Free Above the Bridge by Deborah Garner Page A

peering above the sage brush only slightly.  It was at this time that she felt the presence of someone or something nearby.
    Turning slightly to her left, she suddenly gasped, seeing the coyote that had been running loose on the side of the property standing not ten feet away.  Holding her breath, she watched him as he watched her in return, a quiet stand-off in silence.  He took a step closer, which caused Paige to gasp again.  She waved her hand quickly, as if to whoosh him away by suggestion, but this had no effect.  The coyote continued to face her, staring at her with small, puzzled eyes.  Finally Paige picked up a small rock from the ground and, in desperation, pitched it at the animal, though not hard enough to cause sizable injury.  She hoped only to scare it away.
    It worked, but not in the way she might have hoped.  The coyote jumped back at the sight of the incoming rock, brushing against some shrubbery and then bounding off in the direction of the house.  Paige watched with a terrified, sinking feeling inside her as the coyote raced around the corner of the front porch, crashing into a stack of old crates sitting just to the side of the house and causing them to fall over.  It then veered off into the fields and disappeared into the distance.
    Her heart pounding, Paige stayed motionless behind the large cluster of brush.  There was no sound from the house, but she could see the light inside quickly extinguish itself.  In the growing darkness, she felt frightened and vulnerable.  After all, she didn’t belong there.  She was clearly trespassing and she didn’t even have a decent excuse to give for doing so.  She didn’t even have one to give herself.
    Paige remained frozen in place, hearing nothing but silence for a few minutes.  Then, at the creak of the front door opening, she took advantage of the slight sound to flatten herself down on the ground, where she knew she couldn’t possibly be seen.  She held her breath and waited for what seemed like forever, until she finally heard the door latch shut.  Still, she remained on the ground, the smell of dust in her nose and the scratching of dry brush against her clothing. 
    Eventually she eased herself up off the ground and, remaining crouched down, moved cautiously from sagebrush to sagebrush until she found her way back to the opening in the fence.  She slipped back through it and quietly but quickly hurried down the road to her car.  Her hand shook as she inserted the key into the ignition, but after a couple false, nervous tries, she got the engine running and pulled out onto the road, making a hasty retreat to her cabin.  Here she parked the car along the far side of the building, rather than out in the general parking area, and then slipped inside the front door, Latching it shut, she sat motionless until dark had fallen completely.
     

CHAPTER FOUR
    Jake paced back and forth across the town square, frustrated and angry.  How stupid could he be, believing Frank the way he had? He was as much of a liar as his grandfather probably was, raising him on all those ridiculous stories of buried treasure.   His grandfather had pulled the wool over his eyes and now so had Frank.  He should have seen it before, but that only made him as stupid as the others.
    Pausing to lean against the monument in the center of the square, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, tapped it against his hand, pulled one out and pressed it between his lips.  With his right hand he patted his chest and then his hips before finding a book of matches, somewhat torn and wrinkled from being carried around in his pocket, but useful nonetheless.  He coughed a little on the first puff, just a reminder that he had quit smoking years ago.  But extreme times called for extreme measures.  He was just about at the end of his rope.
    Jake shifted his weight from one hip to the other, then leaned back casually again.  It wouldn’t help to appear nervous, he