She stepped back and looked to the heavens, wondering when the last time was she had laughed out loud. Too many years to remember, she thought. But this was nice and she turned a circle, her arms held out, away from her side, letting this carefree feeling overtake her, relishing in the freedom she suddenly felt.

Then she wandered on, following the trail that she remembered, pausing at the meadow, thinking of all the times she had come here in the spring, running through the wildflowers, chasing butterflies, her father right behind her.

She shook her head. She wasn't ready for that yet. Today, tonight, she just wanted to relax. Tomorrow she would hike up Ridge Trail and remember.

Later that evening, she sat on her porch and waited for the charcoal to heat. Her steak was seasoned and ready and the opened bottle of wine sat conveniently next to her chair. Her mood had changed from apprehensive to dark, to reflective, to melancholy and to just plain content. A feeling she hadn't had in so many years, she hardly recognized it. And she didn't want to lose it now. She closed her eyes and listened to the night sounds. She was thrilled to hear an owl in the woods behind the cabin and she listened as its mate answered from farther in the forest.

The sounds of piano music drifted to her, coming slowly to her senses. She opened her eyes lazily and looked around, wondering who would disturb the night with music. But as she listened, the piano faded into the background, its soothing sound relaxing her as the owls again called to each other. The cabin across the stream, she thought, when she spotted a light through the woods.

Chris sat on her back deck drinking a beer and listening to the soft sounds of the piano. This music always put her to sleep and she yawned now, thinking she should turn it off before she fell asleep right here on the porch. She heard the owl call and looked up into the trees, wondering where he was hiding. She heard Dillon's low mew and chuckled. He, too, was looking into the trees, perhaps looking for the owl.

"You're too fat," she told him. "He'd never carry you off."

She finished her beer in one long swallow and went inside. She turned the music down and picked up the book she was reading. As always, she flipped it over and stared at the author, wanting to ask so many questions. Annie talked freely about Jessie now. Chris suspected that after all these years of keeping her feelings in, this was Annie's way of purging herself. She talked for hours about Jack and Jessie and even Jonathan. Jonathan was dead now, Chris had learned, but Annie didn't seem to grieve for him, not like she did for Jessie.

Chris read only two chapters then stopped, as she did every night. She didn't know why she was prolonging the book, perhaps because this was the fourth book and there were only two more published and she wasn't ready to say goodbye to J. T. Stone. She put it back on the shelf neatly and poured herself a glass of wine before bed. Dillon crawled in her lap and she stroked him, letting him fall asleep as she sipped her wine in the quiet darkness.

Chapter Ten

Jessie stood out on the ledge, looking across the canyon to the other side as the sun's rays broke across the mountain, hitting her face, warming her. She thought she would feel something here and was surprised when it didn't come. Sixteen years ago, her father had stood on this very spot. What had he been thinking? Was he thinking of her? Or was he thinking of Annie and how she had betrayed him? She would never know. Just as she would never know for sure whether he had jumped to his death or simply slipped after coming up here to do some soul-searching. She wanted to think the latter, but she knew in her heart that it wasn't.

This was the first time she had come up here to the ledge since they had found him. She had walked into the canyon the day she left, but she couldn't bring herself to come up here. Now, she looked around, hoping to feel something, wondering why she didn't. Anger. Sorrow. Something. But nothing came. She simply felt empty, like she had these past sixteen years. She sat down on the ledge and leaned over, looking into the canyon some three hundred feet below, imagining the spot where he laid. She couldn't remember exactly where it was, though in her mind she could picture him falling, no scream coming from him, just the resounding thud as he crashed on the rocks below, his broken body empty, her father gone forever.

She took a deep breath and let her tears come, as she knew they would. For sixteen years, she had not shed a one, not once. But she hung her head now and let the sobs rock her until she could cry no more. She sat there for minutes, maybe hours, as the sun rose higher in the sky and the tears dried on her cheeks. She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest and rested her damp cheek on her legs, her eyes traveling across the canyon, resting on the evergreens on the other side, unseeing. She felt sorry for herself mostly. All those lost years.

Jessie sensed a presence seconds before she heard the scuffing on the rocks. She lifted her head from her knees only slightly, surprised to find someone standing there, watching her.

"You're kinda close to the edge there, ma'am," Chris said, wondering who in their right mind would sit on the ledge like that, only a foot from tumbling into the canyon. There had been no sign-ins at the trailhead but that didn't mean anything. Not everyone followed the rules.

Jessie had half a mind to ignore the woman, thinking it wasn't any of her damn business how close to the edge she sat. But she was getting tired, so she stood up and stretched her back, realizing just how long she had been sitting there.

"I was a little close, I guess," she said to the stranger, looking over the edge and into the canyon one more time. Then she turned and easily hopped over the foot-wide gap in the rock and stopped in front of the woman. For the first time, Jessie noticed the Forest Service patch on the stranger's T-shirt and the radio strapped to the woman's hip. With an arch of one eyebrow, she allowed her eyes to travel over the woman, up past scuffed hiking boots, tanned, well-muscled legs, hiking shorts, and the white T-shirt tucked neatly inside. Her light brown hair was layered and wind blown, strands hanging over the blue eyes that looked back at her. Sexy. Jessie gave one of her most seductive looks and smiled.

"Who are you?"

"Search and Rescue."

Jessie grinned. It was just too easy. "And... who are you searching for?" Jessie asked quietly, stepping closer.

Chris was amazed at how well she hid her surprise, for there was no mistaking those nearly black eyes looking at her so intently. How many nights had she held the book and looked at them herself? The only thing different was the hair, now much shorter than in the picture.

"I'm looking for hikers that don't sign in at trailheads. It's a huge offense, you know."

Jessie teasingly raised both arms over her head. "Guilty. I guess you caught me then." Jessie met the woman's steady gaze, thinking how beautiful her eyes were. Blue. Blue as a mountain sky. She wondered how long it would take for this conquest. A little diversion from the unwanted task of seeing Annie; this woman would do nicely.

Chris was not immune to the flirtatious looks and gestures of J. T. Stone, but she sensed a complete lack of sincerity and she was much too wise to fall victim to that sort of seduction. And despite her fantasies every night, she never really believed she would meet J. T. Stone. But here she was, unabashedly flirting with her. Well, two could play this old game.

"Now that I've caught you, what in the world should I do with you?"

"House arrest?" Jessie suggested, her lips forming into a seductive smile. "Overnight stay?"

Chris crossed her arms and watched Jessie Stone for a moment, letting her eyes travel the length of her, much like Jessie had done earlier. Then she shook her head. "No. I think I'll let you off the hook this time. First offense and all."

Jessie was a bit disappointed. She'd been so close, she was sure. But the game wasn't over. She would be here at least a week.

"Thank you. I guess I should head down then. Want to escort me?"

"Can't. I'm heading up. Sorry."

Jessie shrugged. This woman clearly wasn't interested. And Jessie wasn't about to beg. The women in New York were so much easier. "Have a nice walk then." She gave one more lingering look, then told herself that the woman must be straight not to have taken the bait. Oh well, her loss.

Chris walked on up the trail, purposely keeping her back to Jessie Stone, refusing to turn around to watch. Only when she topped the next ridge did she stop and lean against a tree. She took a drink from her water bottle, wondering what in the world J. T Stone was doing up here. Chris was almost certain that Jessie had been at the exact spot where Jack had jumped. The ledge with the split in it, Annie had said. What's she doing here? Maybe to finally see Annie. Maybe to do research for a new book. Then her eyes widened. Maybe to do both.

Jessie passed the trailhead, her mind still on the woman she'd met on the trail. She picked up the pencil, thinking she would have just a little more fun. She wrote: Jennifer Parker. Out safely. It was gorgeous at the top... view included.

She smiled as she closed the lid on the box. She didn't doubt the woman would look on her way back down. She passed the dusty Jeep on her way to her rental car, assuming it belonged to the SAR woman. She paused, looking at the neat interior. It suited her, the woman with the wind-blown hair.

Opening the window on her own car as she drove, Jessie let the cool breeze hit her face, drying the sweat from her hike. It had felt good to use muscles that were dormant too long. And it had felt good to cry, she admitted. The hardest part would be facing Annie.