Ethel settles back in her chair, clearly delighted to have a captive audience. “Did I ever tell you about the time I got lost in that terrible blizzard? Must’ve been fifteen years ago, when these old legs could still carry me up hiking trails.”
I shake my head, accepting a cookie that’s still warm from the oven.
“I was such a fool. Thought the storm wouldn’t hit until evening, but the mountain had other ideas. One minute I could see clear to the valley, the next I was in a whiteout so thick I couldn’t see my own hand.” She shudders at the memory. “Thought for sure I wouldn’t be found until spring thaw.”
“What happened?”
Ethel’s voice drops to a reverent whisper. “A shadow came. Something massive with too many legs to count. I was terrified at first, thought it was Death himself coming to collect me.”
My pulse quickens. “But it wasn’t?”
“No, child. Whatever it was, it never came close enough for me to see clearly. But it laid down a path—a glowing silk trail right through the snow. Like a runway of stars leading me home.” Her eyes mist over. “I followed that path for nearly two miles, andit led me straight to the main road. I always figured it was my guardian angel.”
I swallow hard. “Or a guardian spider.”
Ethel’s eyes sharpen. “You know something about this?”
“I might,” I admit. “Did this guardian ever speak to you?”
“Not a word. But I knew it was watching, making sure I made it home. I felt it.” She reaches across the table to pat my hand. “That’s the kind of man you want, June. The kind who helps without asking for thanks.”
I nearly choke on my cookie when she adds with a wicked grin, “Also, the kind with enough legs to really keep a woman stable, if you know what I mean.”
“Ethel!” My face burns hotter than Veronica’s fire breath.
She cackles and stands up, moving to her cookie jar. “Oh, don’t play innocent with me, missy. I see that scarf, and I know you certainly aren’t the kind to get yourself something nice like that.”
My hand flies to Riven’s scarf automatically. Busted by an octogenarian.
Ethel packs a container with cookies, still chuckling. “Take these to that tall, dark, and leggy fellow up the mountain. Man needs to keep his strength up if he’s courting a spitfire like you.”
I accept the container, knowing better than to deny anything. “You’re terrible.”
“I’m observant,” she corrects, walking me to the door. “So whatever’s got you worried about that mountain, just be careful up there. Sometimes when something seems dangerous, it’s just protecting what matters to it.”
I’m still blushing as I drive away, Ethel’s cookies filling my truck with the scent of chocolate and cinnamon. Two character witnesses down, one to go. And the most important one at that.
Finding Gus Thornfield is neverguaranteed. Some days he leaves a small stack of stones by his drop point to indicate he’s around; other days the area is empty, meaning hide the package well in the hollow log and move on.
Today, I’m relieved to see not only the stack of stones but Gus himself, waiting patiently in the clearing. His massive form is somehow less intimidating in daylight, though no less impressive.
“June Hartwell,” he rumbles as I approach with his package. “You deliver early.”
“I had questions that couldn’t wait.” I hand him his delivery, a book on meteoritics and a well-wrapped pastry box from Merry’s. “And I won’t waste your time beating around the bush.Do you know what’s causing trouble on this mountain, Gus? And… is there any chance it could be Riven?”
To my complete surprise, Gus laughs, the sound scattering nearby birds from their perches. It’s so unexpected that I take a step back.
“The Vyder?” He shakes his massive head. “You humor me, June Hartwell.”
“I’m serious,” I insist. “There are claw marks above where that slide happened. Someone deliberately caused it.”
Gus’s amusement fades, replaced by something more solemn. “Not Riven.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He gestures for me to sit on a nearby fallen log, which I do. Gus remains standing, his massive form casting a shadow over me.
“Riven is the reason I felt safe to settle here,” he says simply. “When I first arrived, others tried to establish dominance. Drive me out.” His large hand gestures expansively at the forest. “Territorial disputes. Ugly business.”
