Isabelle shivered. She was about to give up and turn away when a blur on the edge of the tree line caught her eye. Something crouched in the murk. As she watched, it lifted its head toward the cabin as if sampling the air. It hesitated for a moment, then slunk into the underbrush and melted away. From what she could make out it looked like a small wolf or a wildcat. Whatever it was, it moved like a predator and was bold enough to come right up to a human dwelling.
A wavering, reedy howl echoed close by in the darkness and was answered by a distant chorus from the hills beyond. A chill ran through her. It was wilderness out there, and she was miles from civilization. She had best remember that and hope the thaw came soon. She had to get out of here and find the missing pieces of her life. The questions were mounting and the answers were few…and selective.
Chapter Six
Isabelle was curled up on the sofa when Ren came back. Frankenstein lay open on her lap and Ren’s shirt was pillowed under her head. The quiet click of the door jerked her out of her fire-gazing stupor. She sat upright, groggy and disheveled. Ren appeared at her side and reached out to touch her shoulder. The night air clung to her clothes.
“Hey. Why are you sleeping out here? Is the bedroom too cold? I can put a heater—”
“There was an animal at the window,” Isabelle said. Ren’s hand stilled.
“An animal?”
“Yes. It ran off when it saw me.” Isabelle felt awkward. What if Ren asked more questions and she had to admit she was snooping in her room…sucking on her clothes and acting weird.
“Just nosy, I suppose.”
“Huh?” Isabelle started with guilt.
“The animal. Just being nosy. Lots of deer and elk come close. They’re curious by nature, probably hoping to sniff out dinner in my garden,” Ren said. “Under all that snow I’ve got some very tasty rosebushes.”
“It had teeth. Big pointy ones. Elk and deer don’t have pointy teeth.”
“Oh?” Ren hesitated, as if unsure what to say to that.
“It ran away when it saw me.”
“Ah. Okay.” She seemed satisfied with this. “I’ll check for tracks in the morning.”
Isabelle shuffled upright, and Ren perched on the edge of the couch beside her and began to unlace her boots.
“Why won’t you answer my questions?” Isabelle jumped right into the subject that had been burning her up all evening. She had to know.
“What makes you think I know all the answers?”
“Stop playing with me. You said you didn’t want me to go home. You said it wasn’t safe.” You said I had to stay here with you .
“I’m not playing with you. Look at your face. Some of those injuries go way back. Beyond the car crash.”
Isabelle touched her bruised face. It was true. She had seen her broken nose and the scar on her lip and knew they were old wounds. She’d even recalled the whining voice begging for forgiveness.
“Your arm’s been broken before, too,” Ren said, then shifted uncomfortably. “Isabelle. Your husband beat you and you started a divorce,” she stated bluntly. “You came to Canada to get away from it all.”
“I came here from Portland, didn’t I?” Isabelle remembered the map lying open on Ren’s suitcase. Ren looked surprised but nodded in reluctant agreement.
“So I’m married? How long was I married?”
“A year maybe. Not long. You knew you’d made a mistake pretty quick.” The answer was brusque, and Isabelle surveyed Ren carefully. Ren was uncomfortable with the conversation. She pulled hard on her laces and kicked off her boots.
“How do we know each other?” Isabelle tried another approach. “Where did we meet? Here or in Portland?”
This was the most information she’d gotten out of Ren and she was anxious for the flow to continue, but already she could see the defensive shutters coming down. Ren was building another wall of shadows between them. Her gaze shifted around the room, she seemed unable to look at Isabelle. She
A wavering, reedy howl echoed close by in the darkness and was answered by a distant chorus from the hills beyond. A chill ran through her. It was wilderness out there, and she was miles from civilization. She had best remember that and hope the thaw came soon. She had to get out of here and find the missing pieces of her life. The questions were mounting and the answers were few…and selective.
Chapter Six
Isabelle was curled up on the sofa when Ren came back. Frankenstein lay open on her lap and Ren’s shirt was pillowed under her head. The quiet click of the door jerked her out of her fire-gazing stupor. She sat upright, groggy and disheveled. Ren appeared at her side and reached out to touch her shoulder. The night air clung to her clothes.
“Hey. Why are you sleeping out here? Is the bedroom too cold? I can put a heater—”
“There was an animal at the window,” Isabelle said. Ren’s hand stilled.
“An animal?”
“Yes. It ran off when it saw me.” Isabelle felt awkward. What if Ren asked more questions and she had to admit she was snooping in her room…sucking on her clothes and acting weird.
“Just nosy, I suppose.”
“Huh?” Isabelle started with guilt.
“The animal. Just being nosy. Lots of deer and elk come close. They’re curious by nature, probably hoping to sniff out dinner in my garden,” Ren said. “Under all that snow I’ve got some very tasty rosebushes.”
“It had teeth. Big pointy ones. Elk and deer don’t have pointy teeth.”
“Oh?” Ren hesitated, as if unsure what to say to that.
“It ran away when it saw me.”
“Ah. Okay.” She seemed satisfied with this. “I’ll check for tracks in the morning.”
Isabelle shuffled upright, and Ren perched on the edge of the couch beside her and began to unlace her boots.
“Why won’t you answer my questions?” Isabelle jumped right into the subject that had been burning her up all evening. She had to know.
“What makes you think I know all the answers?”
“Stop playing with me. You said you didn’t want me to go home. You said it wasn’t safe.” You said I had to stay here with you .
“I’m not playing with you. Look at your face. Some of those injuries go way back. Beyond the car crash.”
Isabelle touched her bruised face. It was true. She had seen her broken nose and the scar on her lip and knew they were old wounds. She’d even recalled the whining voice begging for forgiveness.
“Your arm’s been broken before, too,” Ren said, then shifted uncomfortably. “Isabelle. Your husband beat you and you started a divorce,” she stated bluntly. “You came to Canada to get away from it all.”
“I came here from Portland, didn’t I?” Isabelle remembered the map lying open on Ren’s suitcase. Ren looked surprised but nodded in reluctant agreement.
“So I’m married? How long was I married?”
“A year maybe. Not long. You knew you’d made a mistake pretty quick.” The answer was brusque, and Isabelle surveyed Ren carefully. Ren was uncomfortable with the conversation. She pulled hard on her laces and kicked off her boots.
“How do we know each other?” Isabelle tried another approach. “Where did we meet? Here or in Portland?”
This was the most information she’d gotten out of Ren and she was anxious for the flow to continue, but already she could see the defensive shutters coming down. Ren was building another wall of shadows between them. Her gaze shifted around the room, she seemed unable to look at Isabelle. She
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