Free Wild Ice by Rachelle Vaughn

weren’t even any other houses on the street. Except for…wait…the cottage. That’s where he’d seen her before! She was the woman he’d driven by on the way to the grocery store last week. He hadn’t even given her a passing glance when he saw her pruning bushes near the cottage. Seeing her should have sent up a red flag because he never saw people on his street besides the postman and the trash truck once a week. At the time, he just thought she was a caretaker or something. No, he didn’t really know what he thought—only that it was an inconvenience to wave back at her. The thought that she might actually live there permanently never even crossed his mind. Yet there she was, walking across his private property to get to some trail in the wilderness.
    When JD finally saw her through the window, he knew she wasn’t a hallucination. He knew he shouldn’t stare, but he couldn’t stop watching her. He liked the easy way she swung her arms as she walked. Her brown hair was long and she wore it braided down her back. The oversized hat hid her face and he found himself wondering what her face looked like. And what did she do out there on the trail? Did she pick wild flowers or hunt for ladybugs or something?
    As much as JD hated prying his eyes from the woman, Mel was a sight to be seen. There was his “man’s best friend” acting more like “woman’s best friend” while JD peered out the window like a love-struck teenager. Was Mel crouching? The big dog almost looked graceful beside her, mimicking the lithe way she walked. He was crouching or something damn near close to it. He was being careful as not to scare the birds away! Mel looked proud of himself and a little smug, which was unsettling.
    JD looked back at the woman and noticed that h er lips were moving. What was she saying? Was she talking to herself? Or the dog?
    As she walked into the sun, the shadow lifted from her face. She was pretty. In a natural no caked-on makeup sort of way. Were those freckles on her nose?
    The same as yesterday, she cut over toward the cottage and JD watched until she melted into the trees.
    The doggie door clanged and man and dog stared riveted through the French doors.

Chapter Eight
    The Fall
     
    As the sound of the creek grew louder, Lauren sped up her pace. Anticipation zinged through her body for what she’d find through the trees. Would the same egret be there fishing? Or would it be a snowy egret this time? Or a great blue heron? She’d seen the same egret there again but had yet to see him catch a fish. Would she finally catch him in the act this time? Would he be crouched low, hiding in the branches or would his neck be outstretched, poised and ready to pluck a fish from the flowing water? Hopefully, she’d get there in time to see it before it flew away.
    It was morning and the sounds of the refuge were lively and uplifting. There was much to be done in the bird world; food to scavenge for, hiding places to be found, predators to evade…
    Before Lauren reached the waterfall, her foot bumped something on the ground and pain shot through her ankle. She fell forward with an oomph and the air whooshed out of her lungs.
    The yellow dog blinked big brown eyes at her, confused as to why she was suddenly on the ground.
    After lying flat on the ground to catch her breath, s he dusted off her hands and assessed the damage. Behind her, a tree root stuck up out of the ground. Her foot must have caught under it and sent her sprawling. There were a few scratches on the palms of her hands from blocking her fall. She pulled down her sock and her ankle was tender to the touch. This wasn’t good. There was no one around for miles and she was a long way from the cottage and her ankle hurt like hell.
    Gingerly, she stood up and tried to put weight on her foot. She instantly yelped in pain. Then her ankle started to throb.
    Buddy yipped and danced around her.
    “I can’t walk, Buddy. My foot is hurt,” she told him.
    Ignoring