Later, when she was clean and dry and curled up in a blanket on the guest-room bed, Max told her story to Logan. She wouldn't let him turn on a light, so they sat in the dark again, Max cross-legged in her blanket, whispering to Logan in his chair next to the bed.
She had crept out of the house to stand for a while in a pool of shadow, attuning her sight and hearing. Manticore training had taught her many ways to evaluate military sites, personnel, and terrain, but not very much about the nocturnal behavior of livestock. At first she believed the bellowing cow was right outside the guest room window, but quickly realized that cows were a lot louder than she had ever imagined, and their calls carried a long way in the still, clear winter air. The cry must have come from the barn, where David had shut the herd in at sundown.
Still, she wanted to check everything out. Recon completed, Max moved cautiously away from the house. She hadn't gone more than fifty feet when her ears caught the faint but distinct crunch of footsteps on the frosty grass, coming from the hillside behind the barn. Quieting her own steps until they were inaudible to ordinary human ears, Max moved soundlessly from shadow to shadow, eyes fixed on the barn. Though the moon was rising now, the hillside behind it was still dark.
Nothing except Max appeared to be moving.
Max stopped again to listen and this time heard only silence. Had it been an animal? No, she was sure it hadn't. Night maneuvers in the woods at Manticore had taught her how wild animals sounded in the woods and brush at night, and this was definitely not one of those sounds. There had also been a quick swishing sound she couldn't quite identify. Clothing? Sleeve brushing against body, leg brushing against leg? That didn't seem right, but it was the closest she could come.
She circled the barn, darting from hay bale to manger to fence post, always staying in shadow, until she was out of the moonlit area and edging along the far side of the barn. Just before the corner she flattened herself against the wall, listened.
Silence.
She moved away from the wall to look around the corner and as she did so something touched her left ankle. Stifling a curse, she tensed herself for a fall. Nothing happened. Then she heard a little cry and, looking down, saw a gray-and-white barn cat disappearing around the corner, a mouse limp in its mouth. "Good catch," Max told the cat approvingly. She didn't feel a bit sorry for the mouse. Just one of the little things feline DNA could do to a girl.
The cat disappeared into the barn and Max, back to the wall, turned the corner. Nothing in the dead grass behind the barn moved. No surprise, with two cats on the hunt, Max thought. Then a movement above her in the woods caught her eye. She froze.
A man stood in the shadow of a tree, his back to the barn and Max. As she watched he began to move up the hill, not very quietly, on a path that wound up through the trees into the darkness. Whoever this guy is, he's not professional, Max thought. He was loud, and his dirty tan clothing made him easy to spot in the moonlight. He was intent on something up the hill, never once looking around or behind him. Max smiled. Like the barn cat, she was going to make a catch tonight.
Staying to the edges of the path, she followed him easily. At the top of the hill, however, she swore softly. Instead of the moonlit hilltop she had been expecting, she found herself in an old apple orchard. Because the apple trees were so much smaller than the surrounding woods, and the moon was not yet high, the orchard was dark. For a moment Max could not locate the man, even in his light-colored clothes.
Then she saw him moving towards the far side of the orchard, still careless of noise or visibility. Under the low, bare branches of the apple trees Max followed him. He stopped just beyond the last tree, silhouetted for a moment against the night. Perfect. She waited a moment next to the last tree, then sprang.
She caught him, but they had been closer to the downward slope of the hill than she realized, and momentum of her jump took them both over the side and rolling downwards. Max held on tight as they bumped over rocks and bounced against small trees. When they stopped she would march him right back over the hill to the farm and find out just why he he was sneaking around out here in the middle of a freezing winter night.
They hit bottom and Max regained her feet instantly, hauling the man to a standing position by the back of his coat. She started to speak, but her words were drowned out by a second ear-splitting cow bellow. Started, Max jumped, and in that moment of inattention the man twisted away from her and began to run. Max turned to pursue, only to find her path blocked by a large black-and-white cow, head down, moving towards her much faster than she had ever assumed cows could move. She began to back away, talking calmly, but for some reason the cow seemed angry and the next thing she knew she was flat on her back in shallow icy water, the huge spotted face looming over her. Max rolled out from under the cow and sprinted back up the hill. The man in the jacket, of course, was long gone, and here she was tramping around out in the woods and falling into creeks in the middle of a winter night. And from the smell, she'd rolled through more than dirt on the way down the hill.
Disgusted, she returned to the house.
-------------------------------------
"Well," Logan said when she finished. He wasn't quite sure how to tell Max what he was really thinking, which was that her imagination was just as vivid as Maria's. The likely explanation for the night's events was, to him, pretty simple. The man was a homeless wanderer. There were plenty of them in the countryside these days, looking for a meal and shelter at any farm that would have them. David and Sam's barn was a warmer place to spend the night than the freezing woods. A drifter had found it a comfortable shelter for a few nights. A drifer who was smart enough to smoke outside rather than risk iginiting all that hay and old wood. Case closed.
"But that doesn't explain the cow," Max insisted when he told her what he was thinking.
"Easy. He let the cow out. Probably didn't mean to, but you said it was pretty pushy."
"Don't remind me," Max shuddered, more from annoyance than cold, Logan knew. With any other girl he would have been on the bed long ago, wrapping his arms around her for warmth, but Max, as always, was different. Despite her late-night swim, her body temperature had barely dropped. Her hands weren't even cold. She didn't need to be warmed or snuggled, and since he was in no position to climb casually on to the bed anyway, that was probably for the best.
"Look. I say we call it a night. We'll tell David first thing in the morning that he's got a cow on the loose and a stranger using his barn as a hotel."
Max slid off the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I don't know --" she began, moving to the windows to watch again. The moon had risen high now, and the yard was flooded with light. Everything was still.
Logan yawned. "If it makes you feel any better, we'll take turns watching. Go get dressed. You did bring something else besides pajamas, didn't you?"
"Right here." Max picked up her jeans and sweater from the heap on the floor where she had dropped them earlier that night when she changed into her "work" clothes, then slipped soundlessly out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. Logan sighed. The sight of Max retrieving her clothes was a fresh, sad reminder of what could never be. Of a night that could have been exactly the same, yet should have been so different.
In another life those clothes could have stayed on the floor all night.
Well. Better get moving. He needed to get on the bed and that still wasn't something he felt comfortable doing in front of Max, especially not with this old-fashioned wooden bed, much higher than what he was used to at home. But Max was gone for a long time, and by the time she returned he was not only lying down but sound asleep.
She had crept out of the house to stand for a while in a pool of shadow, attuning her sight and hearing. Manticore training had taught her many ways to evaluate military sites, personnel, and terrain, but not very much about the nocturnal behavior of livestock. At first she believed the bellowing cow was right outside the guest room window, but quickly realized that cows were a lot louder than she had ever imagined, and their calls carried a long way in the still, clear winter air. The cry must have come from the barn, where David had shut the herd in at sundown.
Still, she wanted to check everything out. Recon completed, Max moved cautiously away from the house. She hadn't gone more than fifty feet when her ears caught the faint but distinct crunch of footsteps on the frosty grass, coming from the hillside behind the barn. Quieting her own steps until they were inaudible to ordinary human ears, Max moved soundlessly from shadow to shadow, eyes fixed on the barn. Though the moon was rising now, the hillside behind it was still dark.
Nothing except Max appeared to be moving.
Max stopped again to listen and this time heard only silence. Had it been an animal? No, she was sure it hadn't. Night maneuvers in the woods at Manticore had taught her how wild animals sounded in the woods and brush at night, and this was definitely not one of those sounds. There had also been a quick swishing sound she couldn't quite identify. Clothing? Sleeve brushing against body, leg brushing against leg? That didn't seem right, but it was the closest she could come.
She circled the barn, darting from hay bale to manger to fence post, always staying in shadow, until she was out of the moonlit area and edging along the far side of the barn. Just before the corner she flattened herself against the wall, listened.
Silence.
She moved away from the wall to look around the corner and as she did so something touched her left ankle. Stifling a curse, she tensed herself for a fall. Nothing happened. Then she heard a little cry and, looking down, saw a gray-and-white barn cat disappearing around the corner, a mouse limp in its mouth. "Good catch," Max told the cat approvingly. She didn't feel a bit sorry for the mouse. Just one of the little things feline DNA could do to a girl.
The cat disappeared into the barn and Max, back to the wall, turned the corner. Nothing in the dead grass behind the barn moved. No surprise, with two cats on the hunt, Max thought. Then a movement above her in the woods caught her eye. She froze.
A man stood in the shadow of a tree, his back to the barn and Max. As she watched he began to move up the hill, not very quietly, on a path that wound up through the trees into the darkness. Whoever this guy is, he's not professional, Max thought. He was loud, and his dirty tan clothing made him easy to spot in the moonlight. He was intent on something up the hill, never once looking around or behind him. Max smiled. Like the barn cat, she was going to make a catch tonight.
Staying to the edges of the path, she followed him easily. At the top of the hill, however, she swore softly. Instead of the moonlit hilltop she had been expecting, she found herself in an old apple orchard. Because the apple trees were so much smaller than the surrounding woods, and the moon was not yet high, the orchard was dark. For a moment Max could not locate the man, even in his light-colored clothes.
Then she saw him moving towards the far side of the orchard, still careless of noise or visibility. Under the low, bare branches of the apple trees Max followed him. He stopped just beyond the last tree, silhouetted for a moment against the night. Perfect. She waited a moment next to the last tree, then sprang.
She caught him, but they had been closer to the downward slope of the hill than she realized, and momentum of her jump took them both over the side and rolling downwards. Max held on tight as they bumped over rocks and bounced against small trees. When they stopped she would march him right back over the hill to the farm and find out just why he he was sneaking around out here in the middle of a freezing winter night.
They hit bottom and Max regained her feet instantly, hauling the man to a standing position by the back of his coat. She started to speak, but her words were drowned out by a second ear-splitting cow bellow. Started, Max jumped, and in that moment of inattention the man twisted away from her and began to run. Max turned to pursue, only to find her path blocked by a large black-and-white cow, head down, moving towards her much faster than she had ever assumed cows could move. She began to back away, talking calmly, but for some reason the cow seemed angry and the next thing she knew she was flat on her back in shallow icy water, the huge spotted face looming over her. Max rolled out from under the cow and sprinted back up the hill. The man in the jacket, of course, was long gone, and here she was tramping around out in the woods and falling into creeks in the middle of a winter night. And from the smell, she'd rolled through more than dirt on the way down the hill.
Disgusted, she returned to the house.
-------------------------------------
"Well," Logan said when she finished. He wasn't quite sure how to tell Max what he was really thinking, which was that her imagination was just as vivid as Maria's. The likely explanation for the night's events was, to him, pretty simple. The man was a homeless wanderer. There were plenty of them in the countryside these days, looking for a meal and shelter at any farm that would have them. David and Sam's barn was a warmer place to spend the night than the freezing woods. A drifter had found it a comfortable shelter for a few nights. A drifer who was smart enough to smoke outside rather than risk iginiting all that hay and old wood. Case closed.
"But that doesn't explain the cow," Max insisted when he told her what he was thinking.
"Easy. He let the cow out. Probably didn't mean to, but you said it was pretty pushy."
"Don't remind me," Max shuddered, more from annoyance than cold, Logan knew. With any other girl he would have been on the bed long ago, wrapping his arms around her for warmth, but Max, as always, was different. Despite her late-night swim, her body temperature had barely dropped. Her hands weren't even cold. She didn't need to be warmed or snuggled, and since he was in no position to climb casually on to the bed anyway, that was probably for the best.
"Look. I say we call it a night. We'll tell David first thing in the morning that he's got a cow on the loose and a stranger using his barn as a hotel."
Max slid off the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I don't know --" she began, moving to the windows to watch again. The moon had risen high now, and the yard was flooded with light. Everything was still.
Logan yawned. "If it makes you feel any better, we'll take turns watching. Go get dressed. You did bring something else besides pajamas, didn't you?"
"Right here." Max picked up her jeans and sweater from the heap on the floor where she had dropped them earlier that night when she changed into her "work" clothes, then slipped soundlessly out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. Logan sighed. The sight of Max retrieving her clothes was a fresh, sad reminder of what could never be. Of a night that could have been exactly the same, yet should have been so different.
In another life those clothes could have stayed on the floor all night.
Well. Better get moving. He needed to get on the bed and that still wasn't something he felt comfortable doing in front of Max, especially not with this old-fashioned wooden bed, much higher than what he was used to at home. But Max was gone for a long time, and by the time she returned he was not only lying down but sound asleep.
