10 - Fresh Tracks

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The rain kept up. After the grocery store, I drove us home. We arrived at the cabin as the last light of day began to fade. My turnoff to the cabin was a mile-long private lane leading up the tree-covered mountain. No other dwellings could be accessed from the lane, so there was no reason for anyone to trespass. The lane was also unimproved; heavy rains always turned it into a muddy mess.

Sophie was napping, her head resting against the seat back.

I saw tire ruts in the mud leading up to the cabin, tire tracks that weren't mine. My immediate thought went to Sophie. Someone was looking for her. My cabin was closest to the abandoned road where I found her, so it made sense. I decided to not wake her and actually welcomed a confrontation with whomever was after her to resolve the situation. I also swore I wouldn't let anyone take Sophie against her will, even if it was someone claiming to be her husband.

Gripping the steering wheel, I went on alert, heightening my situational awareness. The cabin came into view. No other vehicles. Had someone come and gone? I wouldn't know until I had a chance to more closely inspect the tire ruts.

Not wanting to alarm Sophie unnecessarily, I parked the truck with her door close to the front door of the cabin. She woke when I shut off the engine.

I had the perfect excuse to get her to move quickly. "Dash straight inside so you don't get your new clothes wet. I'll bring in the packages."

She yawned and nodded and did as I asked.

I got out and stooped to get a closer look at the ruts. I had purposefully driven, hugging the side of my lane so as not to obscure the strange tracks. From the two opposite tread patterns, it looked like the visitor had come and then gone. To be certain, I walked around the cabin.

Underneath the bedroom window, I discovered boot prints. The visitor had been looking through windows. How was I going to play this discovery with Sophie? I needed to make her aware without terrifying her.

Carting all our purchases into the cabin, I found her putting away the groceries. She knew exactly where everything went as if she had lived in my cabin her entire life. I started a fire in the wood stove. When we both finished our chores, she joined me in the living room, and we took our now familiar seats side-by-side on the sofa.

In a matter-of-fact tone, I asked, "Have you ever handled a firearm?"

She shrugged.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

She picked her pad off the end table. I shot at groundhogs when they infested our hayfield.

Interesting. Her response revealed she had grown up on a farm.

"Are you a good shot?"

She wore a questioning expression.

"Just so you're aware, I carry a handgun in the truck's glovebox. In the bedroom closet, leaning against the back wall, behind my clothes there's a shotgun, a deer rifle, and a big box of ammo for both."

On her pad, Sophie drew a big question mark. She showed it to me and cocked her head.

"I'll protect you when I'm here, but I need to know you can protect yourself when I'm not."

She slid farther away from me on the sofa while simultaneously shaking her head no.

"Sophie, this time of year I go to work in the dark and I come home in the dark. Nobody is supposed to visit, but what happens if someone does? What happens if it's the person or persons you fear?"

She wrote: I could never take the life of another human.

"Even if it comes down to you or them?"

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