him, brought her
close, his lips gently touching hers.

The kiss was tender, and Mandy responded but pulled away
first, afraid of the feelings he aroused in her. "Keith..."

"I'm sorry Mandy...but I...well, I couldn't resist that," he
apologized.

"It's just that...um, I'm not ready for a relationship now," she
mumbled.

He shrugged, and looked away from her. "Is it because of the
mystery visitor in the Porsche?"

"In a way yes, and in a way no."

He laughed lightly. "Now that's a vague answer."

"Sorry, but I just can't talk about it right now." She stamped
her feet, growing cold in the darkening evening.

He went to the door, opening it for her. Inside they looked into
one another's eyes and Mandy was the first to turn away.

"Guess I'll be going now," Keith said awkwardly, heading to the
front door.

"Wait just a second, I do want to explain one thing."

He looked at her expectantly, hopefully.

"The surgery I had...it was because I got shot. I walked into a
store where a young boy was holding up the owner."

"Mandy!" Keith's voice was husky, and he moved to her side
quickly, looking into her upturned face. "It must have been
hard to handle, that's the kind of thing every officer dreads."

His sympathetic understanding touched her; she went into his
arms, whispering, "Yes, it was."

He held her as though she were a precious treasure, touching
her hair and saying huskily, "You must be a good officer. I'm
sure your department is proud of you, Miranda Stewart."

Clinging to him, Mandy felt the first rush of emotional release
she'd known since the shooting. With Keith, she could express
her true feelings, and not fear recriminations. Her words
poured out uncensored: "It was frightening, awful in some
ways, and I can't deny I felt helpless at first. But I did talk
the boy into giving up his weapon. It was just as I was about to
hold out my hand for his gun that the store owner reached for
a weapon under the counter..."

"Dang, a bad move!"

"Yes and I...I was shot accidentally. The kid didn't mean to do
it, but the gun went off as he turned, startled by the owner's
movement."

"I understand Mandy," he whispered, stroking her hair,
soothing her as she began to sob.

She felt stinging, pent-up tears coursing down her face and
was powerless to stop them. She cried softly while he held her;
it was a healing cry.

Later, as he was about to leave, Keith said, "You're special
Mandy. Whatever the situation with, well...with the visitor, I
would still like to consider you a good friend, and I already
know you're a brave officer."

In bed that night, she felt cleansed, renewed; the burden of
suppressed emotions from the shooting had been worse than
she'd known. Keith, as another officer, had allowed her that
defenseless release; it had been wonderful.

Drifting off to sleep, she once again realized Keith was a man
who seemed to fulfill her deepest desires, who seemed to read
her mind almost.

However, Mandy reminded herself to reign in the fleeting
fantasies; after all, she didn't know everything about Keith
Lachlan.        

End Chapter Seven

 CHAPTER EIGHT

Mandy resumed her jogging Monday, increased her endurance
by Wednesday and on Thursday decided to take a short hike
up Big Blue Mountain.

The day was sunny, unseasonably warm; she dressed in jeans,
sweatshirt, boots and packed a lunch in her lightweight
daypack. Setting out around ten o'clock, Mandy hiked along
the footpath, crossed clear-running Rush Creek and then
started up the gently sloped hillside of Big Blue.

It was much more strenuous than she'd anticipated, and she had
to rest occasionally. Once she stopped for over an hour, eating
her lunch of cheese, crackers, an apple and drinking her
thermos of tea before striking out again.

Near one o'clock, Mandy had almost reached the top crest; she
surveyed her vantage point high above the cabin, and looked
across the narrow gorge. She was on eye-level with the center
of Wilder Mountain.

Mandy scrounged around in the underbrush, making a small
hideaway; she then sat down, unlatched her daypack and took
out binoculars, training them on Wilder Mountain.

She had gazed for almost an hour before a movement caught
her eye; straining to see what was lurking on Wilder Mountain,
she laughed when a black bear poked his head through the limbs
of a spruce tree.

Mandy put her binoculars down, feeling foolish. The sun was
uncomfortably warm and she lay back in the leafy foliage;
overhead, red, yellow and orange leaves danced in sunlight, and
she dreamily enjoyed the interplay of light and color.

At last, about to pack it in, Mandy looked one more time
through the binoculars at Wilder Mountain. She studied the
thickly forested hillsides of spruce and fir, realizing it was
indeed wilderness.

A raven, wheeling and diving above, caught Mandy's attention;
she turned the binoculars upward, smiling at the aerial
acrobatics. Others were farther away; October found the
raven and crow in more evidence here than summer months, she
recalled her father mentioning one time.

Looking back down at Wilder Mountain, she got a glimpse of
something -- a slight snatch of something shiny reflecting in
sunlight. She trained the binoculars tightly on the spot, but
could not get beyond the surface terrain of over-lapping
conifers. Maybe, she thought, it was only creek water glinting
in sunlight?

Nevertheless, her initial feeling of that bright gleam being a
man-made object stayed with her on the hike back to the cabin.
It had almost looked like metal, something shiny which could
give off a glare in sunlight, she thought.

Exhausted, Mandy was eating a light evening meal of hastily
made sandwiches when Stanley phoned. Not wanting to divulge
her hike, she merely chatted and told him she was fine.

However, he mentioned that Daniel Hite was still acting uneasy
about her being at the cabin. She asked, "Should I come
home?"

"No," Stanley replied, "he just said to be sure and not hike in
the forest, especially on Wilder Mountain. There's lots of
black bear around, and other dangerous animals."

Mandy gulped, feeling a pang of guilt for the sneaky escapade
earlier, but remained silent.

Stanley asked, "How about dinner Saturday night?"

"I have a better idea, how about you driving up here early
Saturday morning and we'll go to the Fall Craft Festival in
Newcastle?"

"Sounds interesting...about ten o'clock?"

"Sure, see you then."

Later she had randomly disjointed thoughts: why was Daniel
Hite warning her away from Wilder Mountain? And why had he
been reluctant to loan the cabin? Perhaps he feared she might
sue if hurt? That would be an attorney's pessimistic view, she
thought wryly, but if so why didn't he say that to begin with?

At last Mandy dismissed his behavior, and fell into bed, proud
she'd accomplished the hike; that was one step closer to a
return to the police force!

*  *  *  *

Friday morning Mandy awoke to a gray, rainy day. After
dressing, she built a fire in the small free-standing fireplace.

Sitting before the flickering firelight, Mandy peered up at the
rain-soaked skylight. It was cozy indoors, and she relaxed,
letting her thoughts drift to Keith. He had taken her in a
flurry of unexpected feelings; and yet, she vowed not to allow
his masculine appeal to cloud her mind.

Near noon the phone rang as Mandy was warming tomato soup.
She answered while watching the stove. "Hello?"

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Oh Keith, can you hold on a sec? I need to get something off
the stove."

"Sure."

She hurried to removed the pot of soup, and then resumed,
"Gee, it's rainy today!"

"Guess you're stuck indoors, huh?"

"Yes, and I missed my jog this morning." Mandy sat down on
the nearby wing chair.

"The forecast is for a sunny weekend. Are you still planning on
attending the festival in Newcastle?"

Hesitantly Mandy said, "Yes, I am."

"Maybe I'll see you there?"

Relieved he'd not invited her to go with him, she said
enthusiastically, "I hope so. I'm really looking forward to that
festival."

"Got to run.You take care and maybe I'll see you tomorrow,"
Keith concluded.

She hung up the phone, and prepared her soup, eating and
watching the rain patter against the windows. Undeniably Keith
was interested in her, but she felt reluctant to get involved.
The issue of Stanley hung darkly on the horizon, and Mandy
felt she had to resolve that definitely before allowing Keith to
become part of her life.

That night she fell asleep, hoping to convince Stanley once and
for all that it was over between them.

*  *  *  *

Mandy glanced at Stanley's attire: his wool blazer over silk
shirt and tie seemed too formal, but were a trademark of his
expensive tastes. He whipped the Porsche along the zigzagged
Cliff Road, quietly concentrating on his consummate skill at the
wheel.

She nervously smoothed her brown corduroy pants and vested
sweater, asking, "Are you sure you will enjoy this festival?
It's a little place, lots of hillfolk."

He grinned widely. "Anything I do with you is fun."

She looked out the window at the brightly splashed scenery of
autumn, trees blurring in the speedy passage. "We need to talk
about uh, our relationship."

"Not now, let's just enjoy the day and not worry about past
problems." He snapped on the radio, turning up the volume to
drown out further conversation.

As they headed into Newcastle, Mandy gasped at the
decorative main street: it was lined with festive beribboned
booths, each one jammed full of crafts. A country music band
performed near the river bridge, attracting a crowd.

Stanley drove around the area, locating a parking spot behind
the ancient fortresslike courthouse. As they walked toward
main street, Mandy saw a large assortment of people browsing
and jostling along the sidewalks.

Her spirits lifted, and she breathed in the fresh air, looking up
at crystal-blue skies. "Isn't this a lovely little town?"

Stanley was scanning the faded storefront buildings, his eyes
squinting at the older architecture and over-hanging canopies
lining the well-worn sidewalks. "It's certainly old, I'll give
them that."

His tone of distaste caught her by surprise and she defended,
"Yes, but it's so quaint, don't you think? Like time has stood
still."

"I suppose," Stanley replied dispassionately.

She walked along beside him in silent disapproval; he saw none
of the charm, only the crumbling disrepair, the aging,
diminishing glory of what once had been a haven for
mountaineers when they left their beloved highlands.

Slowing as they got to the first booth, Mandy waved at
Harriet Caudell, saying, "Good to see you!"

Harriet and her sister, Mable, were minding a booth with
sorghum syrup and mountain-made preserves, jellies and jams.

"Honey, you got to sample this sorghum. It's the only thing our
menfolk can do right," Harriet said, laughing. The old men sat
in cane-bottomed rockers, grinning blandly at them, chewing
tobacco.

She introduced Stanley, and then tasted the rich, dark syrup.
"Hmm, good!"

Stanley hung back, not joining in the conversation. Finally
waving off the two Caudell sisters' suggestions she buy more
than one pint of sorghum, they walked on down the street.

He commented dryly, "At this rate, you'll be broke before we
get home."

"It will be money well spent," Mandy quipped tartly.

"You sure know lots of people here," he added, puzzled.
"You've only been here two weeks, and I can't imagine you
meeting so many..."

He hushed as Mandy sauntered over to another booth,
inspecting exquisitely hand-sewn patchwork quilts. "These are
just beautiful! Did you make them?"

An old lady wearing a bonnet, and looking like an old-fashioned
granny in her long cotton dress, said, "Shorely did honey.
They's the onliest talent the Good Lord gived me."

"Well you certainly do have a gift," Mandy complimented her,
moving onward.

Stanley seemed uninterested in the leather goods next to the
quilts, but Mandy politely looked them over. Then they crossed
the street, and she began prowling through a large display of
folkart, oohing and ahhing until finally he pulled her away
rudely.

"Mandy, it's noon! I'm starved, let's eat," he insisted, leading
her to the nearby steakhouse.

Inside, she waved at Estelle Johnson, who was bustling around
trying to serve the crowded cafe. It was a task, and several
extra girls apparently had been hired to help.

Slipping into a booth, she picked up the menu and then saw
Keith directly across the room. He was seated with a pretty
blonde, who had a grasp on his arm and animatedly gestured
with her other hand as she talked and laughed.

Mandy swallowed a lump in her throat and turned to Stanley.
"So, what looks good?"

"A hamburger will do for now. I thought later we might drive
into Winston-Salem and have a nice dinner."

She saw Keith rise and start toward them. Nervously she
sipped her ice water, trying to feign nonchalance. He leaned
down, saying, "Hi Mandy, how're you liking the festival ?"

"Oh it's super, really. I'm just amazed at all the lovely crafts
and talented mountaineers."

Stanley pointedly looked at Keith, their eyes locking in steady
appraisal.

She rushed in, "Stanley Scott, this is Keith Lachlan."

Keith held out a hand; the men shook, but somehow it came off
halfheartedly.

Mandy said, "Keith is with the Sheriff's Department; Stanley
here is the Assistant Prosecutor for Ransom County, Keith."

"Good meeting you counselor," Keith said politely, but his eyes
were veiled.

"Well..." she murmured, unsure how to proceed.

Keith backed away. "Glad you're enjoying our little craft show.
See you around."

He returned to the gorgeous blonde who was looking daggers at
Mandy.

Stanley snapped, "I think I've lost my appetite."

She was furious at his tone. "You are managing to spoil this
whole day for me!"

Contrite, he apologized, "Sorry, but your new friend there
looked anything but friendly."

"Let's just order and eat, okay?" she said flatly.

They did just that, but she kept glancing surreptitiously at
Keith and his blonde companion. Who was she? A girlfriend? It
certainly looked that way from her possessive clutch on Keith's
arm as they left the cafe together.

Later as they browsed through more craft booths, Mandy
mentioned the cry-baby hollow legend to Papa Jess Jackson as
he demonstrated his dulcimer collection. He grinned
indulgently, but one of the customers overheard the
conversation and told her, "Shore, they's haints in that holler."

"Really?" she quizzed, curious.

"Some folks hereabouts thinks they's UFOs landed; they've
seen strange lights up on that wilderness mountain."

"Strange lights?" Mandy asked, intrigued; she had also seen
lights there.

"Yeah, and my old granny told us tales about Imogene and that
baby she kilt. Sad thing, her killing that baby..."

Mandy listened as the old man rambled, but she couldn't help
being perplexed at the coincidence of strange lights reported
on Wilder Mountain.

Stanley failed to see the point of her inquiry, and steered her
away toward the Porsche. "My, my, I didn't know you were the
superstitious type, Mandy."

"I'm not, but you see I..." she stopped short of divulging the
lights she'd glimpsed. He'd never understand; worse, he'd
probably think she was in some kind of danger.

"What?" he asked, pulling out onto main street and heading out
of town with a burst of speed.

She saw Keith and the blonde walking along the sidewalk. He
lifted a hand in a friendly wave; the blonde glared coldly.

"Oh nothing, never mind."

They drove in silence as the afternoon dimmed into twilight. By
dark, Winston-Salem came into view. Mandy dreaded dinner,
because she had to firmly remind him their engagement was off.

However as Stanley whipped the car into a parking lot at the
posh restaurant, she was terribly disturbed about Keith. For
all she knew, maybe the blonde was his fiance!

End Chapter Eight

CHAPTER NINE

Stanley pulled up in front of the cabin, his voice despondent,
"If that is the way you want it, then I'll leave you alone for
the rest of the month."  

"I do, but Stanley...I hope we can always be friends."

He let a bitter laugh escape. "Friends. It beats nothing, I
guess."

Mandy was silent, wishing she'd not had to hurt him so deeply;
but there was no use in prolonging the inevitable.

"You need to take it easy. Don't overdo up here, and... I will
check on you because I still can't help caring," he said more
warmly.

"I know. I appreciate your caring too. We'll always be
friends." She leaned over and gave him a quick hug, then got
out of the car.

Watching him drive away, she was sad but somewhat relieved.
However, a growing uneasiness about Keith Lachlan and his
mysterious blonde companion still plagued her.

Taking a leisurely bath, Mandy soaked in the bubbly water.
She kept seeing Keith with the blonde, and it was an unsettling
picture. Vaguely, she wondered if the green-eyed monster,
jealousy, had hold of her -- but pushed that idea aside. After
all, she didn't have a claim on Keith!

Around midnight, just as she was about to slip into bed, the
distant engine noise intruded again. She ran first to the
bedroom window, looking out to see only darkness in the front
yard.

Then racing down the stairs and up to the empty loft, she
hurriedly sat in the ladderback chair. Taking up her
binoculars, Mandy aimed them at the side of Wilder Mountain.
Sure enough, she saw the unmistakable flicker of tail-lights as
a vehicle climbed higher and higher, sometimes a red flash
obscured by the forest and other times openly in view.

Excitedly, Mandy raised the binoculars higher, but lost sight
of the tail-lights. She now knew it had to be a rugged four-
wheel drive vehicle, for nothing tame could take that steep
mountainside, especially without a road through that wilderness
territory.

At last she went back to bed, but had a restless night, often
awakening to think she'd heard the engine only to find it had
been a dream.

*  *  *  *

Startled awake the next morning by a ringing phone, Mandy
groped for it drowsily. "Hello."

"Sorry to wake you so early."

"What time is it Keith?" She slowly turned to look at the
bedside clock. "Six?"

"Yes, look, I'm sorry to wake you but after seeing you
yesterday I thought maybe I should explain..."

"Please, you owe me no explanations," she said, reluctant to
show her curiosity about his companion.

"Mandy, I..." he paused, his long sigh
clearly.

"You are under no obligation to explain your...uh, your
circumstances."

"But you see I..." his voice lowered, and gruffly continued, "I
need to square things with you."

"Would you like to drop by later so we can discuss this
Keith?"

"Sure, around noon?"

"Fine, see you then."

She hung up the phone, confused but eager to hear what had
him so urgently in need of a meeting.

*  *  *  *

Mandy went on her jog, tidied the cabin and had a small
luncheon of sliced ham, potato salad, buttered French bread
and ice tea waiting when Keith arrived.

He strode inside, a sincere look in his eyes. She again noticed
how the uniform molded to his muscular build, and their eyes
touched, holding in a suspended moment of depth.

Keith said, "You look like a picture of good health."

She felt a blush. "Thanks, but I still have to pace myself."

"That's to be expected."

"How about lunch?"

"Are you sure I won't be imposing?"

"No," she said, gesturing to the dining table where the food
was already laid out and ready. They went to their chairs, sat
down and began eating silently, both seemingly hesitant to
bring up the subject of yesterday's encounter.

Afterward, he paced around the room, saying, "Mandy, the lady
I was with yesterday...well, she's an old friend who just
happened to be in town for the craft festival. I had no idea she
was due in."

"Please," she said, standing, "you don't have to explain."

He walked to her, gently tracing the outline of her face, his
voice husky, "I have to explain because I think you got the
wrong impression."

Mandy was spellbound by his touch, and stared into his clear
gray eyes. "If you must tell me, then first allow me to explain
about Stanley."

He listened patiently, his face reflecting anxiety and
foreboding.

"We were engaged, but I broke it off because...we couldn't
seem to overcome our respective differences."

"Differences?" he asked softly, his hand lingering on her arm,
his eyes curious.

"As you may know, not everyone wants a wife who is a law
enforcement officer." Mandy lowered her eyes to the floor.

"And not every woman wants a husband who is a law
enforcement officer," Keith echoed.

Suddenly she felt him pulling her into his strong arms, and
surrendered to his slow, seeking lips, their kiss blossoming into
a tender awakening. They clung to one another, sharing a
moment of poignant understanding.

At length she pulled away and asked, "So the blonde isn't a
girlfriend?"

"Oh she tried to be. I dated her and it was okay for awhile,
but then I...well, I found out what she really wanted."

Mandy saw deep hurt in his eyes. "What was that?"

"Alicia Vandiver is a real estate land developer. Seems she
thought by getting to me, she'd wind up bargaining for the
fifty acre farm my folks own. Her company was interested in
developing an amusement park here, since we're so close to the
Smokies."

She took his hand, and they walked to the sofa, sitting down
together. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"And I'm sorry about Stanley," he said, holding her hand,
intertwining their fingers. "But are you sure he won't be able
to cope with your profession someday?"

Shaking her head, Mandy said, "No, or at least he never has so
far. I know my getting shot had him so terribly upset for me,
but he didn't handle it well at all. He made matters worse, and
I must consider my career first."

He dropped the subject, and kissed her again. They sat closely,
holding hands. She asked, "Keith what do you know about
rumors of UFOs being sighted on Wilder Mountain?"

He laughed. "That is absurd. The department did get calls
about strange lights up on the mountain, but we can't track
every crackpot call down or..."

He looked at her closely. "But then, you know what I mean,
being a police officer."

And indeed she did, only now Mandy found herself in the
peculiar position of having to sound somewhat offbeat herself.
"What if I told you I saw lights on that mountainside?"

He looked skeptical, but turned serious at seeing her earnest
expression. "When?"

"A couple of nights, and it looked like the tail-lights of a
vehicle."

"Are you sure?" He studied her intently, becoming interested.

"Yes, and I've heard an engine too. Several nights I was
awakened by a distant rumbling sound, and then later saw the
lights from the loft window through binoculars."

"Why haven't you mentioned this before?"

"Because it sounds so weird, and I didn't want to discuss
fanciful ideas...with no concrete proof or facts."

He tucked a wisp of chestnut hair behind her ear. "Hey, I
believe you. What do you think it is?"

"Have no idea, other than someone living up there."

Keith stood and began pacing. "At the department we
sometimes work closely with the Fish and Wildlife Agents.
Lately there's been a lot of poaching, hunters illegally killing
black bear for their gall bladders, which they sell on the
international market for profit."

She jumped to her feet. "Could that be trappers on the
mountain?"

"Maybe, or someone cultivating a crop of marijuana," he
speculated, rubbing his chin.

"What will we do?"

"We?" Keith asked, grinning.

"I did spot them first," Mandy declared.

Keith chuckled. "What a cop you are!"

She jutted her chin out stubbornly. "I am going to help!" 

"Hey," he teased, holding up his hands in defense, "did I say
you couldn't?"

"Okay, what do we do?"

"I'll check at the department, ask around a little and even
contact the Fish and Wildlife Agents, see if they know
anything about this because we wouldn't want to ruin anything
they may be doing undercover. If I draw a blank, maybe you
and I will just take a hike up Wilder Mountain, see exactly
what is going on over there."

She grinned happily. "Great, just let me know when!"

"But first, how would you like to meet my folks tomorrow
night? My mom is the best cook around here."

"I'd love to," Mandy enthused, smiling.

Keith hugged her once more, kissed her tenderly and then left,
saying he had to get back to work. She was in a daze of
wonder; how easily Keith had believed her! He'd instinctively
trusted her vague suspicions and sketchy evidence enough to
believe she might be onto something concrete. Only another
officer could have offered that brand of encouragement -- and
he had done so without reservations.

She glowed inwardly, her heart swelling like a big red balloon.
Keith Lachlan was a man unlike any other she'd ever met, and
she realized it would be easy to fall in love with him.

But could she dare let emotions flow freely, Mandy wondered -
- and especially so soon after Stanley's inability to understand
her career? Even though Keith was in the same field, that was
no guarantee they'd be able to establish a satisfying
relationship. That in itself could present even more
complications!

Mandy gave her head a shake, clearing it of such romantic
notions. After all, she told herself, Keith had not said anything
about love! Of course, he was warm, affectionate, but that still
didn't warrant the many thoughts of a future she was
entertaining.

Resolutely, she vowed not to read more than was necessary into
Keith's actions. And yet, Mandy could still feel the gentleness
of his kiss lingering on her lips...

End Chapter Nine


CHAPTER TEN

Mandy was wearing her one and only dress outfit, the plaid
skirt and white frilly blouse. She wished belatedly for one of
the formal ensembles hanging in her closet back at Albertville;
but then, nothing like tonight's dinner with Keith's parents had
been foreseen.

Nightfall concealed the majestic mountains; Mandy could only
detect silhouettes and shadows, the alpine slopes of pagoda-
like spruce and firs obscured in darkness now as she peered
out the curtainless window.

Since identifying tail-lights that night, Mandy found herself
drawn back repeatedly to the empty loft. She was puzzled
because the chair had obviously been positioned to get the best
view of the exact spot where tail-lights had flickered on the
mountainside -- a fact she found a little too coincidental.

Hearing Keith's Blazer pull up, she hurriedly threw on her red
sweater, and went outside. Standing in the frigid air, she saw
him coming toward the small porch.

"Hi Mandy, ready?"

"Yes, and I'm really looking forward to some of that good
homecooking you promised."

They walked to the Blazer, and she admired his casual tweed
slacks and turtleneck sweater. He told her, "You didn't have to
dress so formally. My folks are sure to be a surprise."

Mandy found that remark a bit intriguing, but said nothing as
they headed north along Cliff Road. Soon Keith was whipping
off onto a dirt road, the dust flying behind them. He pointed
out alongside the roadway. "Fence for our cattle. Pop likes to
make a little cash on the side now, although we used to do more
farming for our income."

"Oh, what crops did you cultivate?"

"Soybeans, corn.. .long ago, a little cotton. Tobacco is a good
crop in this area, but pop wouldn't grow it, said the stuff
killed people." He smiled at her in the dim dashlights. "Have to
agree with him."

The Blazer rounded a bend, and she could make out a two-story
frame dwelling. It was another familiar weathered plank
structure with a corrugated tin roof glinting brightly in the
moonlight.

Keith drove carefully between cedars lining the curved drive,
then stopped. "Here it is...home sweet home."

"It's like a page out of a long past time."

"Mom just won't update the old place. It seems to represent
the past, and I have to warn you, she believes in traditional
values."

Mandy could understand; the whole region kept reminding her
of a dying era, one of family farms and peaceful country life.
"I'm sure I'll love them."

Keith got out, and escorted her to the wide plank porch. A long
wooden swing and several ladderback chairs were facing the
front yard, and she glimpsed a field of pumpkins to one side of
the house.

As they stepped up to the door, he commented, "You should
sleep in a room with a tin roof when it rains, nothing like it in
the world."

"I bet," she said, imagining the staccato symphony of rain on a
metallic roof.

"Ya'll come on in," a man's voice called, and Mandy saw the
screen door being pushed open by an older version of Keith,
the years of exposure to elements having wrinkled his face
with deep furrows.

Walking into the high-ceilinged room, Mandy discovered the
older man was wearing bib-overalls and a faded blue shirt
beneath them. He held out a hand, and she placed hers inside it
for a firm, steady handshake.

"You must be that pretty little gal Keith has been talking
about all the time?"

She felt her face flush, and murmured, "I'm Mandy Stewart."

Mr. Lachlan studied her with clear gray eyes like his son's.
"Yep, you're the one all right."

Keith stepped to the connecting doorway and yelled, "Mom,
we're here!"

"Landsakes, ya'll got here fast!" A tall, slim woman appeared,
wiping her hands on an apron. The cotton checked gingham skirt
and white blouse reminded Mandy of Harriet and Mable
Caudell. Permed gray hair set off an angular-featured face
with dancing blue eyes; she smiled, and crinkles formed near
her eyes and mouth -- laugh lines etched by years of good
humor, Mandy guessed.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lachlan but I hope you haven't gone to
too much trouble for me," she quickly said.

"Why honey, it wasn't no trouble atall! I love to cook, and we
hardly ever get company these days." She walked over to
Mandy, draping an arm around her shoulders. "Come on in the
kitchen, and I'll let you help put the food on the table."

Mandy smiled at Keith; he had been right, his parents were
strictly "country"-- which meant openly friendly and gracious
to everyone.

Mrs. Lachlan led her through the large, wallpapered dining
room where a round wooden table was set with sparkling china
and silverware. "This is beautiful, Mrs. Lachlan," she said.

"I decided you all deserved the good china. Buck hardly ever
wants to eat off it, but I think this is a special occasion. My
oldest, Tommy, bought it for us." Her blue eyes misted. "All my
boys left, 'cept Keith, bless his heart. We're right proud of
him for staying, and wanting to hang onto this old homeplace."

She paused, looking over the steaming dishes of food in the
outdated kitchen. "You can take this and this," she said,
pointing out two bowls of vegetables. "I got this okra and corn
out of my freezer. It was put up this past summer, and really
made a right fine mess off my little garden patch."

Mandy felt her mouth watering from the delicious scents. She
carried the dishes out to the table, and returned to get white
gravy and buttermilk biscuits, then a large platter of pork
chops. "This smells scrumptious!" she exclaimed, putting the
food down.

Keith and his father stood nearby, waiting until they had the
table ready. Mrs. Lachlan came in with a fresh pitcher of tea
and began pouring. "Let's sit down. Buck, you ask the blessing."

After a respectfully voiced reverence for the bounty before
them, knives and forks jangled, glasses and plates clinked and
they all ate heartily.

Keith kept staring curiously at Mandy, and she smiled happily
at him.

Mr. Lachlan ate with gusto, commenting on the pork chops. "We
raise our own pork, and this here's a good sampling, I reckon."

Mandy said graciously, "Yes, this is very tender. Um, Mrs.
Lachlan..."

"Honey, call me Ida."

"And I'm Buck," Keith's father put in quickly.

"Uh, Ida, how do you tenderize these vegetables?" 

"I fry the corn and okra, and the secret is to steam it just a
little, not too much or it'll be soggy."

"It's unlike any I've ever tasted," Mandy said honestly.

Idea beamed proudly, adding, "Course, it's all better when
fresh from the garden. But freezing or canning will preserve it
well enough."

Buck explained, "Worked all summer on that stuff. Ida put up
our whole cellar full of canned preserves, jellies, jams and then
the freezer full of meats and vegetables."

"That must have been lots of work," Mandy stated.

"I like to give the boys things when they visit," Ida said.

Keith swallowed his food and took a drink of tea, then cleared
his throat. "It's work, but mom and pop wouldn't be happy
without the farm. They thrive on it."

Mandy looked from one satisfied face to the other; Keith's
parents were hardworking people, and she could recognize
generations of past mountaineers' legacy shaping their lives.
The fierce independent spirit, doing with what they had, the
ability to triumph over natural forces -- it all spelled out the
heritage she'd witnessed ever since entering Cavalier County.

Afterward, Ida took Mandy upstairs and showed her some
patchwork quilts she was sewing by hand using a special frame
that dangled from the ceiling. Mandy learned Ida made quilts
during winter months for relaxation and to "keep her hands
busy."

Mandy asked, "Do you think you could teach me to quilt?"

"Oh gracious me, sure I could honey. It's not hard to learn,
just takes devotion and patience. Course, all my quilts are for
the boys' Christmas and birthdays. I never sell, or show
piecework for the public."

Mandy nodded quiet approval; she was eager to try quilting and
accepted Ida's offer to teach her someday if time permitted.

Later they all enjoyed coffee and a tasty apple pie made from
apples in their orchard. It was topped off by laughter and
congenial conversation.

Buck insisted on showing Mandy their handcrafted furniture,
pointing out each piece made by his ancestors. Some of it was
almost crude, the rough-hewn dining table, chairs and hutch,
for instance, made by one of his great-great-grandfathers who
carved it all out of a giant magnolia tree. Each rare item
represented hours and hours of tedious labor, which made it all
the more treasured.

At last it was time to leave, and Mandy told them sincerely,
"It has really been wonderful meeting you two."

"Well Keith sure was right about you," Buck said, winking.
"You're a pretty little thing, and brave too, being a police
lady."

Ida intervened, "Son you bring her back again and we'll have
some chicken dumplings you like so much."

As they drove back along Cliff Road, she said, "Whew! I'd get
fat if I lived there."

"Sometimes I have to resist all that temptation myself," he
agreed, laughing.

"No kidding, your parents are really super." Mandy had been
aware of the contrast between the Lachlans and Scotts --
Stanley's parents were nice, but more oriented to social
climbing than simple living.

"Thanks, we're just country folk." Keith paused, looking
steadily at the road. "What about your parents?"

She felt a crushing desolation because he would never know
them, and sadly told him about Bobby and her father and
mother, ending with, "So you can see why I want to prove
myself a good officer."

"I think you've already done that," he said, glancing at her
sideways. "Few officers could get shot and still be dedicated
to the job."

"Thanks," she replied, accepting his praise eagerly.

The highway wound around the curvy mountainous terrain, and
Mandy sat silently as Keith drove. At length she asked, "Have
you learned anything about Wilder Mountain?"

"Nothing so far. We're checking, but it will take some time to
find out of the Fish and Wildlife Agents are working in the
area, or planning to."

Mandy sighed. "I guess we'll just have to be patient."

"Yes, we will," Keith said, pulling off to get gas at Caudell's
store.

As he slid out, Mandy turned toward the highway; she was
thinking about those tail-lights on Wilder Mountain, wondering
if they'd ever learn about them.

Keith pumped gas, and Mandy glanced at him, then back to the
highway where a truck was coming up the hill, the headlights
almost blinding her. She saw with growing excitement it was
the same Silverado pickup she'd been suspicious of in early
October.

Jumping from the seat, she said to Keith, "That's the truck I
told you about!"

Keith glanced at the highway just in time to see it disappearing
around the bend, lost to sight. He hurriedly paid for the gas,
and leaped inside, starting the Blazer and whipping onto Cliff
Road, heading speedily north in the direction of the Silverado
pickup.

End Chapter Ten


CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Are you sure that was it?" Keith asked, pressing harder on
the accelerator.

Mandy nodded vigorously. "Yes, it still had mud all over it, and
the camouflage coloring was just too similar to be coincidence!"

"Lots of hunters go to the expense of camouflage equipment."

She watched the highway avidly, peering anxiously for a
glimpse of the truck ahead. "I know it has to be the same one!"

Suddenly they rounded a sharp curve, and Keith let up on the
gas, slowing. "There it is, see the tail-lights?" 

Mandy saw the dim red flicker, and then watched as they
slowly gained on the vehicle. "Yes that's it!"

"Are you sure?"

"See the gun rack in the back window? The metal roll bar, and
those dents near the left top? I saw those that day, and
wondered what made that peculiar indentation."

Keith was now trailing the vehicle at close range, but being
careful not to tailgate. "That could have been done by
anything, but if it's used for backcountry travel, a low, heavy
tree limb could have dented the cab."

The truck ahead was steadily climbing toward Bluffpark Point,
the gears shifting as it gained altitude; Mandy kept a vigilant
watch on it.

Keith lamented, "Technically, since the tag isn't clear, I could
stop him -- except I'm not on duty..."

"And it's unethical to do so off duty," she finished for him.

"Right."

"It looks like only a man in there tonight," she said, absorbed
in the pursuit.

"Yes it does." Keith trailed at a safe distance, still trying to
discern the tag numbers.

Mandy noted, "It's a North Carolina tag, but I can't make out
the numbers. Hey! He's really speeding up now!"

Keith hung back, worried he'd attract unwanted attention if
they continued to dog the truck too closely.

"He's getting away!" Mandy proclaimed as they lost sight of
the truck in a snaky downhill passage.

"No, he's not. Let him get a little ahead, not stick right on his
bumper."

As the highway dipped down to a low valley, she once again
caught sight of the pickup; it was making a left turn.

Keith slowed, put on his blinker and hung back. When the truck
was gone, he pulled off and read the sign aloud, "Shadow Valley
Road."

"Where does this go?"

"Around the edge of the mountain range that is situated just
behind Wilder and Big Blue Mountains."

"Really?"

"Yes, it's similar to Cliff Road, but it looks like he's going
back south. These mountain ranges divide a lot of territory;
it's miles and miles of highway, but in fact, only a short
distance through the mountains. Of course, the highways follow
valleys and foothills for better navigation."

He pulled onto the two-lane threadlike macadam and floored
the Blazer; they roared along the flat highway, gaining fast on
the Silverado.

Without the slightest warning, the Silverado suddenly dashed
across the left lane, and off the highway into thick brush.
Rough, uneven ground jostled it up and down like a toy, but the
pickup took the punishment.

Keith pulled off, swearing under his breath at the unexpected
move.

"Can't we follow?" Mandy implored as she continued to stare
at the high brush and rugged, ditch-ridden stretch leading into
woods.

"Not in this Blazer; it's not equipped for anything but a
reasonably cleared trail, or bad roads. I can't risk tearing the
under-carriage out on those deep ditches," he said dismally,
watching the highly elevated Silverado eat up uneven terrain,
swallowing footage as it wound through the brush and
disappeared into dense woodland.

"He must know the area to just take off like that into woods?"

"If I'm not mistaken, there's an old logging road back there
somewhere that leads up to Hollow and Piney Point Mountains. I
guess that's where he's headed; he may live up there
somewhere."

She shrugged. "We gave it our best try though."

Keith reached over and touched her hand. "That we did,
partner!"

As they swung around and headed back along Shadow Valley
Road, Mandy pondered, "Will you report this?"

"Sure. I'll relay the info on the Silverado to other officers,
and we'll check it out if he stays in the area," Keith said.

Back at the cabin, he walked her to the door. He refused her
offer to come inside, saying it was late and he had to work the
next day.

The night wind was cold, and Mandy pulled her sweater close as
Keith wrapped her in his arms, tipping her face up for a tender
kiss.

"You really keep me on my toes!"

She grinned mischievously. "Is that a compliment?"

"Yep. Since I've met you, I'm amazed at how much your
inquisitive nature compliments our professional careers."

"We do think alike."

He held her away from him, looking into her upturned face.
"I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

"Thanks but I need some time alone now, just to keep working
on my stamina, and building strength in case we do take that
hike up Wilder Mountain.

"Sure thing, I understand. And soon as I learn something about
that, I'll give you a call."

"Good. Well it was a pleasure meeting your parents; they are
super," Mandy said sincerely.

"You take care now. If you need me, just call," he advised.

Keith kissed her again, and then strode back to the Blazer.
Gravel crunched as the vehicle slipped away down the dark
roadway.

Mandy watched it out of sight and wondered if she could quell
the romantic feelings he had stirred up.

*  *  *  *

Having taken a bath, Mandy was drinking a glass of warm milk
when the phone rang. She pulled it to her, answering, "Hello."

"Where have you been!"

"Stanley, I thought we had an understanding about..."

"Look, I had to get in touch with you. Daniel Hite is driving up
there tomorrow and I thought you'd want to know."

"He's coming here? Why?"

"I don't know, something about making sure you have all the
essentials, checking odds and ends..."

"Didn't you tell him I was managing fine?" she asked, stunned
Hite would be put out enough to drive all the way to Cavalier
County.

"I did, but he insisted. Frankly, it doesn't make sense to me
and I think he is acting ridiculous." He paused and she heard
him sigh deeply. "Daniel's been off-balance ever since I told
him you were there. It's not like him to be so concerned for
anyone. He's a real cold fish, never has struck me as the kind
of man to care much for others."

"Do you think he's afraid I might get hurt or something, and
since it's his property, sue him?"

"As an attorney, he would have more reservations than most
people would have. Yes, it could be his reasoning, I suppose."

"Stanley, I appreciate you calling and preparing me."

"He says he'll be up there around ten tomorrow, so you can
plan on it."

"I will, and thanks again," she said. 

"Miranda, are you feeling okay?" 

She knew he was dying to ask where she'd been, so she said,
"Yes, I was just out with Keith. We had a meal at his parents'
home."

"You two are becoming quite a couple." 

"Stanley I've got to go."

"I'm sorry, but even though I'm not crazy about that man, at
least he's there looking after you." 

She sighed with exasperation; it was just like him to be overly
solicitous, regardless of his natural jealousy toward Keith.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'm managing just fine by
myself."

"Well take care of yourself and..."

"Goodnight Stanley," she said bluntly.

Mandy hung up the phone, and went to sip her milk. Why would
Hite be so persistent in his attempts to ensure her well-being?
It just didn't seem right, and again she thought his behavior
inappropriate.

Slipping into bed, Mandy vowed to probe Mr. Hite's intentions
tomorrow, and see exactly why he was against her stay here. If
it was simply a case of him not wanting to lend the cabin, she'd
be forced to pack and go home. And yet, she felt that wasn't
his aim -- it was something more covert.

And that did worry Mandy.

End Chapter Eleven


CHAPTER TWELVE

Mandy spent the entire morning cleaning house. Normally not
one to keep things spick-and-span, she felt obligated to
present a spotless cabin when Daniel Hite arrived.

Around eleven, she heard a car coming up the lane and opened
the door; a Cadillac Seville emerged from the tree-canopied
drive. Mandy stepped out into the sunny day, shading her eyes
against the glare off the Cadillac windshield.

Absently smoothing her corduroy pants and sweater, she
watched Hite get out of his car. A short, rotund man, he was
attired in a three-piece, custom-tailored suit; his balding head
shone in the sun, and he removed dark sunglasses as he walked
to the small porch.

She called, "Mr. Hite, I hope you had a pleasant drive."

He stepped onto the porch, smiling a wide smile, sharp, small
teeth revealed. His heavy jowls relaxed slowly, his moon-face
becoming serious; he rubbed his meaty hands together. "Yes,
young lady it was delightful. Autumn in the mountains is nothing
short of miraculous."

"Very true," she agreed, gesturing toward the door. "Won't
you come in." Her hand fell to her side. "I feel strange inviting
you into your own cabin."

Hite gave an exaggerated smile, walking briskly into the cabin.
"You certainly have everything sparkling clean in here," he
said, inspecting the interior quickly.

"Thank you, I have tried to keep it tidy." Mandy joined him,
then asked, "Would you like some lunch, tea, a cup of coffee?"

"Coffee would be fine. I had lunch down the road at the
steakhouse." He walked casually to the stairs leading up into
the vacant loft. "Have you discovered my little retreat?"

She stopped at the kitchen archway. "You mean the empty
chair and curtainless window?"

He pivoted away from the stairs, piercing in his direct,
unflinching stare. "So you have found it?"

"I couldn't help noticing how beautiful the mountains are from
that extraordinary perspective," Mandy answered, unable to
hold his steady gaze.

"Yes, that is why I left that loft vacant, and why I put the
chair there. You see, I had planned on dabbling with my oil
painting, and the mountains are so lovely from that window."
Daniel turned and went up the stairs, walking across the loft.

Mandy went to prepare the coffee and heard floorboards
creaking as he walked around the loft. She felt wary; why
would that loft be his first destination, almost as though he
found it necessary to explain the window and chair?

She thought his jovial demeanor to be a front; she'd seen him in
courtroom action, and he was ruthless, coldblooded. Of course,
that was what made him an outstanding lawyer --
dispassionately objective but calculating on his clients' behalf.

At last she joined Daniel, setting two cups on the antique trunk
between the sofa and armchairs. Pouring the coffee, she asked,
"Sugar, cream?"

"No, I take it black." He sipped the coffee, crossed his legs
and sat back on the sofa. "I'm sure you may be wondering why
I drove up here?"

"Well yes, but if you want the cabin now I can always pack
and leave. I never meant to put you out. It was only at the
suggestion of Stanley that I even came here."

"But you are enjoying your stay?" he quizzed, bulging brown
eyes upon her.

"Oh yes, and my health has really improved. This mountain air
does wonders for me."

Daniel set his cup down. "Everyone in Albertville is very proud
of you. As an officer, you performed magnificently in the line
of duty. Citizens can be assured you are capable and not
afraid to put your life on the line to enforce our laws."

"Thank you," she murmured, surprised by his open praise.

"Furthermore, I'm honored you would choose this cabin as a
retreat to restore your health. I certainly have no objections
to you staying here but..."

Uh oh, Mandy thought, here it comes!

He looked at her thoughtfully. "But young lady, I would feel
dreadful if you got yourself hurt again walking through the
woods, more specifically, up on Wilder Mountain."

"Oh, I'm an experienced hiker and..."

He stood abruptly, and advanced to her. "I must insist you not
be wandering around on that mountain! A person could be killed
by wild animals there."

Now Mandy felt she was seeing the real Daniel Hite; the glint
of cold fury in his brown eyes was disquieting. She stammered,
"Uh, if you insist, I won't go there."

He backed off, smiling that fake smile that never touched his
cold brown eyes. "Good. I don't mean to be so forbidding, but
my dear, that is off-limits."

"Yes, I understand that; Stanley relayed your messages."

He began pacing, looking closely at the mixture of antique
relics, touching a small restored trunk, tracing a finger over
the dried flower arrangement, then the wicker baskets. "I
hired a special designer for this barn. He did an excellent job,
don't you think?"

"Oh yes, it's uniquely enchanting."

Suddenly he lowered his eyes to the floor, giving him a veiled,
sinister look. "Ms. Stewart, this barn was once thought to be
haunted by the local hillfolk. The cry-baby hollow legend had
it that Imogene MacGregory brought her baby here before
drowning it in Rush Creek."

"I've learned about the legend, and heard the crying..."

"Ah, so you have been in the woods?"

"Only at the base of Big Blue near Rush Creek late one
afternoon; that's when I heard the baby crying."

"I see. Well, what did you think?" he queried, fixing her with
that unsettling stare again.

"It was eerie, almost chilling. I haven't been too eager to go
back to that creek," Mandy lied easily. She had begun to doubt
that Hite was being honest with her, and two could play that
game.

He smiled his deceptive smile. "Yes, it is very disturbing, but
then I'm sure there is a realistic explanation for that sound.
Perhaps tree limbs scraping or the wind off Big Blue."

"I just wouldn't want to be in those woods after dark," Mandy
pronounced, shuddering dramatically.

Daniel seemed to relax. "It could be frightening, I'm sure."

She asked politely, "More coffee?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I thought I'd just check a few things
around here and then head back to Albertville."

"Is there anything I can help with?"

He looked alarmed. "My dear, aren't you supposed to be
recuperating from surgery?"

Feigning sudden weakness, Mandy said, "Yes and I must confess
I'm just not up to par yet."

"You just rest and I'll go out and check a few things, like the
fuse box. Then walk around the grounds and such."

He adjusted his jacket and went out the back door, walking
swiftly across the patio.

Mandy hurried up the stairs to the empty loft; she ran to the
window in time to see Hite going across the small back yard
into a stand of maples. The leaves had recently thinned enough
for her to see him moving farther away, across the field, into
the edge of woods that bordered the base of Wilder Mountain.

Wondering why he would tramp into the wooded terrain,
especially in an expensive suit, Mandy felt building anxiety.
His behavior sent a red alarm to every nerve in her body. All
the years in law enforcement had prepared her to recognize
deceptive actions, and Daniel Hite was definitely not being on
the level with her.

Squelching her rising desire to track after him, she sat there
until she saw him returning. At once she hurried back to the
sofa, and when he came in, asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Oh sure, I just wanted to make certain you didn't shoot a fuse
out here. It would be terribly frightening in the dark, but
there are a few lanterns in the kitchen cabinets, in case of a
thunderstorm." He bent to pick trash off his pants and shoes.

"Thanks for your concern," Mandy said, aware it was the most
flimsy excuse she'd ever heard in her life. He must think I'm
an idiot, she mused.

Daniel sat down and rested. His eyes were moist; he was
seemingly tired and exhausted from the short trek. He made
friendly conversation, or at least attempted to. Mandy found
him, in the words of Stanley, "a cold fish."

Again she recalled Hite's courtroom performance and somehow
found him ill at ease now, almost as if his whole life was a
performance, nothing spontaneous or warm; on the contrary,
calculated and stiff.

Finally he stood, saying, "I must be getting back. My sister is
expecting me for dinner tonight."

Mandy stood too. "Mr. Hite, I want you to know I will leave if
you are in need of the cabin. On the other hand, I have really
enjoyed my stay, and appreciate you lending me this beautiful
place for my recuperation."

"Ah my dear, it is my pleasure to have someone so lovely and
brave here. You stay as long as you wish."

As they walked outside, she said, "I have to return to work the
first of November, so I'll be leaving soon -- probably near the
end of October."

He smiled that icy smile. "Well, you just be sure not to tackle
Wilder Mountain, because you need to be careful of your
surgery incision." He pinned her in that dark stare. "We'd hate
to lose such a valuable officer."

With a fearful shudder, she watched him get in the Cadillac.
His words had sounded more like a menacing threat than a
simple statement of concern. Something about the man was
definitely off-center; his behavior suggested several things to
Mandy, and she went back into the cabin pondering his
idiosyncrasy.

End Chapter Twelve



CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mandy spent the remainder of the afternoon outside; she
retraced Hite's steps, trying to discern exactly where he'd
gone. But since the ground was covered with freshly fallen
leaves, their elasticity obliterated any footprints. By dusk she
was standing near the first slope into dense woods on Wilder
Mountain.

Pulling her fleece-lined bomber jacket tight, she stared at the
lofty mountainpeak. Wilder Mountain was ominously silent,
stoic in deepening twilight. It held a mystery Mandy was now
determined to solve if it was the last thing she ever did.

She squatted on the ground, letting a hand plunder the damp
foliage. If only the leaves were dry and brittle, she might
detect an indication of where Hite had been. Futilely, she let
the leaves fall through her fingers.

Just as Mandy turned toward the cabin, a shrill cry echoed
through the gorge; she felt goose pimples spread over her skin.
It was a shrieking cry, similar to that heard near Rush Creek
at the base of Big Blue.

Paralyzed, she stood listening. The sound strengthened; now she
could hear a baby's cry -- and decided there was no way tree
limbs could imitate that unmistakable timbre. Then it shifted
to sobbing, then sniffles, mingling to become several babies,
not just one.

Mandy looked upward, seeing the wind rustling down through
high mountain conifers; it was wind sweeping straight off
Wilder Mountain. The sound she was hearing so directly, so
vividly was from that mountainside where she'd glimpsed the
tail-lights.

Standing motionless, she realized Daniel Hite had come to this
spot. Why? What was so important that he had to get out
here?

The sound now changed dramatically; Mandy could hear a soft-
toned woman's voice -- cajoling, crooning, then singing a
lullaby. The babies were pacified, the sound slowly ebbing and
then quietening.

She stamped her feet, shaking out the cold numbness. A wind
was still showering leaves off trees, but the noises were of the
woodland now: an owl hooted, a bird screeched, and that
roaring echo of the wind traveled down the mountainside. No
more baby cries.

Striding back to the cabin, Mandy was perplexed but
confident that something unusual was going on up there on
Wilder Mountain.

She entered the door just as the phone started ringing.
Struggling to control her hard breathing, she finally answered.

"We got some info on the Fish and Wildlife Agents."

"What Keith?"

"Apparently they aren't involved in any kind of undercover
assignment on Wilder Mountain...so, that leaves it wide open
for us to investigate."

Mandy sank down wearily in the wing chair, kicking off her
shoes. "Whew, I'm beat!"

"What have you been up to now?" Keith teased, chuckling
softly.

"Daniel Hite...he came for a visit and really got me curious
about his odd behavior," Mandy began, elaborating on her
speculations, concluding, "So, as I heard that sound coming
directly off Wilder Mountain, I just knew there had to be
something up there causing the sound, and not a ghost either!"

Keith was intrigued and asked, "When do you feel like you'd be
up to a hike?"

"Maybe next weekend..."

"Hey, that would be great. I have next weekend off, and it
might turn into an overnight backpack trip."

She curled up in the chair, hugging her knees against her chest.
"Let me pace myself over the next few days, and we'll discuss
details. I need you to bring most of the stuff. All I have is a
daypack and boots, no rugged equipment."

"No problem. I'll supply both of us," Keith said, and then
added, "By the way, you do know there are bobcats and black
bear up there?"

Mandy sighed audibly. "I have been warned, yes."

"And you still want to tackle it?"

"I'm determined to find out what is going on up there if it kills
me!"

Keith teased, "Hey, let's not tempt bad luck! Anyway, I'll get a
few essentials together during the week."

"We'll need some dry goods."

"Don't worry, I'll be collecting things all week." He hesitated,
then said, "Mandy there's something I need to discuss with
you."

"Any time..."

"Not now, later. It's about my position here with the Sheriff's
Department."

"Oh?"

He let the silence grow, finally saying, "Not now, but later I'll
try to explain."

Afterward, soaking in a bubble bath, she racked her brain as
to his meaning. What now? Did she have to decipher this man’s
motives as well as the mysterious happenings up on Wilder
Mountain?

When Mandy finally closed her eyes, a disturbing thought
popped into her mind: what if Keith's news about the Sheriff's
Department was connected somehow to the mystery up on
Wilder Mountain?

Sternly lecturing herself that unfounded fancy was entering
her thoughts instead of sound logic, she firmly put that
preposterous idea out of her mind, falling into the relief of
dreamless sleep.

*  *  *  *

Wednesday, Thursday and Friday Mandy diligently worked on
strengthening herself for the hike. She jogged each morning,
going farther each time and making two miles by Friday. She
worked out with low-impact aerobi