Probably better than most. He unloaded as she did, making quick work of setting up his tent a good five yards from where she set hers.
The deliberate distance might have been the reason for the smirk on her face, but he didn’t comment on it.
“So how’s it going with the bunkhouse?” she asked when they were riding again. “Or does that fall into the area of none of my business?”
“It’s coming along. I should be able to move in there real soon.”
“Your valley condo?”
“Everybody gets their space, that’s all.”
“I know how that is. Before we built the cabin, anytime I’d come home for a stretch I’d start to feel like I was sixteen again. No matter how much room they give you, after a certain age, living with your parents-or grandparents-is just weird.”
“What’s weird is hearing the bed squeak and knowing your grandparents are having sex.”
She choked and snorted laughter. “Oh, jeez. Thanks for that.”
“Makeup sex,” he added and made her choke again.
“Okay, stop.” She looked over, and her quick, full-of-fun smile arrowed straight to his gut.
“You meant it that time.”
“What? To stop?”
“The smile. You’ve been holding back.”
“Maybe.” She looked away, keeping those dark, seductive eyes straight ahead. “I’d say we don’t know what to make of each other these days. It’s awkward. Visiting’s one thing, and we’ve hardly been in the same state at the same time since. Now we live in the same place, deal with some of the same people. I’m not used to living and working in close proximity with exes.”
“Had many?”
She flicked him the quickest and coolest of glances from under the brim of her hat. “That would come under the heading of mind your own.”
“Maybe we should make a list.”
“Maybe we should.”
They wound through the pines and birch as they had years before. But now the air was bright and bitter cold, and what they thought of was in the past, not in tomorrows.
“Cat’s been through.”
She pulled up her mount, as she had before. Coop had a flash of déjà vu-Lil in a red T-shirt and jeans, her hair loose under her hat. Her hand reaching out for his as they rode abreast.
This Lil with the long braid and the sheepskin jacket didn’t reach for him. Instead she leaned over, studying the ground. But he caught a whiff of her hair, of the wild forest scent of her. “Deer, too. She’s hunting.”
“You’re good, but you can’t tell what sex the cat is by the tracks.”
“Just playing the odds.” All business now, she straightened in the saddle, those eyes keen as they scanned. “Lots of scratches on the trees. It’s her area. We caught her on camera a few times before it went down. She’s young. I’d say she hasn’t had her mating season yet.”
“So we’re tracking a virgin cougar.”
“She’s probably about a year.” Lil continued on, slowly now. “Subadult, just beginning to venture out without her mother. She lacks experience. I could get lucky with her. She’s just what I’m looking for. She might be a descendant of the one I saw all those years ago. Maybe Baby’s cousin.”
“Baby.”
“The cougar at the refuge. I found him and his littermates in this sector. It’d be interesting if their mothers were littermates.”
“I’m sure there’s family resemblance.”
“DNA, Coop, the same as cops use. It’s an interest of mine. How they range, cross paths, come together to mate. How the females might be drawn back to their old lairs, birthplaces. It’s interesting.”
She stopped again, on the verge of the grassland. “Deer, elk, buffalo. It’s like a smorgasbord,” she said, gesturing at the tracks in the snow. “Which is why I might get lucky.”
She swung off the horse and approached a rough wood box. Coop heard her muttering and cursing as he tethered his own horse. “The camera’s not broken.” She picked a smashed padlock out of the snow. “And it wasn’t the weather or the fauna. Some joker.” She shoved the broken lock in her pocket and crouched to open the top of the box.
“Playing tricks. Smash the lock, open it up, and turn off the camera.”
Coop studied the box, the camera in it. “How much does one of those run?”
“This one? About six hundred. And yeah, I don’t know why he didn’t take it either. Just screwing around.”
Maybe, Coop thought. But it had gotten her up here, and would’ve gotten her up here alone if he hadn’t impulsively come along.
He wandered away as she reset the camera, then called her base on her radio phone.
He couldn’t track or read signs with her skill, no point in pretending otherwise. But he could see the boot prints, coming and going. Crossing the grassland, going into the trees on the other side.
From the size of the boot, the length of the stride, he’d estimate the vandal-if that’s what he was-at about six feet, with a boot size between ten and twelve. But he’d need more than eyeballing to be sure he was even in the ballpark.
He scanned the flatland, the trees, the brush, the rocks. There was, he knew, a lot of backcountry, some park, some private. A lot of places someone could camp without crossing paths with anyone else.
Cats weren’t the only species who stalked and ambushed.
“Camera’s back up.” She studied the tracks as Cooper had. “He’s at home up here,” she commented, then turned to walk to a weathered green tarp staked to the ground. “I hope he didn’t mess with the cage.”
She unhooked the tarp, flung it back. The cage was intact, but for the door she’d packed on the horse. “We remove the door, just in case somebody tries to use it, or an animal’s curious enough to get in, then can’t get out. I leave one up here because I’ve had luck in this section. Easier than hauling the cage up every time. Not much human traffic up here through the winter.”
She jerked her chin. “He came from the same direction we did, on foot, at least for the last half mile.”
“I got that much myself. From behind the camera.”
“I guess he’s shy. Since you’re here, you might as well help me set this up.”
The deliberate distance might have been the reason for the smirk on her face, but he didn’t comment on it.
“So how’s it going with the bunkhouse?” she asked when they were riding again. “Or does that fall into the area of none of my business?”
“It’s coming along. I should be able to move in there real soon.”
“Your valley condo?”
“Everybody gets their space, that’s all.”
“I know how that is. Before we built the cabin, anytime I’d come home for a stretch I’d start to feel like I was sixteen again. No matter how much room they give you, after a certain age, living with your parents-or grandparents-is just weird.”
“What’s weird is hearing the bed squeak and knowing your grandparents are having sex.”
She choked and snorted laughter. “Oh, jeez. Thanks for that.”
“Makeup sex,” he added and made her choke again.
“Okay, stop.” She looked over, and her quick, full-of-fun smile arrowed straight to his gut.
“You meant it that time.”
“What? To stop?”
“The smile. You’ve been holding back.”
“Maybe.” She looked away, keeping those dark, seductive eyes straight ahead. “I’d say we don’t know what to make of each other these days. It’s awkward. Visiting’s one thing, and we’ve hardly been in the same state at the same time since. Now we live in the same place, deal with some of the same people. I’m not used to living and working in close proximity with exes.”
“Had many?”
She flicked him the quickest and coolest of glances from under the brim of her hat. “That would come under the heading of mind your own.”
“Maybe we should make a list.”
“Maybe we should.”
They wound through the pines and birch as they had years before. But now the air was bright and bitter cold, and what they thought of was in the past, not in tomorrows.
“Cat’s been through.”
She pulled up her mount, as she had before. Coop had a flash of déjà vu-Lil in a red T-shirt and jeans, her hair loose under her hat. Her hand reaching out for his as they rode abreast.
This Lil with the long braid and the sheepskin jacket didn’t reach for him. Instead she leaned over, studying the ground. But he caught a whiff of her hair, of the wild forest scent of her. “Deer, too. She’s hunting.”
“You’re good, but you can’t tell what sex the cat is by the tracks.”
“Just playing the odds.” All business now, she straightened in the saddle, those eyes keen as they scanned. “Lots of scratches on the trees. It’s her area. We caught her on camera a few times before it went down. She’s young. I’d say she hasn’t had her mating season yet.”
“So we’re tracking a virgin cougar.”
“She’s probably about a year.” Lil continued on, slowly now. “Subadult, just beginning to venture out without her mother. She lacks experience. I could get lucky with her. She’s just what I’m looking for. She might be a descendant of the one I saw all those years ago. Maybe Baby’s cousin.”
“Baby.”
“The cougar at the refuge. I found him and his littermates in this sector. It’d be interesting if their mothers were littermates.”
“I’m sure there’s family resemblance.”
“DNA, Coop, the same as cops use. It’s an interest of mine. How they range, cross paths, come together to mate. How the females might be drawn back to their old lairs, birthplaces. It’s interesting.”
She stopped again, on the verge of the grassland. “Deer, elk, buffalo. It’s like a smorgasbord,” she said, gesturing at the tracks in the snow. “Which is why I might get lucky.”
She swung off the horse and approached a rough wood box. Coop heard her muttering and cursing as he tethered his own horse. “The camera’s not broken.” She picked a smashed padlock out of the snow. “And it wasn’t the weather or the fauna. Some joker.” She shoved the broken lock in her pocket and crouched to open the top of the box.
“Playing tricks. Smash the lock, open it up, and turn off the camera.”
Coop studied the box, the camera in it. “How much does one of those run?”
“This one? About six hundred. And yeah, I don’t know why he didn’t take it either. Just screwing around.”
Maybe, Coop thought. But it had gotten her up here, and would’ve gotten her up here alone if he hadn’t impulsively come along.
He wandered away as she reset the camera, then called her base on her radio phone.
He couldn’t track or read signs with her skill, no point in pretending otherwise. But he could see the boot prints, coming and going. Crossing the grassland, going into the trees on the other side.
From the size of the boot, the length of the stride, he’d estimate the vandal-if that’s what he was-at about six feet, with a boot size between ten and twelve. But he’d need more than eyeballing to be sure he was even in the ballpark.
He scanned the flatland, the trees, the brush, the rocks. There was, he knew, a lot of backcountry, some park, some private. A lot of places someone could camp without crossing paths with anyone else.
Cats weren’t the only species who stalked and ambushed.
“Camera’s back up.” She studied the tracks as Cooper had. “He’s at home up here,” she commented, then turned to walk to a weathered green tarp staked to the ground. “I hope he didn’t mess with the cage.”
She unhooked the tarp, flung it back. The cage was intact, but for the door she’d packed on the horse. “We remove the door, just in case somebody tries to use it, or an animal’s curious enough to get in, then can’t get out. I leave one up here because I’ve had luck in this section. Easier than hauling the cage up every time. Not much human traffic up here through the winter.”
She jerked her chin. “He came from the same direction we did, on foot, at least for the last half mile.”
“I got that much myself. From behind the camera.”
“I guess he’s shy. Since you’re here, you might as well help me set this up.”
