A Wedding in December

Her parents were both alive and healthy. She of all people should know that was what was important. And of course they’d sell the cottage. They couldn’t hold on to a house that was too big for one person, simply to accommodate the family a couple of times a year. Why did that make her sad?

Maybe it was because the rest of her life seemed unstable. She’d had relationships over the past decade, but none of them had lasted more than a couple of months and she’d barely shed a tear when they ended. She had friends she was often too tired to see because she was always working, and a job she wasn’t even sure she liked anymore.

Her whole life had shifted precariously. She’d been so sure about being a doctor, but now she was questioning that.

She thrust her hand into her pocket and dug out her phone.

She shouldn’t be thinking about herself. She should be thinking about her parents. Her mother must have been miserably unhappy, and presumably she was unhappy now. Why hadn’t she said something?

Katie waved her phone in frustration, looking for a signal.

Guilt crawled over her flesh as she remembered all the times she’d avoided calling home. Maybe if she’d been better at staying in touch, her mother would have found it easier to confide in her.

And what about Rosie? Rosie, who kept using their parents’ solid marriage as evidence that a whirlwind romance could work. Impetuous and impulsive Rosie, who still believed in happy endings. Katie had used that evidence, too, to reassure herself that her sister’s relationship would sustain.

Katie was going to have to tell her the truth. But not now, because her phone wasn’t working.

She put it back in her pocket and stood still, staring into the trees. It was only now, when she stopped trudging through the snow, that she realized how cold it was. Her breath left smoky clouds in the air ahead of her.

She started walking again, planting her feet firmly in the deep snow. The surface was scattered with pine cones and whispers of fir and the only sounds were the soft thud as snow fell from a tree, the call of a bird, the snap of a branch as the weight of its burden grew too much.

She came to a fork in the trail and stopped. A decision had to be made. Left, right, or turn back? Better to keep going forward in the hope that she’d see a sign.

She was surrounded by peaceful, scented forest. Snowy peaks rose above the tops of the trees and she could hear the rush of water from the river somewhere far down below. It was beautiful. So beautiful it was almost humbling.

She thought about London, with its streets choked with cars. When she’d first moved there she’d found the city exciting and energizing. Lately, she found it energy-sapping. Everyone was in a rush, in a crowd, in a temper.

Here, it felt as if she was the only creature on the planet.

She wasn’t sure what made her glance up, but she did it and immediately cla

shed with a pair of yellow-gold eyes.

For the second time in a month she knew real, gut-wrenching fear.

She was not the only creature on the planet.

What was that thing? It was huge. And it was looking right at her, and not in a friendly way.

Could she run in these stupid, cumbersome snowshoes?

Given that walking had been a challenge, the answer had to be no.

A moment ago she’d been freezing cold, but now she was shivering for a different reason.

Maybe she could sidle into the trees and hope he didn’t think she looked like something worth following.

She took a single step and the animal sprang down from the tree in a series of fluid, athletic leaps and landed on the trail in front of her.

This is it, Katie thought. This is how I die.

And they’d never find her body because no one knew where she was.

A familiar male voice came from behind her. “Don’t move.”

Relief weakened her knees. Never in her life had she thought she’d be pleased to see Jordan, but as he stepped beside her, she was. It took all her willpower not to fling herself at him. “What is that thing?”

“Mountain lion.”