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Chapter Ten

T he evening hadn’t ended with a kiss — Ben knew he and Sidney were nowhere near that point, even though he’d gotten the impression she wasn’t entirely disinterested — but he thought it had gone well nonetheless.

Now they had a common goal, one that would probably keep him here in Silver Hollow for at least a few more days.

And since he didn’t have anywhere else he absolutely needed to be, he thought that was just fine by him.

Well, except the part where an extended stay at the bed-and-breakfast would seriously strain his credit limit, but he supposed he could always break out his emergency Amex card if he had to.

Luckily, he bumped into Mabel Whitaker just as he was about to leave to meet Sidney for their morning hike. The B&B’s owner was busy setting out some of the breakfast goodies, and she urged him to take a croissant when he told her he was going for an early wander in the woods.

“You need something in your system if you’re going to be roaming around out there,” she said, something in her tone almost scolding, so he dutifully scooped up a croissant and wrapped a napkin around it so it wouldn’t leave crumbs everywhere.

In that moment, he wondered if she had children, because she sounded a lot like his mother might if the two women were the same age. Of course, any kids of Mabel’s would be older and established, and probably not hanging around their mother’s B&B.

“Oh, I was wondering,” he said. “Would it be all right to extend my stay through Sunday, possibly a little longer?”

“Of course,” she replied at once. “Like I said before, your room is booked starting next Wednesday, but I can move you to a different one if necessary. Right now, I have the extra space since things won’t really start to get busy around here until the end of June.”

Even if he wanted to hang around Silver Hollow that long, Ben knew there was no way in the world he could afford such an extended trip. But at least it was good to know that he wouldn’t have to vacate his comfortable room anytime over the next few days.

He thanked her and headed outside. The ubiquitous clouds and fog had lifted, and the sky was a clear, bright blue, the forest dark and almost brooding in contrast. It looked like the sort of place where almost anything could be hiding.

Most likely, though, they’d only see some deer and woodpeckers, and maybe the elusive spotted owl if they were really lucky. Capturing an owl on camera would definitely provide an image they could use in their flyers and brochures.

Sidney was waiting at the trailhead, today in a short-sleeved T-shirt as a nod to the uncharacteristically sunny weather.

“Hey,” she said as he approached. “Looks like the forecasts were right.”

Ben noticed that she still had a lightweight nylon jacket tied around her waist, though, obviously as a hedge against any unexpected storms.

He’d done much the same thing as cheap insurance, except his jacket — the one he’d loaned her yesterday — had been rolled into a ball and stored in his backpack.

“Then I hope we can get some good photos today,” he responded. “The bright lighting will help.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see.”

They both struck out on the trail, going the same way they had the day before. However, they’d only walked about ten minutes before she jogged off to the left, following a path so faint, he didn’t think he would have even realized it was there.

That was why it helped so much to be with someone who knew a place like the back of her hand. She moved with sureness but not too quickly, probably so they would make as little noise as possible.

Then she came to a dead stop, and he just barely avoided crashing right into her.

Not that colliding with Sidney Lowell would necessarily be a bad thing.

“Up there,” she said in a whisper so low, Ben could barely make out what she had said.

Her head tilted upward, and he looked up as well to see a small bird sitting on the branch of a huge pine that seemed as though it had been there since the dawn of time.

A spotted owl.

Well, that was what the little bird looked like, anyway.

Moving slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

That morning before he’d left the B&B, he’d taken a few snaps of silly stuff with the iPhone — his suitcase, his toothbrush lying on the bathroom counter — just to make sure the camera was working properly.

It seemed to be just fine, which made his disappearing photos of the day before even more of a mystery.

He raised the phone, got the owl centered, and waited for the camera to adjust to the backlighting.

As far as he could tell, the setup was perfect, so he took some rapid-fire shots to ensure one would be workable, paused briefly to glance at the photos and saw that at least three of them looked pretty good, and then returned the iPhone to his pocket.

“Everything okay?” Sidney asked in that same undertone, and he nodded.

“Yes. I got some good shots.”

Even though he’d been speaking quietly as well, his voice was just enough deeper than hers that it must have been enough to spook the bird, since it spread its wings and flew away from its perch on the pine tree.

Her mouth quirked a little, but she sounded serious enough as she said, “Okay, then let’s keep going.”

They headed deeper into the woods. Ben thought with grim amusement that this would be the perfect setup for a murder mystery, since he had a feeling that a body buried out here wouldn’t be found for a long time, if ever.

But Sidney didn’t seem to be the murderous type, and even if she were, he’d told Mabel Whitaker about his plans, so at least people would know where to find him.

Here and there, they stopped so he could get more photos of interesting plants — mullein and copperleaf and salmonberry — and since Sidney seemed to know where they were heading, he didn’t question her about how far they’d gone into the forest. At this rate, he wasn’t sure if she’d even make it back in time to open her shop at noon, but he supposed that was her business…

literally. In a town like this, the residents probably cut the shop owners some slack if something unexpected came up.

“Did you learn your way around the forest from your mother and grandmother?” he asked when they paused to drink some water from the Yeti water bottles they’d brought along.

“Mostly my grandmother,” Sidney replied.

“By the time I was old enough to really get out here, she’d retired and had handed over running the pet store to my mother.

She always stayed in great shape, so she didn’t have any trouble going pretty much anywhere she wanted as long as it wasn’t straight-up rock climbing. ”

“Do you have many places for that here?” Ben asked, somewhat surprised. Yes, there’d been that rocky overhang the day before, the one that had provided them with some shelter from the rain. However, he hadn’t seen much in the way of actual cliffs or anything more than a steep hill.

“No,” she said with a grin. “At the far eastern edge of the woods, you start to get into the foothills of the Trinity Mountains, but that’s more than fifteen miles from here.

Even our most ambitious hikes never took us that far.

But we wandered around here a lot. My grandmother loved these woods.

She always said a crossing point like this one needed to be preserved. ”

“‘Crossing point’?” Ben repeated, thinking there must be something significant about that phrase, since he didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone say it before.

At once, Sidney seemed to realize she’d made a misstep. Color touched her cheeks — although he supposed her flush could have been merely from exertion — and she said quickly, “Oh, she just meant that migrating birds pass through here. That’s why we get a lot of bird watchers.”

On the surface, that explanation sounded plausible enough. However, Ben couldn’t help thinking there had been something more to her comment…a clue that might have something to do with the rumored white horse that had brought him here in the first place.

He had a feeling if he pressed her on the subject, she’d only retreat that much more, so he decided to let it alone for now.

While she’d been friendly — and obviously glad to have him as an ally in her fight against Northwest Pacific — he still guessed she was keeping her own secrets, ones she very possibly would never divulge.

Only time would tell, he supposed.

As they continued even deeper into the forest, however, he couldn’t help asking, “Are you going to make it back to work on time?”

Because she was in front of him, leading the way, he could see the way her shoulders lifted. “It’s only nine-thirty. But I stopped in and moved the hands on my little ‘be back at’ sign to one o’clock, just to be safe.”

Well, that was something. He had to admit he was surprised to learn it wasn’t even ten yet, because it felt as if they’d been out here much longer than that.

The forest seemed to thin somewhat as they walked, and Ben saw the reason why soon enough.

The pines and sequoias that had crowded on all sides appeared to be giving way to oak trees, huge magnificent specimens that appeared far older than Silver Hollow, their branches bright with fresh green leaves.

Rather than moss and ferns, grass grew underfoot, and he found himself letting out a breath of almost relief.

The woods were beautiful, but they could also be almost oppressive.

“I had no idea something like this was even out here,” he said, and she flashed him another of those incandescent grins.

“It’s kind of an open secret,” she replied, and unhooked her water bottle from her hip so she could help herself to a drink. “The trail is hard to find and it’s really off the beaten path, though, so only the most dedicated hikers ever make it out this far.”