Morning Light

by Catherine Anderson

  “People’s reactions are only part of the problem. The other part is knowing about things others don’t and being unable to do anything. Your little boy, for instance. He is absolutely terrified, and he’s in grave danger. In the visions he seems so close I can almost touch him, only, of course, that’s impossible. He can’t hear me. He can’t see me. There’s nothing I can do to help him.”

  He bent his head, effectively blocking her view of his face with the brim of his hat. “I can’t handle that. You saying he’s my boy, I mean.” He looked back up at her. “You’ve been right about everything else, including the fact that I once dated his mother, but I think you’re getting your signals crossed about me being his dad. Sandra was one of the most honest people I’ve ever known. She wouldn’t have kept my child from me. I know that absolutely, without a trace of doubt.”

  Loni considered that revelation. It told her two things about him: that he was stubborn and that he was fiercely loyal, even to an old flame. Given that she was Scottish and just a little mule-headed herself, she couldn’t hold a stubborn streak against him, and she admired loyalty in anyone. It was also gratifying to discover that he had come to accept, however reluctantly, that she was actually receiving signals, no matter how inaccurate he deemed them to be.

  “All right,” she conceded. “Maybe I am getting my signals crossed.” Loni knew that wasn’t the case, but he’d come three-quarters of the way, and for the moment Trevor’s parentage didn’t really matter. Bottom line, he was a little boy in desperate need of this man’s help. “I’ll try to refrain from referring to him as your son again.”

  He inclined his head, a brief dip that barely passed for a nod. His body relaxed, and something resembling a smile fleetingly touched his molded lips. “Don’t misunderstand. I’d love to have a kid. I just can’t bring myself to believe Sandra was capable of that kind of deceit. It didn’t work out for us, but that was no more her fault than mine. She was a fantastic person.”

  Loni saw grief in his eyes, and she mentally added another check mark to the good. He’d loved Trevor’s mother, at least as a very dear friend, and he was shaken by her death.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That she died, I mean. I know it must be hard for you.”

  “Yes. Not hard like it would be if I lost a family member, but sad all the same. I can’t believe she’s gone.”

  A taut silence settled over the room. Then he said, “So what else have you seen?” He bent to scratch behind Hannah’s ears. The mastiff moved closer to his leg, her brown eyes going blank and dreamy. “About the boy, I mean. Do you have any idea which side of the river he’s on?”

  Loni searched her memory. “No, I’m sorry. I only know he’s using a compass, maybe trying to find his way to a road.”

  “Holy Mother,” he rasped. “If he’s going in the wrong direction he’ll find no road.” When he stopped petting Hannah, the dog leaned happily against his leg. “He could walk for fifty miles.”

  Though Loni knew nothing about the area Trevor was in, she’d already reached the same conclusion. “Looking on the bright side, Nana kept him from freezing to death last night. He also has two packs with him. I assume they must have washed up on the riverbank after the raft capsized. Fortunately the food inside one of them—candy bars, nuts, crackers, and the like—is in water-resistant packaging.”

  “He’ll go through that in only a few days, even if he rations himself.”

  “Yes. Especially since he’s sharing with Nana, who’s as ravenous as he is. On another positive note, the dog caught—or will catch—a rabbit, so I’m praying she’ll do that more than once so Trevor won’t starve.”

  “What do you mean, ‘caught or will catch’?”

  “My visions don’t come with the time and date blinking in one corner, Mr. Harrigan. I’m seldom sure if I’m seeing something that’s already happened, or if it’s happening right then, or if it will happen in the future. I also see things out of sequence sometimes.”

  A deep frown pleated his forehead. “That has to be confusing.”

  Loni wasn’t certain whether he was being sincere or condescending. She decided it didn’t matter. He was there, and he was listening. “It’s like being born with eleven toes. You get used to it.”

  He nudged the hat farther back on his head. “You actually see pictures of all this stuff inside your head?”

  Loni’s visions were more like film trailers, projected onto a 3-D screen, but she saw no point in correcting him. “Yes. When Nana brings the rabbit, Trevor finds a small ax and butane lighter in one of the packs, and he’s able to build a fire. Evidently someone has taught him at least a few survival skills. He manages to skin the rabbit and cook it, anyway. He and the dog share the meat.” She remembered something more. “Last night in one of my visions, wolves were howling. Trevor was terrified. He and Nana were inside a cave of some kind. I’m not sure how deep it went. I couldn’t see the sky, only a faint glimmer of moonlight at the opening. That may be why the helicopter with the heat sensor has picked up nothing yet, because when they combed the area Trevor was in, he was shielded by thick stone.”

  “The heat sensors are a fabulous search tool, but they aren’t always a help. Just last fall a boy got lost on a hiking trip, and so far as I know, he was never found.” He rubbed his jaw. “As for hearing wolves, you must be getting your wires crossed again. Coyotes, possibly.”

  Loni shook her head. “No, I’m certain it was wolves. They sound different from coyotes. I’ve watched enough wildlife documentaries to know that.”

  “To my knowledge there are no wolves in this section of the Cascades. Wolves were reintroduced to Idaho back in 1995, and a fledgling population has been reported in Washington’s northern Cascades, but I’ve heard nothing of wolf sightings in Oregon.”

  “I heard wolves,” Loni insisted. “I don’t know how many, but I’m certain there was more than one.”

  “You have that much faith in what you see and hear during these visions you say you have?”

  “Do you question what you see and hear?” she countered.

  He drew his cell phone from his belt and punched some buttons. A second later he said, “Parker, it’s Clint. You keep up on the wildlife in this country more than I do. Have you heard anything about wolves in the Shoshone Wilderness Area?” He listened for a moment. “An acquaintance of mine says she heard wolves in that area recently. Do you think that’s possible?”

  Loni’s shoulders stiffened. Clint’s gaze locked with hers.

  “So essentially you’re saying it’s not likely.” His brow furrowed in a thoughtful frown. “Really? You never mentioned that.” Another silence. “Interesting. But you couldn’t be sure?” He nodded. “Yeah, true enough. So what’s your conclusion?” He finally nodded and said, “Thanks, bro. I’ll catch you later.”

  He snapped the phone closed and clipped it back on his belt. “My brother. He can’t say if you actually heard wolves or not. He did relate some interesting facts, though. While on a trail ride in that area last fall, he saw tracks he thought might be wolf, but they could just as easily have been those of a large dog. It’s hard to tell the difference unless you’re a trained tracker, which he’s not, and hikers do take dogs with them along the trails.

  “That said, a dead wolf—roadkill, evidently—was found along the highway outside Burns a couple of years ago. Another radio-collared wolf, a black female, crossed the Snake River into the northeastern part of the state. The authorities transported her back to Idaho, and she was found dead sometime after that. He can’t remember if the carcass was recovered in Oregon or across the state line. I guess a couple of other wolves have also crossed over and met with untimely ends, one illegally shot.”

  Loni raised her chin. “If you’re going to doubt every word I say, Mr. Harrigan, I can’t be of much help to you.”

  “I’m a doubting Thomas. I told you that. You say you heard wolves. To my knowledge there are none in Oregon. Naturally I’m going to check it ou
t.”

  “And now that you have…?”

  “I can’t rule out the possibility that you heard wolves.”

  Loni arched an eyebrow. “So what do you plan to do about it?”

  “It’s not what I’m going to do, Ms. MacEwen, but what we are going to do.”

  “We?” she echoed. “As I said earlier, my going with you is a crazy idea.”

  “Not so crazy, if you think about it. The kid’s on the move. You said so yourself. I’ll never find him without your help.”

  “That isn’t how it works. I’ve told you all I know. The rest is up to you.”

  He shook his head. “Do you have any idea how large that area is—or how far a child might walk in one day? You have to go along to help me pinpoint his location.”

  “You don’t understand.” Loni tried to think of a way to explain. “I can’t summon the visions. They just happen. If I went with you, there’s no guarantee I’d see anything more.”

  “I’ll take my chances. You’ve been seeing the kid and his dog today. Right?”

  “Yes, but…I’ve never even been in a wilderness area.”

  “I have. No worries on that count.”

  “And just like that, I’m supposed to go with you? I know next to nothing about you, Mr. Harrigan. Smart women don’t take off alone into the wilderness with strangers.”

  “Look in your crystal ball and get to know me real fast then.”

  “I don’t have a crystal ball, and I resent your implying that I might.”

  “Look into the future then; see if I’m going to murder you the first time you turn your back on me.”

  “I can’t look into the future at will, either.” Loni clenched her teeth. She pried them apart to add, “I really don’t appreciate the sarcasm. Do you think that will convince me you’re trustworthy?”

  “That child’s life is on the line. I’ll also point out that I’m prepared to trust you. And that’s not an easy thing for me. I’ve been a skeptic all my life, and now I’m trying to rearrange my whole way of thinking.”

  “I’ve never even gone camping,” Loni confessed.

  An expression of sheer amazement flickered over his face. “Never?”

  “I was raised in the Seattle area. My dad’s a banker. My mom’s a horticulturist. He loves tennis, and she’s into long-distance bicycling. As a family we only ever did city stuff—going on bike rides, playing tennis, visiting museums, shopping along the waterfront. The closest we came to camping was one summer when my folks rented a cabin at the lake for a couple of weeks.”

  “We’ll work it out. I can’t promise you the Hilton, but if we take enough pack animals in with us, I can at least make sure you’re reasonably comfortable.”

  “Pack animals?” she echoed.

  “Horses.”

  “Horses? You expect me to ride a horse?”

  “Yes, unless you prefer to walk. With horses we can take enough supplies to last us at least a week. Searchers on foot can venture only so far from base camp before turning back. We’ll be able to push deeper because we’ll have our food and camping gear with us.”

  “Horses?” Loni echoed again. She’d never been within arm’s reach of an equine. “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrigan. I don’t ride.”

  He gave her a measuring look. “It appears to me you have all the necessary equipment. I’ll teach you the rest.” When Loni hesitated, he added, “Do you want to save this child or not?”

  “Of course I want to save him.”

  Loni thought of Trevor’s tear-streaked face, his lips blue from the cold. If there was a chance, however slim, that she might help Clint Harrigan find the boy, how could she say no? As Gram had pointed out last night, Loni had the proceeds from the sale of her Washington home to keep her afloat financially until she got her shop open for business. A delay of a few days wouldn’t send her into bankruptcy.

  Reaching a snap decision, she said, “All right, I’ll go with you. Just understand from the start that I may be more trouble than I’m worth.”

  She hurried into the kitchen to phone her sister, who would have to look after Hannah during her absence. Fortunately Deirdre had a key to the house and could pick up the dog after Loni had left.

  “You’re going to what?” Deirdre cried.

  “I’m going with Mr. Harrigan into the Shoshone Wilderness Area. He hopes I can help pinpoint Trevor’s location.”

  “On horseback? You’ll get bucked off and break your neck. Have you lost your mind?”

  Loni had already asked herself the same question. “Maybe, but it’s something I have to do.”

  After ending the call, Loni hurried to the bathroom to collect her toiletries and cosmetics, then ran to her bedroom to start packing her clothes. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Clint Harrigan spoke from directly behind her.

  “Forget the suitcase. Just toss everything in a pillowcase. We’ll be putting all of it into packs, anyway.” He picked up a pair of her slacks. “Don’t you have any jeans?”

  “Of course.” Loni held them up as evidence.

  He eyed the flowers embroidered over one pocket. “And that’s it, only one pair?”

  “I wear jeans on the weekends sometimes. One pair is all I need.”

  He grabbed one of her running shoes. “Where are your boots?”

  Loni’s only boots were calf-high with three-inch heels. She didn’t think they were what he had in mind. “I don’t have any boots. Not the right kind, anyway. I don’t hike or ride horses, so all I have are fancy ones to wear with dresses or skirts.”

  He stripped the case off one of her pillows and began sorting through her clothing, stuffing some of it inside, throwing other things onto a discard pile. “No worries. My sister, Samantha, is about your size. I’m sure she’ll be happy to lend you some riding boots and all the clothes you’ll need.”

  “That’s my warmest sweater,” she protested as he flung it aside.

  “If it gets wet and we try to dry it near a fire, it’ll melt. You need fleece, and lots of it. It’s light, very warm, blocks against the wind, and air-dries fairly fast.” One of her favorite sweatshirts went on the discard pile. “That’ll soak up water like a sponge. You could dry it by the fire, but it’d take two days.”

  To Loni’s relief he didn’t linger over her lacy underwear. He just put it in the pillowcase uncontested. Her Pooh Bear nightshirt didn’t pass muster, though, and when he grabbed her toiletry bag, Loni reached to rescue it.

  “I’ll need all of that.”

  “You won’t need this,” he said, holding up a tube of mascara. “Or this,” he added, plucking out a lipstick. “Bare essentials, and that’s it. I can’t burden my horses with anything unnecessary.”

  In the end all that remained in Loni’s cosmetic bag were her hairbrush, a tin of medicated lip balm, tampons, sunscreen, and her toothpaste and toothbrush. He even discarded her travel mirror.

  His high-handed manner started to make Loni angry. But then she thought of the horses, which would be carrying everything on their backs, including her, and she felt ashamed for getting miffed at him. He was only looking out for his animals, and she couldn’t fault him for that.

  So instead of blistering his ears with a critique of his behavior, she said, “I appreciate the help. Like I said earlier, I’m a total dunce when it comes to this kind of thing.”

  He angled her a sharp look; then his eyes warmed. He didn’t exactly smile, but his mouth twitched at one corner. “I’m a dunce at some things myself. Riding bikes in the city, for instance. I’d probably get myself killed.”

  The taut feeling in Loni’s throat that always came with anger vanished almost as quickly as it came, and she laughed. “Even experienced bicyclists can get themselves killed in the Seattle area.”

  “Same goes for wilderness rides.” He went back to sorting through her clothing. “If I seem pushy and overbearing, it’s only because there’s no time to waste. We have to reach the south trailhead tonight, grab a few hours’ sleep, an
d start in at dawn. And trust me, packing for a wilderness trek on horses isn’t anything like loading a bike. It’ll take me a few hours to get our gear ready. I not only have to pack for us, but also for my animals.”

  “I’ll help if you’ll tell me what to do.”

  This time the twitch of his lips eased into a crooked grin. “Offer accepted.”

  Chapter Three

  Leaving Clint Harrigan to finish with the packing, Loni made her rounds of the house, pulling blinds and cutting the power to all the small appliances she used on a regular basis. All the other household gadgets were routinely left unplugged except when she needed them.

  She was bent over and twisted awkwardly at the waist with her head behind the television when he startled her once again by speaking from directly behind her.

  “You worried about fire while you’re gone or something?”

  Loni finished jerking the cord from the receptacle and turned to face him. He held the top of her embroidered pillowcase bunched in one fist. Not for the first time she felt a jolt of amazement to actually be standing face-to-face with him. He looked exactly as he had in her dreams, dark and ruggedly handsome, but in the flesh he had a much greater impact on her nerves, giving her a strange and purely feminine case of jitters. She had to make a concentrated effort to collect her thoughts and recall his question.

  “Most appliances are energy vampires, especially this one.” She could only hope he didn’t notice that her hand was shaking as she patted the television console. “This monster sucks power even when it’s turned off because it’s always on standby for a click of the remote control.”

  She expected him to snort with disdain, the way most people did. Instead he said, “I never thought of that. How much electricity does a television use when it’s turned off but still plugged in?”

  “I’m not sure, but every little bit adds up.” Loni could have recited dozens of statistics, but her views on the average American’s wasteful consumption of energy and natural resources didn’t seem all that important compared to the peril little Trevor was in. She pushed a curly lock of hair from her eyes. “And you really shouldn’t get me started. I can go on and on.”