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Dalton lowers a hand to Storm’s head. “Careful.”
That’s the command for her to be on guard against potential threats. We trust she’ll let us know if we aren’t alone out here.
We keep going, slower now, and Dalton frees Storm from tracking so she can focus on the environment. He follows the trail, which even I can make out, as a path cut through the dense forest. We’ve gone maybe fifty paces when he stops. He pivots, so slowly that I raise my bear spray as I check the wind direction. He catches my movement and shakes his head. Not the bear. Something else.
Dalton stands there, head tilting. I peer into the woods, but I don’t see what he does. He backs up to me and lowers his lips to my ear and then points as he whispers, “Look carefully.”
I look. I blink. I look some more. Nothing.
When I arch my brow at him, he grins. Then he prods me two steps in that direction.
“Now?” he whispers.
I can only shake my head. I presume it’s an animal, but it’s too well camouflaged for my amateur forest-vision. Dalton takes me another step. And then I see it. Or I think I do.
It’s not an animal. I’m… not sure what it is. It’s like looking at an optical illusion. Or one of those hidden picture puzzles, where you finally detect something that doesn’t quite match the background.
Dalton takes my hand in his, his fingers warm. He gives Storm the command to wait. Then he leads me off to the side and ducks under thick vines draped between trees. We continue for five more steps as we approach…
A cabin.
Or that’s what my brain concludes as the only possible answer for what I’m seeing, though part of it still insists I’m mistaken. Yes, it’s a structure, but it seems almost otherworldly. Like something out of a fairy tale. A couple and their dog go into the forest one day, following a trail, and it leads them to a magical little house, inhabited by fairies or a forest witch.
The structure is no more than ten feet away, and yet I think I could walk right past and not see it. Yesterday, we’d found that camouflaged mining tent. Compared to this, that was a novice effort. This is a master class. Not simply a well-camouflaged house butart.
I have no idea what the base material is. Wood, I presume. I can’t see that. Instead, I see what looks like a combination of actual greenery—branches and boughs and vines—with painted greenery underneath. The painting—if I’m interpreting correctly—uses stretched hides as a canvas.
I can’t tell the shape of the building because of how well it blends, but there seem to be soft angles and curves, making it even more natural. There are windows, too, or vaguely rectangular shapes that I presume are windows, with closed shutters, also painted.
That’s when I see an Arctic hare, peeking from under a bough. It isn’t a real hare—it’s painted on, almost invisible among the rest, a hidden picture within a hidden picture. Once I’ve seen that, I see others, forest creatures both painted on and woven from twigs.
“I want a house like this,” I whisper to Dalton. “Can you make me one? Please?”
“Can’t paint for shit. You okay with stick figures?”
I punch his arm. “Did you forget I’ve seen your drawings?”
He makes a face. As a child, he’d captured the world around him in sketchbooks. When we’d been on our hiatus, between towns, I’d hoped he might take that up again, but we’d been too busy for hobbies.
“I want woodland critters on our house,” I say. “And you know how much you love to give me what I want.”
He rolls his eyes. “I thought I was supposed to be getting over that.”
“When it comes to showering me in gifts, yes. Painting our house is an entirely different thing.” I look back at the cabin. “Do you see signs of habitation?”
He points out signs that someone is living there, but it’s hard to tell whether they are currently at home.
“Approach with caution?” I say.
“Yep.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dalton pulls on a light jacket to hide his gun while keeping it within reach. I adjust my own jacket. Then we step into the clearing. Dalton nods for me to take the lead. Even at its gruffest, my voice sparks fear in no one.
“Hello?” I say. “My name is Casey Butler. You brought an injured colleague of ours home. I wanted to thank you for that and ask a few questions about his accident.”
Silence.
