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  Laughing, he took my offering and smoothed out his nail before handing the file back to me. I put it back into my pack.

  “You need to be drinking,” I reminded him.

  “Oh yeah, right.” He grabbed a bottle from his backpack and guzzled for a few seconds. Then he peered over at me. “What do you know about that guy?”

  “What guy?”

  “The guy who thinks he’s in charge.”

  “If you’re referring to Lucas, he is in charge. Has papers and everything to prove it.” I wasn’t sure why I was defending his superior behavior.

  “Whatever. Is he from around here?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I think he goes to college somewhere else but he grew up around here.”

  “Weird hair. I mean, who has hair that’s all different colors?”

  I sort of liked it, but I didn’t defend it because I didn’t want anyone thinking I had a thing for Lucas. I wasn’t quite sure how to define what I felt for him. On the one hand, he was incredibly hot. On the other hand, he was older and seemed way more experienced than I was. The truth was, he intimidated me a little.

  “So what about you?” Mason asked, interrupting my strange musings. “I overheard you say you were from Dallas. This place is practically near Canada. What made you decide to work so far from home?”

  My gut said to give a flippant answer, but the whole key to effective therapy was facing my past and not hiding from it. Besides, I was still having some residual creepy feelings from the nightmare. Maybe I needed to unburden, and Mason seemed like a nice guy, someone who was interested in me anyway. I touched the braided leather he’d given me and said as quietly as I could, “My shrink recommended it.”

  “You go to a shrink?”

  I couldn’t tell if he was impressed or appalled. The kids at my school tended to think if anyone went to a psychiatrist, she was on the verge of going on a killing spree, so I never talked about it with anyone. At home I was much more closed off within myself than I was here in the wild. I felt more at home here than I did in Dallas. Given a choice between living in the city or in the forest, I’d choose the forest every time. Suddenly I felt a need to connect with someone on a level I never had reached before. I nodded at Mason and admitted, “Yeah.”

  “So what—you’re bipolar or something?”

  Okay, there it was—the negative connotation all wrapped up with a little bow. “Let’s just say I have issues.” And because he’d hit a sore spot, I continued tartly, “My parents were killed in these woods. My therapist says I need to embrace this forest in order to get past them dying here.”

  “Wow, that’s some heavy shit.”

  Obviously he had a problem discussing emotional matters, and whatever connection I thought I’d felt with him earlier had been totally misguided. Already I regretted opening up to him. “Yeah. I don’t usually tell people that. Forget I mentioned it. I don’t know why I told you.”

  “No, hey, my bad. I’ve never known anyone whose parents were killed. I mean, I just wasn’t expecting that. How were they killed? Wild animals?”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. Not that they died, but that you don’t want to talk about it. From the moment we met yesterday, I’ve kinda felt this connection with you. Really, if you want to talk, I’m here.”

  I gave him a hesitant smile. “Thanks.”

  “Sure. Besides, I’m safe, you know? You’ll just see me for a couple of weeks and then I’ll go away. Unless…” His voice trailed off.

  “Unless what?” I prodded.

  “Unless we get really tight on this trip. Then who knows? With email and text messaging, long-distance relationships can work.”

  Whip out the engagement ring already. “Whoa, you move fast.”

  “Just throwing out possibilities.” He leaned toward me. “I’m definitely interested in possibilities.”

  I was, too. Or I thought I was. So why didn’t I give him a wink and nudge him in the right direction? Why did I find myself glancing around as though I were doing something wrong? And why did I nearly come out of my skin when I saw Lucas leaning against a tree watching me?

  What was with this guy and his constant lurking at the edge of the group? And why in the world was I wondering what sort of possibilities he might hold?

  “We need to head out if we want to make our designated camp by dark,” Lucas suddenly announced. “City Girl, you’re still with me.”

  As a rule, I’m a team player—except when I’m not. I was still close enough to the village that he might send me back if I staged a mutiny. After tripping earlier, I couldn’t even argue that I didn’t need watching.

  I grabbed my backpack, shrugged it on, and trudged over to him. “Is it really necessary for me to walk in your shadow?”

  “For now.” He jerked his head toward something behind me. “Did you want to walk with him?”

  I knew he was referring to Mason. “Maybe. What does it matter to you?”

  “You get into trouble and all you’ll see is his butt as he runs off to ensure his own safety.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I’m a good judge of people. Mason is all bark and no bite.”

  “And I guess you’re all bite.”

  A corner of his mouth hitched up in what might have been a smile. “Depends on whether or not someone needs biting.”

  Before I could respond with something clever, his version of a smile disappeared and he said, “There could be danger out there. Stick with me for a while longer.”

  He was talking to me about danger? Did he not know my history? Why did he care anyway? Because I was the newbie? Or was there more to it? And why did I want there to be more? I considered arguing further, but everyone had gathered around and I was the holdup.

  I shrugged—as much as I was able to shrug with a two-ton backpack on my shoulders. “Let’s go, Boss.”

  FOUR

  “Werewolves? You really believe in the existence of werewolves?” I nearly strangled myself holding back my laughter as I asked the question. While I knew that in retail the customer was always right, I didn’t know if this mantra applied to the campers who had hired me to serve as a guide. In this case, they were definitely wrong, and I just couldn’t be silent about it.

  Several of us were sitting by the campfire with Dr. Keane. The rest of our day had gone pretty much like that morning: trudging through the forest, stopping for a break, trudging on. Until we’d reached this large clearing and Lucas had announced we’d set up camp here. It had been dusk by then. Now it was night and we were toasting marshmallows. Cliché, but oh, they were good.

  Dr. Keane had been regaling us with ancient tales about werewolves, which had been fascinating—absurd, but fascinating—and then he’d segued into talking about wolves spotted in the wilderness around here. Wolves he was convinced were, in reality, werewolves. He believed this particular national forest was their hunting ground, where they hid away from the real world.

  “Why is that so hard to believe?” Dr. Keane asked now, in answer to my question. He was sitting on a little folding stool, looking very professorial. All he needed was a red bow tie. “Every culture has a legend about man shifting into an animal shape. Legends are rooted in fact.”

  “I’m with Kayla on this one,” Lindsey said, sitting beside Connor. “Werewolves exist only in fiction. Look at Big Foot and the Loch Ness Monster. They’ve all been debunked.”

  “I don’t know,” Connor said. “Dr. Keane could be onto something here. There was a guy in my dorm that could have been a werewolf. He never shaved, cut his hair, or bathed. It was hard to call him human.”

  I bit back more laughter. Apparently none of us were taking his theories seriously.

  “But what if it is true? That werewolves exist and they inhabit this forest?” Mason asked. He was sitting on a log beside me. He was very particular about his marshmallows, toasti