Chapter 4: Chapter Four

Before Elaine could jump into eternity, a lifegiving thought entered her mind. There was one soul, no matter how small, which needed her desperately. If she killed herself tonight, who would care for Cricket? The dog, aged six months, had grown up from a runt puppy but was still young and vulnerable.

Elaine stumbled backwards from the edge and fell onto her knees. She cried and cried, pouring out liquid pain. How she wanted to die but couldn't bring herself to jump onto the rocks below. Her fists clenched as she fought against the need.

Time softened the urge until reason and the will to survive came forward again. Her head pounded, her mouth parched through. Loneliness settled upon a bruised heart.

Pulling herself up, she dusted off her dress and took a deep, shaky breath. Mercury was grazing several paces away, oblivious to her fatal despair. She grasped his reins and led the gelding along the road toward home.

Another half hour of walking brought the cabin within sight. She stabled the loyal equine and fed him. The cow was milked and eggs gathered from her ten laying hens. Once all these chores were done, she locked the doors and bolted every window to keep out wild beasts.

Mentally and physically exhausted, Elaine went inside the cabin. Cricket rushed out into the yard to relieve himself. Thankfully, he was quick about his business and ran back to his mistress. The crossbar was lowered across the entrance and the fire banked for the night.

She retired to her room, followed closely by Cricket's padding footsteps. She changed out of her dusty party dress and donned a white nightgown. Slipping into bed, she patted the space next to her. The dog jumped up and laid down, cuddling against her bosom. She stroked his soft, golden fur.

Gathering him closer, she snuggled down and lay still for a long time, listening to every sound. A wolf howled in the distance and a second one responded. Crickets chirped in the meadow. A bear roared high in the mountains. A solitary bird whined a lonely tune before falling silent.

Vibrating up from her toes, a shiver coursed through her body. This wilderness was rugged, harsh, lonely and dangerous at every turn. The beauty could hardly soothe her nerves and make up for the danger. Especially when she could be dead from any number of threats.

Guilt spread through her.

Despite Lee Harrison's generosity, she hadn't been prepared for the closeminded townspeople and utter solitude. Not even the Widow Florence London would speak to her now, let alone help in a crisis. Elaine Bower was truly alone in the world.

Perhaps another chance in a populated city would be the ticket. Being such a hardworker, she should be able to find work with a wealthy family. She was educated, cultured and skilled at odd jobs. Her employment options could be as a governess, maid or cook. Among crowds of city people, her past may be trampled underfoot and forgotten.

With her mind made up, Elaine drifted off to sleep, hoping for sunnier pastures.

Deep in the night, a deafening crash woke her with a thunderous clap. She sat bolt upright in bed, looking around in shock. The clock next to her bed showed two-thirty in the wee hours. Cricket was barking hysterically. Blinding light illuminated the bedroom and flashed away in an instant, replaced by pitch-black silence.

In the dark and terrified, Elaine grabbed her shotgun from the corner. Her heart beating fast, she opened the bedroom window and fired off three deafening shots into the sky. Not a sound was heard except the occasional wolf howl echoed back by its companion. Frantic, she barricaded her bedroom door by pushing the dresser across it.

From under the bed, the dog whimpered and whined.

“Hush now, Cricket darling, I need to listen,” she admonished, pulling up a chair to the open window. “Oh, we need to get out of here. I must leave tomorrow...”

Until dawn, she kept herself awake, keeping watch. When the sun had risen over the mountains, Cricket's whining jarred her nerves. She had been leaning back in the chair, the shotgun held in her limp hands. A yawn escaped her mouth. Fatigue stiffened her limbs as she stretched in the early morning light.

With tired purpose, she dressed in a plain brown frock. The dresser was shoved back to its original location. Cricket scratched at the threshold, yipping with excitement. Elaine turned the knob and peeked into the main room. The fire had burnt low long ago.

Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, a cheery sight after the hellish night. Shotgun in hand, she ventured forth, tiptoeing along. The dog wagged excitedly by the front door. When she opened it a crack, he bolted through.

“No, Cricket, no! Bad dog, get back here. Please, come back! We don't know what's out there...”

Heedless of her wishes, he ran off the porch and around the cabin. Despite her fear, she followed close behind, shotgun held tightly within her hands. The morning air was quiet but she was uneasy, jumping at the slightest noise. She called to Cricket again but he wasn't in sight and didn't come either.

The meadow swayed lazily in the back acreage. She found a hole made in the tall grass where an animal may have entered. Suspecting her dog had passed here, she followed the groove. Several yards hence, she came upon a section of broken fence. A curious, dirt crater surrounded the damage. The wood had been smashed into kindling. Her dog was sniffing around, transfixed by a scent.

What in the world had happened here the night before?

Cautiously, Elaine knelt beside Cricket snuffling in the dirt. Black liquid and white feathers peppered the matted grass. She dabbed a fingertip against a droplet. Blood came away on her skin. An animal was injured but what she couldn't say. Maybe a bird, judging by the feathers?

Nudging at her elbow, Cricket panted and wagged excitedly.

“What do you think, boy? Can you show me where this wounded creature has gone?” she asked, straightening to her feet. “You find it and I'll kill it. We can't have a wounded bear or something attacking without warning.”

The dog yipped and took off, bounding away towards the pine woods. Elaine did her best to keep up, despite her stupid dress impeding her progress through the dense forest floor. Often, she would lose sight of Cricket. All she had to do was listen and could hear the dog crashing along in the underbrush. A yip here or a bark there told her that he was still following the blood trail.

After some time, she lost patience and stopped to rest against a tree trunk. Her breathing slowed and evened out as she glanced around. The forest was beautiful in the morning light. Sunshine streamed through the treetops, falling in patches upon the ground foliage. Dust and butterflies danced in the golden shafts.

Afar off, Cricket began barking relentlessly.

“If that dog is barking at a squirrel, he's in big trouble,” she grumbled.

Following the noise, she drudged through green foliage and animal dung, eventually coming upon a shallow, trickling creek bed. Cupping a handful of fresh water, she drank freely. The shady, forested spot was beautiful and she realized this beauty for the first time. Hot and sweaty after walking, she splashed her face as well.

She decided to walk upstream, still looking for Cricket who had fallen silent.

Worried, she came around a bend and found a hidden cave set within mossy hillsides. Shrouded by bushes and flowers, the creek disappeared into the entrance. Wild, yellow roses bloomed across the water, lending their thorns to protect its place of birth.

Elaine peered within, unsure about entering.

Her hands gripped the shotgun tighter, the only means of protection that she possessed right then. She dithered about going into the dark interior. A ravenous bear or territorial cougar could have already claimed this space for his den. She called for her dog again and heard a bark echo back.

Her heart sank, waiting to hear his wounded cries.

Fear clutching at her throat, she used the shotgun to hold back the rose briars. Thorns tore at her skirt. Scratches cut bright red slashes upon her hands. Her fastenings came loose. The amber tresses fell about her face, obstructing her view. She broke through and stepped from one river rock to another until solid ground met her feet.

The cave yawned before her, black and intimidating. Her footsteps echoed off its craggy walls. Shafts of light poured in from holes in the jagged ceiling. As her eyes grew accustomed to these dim surroundings, details became sharper.

Again, she found what looked like trailed blood on the sandy floor, fresher than before. Dipping a finger into the wet, shiny liquid, she sniffed and was certain an animal was injured...or perhaps someone. In the dirt, she could see dragging impressions, as if whatever was pulling itself along by its weak strength.

“Cricket? Where are you, baby?” she called, walking forward. Oh, please don't be hurt!

A bark echoed from deeper within the black cavern. Relief weakened her knees. Running feet could be heard. With puppy glee, Cricket appeared and ran straight through the creek. Wet and muddy, the dog knocked her over in his excitement. Giggling, she fended off his happy antics and eager tongue.

Giving him a quick once over, she found fresh blood matted along his back. The dog squirmed and wiggled, causing difficulty. Despite this, she was able to pinpoint that Cricket wasn't wounded. The blood had come from another source.

Standing quickly, she picked up the shotgun and turned to leave, not keen to discover an injured, wild animal. Cricket refused to follow. Each time she yelled at him, he would jump back another step. Playful rump in the air, tail wagging, he insisted that she follow. When she walked in his direction, he bounded away into the darkness.

Reluctantly, she followed his barking into a damp, pitch-black world, only mapped out by the spiders, bats and slimy fish that called it home. A shiver ran down her spine, tingling out through her body. Cautiously, she tiptoed forward, gripping the shotgun ever tighter. When he fell silent, she halted in her tracks, afraid for her beloved dog.

A man's groans drifted and bounced off the stone corridor.

She froze, raising the shotgun to her shoulder. Step by step, she inched forward. A patch of sunlight had filtered through, illuminating her way. Coming around a final bend, she saw the outline of a man petting her dog. She didn't move, watching them for a lengthy time. Upon noticing her, Cricket wagged and bounded over.

Pulling back into the shadows, the man gave out a strangled gasp.

Elaine noticed still more blood glistening within a faint patch of golden sunlight. Cricket left her side and went into the darkness where the man was hiding. That dog had a mind of his own; she didn't even try to call him back.

“Who are you, sir? Can I be of assistance in some way?”

She inched closer and the scene became clearer before her eyes.

The stranger was certainly not a threat. He was laying on his side with listless arms flung out before him. Even from where she was standing, she could hear his ragged, painful breathing. He struggled to sit up. She could swear there was fear in his face. A groan escaped but he didn't speak.

Suddenly aware of the gun still in her hands, she leaned it against the nearest stone wall. “Oh, please forgive my precautions, sir. I was startled last night, you see, and have been on edge ever since. May I come closer to you?”

When she took another step forward, he cowered back against the rocks. They observed each other across the few feet separating them. She smiled, attempting to put him at ease. His arms trembled and holding himself up proved too much. He tumbled forward into the faint light, collapsing at her feet.

Bloody hands clutched at her skirt, their strength surprising her. He opened his mouth but not a word came out. All that escaped was a dry croak. Green eyes begged her for help before he passed out at her feet.

Speechless, she stood over this mysterious, wounded man.

Though he was dirty and blood-caked, she could tell that he could be handsome...incredibly handsome indeed. Though damp and muddy, a mop of blonde curls cascaded around his shoulders. His eyes had been vibrant green, shining like twin emeralds. What in the world was he doing way out here? And in such bad condition?

Putting aside wayward thoughts, she knelt down by Cricket and ruffled his fur. “Stay here, boy, alright? I need to bring the horse but our guest can't be left alone. Understand?”

The dog wagged and lay down by the man's side. Elaine smiled and picked up her shotgun. On her way back through the woods, she puzzled over what had happened the night before. Could this man have been responsible for the crash and blinding light? The white feathers in the meadow couldn't have been from him though...could they?

The entire situation was stranger than anything she had experienced before in her eventful life.