Chapter Six

Jessie stood on her balcony staring out at the lights of the city, her wineglass held lightly in her hand. She looked up, like she did nearly every night, trying to spot a star, even make out a constellation that she remembered from her childhood, but the lights of the city were too bright, like they always were. Her shoulders drooped and she let out a heavy sigh. Ever since Dr. Davies mentioned going back to Sierra City, she had thought of little else. She remembered chasing after her father down the hiking trails when she was barely old enough to walk, learning to tie flies on her fishing rod, learning the names of the trees in the forest, the birds, and animals. She remembered camping with him high above timberline, so cold, even in the summer, that she would shiver all night long. She remembered taking horses from the stables at the lodge and riding into the high country, so far back that it would have taken them days on foot. She remembered the waterfalls they had bathed under and the clear streams they had swam in and the many campfires they had sat around, him telling her stories of his camping trips with his father when he was young. How old had she been? Ten at the most?

What was she doing in this city, so far from the mountains of her childhood? She knew she would go back. Just the thought thrilled her. Before coming to New York, she had spent the first eight years in San Francisco but she hadn't dared go to the mountains. She couldn't imagine what it would really be like to step into the forest again, to look up at the giant trees. She wondered if Mary Ruth Henninger still rented cabins or if she had passed on? She wondered if the Rock House was still there. She had been too young back then to visit the bar, but she remembered an occasional dinner there. Then she thought of Annie and her heart grew cold. Her so-called mother, the woman who had never been there for her. The woman her father despised. She wondered if Annie even knew she was a writer now, a successful writer. She wondered if Annie even thought of her anymore.

She would go in late August, she decided. After the summer crowds had thinned. She swirled the last bit of her wine and allowed a small smile. It would be good to go back, she admitted. Just to soak up memories, if nothing else.

Chapter Seven

Chris parked under the small juniper tree at the edge of die front porch and walked up die steps. Before she could knock, Annie's voice broke the silence.

"I'm back here," she called.

Chris walked into the empty living room and glanced around, wondering where Annie was. She hesitated a moment, then went into the kitchen, leaving the bottle of wine she brought with her. She was just about to call out when Annie came from down the hall, drying her hands on the apron she wore, which was stained with paint. She greeted Chris with a smile and ushered her back into the kitchen.

"So glad you could come, Chris." She spotted the bottle of wine on the counter and picked it up. "Nice. But this was not necessary. I have plenty. On my trips to San Francisco, I stock up on wine. I have quite a cache down in the basement."

"Well, I wanted to bring something," Chris said.

"That was thoughtful, but you'll take this back with you so you can enjoy it another time. I should have warned you though, I don't eat meat. However, I think anyone can get by at least one meal without it. Even Roger."

Chris laughed. "I knew there was a reason I liked you. I'm a vegetarian, too."

Annie grinned and clasped her hand. "What a pleasant coincidence. Now, how about a glass of wine? It's been so long since I've had someone over for dinner, I'm afraid I've forgotten my manners."

Chris watched as Annie pulled two bottles from her refrigerator and held them for Chris's inspection.

"I didn't know which you would prefer. This is a lovely sauvignon blanc, one of my favorites. And a chardonnay. Both will go beautifully with pasta, so you choose," she told Chris.

"Let's do the sauvignon blanc then," Chris suggested.

They sat on the porch drinking wine while the casserole finished baking. Mountain chickadees were fighting for the seeds on a bird feeder hanging off the porch. An ear of corn in an adjacent tree kept the squirrels busy and two chipmunks were underneath the feeder, foraging for the dropped kernels. The hummingbird feeder was busy as well and they watched in silence as the tiny birds buzzed by. Chris enjoyed the quiet and took a deep breath, savoring the smell of the cedars and pines.

"You like it here?" Annie asked.

"Very much, yes."

"I could tell. The mountains aren't for everyone. Especially women. It takes a certain type, don't you think? One who's not afraid to be alone? I grew up in the city and only came out here for holidays and such. When I married Jack and moved out here, though, it was like coming home. I've never thought of leaving, Chris. Even in my darkest moments, I would never consider going back to the city."

"Do you have family left?"

"No, I've lost touch. There may be cousins and the like. In fact, I'm sure of it, but none that I know. I've been up here forty years, Chris."

"I guess this is home, then."

Annie nodded, watching the squirrels fight for the ear of corn. "You must think I'm a strange bird," she said quietly.

"No. Not at all," Chris said.

"Well, I've got my hobbies and my books. I do miss company, though. I usually talk Roger's ear off whenever he comes by." She stood suddenly. "Let's get that meal on the table. You must be starving."

She went back inside and Chris noted the way she almost floated when she walked. She was a small woman, still very graceful, just a hint of what she was in her younger days, Chris thought.

"This is delicious," Chris said after her first bite. "Dave is nearly starving me to death."

"I figured you ate there." She shook her head disapprovingly. "Nothing but grease, Chris. I doubt the Rock has even one meal with pasta."

Chris nodded. "I think he keeps a bag on hand just for me. It's always a surprise to find out what he plans to serve with it."

"Well, I insist you take leftovers home."

"Okay. But only if you let me help with the dishes."

"Deal. And we'll plan to do this again, if you like."

"I look forward to it."