by Sara Clancy
“Bannock?”
Holding onto the thought, Ruby lurched to her feet and followed whichever way the animal pulled. The steps sounded only a few feet behind as she limped into a sprint. Suddenly, they passed the edge of the visitor’s tent and the firelight of the cabin blazed to life in the corner of her eyes. It was dim. Just a meager slip of gold that escaped around the edges of the curtains and door. She barreled towards it, pain forgotten, Bannock yelping at her side.
The screen door squealed as she yanked it open. It swung back to drive against her side as she threw her weight against the wooden door, the strike creating a new burst of agony as she worked the knob. Bannock leaped inside the moment she was able to open the door. She followed, slamming the door shut without looking back. Her fingers could barely move as she fumbled with the little sliding lock. Still captured by panic, she grabbed one of the chairs from the nearby table and jammed the back of it under the hand. A few swift kicks to the legs and she crammed it in tight enough to keep the door in place.
It was as she limped away from the door that her adrenaline left her. Without it, the pain in her leg soon overshadowed most of everything else. Still watching the door, she blindly reached for the bed, her legs crumbling as she sunk onto the mattress. The sleeping bag slipped and she dropped heavily onto the floor. A pitiful sob broke from her throat. Had that been real? The question boiled in her head. She had heard it. With every step she had taken back to the cabin, there hadn’t been a shadow of a doubt that someone, or something, had been following her. But now that she was surrounded by the warmth and glow of the fire, she wasn’t so sure. The memories repeated in her head. And, with each rendition, she doubted herself a little more.
Her sole piece of evidence was Bannock. Forsaking his spot before the fireplace, he curled up beside her and whimpered as he sought out her attention. With one more broken sob, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his fur. He leaned into the touch, nuzzling her knee as he continued to whimper. While she couldn’t wrap her mind around what had just happened, she knew she wasn’t going to leave the cabin again tonight. And she wasn’t going to let the fire burn out.
Chapter 5
Ruby stirred as the air slipped under the rim of her sleeping bag to caress her with an icy hand. That and the slight tinge of smoke that tinted her every breath made it clear that the fire had died out. Blinking her eyes open, she made the mistake of moving her legs. While the sleeping bag radiated with warmth where she lay, it was frigid just an inch beyond it. Shivering, she retreated to her original position and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, she overshot and ended up kicking Bannock’s side with her heel. With a snort, he lifted his head and turned to face her. Dog or not, there was no mistaking that kind of resentful glare.
Grumbling slightly, he dropped down onto the ground and began to stretch out his spine. Figuring that this was a sign that her sleep-in was limited, Ruby forced herself to sit up. She gave up the second the frozen air touched her bed-warm shoulders and pulled the sleeping bag over her head. It took a few moments for her to gather the courage to venture out again. Wrapping the sleeping bag tightly around herself, she shuffled over to the fireplace. Even though she only had very limited practice in starting fires, she still found it far easier than her first time to get the flames lapping at the wood once more. Heat poured out towards her and she warmed her hands. It was then that she noticed that her breath was misting. She watched it churn and dissipate into the air. Her brow furrowed. It shouldn’t be this cold yet.
Still shielded by the sleeping bag, she shuffled to the window. As she demanded more from her leg, the small ache in her shin began to blossom into a dull throb that echoed the length of the bone. It was a painful reminder of last night. It didn’t matter how long she had turned it over in her mind, she still hadn’t been able to figure out what had been chasing her. But nothing else had happened and her exhaustion had pulled her into a restless sleep.
Reaching over the table, she cautiously pulled up one edge of the curtain and blinked into the early morning light. Snow drifted down like lazy rain, the flakes catching the light as they flipped and toppled. There must have been quite a downpour last night because the world was covered with about half an inch of fine powder. The sight made her smile and she turned to Bannock.
“Look how pretty it is.”
The dog yawned and re-stretched his legs until they trembled.
She tilted her head. “Still one of the best conversations I’ve had lately.”
She had a growing suspicion that she would be talking to all of the dogs by the end of the season. At Bannock’s growing impatience, Ruby decided that she better get changed quickly or be prepared to clean up a mess. Searching into the deeper recesses of her suitcase, she found the clothes she hadn’t thought she’d have to use this early in the season. Thermals, thick socks, and a fake fur-lined hat that had flaps she could secure over her ears. Ruby had never changed so fast in her life, but she still lost a good chunk of her body heat. Because of this, she decided to let the fire burn while she started her chorus. Anything to fend off the chill. She pulled the water jug out from under the sink and rattled it around. Empty. Sighing, she retrieved her thick wool gloves. It would have been nice to come back to a nice hot drink.
“I’ll have to learn to keep an eye on the water level, huh, boy?”
Instead of responding to her voice, he crowded towards the door and scratched at the legs of the chair that still barricaded it. She hesitantly approached it and quickly snuck another glance out of the window. The yard was peaceful and quiet, brought to a new level of beauty by the still falling snow. Nothing looked out of place. In the light, all the things that had looked so daunting were now simply trees.
Even with this reassurance, sludge still bubbled within the pit of her stomach as she began to dislodge the chair. She couldn’t help sneaking another quick glance out the window before pulling the chair free. Its legs scraped over the floor and she winced at the sound. Now there was only the tiny lock keeping the door in place, and she felt a new wave of trepidation. Something in her core told her not to go out there. But Bannock grew restless and reared up to scratch at the handle with both paws. She bit her lip, reached up, and quickly flicked open the lock. Nothing came barging in. Slowly, she opened the door. Bannock slipped through the first chance he got and raced across the open area.
The jug bounced against her shin as she struggled through the doorway and bit back a pained hiss. In her haste to get warm, she hadn’t spared the time to properly look at the wound. But she only needed a passing glance to know the damage. A vast portion of her skin was now taken up by a purpling bruise that spread out from the point of impact like a rash. Making a mental note to clean it up when she had some hot water, she tried her best to ignore it.
Grabbing a couple of jugs that were stored by the fence, she decided to walk down to the lake, not wanting to destroy the tranquility with the roar of a car engine. Bannock seemed happy enough by her choice and jumped around her legs before racing off with an excited bark. She was cold, hungry, and completely at peace. Last night seemed like a distant memory, and all that lay before her was a day full of playing with dogs and finally getting through her novel.
The lake might not have felt all that far off if it hadn’t been for the ache in her shin. As it was, she continued at a slow but steady pace and breathed deeply of the pine-scented air. She couldn’t tell how long it took and she wasn’t trying to keep track of it. Bannock knew the way. He darted from one side of the road to the other, sniffing at everything before bouncing down the embankment like a jackrabbit. Ruby followed at a far slower pace, careful of any dips or loose soil that the snow could already be hiding.
Despite her care, her foot hit a slick patch of earth and sent her sliding. Dumped onto her butt, the jugs toppled from her hands and bounced down the rest of the way to end up in the lake. Ruby planted her feet and brought herself to a sharp stop within inches of the water’s e
dge. Quickly shifting onto her knees, she reached for the jugs that were drifting slowly away, her gloved fingers slipping over the plastic sides. Bannock seemed to find the whole thing amusing and began to leap and dart around her, kicking up the water, mud, and snow. Ignoring him as best she could, she leaned over a little further, straining not to fall into the water.
Bannock slammed his weight against her back and flung her forward. The arctic water rushed up to meet her, engulfing her like a thousand icy knives. The air rushed from her lungs in a painful gasp and her mind scattered to a stop. She scrambled back up onto the bank, the water gushing from her to melt the frost covered mud. The soaked wool of her gloves numbed her fingers as they found an unnatural groove. Trembling violently, she hurled herself onto all fours and looked down at her hands.
A footprint. A human footprint. Her brows furrowed as she followed the trail with her eyes. It curved along the rim of the lake before traveling it to climb up the embankment and disappear under the cover of the plants. Her stomach cramped when she realized that the trail headed back towards her cabin.
The blare of a car horn made her snap her head up. Each muscle in her body squeezed and trembled, making it a struggle to get back onto her feet. With an agonizing amount of effort, she lifted her head to see Aaron rushing down the embankment towards her.
“Ruby, we thought that was you. Are you okay?” The soles of his boots cracked through the hardened mud as he reached the shoreline and held out his hand.
She took him up on his offer and allowed him to drag her the rest of the way onto her feet. Her waterlogged pants clung to her like sheets of ice, numbing her legs and gushing down to fill her boots. Already her teeth were chattering. Aaron urged her to move with one hand pressing at her back.
“What are you doing getting wet in weather like this? Come on, now. Hurry up.”
“Wait,” Ruby said. “Look what I found.”
Struggling to keep her balance, she tightened her grip on Aaron’s hand and pointed at the trail of footsteps. They barely managed to hold his attention for a moment.
“I’m not sure why that’s worth noticing.”
“Someone was walking around the camp last night,” she said, her air clouding before her.
“You mean Peter? He was supposed to come by yesterday and introduce himself.”
“I don’t think it was Peter–”
“He didn’t come by?”
“No, he did, but this was late at night.”
Aaron laughed and Ruby was forced to wait with a growing sense of dread to see what kind of laugh it was.
“You city kids are all the same.”
“What?”
“It was probably just a rabbit.”
She shook her head. “No, this sounded like footsteps.”
Gently, he began to push her towards the incline.
“There are a few rabbits that like to nest around the area. They can get surprisingly territorial. One probably just chased you a bit.” He laughed again and Ruby was almost certain that he was openly mocking her. “It can sound pretty intimidating for someone who’s not used to it.”
“So,” she stammered, trying to follow his line of thought as her brain numbed, “you think Peter left these?”
“No, they’re far too small for him. They’re probably left over from when his nephew visited.” Aaron paused and looked her over carefully. “Are you okay? I mean, if you don’t think that you can do this job, now is the time to say it.”
She opened her mouth slightly but couldn’t think of what to say. Had it really just been a rabbit and a trick of the mind? This time, as she mulled over the question, the answer seemed incredibly simple. And regardless, one awkward night wasn’t enough for her to throw aside not only her job but also her home for the next six months. She had nowhere else to go. So she shrugged one shoulder and forced a smile.
“I’m alright,” she said. “I think you’re right. Strange place with strange sounds and my mind ran away with me.”
Still, Ruby couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting back to the footprints as she crawled her way up to Betsy and the waiting car.
Chapter 6
With all three of them present, it didn’t take long for them to clean the yard and feed the now ravenous dogs. Aaron taught Ruby the best ways to spread the straw within the doghouses for maximum insulation. An easy task in principle, but far harder in reality as the dogs made a game of pulling it back out the second she turned her back. They worked their way through the doghouses as Betsy went into the visitor’s tent to take care of a few last minute things.
By the time the jobs were done, Ruby felt like there was an inch of snow piled up in every crease of her jacket, mixing with layers of dog fur and slobber. She tried to clean herself off, absently following Aaron as he moved towards the playpen.
“Was Snow hard to handle?” Aaron asked.
The dog in question was currently brimming with both excitement and energy, alternating between leaping against the fence and running around in circles.
Giving up on her gloves ever being clean again, Ruby shrugged. “She made a little run for it. But it was fine in the end.”
After Aaron’s reaction to her story about being chased by phantom sounds, she wasn’t about to tell him how she had been scared in the woods. Looking back on it now, her fear seemed childish, and certainly nothing to risk losing her job over.
“She’ll do that,” he said. “Actually, they all do.”
He turned and watched her silently for a moment. Hesitantly, she smiled.
“That was a joke, right?” she asked.
“Yes, it was.”
Ruby chuckled and he flashed his teeth in what she assumed was a pleasant smile.
“Just remember to keep a good grip on them. Even if one does scurry off somewhere, they’ll always come back for dinner.”
Aaron brought Fire and Snow out, leaving her to put in the next two on the roster. Luckily for her, the next two dogs to go into the playpen were barely more than pups and had yet to grow into their strength, allowing her to display a little bit of competence. Securing the golden furred Nugget and the shaggy Echo was easy, and Aaron flashed his teeth at her again. She took it as a good sign.
On their way to the visitor’s tent, Aaron noticed that some of the garden stones were dislodged from their usual places. Ruby wrung her hands as she waited for him to ask her about it, but he never did. He just absently pushed them back into place with the toe of his boot and continued on his way. Her leg ached just a little bit more as she followed.
The moment Ruby passed the threshold, it struck her as strange that she hadn’t looked inside before. It was larger than she would have thought, but just as cold. The gathering snow created splotchy shadows across the heavy canvas roof, and paintings, photographs, and postcards of the pack decorated the space. Hooks ran the length of the opposite wall, sled dog harnesses dangling off each one, ready for the next season. A barrel stove that was similar to the one in the cabin took up the closest corner, and old but comfortable looking sofas had been shoved back against the far wall. Beyond that, it was just open space that served as the perfect storage area for the boxes they had brought in.
Betsy straightened up from the boxes she was packing and dusted her hands off on her thighs. “All done here,” she said. “How are you two going?”
“The pack is set. I don’t think they’re going to miss us at all,” Aaron said.
“Good,” Betsy said with a flash of her teeth. “Well, if you don’t have any questions for us, Ruby, we need to get on our way. The train leaves in about an hour.”
The question brought into stark clarity that Ruby was going to be well and truly on her own. Last night, the thought that someone was coming in the morning had seemed like a well-needed safety net. She wouldn’t have that tonight. No one would be coming for me, she thought. No one would be expecting me. A lot could happen before anyone could even think to look. Ruby shivered at the thought but quickly tried to cover
it up as a symptom of the encroaching cold. Wrapping her arms around herself, she made a show of rubbing away the chill.
“I’ll be fine,” Ruby smiled. “Enjoy your trip.”
“Don’t worry so much,” Betsy said. “Just make sure to keep the water jugs in with you. Oh, and restock the cabin’s firewood. They’re forecasting a snowstorm tonight. Nothing too serious but you don’t want to be caught out in it.”
“I will,” Ruby assured. “If it gets really bad, should I bring the dogs in?”
Aaron was the one to answer, “I don’t think that will be necessary. Not with the new straw. You’ll only ever have to bring them in once it starts dropping to around twenty degrees below.”
“And watch your liquids,” Betsy added in a light tone. “Using the outhouse during a storm isn’t exactly pleasant.”
Aaron laughed as he slipped around Ruby and headed for the door. He seemed intent on getting out of here as quickly as possible. Ruby assumed that it had been a while since the couple’s last vacation. There were a few more parting words, some warnings and reassurances, but Ruby barely heard any of it. Her mind kept returning to the fact that she would be alone. For some reason, the certainty of isolation made it harder to keep her mind from straying back to the footprints she had found.
Aaron’s explanations made sense. She couldn’t refute them and didn’t have any of her own to offer. But there was just something about them that struck deep into her brain and lodged there. Standing in the tent’s doorframe, she watched their car pull out of the yard. The dogs broke into a flurry of barks and she found comfort in the noise. At least they’ll be here, Ruby thought with a little smile. So, not completely alone.
The rumble of the engine lingered long after she had lost sight of the car within the forest. Gradually, the dogs calmed down and went back to playing with the straw. Ruby stayed where she was, holding herself tightly, and watched the snow as it gently hovered on the slight breeze. The peacefulness that enclosed the scene filled her with every breath, and she leaned against the doorframe, settling it to better delight in it.