Free Stutter Creek by Ann Swann Page A

even noticed the large paw prints, in the soft Earth, that led from the creek toward the cabin.
     
     
     
     

Chapter Eleven
     
    Even though she’d barely nibbled it, the toast and milk helped. Putting away the food and washing the skillet gave her mind something to focus on. Soon, Beth was able to blow her nose and put the sniffles away, too.
    “Bedtime,” she said to no one as she turned off the lights and went in search of the trashy gossip magazines Cindy had given her.
    “Might help you get your mind off things,” Cindy had said, stuffing the sack full of magazines into Beth’s hands just before she left. “You really should get yourself a laptop computer—”
    “I know,” Beth agreed. “But there’s no Internet at the cabin anyway.” She had accepted the sack of magazines gratefully. Then she’d added the legal tablet Dalton had suggested she take. He thought writing her feelings down might help alleviate the nightmares.
    That made perfect sense to Beth. She’d been taking notes in a spiral notebook for years. She wanted to write a novel. Having come from such a small family, she had always wanted to write a sprawling family epic. Something completely opposite of her real life. So she’d added that notebook to the pile of reading/writing material.
    At least I don’t have to be ashamed of my writing dreams anymore. Sam had always thought it was such a waste of time. Probably one reason I never took it very seriously myself.
    After washing her face, brushing her teeth, and banking the fire one last time, Beth slipped into her sleep shirt, grabbed the pile of magazines, and proceeded to catch up on the latest doings of Hollywood’s finest. She conked out so quickly she didn’t even turn off the reading light.
    About an hour later, the dreams began. She dreamed her father was standing beside the bed, waiting for her to wake up so they could go hiking.
    “Where we going, Dad?” her dream-self asked.
    Her father just smiled.
    When she awoke, tiny flashes of colored light were popping merrily around her face. “Dad?” she asked, still caught up in the dream web. “S’that you?”
    She thought she saw movement near the tall windows. “Dad?” Her voice was a bare whisper. “If that’s you, this isn’t funny . . . ”
    The spicy, smoky smell was heavy.
    The reading light was still on. Beth sat up carefully, tired of being awakened every night. Outside the window opposite her bed, a faint shadow shifted.
    “Who’s there?” Her voice was a bit louder. The shadow grew still. I’m losing my mind, she thought. I must be losing my mind. First the dreams, and the shadow, then the boy, and now more shadows, dear God! She leapt from her bed and flipped on the overhead light.
    All shadows were banished except for the one she herself was projecting. She waved at it to make sure it really was hers. And that’s when she heard something running across the long wraparound porch.
    Beth rushed to the window, but whatever it was had already made it to the woods. She could hear the sounds it made crashing through the underbrush. It sounded large and fast. This time, she was sure she had heard claws on wood. Raccoon, perhaps. A BIG one. She recalled that they sometimes got up to twenty or twenty-five pounds. Certainly no shadow, that’s for sure.
    Could it have been a small bear, a cub? They were pretty fast. At least she was sure it was some kind of animal this time. That meant she wasn’t going crazy, she wasn’t just imagining things. Thank God! Just an animal. Not another formless dream-shadow. Her breath eased and her heart slowed to normal.
    I’ll check for tracks in the morning . She was used to animals in the forest. In earlier years, they had sometimes seen bear tracks in the snow. But that had been many, many years earlier. The last time they had checked, when Abby was still at home, the park rangers said the bears had been gone from these parts for over a decade.
    Still, it was comforting to know