Gerri Hill - Sierra City

She smiled at the memory, not thinking it odd at all that Dillon remained her closest friend after eight years. She looked up at the trees and sighed. No sense getting all sentimental and emotional now. Still wouldn't change the outcome.

She turned and made the return trip to the cabin, pausing beside the deck for a second. It was charming. Nothing like the cabins in Yosemite, built right on top of each other in little clusters. This would be almost like a home, something she hadn't had in years.

Chapter Two

Roger had his back to the door pointing to the large trail map tacked to the wall, two hikers listening intently. Chris nodded at Kay, then walked to the counter to listen.

"Once you come to the first fork, Ridge Trail veers to the left. It's very steep and I wouldn't recommend it this late in the day. Take the Lake Trail cutoff. It's only about two miles round trip, easy walking and you'll end up right back at the trailhead, provided you don't miss the turn."

Chris smiled. She hadn't seen Roger in nearly ten years and they had spoken only a handful of times over those years, but it was as if no time had passed at all. His hair was still sandy blond, kept a little too long. His moustache still blended with a few days' stubble and he was still shorter than she was.

As if sensing her presence, he turned, surprise evident in his eyes.

"McKenna?"

"Hello, Roger," she drawled, offering him her hand. He took it, then grabbed her in a bear hug.

"My God, McKenna, you look great!"

"Well, finally lost my baby fat," she said, patting her flat stomach. When she had known Roger, she had been at least fifteen pounds heavier. He, too, looked to be in great shape.

"What happened to your beer gut?"

"Took up jogging, if you can believe that," he said and they laughed. "Damn good to see you, McKenna. Glad I didn't have to call out the volunteer SAR team to find you."

"Your directions sucked, Roger."

"Just testing your tracking skills, McKenna." He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulder and led her behind the counter. "Come on back. Let's catch up a bit. Kay told me you came by and she sent you to the cabin."

"I needed a shower. And Roger, the cabin is great. Thanks." She took the seat he motioned her to in front of his desk.

"Small, but private. I thought you'd like it." He leaned back in his chair and comfortably rested folded hands behind his head and studied her.

"What?"

"Never thought you'd leave Yosemite."

"I never thought I would, either. But it got too crowded and busy for me. Every damn weekend was like Fourth of July in Yellowstone."

Roger leaned forward then, resting his arms on the cluttered desk before him. "Won't have that problem here, although we get more crowded every year. Tahoe is no longer a sleepy little village and folks wanting peace and quiet hear about Sierra City. They tell two friends and so on. I've been here six years, McKenna, and they've only allowed me one more position in that time. Wouldn't be getting SAR now if those three skiers hadn't gotten lost and died this spring. Hell, we had two goddammed volunteers and me looking for them."

"Sorry, Roger."

"Yeah. But it happens. What I'm saying is, don't think you're going to be strictly SAR. We all wear a lot of hats here. Although I remember your aversion to being a tour guide."

A comfortable silence followed while they looked each other over, then identical smiles touched their faces.

"I've missed you," she said.

"Hell, me too." Then he leaned forward. "Remember that old bar in Gardiner, just across the Wyoming border?"

"Oh, yeah," she nodded. "That's where you taught me to drink."

"My ass. You could drink me under the table. We've got the Rock House Cafe here. The Rock, as the locals call it, is the only bar in town. Let me buy you a cold beer. Maybe we'll stay long enough for dinner. They've got great steaks."

"You're on, but... I'll have to skip the steaks. I'm a vegetarian," she told him.

"McKenna? A vegetarian? What the hell is wrong with you?"

She laughed. "Some woman turned me on to it awhile back."

"No doubt. And was this woman someone special?" he asked with a grin.

"She was," Chris agreed.

"But not anymore?"

Chris didn't answer for a moment, not really wanting to bring up all that old baggage. It had been so long, anyway. But Roger was Roger and she remembered when he had helped her through her very first breakup, only a few months after she had met him. She looked up and met his eyes, knowing he was remembering that, too.

"It's been eight years," she finally said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Bad breakup?"

Chris laughed. "I made a total ass of myself," she said. "Damn near chased her to San Francisco."

Roger laughed, too. "If I remember, McKenna, you were always the one being chased."

"Yeah, well, I was in love," she said dramatically. She scratched a nonexistent itch on the back of her neck before continuing.

"Actually, she decided she liked men better. Talk about a blow to your ego," she said.

"Sorry, McKenna."

She shrugged. "Well, this particular man was the only child of a millionaire father. Who could blame her?" she said sarcastically.

"Women are fickle," Roger murmured. "Who needs them."

Chris smiled. "That mean you're single?"

Roger grinned. "Hell, no. Got me a woman here in town. I was just trying to make you feel better."

"Thanks a lot. I think I'll take you up on that beer now."

"Sure. And we'll see if Dave can whip something up for you."

Chapter Three

She rushed in, barely pausing at the receptionist's desk on her way past.

"She ready?"

"Yes, Ms. Stone, she's been waiting."

Jessie knocked lightly on the door, then stuck her head inside, smiling apologetically at her therapist.

"Jessie. Come in." Dr. Davies's smile was brief. "You're late. Again," she added.

"Sorry, Doc. I couldn't break away."

Jessie tossed her purse on the opposite chair before sitting. After all these months, she was still nervous whenever she visited Dr. Davies. Whenever she managed to keep her appointment, that is. It was supposed to get easier, she was told, but there was just something about facing her week after week, knowing the good doctor knew all the intimate details of her life. Well, those she would share, anyway.

"You missed last week. Again." Dr. Davies leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. "I was worried. After our session the last time, you seemed upset."

"I always seem upset." Jessie sat back in her chair, her ankle resting casually on her knee and she absently twirled the string of her black Reeboks. "I'm just trying to wrap up the book. I get so involved, days just pass by. You know how it is."

"So you haven't given thought to what I suggested?"

Jessie swallowed nervously, her eyes moving quickly around the room, bouncing off the now familiar paintings and prints that adorned the walls, lighting everywhere except on her therapist.

"I can see you have," Dr. Davies said quietly.

"No. I just can't see myself going back to Sierra City after all this time. I might very well end up as a character in one of my books."

Dr. Davies laughed lightly. "You already are a character in one of your books. Several times over, I think." She paused before continuing. "You've been coming to me for nearly two years, Jessie. I hate to admit it, but we've made little progress. Perhaps confronting your mother..."

"She's not my mother," Jessie spat.

"I'm sorry. Annie. I think if you would go back, confront her, talk to her, get some sort of closure on that part of your life, then we can go forward from there."

Jessie stared at her, unblinking, then let her eyes slide away. Six therapists in the last five years and all but one had suggested she go back to see .. her. Then Jessie wryly flicked her eyes to the ceiling. Of course, the lone dissenter had suggested Jessie see a psychiatrist, hinting at hospitalization, shortly after she had read Jessie's latest book and its graphic depiction of murder.