“Aye,” Daar interjected. “One hell of a storm.” He reached over and took hold of the door Matt was still holding. “I want to go home,” he said just before he slammed it shut.

Matt turned to Winter with a crooked smile. “You have some very colorful friends,” he said.

“First Talking Tom and now Father Daar.”

“Hey, I can’t pick my neighbors.”

Matt opened the front passenger door, and before Winter could put her foot on the running board to climb in, he lifted her into the front seat. She didn’t even squeak this time, but only gave him a smug smile as he softly closed the door.

Matt walked around the front of the truck and climbed in behind the wheel.

“Which way?” Matt asked as he reached over and finished fastening Winter’s seat belt for her.

“Toward town or straight up the ski slope?”

“We head up past Gù Brath, on the same road we took this afternoon,” she told him as he fastened his own seat belt. “Then we turn right on another old tote road two miles up. That’s when it really gets rough and steep. I’m glad you thought to buy a four-wheel-drive truck.”

He put the truck in gear, shot her a smile, and started them toward Gù Brath. “I own a mountain,” he reminded her, then said over his shoulder, “So, Father, did I hear you say a pine tree was cut down? It must be special for you to be so upset. Were you growing it for Christmas?” He turned off the paved driveway and onto the tote road. “Isn’t it a little early for someone to be stealing a Christmas tree?”

“It’s not a Christmas tree,” Daar said. “It’s…I…ah, I’m studying the genetics of white pines, and I was going to collect the cones for their seeds. But somebody cut off the top last night.”

Winter was impressed. She couldn’t have come up with a better excuse, though she wasn’t surprised by Daar’s explanation, considering all the time the priest spent at Robbie’s logging operation.

Daar was always begging for rides and asking questions about clear-cutting and regrowth. This was obviously a fib Daar felt comfortable playing out.

“But why would someone want to steal its pine cones?” Matt asked. “Is the tree a hybrid you’

ve developed?”

“It’s…I was…It’s…”

Winter realized Daar might not know such a modern term, and quickly said, “It hasn’t been genetically altered or anything. It’s just a naturally occurring seed tree for lumber. Lumbermen are always looking for really straight trees with thick trunks, as they make perfect saw logs for dimensional lumber.

Daar has been watching this particular tree for several years and hoped to give my cousin the seeds.

Robbie owns several thousand acres of timberland, and he has to replant the areas he cuts.”

Matt squeezed her hand and gave a nod. “So the real worry is that someone trespassed and cut down a tree he didn’t own, is that it?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Winter said. “As well as how that person even knew about that particular tree. Turn here,” she said, pointing at the narrow road on the right.

Matt turned, causing the truck’s headlights to close into a narrow beam as the overgrown path gave the illusion they were traveling into a rising, twisting cave. Matt let go of her hand and pushed the button that engaged the four-wheel drive, but before Winter could pull away, he again covered her hand with his to rest on the console. And he didn’t let go again until the trail really got rough and he needed both hands to control the sometimes halting, sometimes slipping truck.

“Is there a reason you don’t rebuild this goat path?” he asked, after muttering a rather colorful curse when the truck side-slipped on a steep outcropping of ledge.

Winter was holding on to the handle just above her door, and was turned around checking on Daar. “We usually make the trip on horseback,” she said. “Or by snow-cat in the winter.” She smiled at the sight of Matt’s scowling face illuminated by the dash lights. “And keeping it impassable discourages the tourists.”

“And Father Daar lives up here…why?”

“Because I like my privacy,” Daar interjected, also mouthing a curse when his cane smacked his own shin. “I don’t like people.”

“Really?” Matt drawled.

They rode in silence for another twenty minutes, the rutted path that had overgrown to nothing more than a trail taking all of Matt’s concentration. Branches scraped along the side of his new truck, and Winter winced when she heard a loud thud hit the frame.

“For a fancy truck, this thing rides like a damn donkey cart,” Daar said, giving a grunt as they came to an abrupt stop.

“Did you see that?” Matt asked, staring out the windshield.

“See what?” Winter asked, also scanning the trail ahead in the beam of the headlights.

“I swear I saw a cat. It darted into the bushes just beyond the beam of the lights. It was big and black, like that picture in your gallery. What did you call it? Gasser?”

“Gesader,” Winter told him, shaking her head. “But he’s not real. You must have seen a lynx.”

“Are lynx black?”

“It could have been a bear.”

“Do bears have tails as long as their bodies?”

“You didn’t see a panther, Matt. They’re jungle animals.”

“I’ve seen a dark, long-tailed lynx,” Daar interjected. “He’s a big one, too. He lives over on West Shoulder Ridge, but he hunts over here sometimes. He must be one of them hybrids,” Daar finished smugly.

Great, Winter thought. They were all going to hell for telling lies, and she would be responsible for taking a priest down with her. “The cabin is just a few hundred yards farther up the path,” she said.

“There’s a clearing where you can turn around.”

Matt moved his narrow-eyed stare from Daar to her.

“I’m sure Father Daar will make us some tea and toast, since we missed dinner and he’s so thankful we brought him home,” she continued. “Won’t you, Father?” she asked without looking away from Matt.

“Aye. I think I have an old loaf of dry bread and some tea left,” Daar returned, sounding anything but hospitable.

Without saying a word, Matt put the truck back in gear and slowly started forward again. And other than the occasional scrape of a branch, a person could have heard a mouse sneeze in the cab of the truck. Daar’s cabin came into view a few minutes later, and Matt turned in a wide circle that ended at the porch stairs. He shut off the engine but left the headlights on, and the silence became even more pronounced but for the occasional ping of dried leaves hitting the truck roof and windshield.

“If you don’t mind, Father,” Matt said quietly, “I’ll take a rain check on the tea and toast. I need to have Winter back by eleven, or her cousin is going to stomp me into the ground.”

Winter let out a relieved breath, grateful Matt was going to stop pursuing his panther sighting.

She unfastened her seat belt and got out, then turned to help Daar from the backseat. Matt came around and took his arm as they climbed the porch stairs.

“I’m sorely tired,” Daar said as he stood at his door and looked at Winter. “Ye promise ye’ll tell Robbie what’s happened the minute he gets back?”

“I promise.”

Daar looked at Matt and lifted his chin. “My manners compel me to thank ye, Gregor, for bringing me home.”

“You’re welcome,” Matt said, with a slight incline of his head. “Do you want us to come in and build up your fire?”

“Nay. I can tend my own fire.”

Winter leaned over and gave Daar a kiss on his bearded cheek. “Good night, Father. I’ll likely see you tomorrow. I’ll come up to help Robbie and Papa in the afternoon.”

“Nay,” Daar said with a quick shake of his head. “I only want the men.”

Winter wasn’t insulted. In fact, she was assured Daar was back to his cantankerous old self.

She patted his arm with a laugh, then turned and walked down the steps and over to the passenger door of the truck. Remembering Tom’s swordsmen, she warned, “You stay inside tonight, Father. You can’t help Robbie if you catch a chill. He’ll be up as soon as he can.”