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Then I thought of my grandmother’s journals.

Yes, there were sections I didn’t dare show him, but the little diaries also contained plenty of innocuous entries that only talked about the regular flora and fauna in the woods.

If he had more information to work with, he might be able to present more convincing evidence to the people of Silver Hollow.

Or at least, if Ben could give me some pointers on how to persuade those who might only looking at dollar signs to understand how those precious birds and animals and plants needed to be preserved rather than have their habitat destroyed, then I thought I might have a fighting chance at getting Northwest Pacific to back off.

“Just a sec,” I said, then got up from the sofa again.

He sent me a quizzical glance but seemed content to wait while I returned to the study.

Once there, I paused as I ran my finger over the journals’ spines, coming to rest on the one dated June 2001 through October 2002.

I’d noticed that diary in particular because it seemed as if there hadn’t been any legendary beast sightings during that entire time.

When I’d first looked through it, I’d only wondered what had caused there to be such a gap, even though my overall family history told me such things weren’t so unusual.

Now, though, I realized it would be the perfect journal to hand over to Ben, since it didn’t contain anything that would give away the true secrets of the woods.

With the small leatherbound volume in hand — not for the first time, I wondered where my grandmother had found such a large matching set, considering how Etsy hadn’t even been a thing back when she started keeping a journal — I returned to the living room.

Ben was still in his chair and sipping some water, and if he’d snooped in my laptop, there was no sign of it.

I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’d seemed trustworthy enough so far, despite his reasons for coming to Silver Hollow.

“Maybe this will also help to convince people to send Northwest Pacific packing,” I said as I handed over the journal.

Ben took it from me, hazel eyes immediately alight with interest. “What is it?”

“My grandmother’s diary,” I replied, then returned to my spot on the couch. “She liked to wander in the woods and was a kind of amateur artist, so she recorded a lot of what she saw. There could be species in there that no one even knows about.”

The nod he gave me in reply was almost distracted, and I could tell he was already absorbed in flipping through the pages of the journal, his gaze scanning the pages and the writing and illustrations it contained.

“This is amazing,” he said after a moment. “Your grandmother is really talented.”

I couldn’t help noticing how he’d avoided using the past tense. That was kind of him, even though I’d already started to slip up and think of my mother and grandmother in such terms, as if some part of my brain had decided to acknowledge the very real possibility that they might be gone forever.

The rest of me, however, wasn’t ready to go there. It had only been three months, after all, and since the authorities still had them listed as missing and not presumed dead, that was the position I planned to take as well.

“She loves her watercolors,” I responded, making sure I used the present tense as well.

“When she wasn’t exploring the woods, she’d paint the flowers in the gardens or anything else that took her fancy.

One of the shops downtown has a couple of her pieces for sale, even though she never wanted to refer to herself as a professional. ”

“Well, she should,” Ben said as he continued to inspect the journal. “This diary in itself is a work of art. But anyway, I think there’s plenty here to try to convince the people of Silver Hollow that too much is at risk to allow Northwest Pacific within ten miles of those woods.”

“You’re sure?” I asked.

For a second or two, his gaze met mine, and an odd little shiver went through me. It wasn’t just that he was the best-looking man I’d encountered in a long while.

No, there was something in that look which seemed to tell me he planned to be here to help me with this, no matter what.

Considering how my previous boyfriend had basically abandoned me to deal with my family drama on my own — sure, I was the one who’d formally broken things off, but that was only after he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in lending any real emotional or mental support — I wasn’t sure how to react to someone who seemed so willing to reach out and lend a hand.

All right, Ben Sanders wasn’t my boyfriend, wasn’t anything close.

However, he did seem to have become an unexpected lifeline…and God knows I desperately needed one right then.

His next words were no-nonsense enough, though.

“Well, I can’t be completely sure,” he said, then set the journal down on the coffee table. “This isn’t my area of expertise, and I don’t know the people of this town like you do. But one thing I’ve learned is that there’s nothing to lose by appealing to people’s better natures.”

I liked how he was being honest and not trying to tell me of course we’d be able to persuade everyone that Northwest Pacific was only thinking about lining its pockets and not worrying about the sort of damage it would leave behind.

False confidence wouldn’t help us, while being clear-eyed about the problem at hand could only be to our benefit.

“So…what do you think is the best way to proceed?”

He looked thoughtful. “I know the forest is a real draw for tourists, but how many of the people who actually live here in Silver Hollow go hiking in the woods on a regular basis?”

At least I had an answer for that question. “I’d say maybe half. There are people too busy with their families and businesses to have much free time for that kind of thing, and there are others who have physical limitations that don’t really allow them to hike, even on the easier trails.”

Ben absorbed my reply, then said, “Okay. I have a feeling the ones who are out there a lot probably don’t need a ton of persuading, but it might be a good idea to put together a little brochure or pamphlet that highlights some of the animals and plants that would be in danger if Northwest Pacific really starts cutting.

Posters, too, if you can get permission from some of the business owners downtown to put them up. ”

I didn’t think I’d have too much of a problem with that part of our plan.

While there were people who might get some short-term business from the logging community, most of the citizens of Silver Hollow understood that the real bread and butter was in the tourists who came here year after year to enjoy the natural beauty of the place.

“That’s a good idea,” I said, then paused. “Well, except for the part where I have no idea how to do any of this stuff. It’s not like I minored in graphic design or something.”

“You don’t do ads for the pet store?”

At once, I shook my head. “No. The shop has been around long enough that everyone in town knows all about it, and when people vacation here with their pets, they almost always look it up online.”

His brows lifted. “You have a website?”

“Of course I do,” I said in mock-severe tones. “I’m not totally living in the twentieth century.” Since Ben still looked amused, I found myself forced to add, “But I did hire someone to put it together for me…and to create the logo.”

“It’s not a problem either way,” he assured me. “While I doubt I’d ever be hired by a big Fifth Avenue ad firm, I’ve been designing my flyers and handouts for years, and I’ve got the Adobe suite on my laptop. So once we’ve figured out what we want to say, I can take care of that part of the plan.”

A man of many talents, it seemed. I wondered exactly how long he planned to stay in Silver Hollow, since this didn’t seem like the sort of undertaking that could be accomplished in just a day or two.

However, I decided not to ask. Ben had a much better idea of his commitments than I did, and if he thought he could handle all this, then I wasn’t going to probe too closely.

Not when I needed all the help I could get.

“Okay, so we’ve got that part figured out,” I said. “What’s next?”

“Well, we were already planning to go back to the forest tomorrow morning,” he responded. “So, we’ll meet up and see if we can get some pictures we can use in our campaign materials.”

“‘Campaign’?” I echoed, and he only smiled.

“To save the forest from Northwest Pacific,” he said. “Your grandmother’s watercolors are beautiful, but it couldn’t hurt to have some photos as well. Luckily, the weather report made it sound as if tomorrow is going to be nice.”

Around here, that mostly meant it wasn’t going to rain, which would be a huge improvement from the downpour we’d had to wait out earlier today.

“All right,” I said. “Then I’ll see you at the trailhead at seven tomorrow morning.”

It would be a hike that had a dual purpose: to snap images of any particularly interesting birds and animals and plants…and to make sure I also guided him away from all the places where legendary creatures had been spotted over the years.

I just had to hope I’d be up to the task.