Long Snows Moon (4 page)

Jameson clutched her heart. She was down for
the count. “Why? Why now, why now?” she sobbed.

The answer came to her in a Doc Jo Jo
wisdomism.

If you refuse to change, the world will
change you anyway. Clean house and assess your belongings
,
keep what you need and toss out the rest
.
Regret and
guilt are
wasteful, clutter. Refresh yourself. It is time
for renewal.

Jameson heard this, not with her ears, but
with her being. “I guess that was a long time coming,”
Jameson
whispered. She knew her sorrow sprung from the
hope.

Jameson composed herself and continued her
quest through the woods to find Moon’s owner. She touched the
locket around her neck. It was a matter of time until they would
meet again.

Jameson spied something on the trail ahead
and picked it up. She smiled, knowing she was going in the right
direction.

Her raven landed on an erratic branch. It
bent and bowed under the bird’s weight.

There is no hurry. She has much to
experience yet.

“You watched the entire episode?”

Facilitated and observed.

“Tell me what you’ve seen.”

Close your eyes and I will show you.

Chapter Six

Oddly, she was calm
in the face of danger. Devon’s life did not flash before her as she
heard it did in times of peril, instead it was her future she
considered now. Would she live to see her next birthday? It would
be her first birthday as a single woman in ten years.
He
wasted all of her twenties with their sham of a marriage. Devon had
been optimistic about her future of freedom. Now that freedom was
tenuous at best.

She waved her monogrammed hankie. One of the
dozen Trevor gave her last Christmas. Perhaps the bear would
retreat if she waved a white flag of surrender. Maybe the creature
would even let her live by virtue she was a Danforth.

Your name or social station bears you no
entitlement here.

Had the animal spoken or was she still
feeling the effects of her last drink? She must be smashed because
she was hyper-aware what the bear said.

I am Mudjewkeewis, spirit keeper of the
west
.

Its voice came from the wind, yet the air
around them was still. He studied her as if she was new fruit on an
old tree. Devon tried to scoot away. She became aware one of her
feet was missing its shoe as her frozen toes grazed the bear’s
shin. The fur was damp and not as soft as she imagined.

“Sorry!” she said, aware of how silly her
apology was.

Mudjewkeewis fell upon her, his breath hot on
her face.

Devon screamed, and pulled herself into a
fetal position, bracing herself for the shock of his bite, the
cleave of its claw. It did not seek her flesh. The bear cradled her
as if she were an infant. She was aware of the animal’s body heat
and his rapid heartbeat as she fainted. In all of her worries and
wonders of her own death, Devon Danforth never dreamed she would
die at the hands of a bear in the middle of the eerie woods.

When she regained her senses, she was still
victim of the bear’s grip. She slumped in its arms, sharing an odd
bond with her captor. She buried her head against its matted chest
and sobbed.

The bear rocked Devon, breathing its sultry
breath upon her face to stave off the cold. Her fear began to
dissipate as Devon realized she was dreaming. She stopped crying
and sought its clever eyes. She went along with her dream.

“Have you seen my dog? Her name is Long Snows
Moon. I have searched as much as possible but my ankle is sprained.
Maybe it’s broken. Do you know where she is? Did she survive the
fall?”

As the bear rocked her, Devon became relaxed
enough to close her eyes.

I know many things, my sister. I offer you
wisdom of the west.

Devon slurred, “I hope she’s okay. She fell
over the bridge. It was a hellacious fall. It had to be a hundred
feet. Moon, where are you?”

The creature you call Moon has led you
here.

“She has led me here?” Devon murmured. “What
do you mean? Why?”

The answers you seek are not contained
within a bottle. They are here within this land.

“How do you know about my drinking? Where is
my flask? Did you take my flask of bourbon, Dream Bear?”

We have much in common but your taste for
dirty water is not among them. Rest now, for soon your sleep will
end and you must reap what you have sown.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Think back to how you came be here in these
woods and you will understand.

* * * *

Devon was reborn, baptized by the dirty water
with a raging hangover as her penance. She awakened to raucous
pounding in her head. The mid-morning sun raked across her face and
pried open mascara-glued lids. She sensed Moon standing over her
and her disdain. Devon hid her unholy face beneath a pillow.

“I’m not taking you out. Walk yourself,” she
mumbled.

Long Snows Moon barked twice and dug at the
covers until Devon peered out with bloodshot eyes. “I mean it, I’m
not talking you. You have a dog door, use it.”

Moon barked in her face.

Devon narrowed her bleary eyes. “Moon, you
are mean.”

Moon barked again and bounced off the
bed.

Devon grimaced when she saw last night’s
vomit on her blouse. She was reluctant to glance at her bedside
vanity mirror, but her masochistic side prevailed. Her baby blues
were black and blue. Her make-up slid across her face as if molten
lava and she slept in her puke stained clothes from last night’s
party.

Moon found her leash and flung it at Devon.
She caught it and stuffed it under her pillow. Moon’s bark sounded
like a scream.

“You know I don’t feel well,” Devon groaned.
“Please go out by yourself, but first will you get me a soda
please?”

Devon was grateful when Moon obeyed. She used
the knotted piece of rope tied to the handle to open the small
bedside fridge. She took a soda can from the fridge and flung it at
Devon.

Devon caught it. “Thank you.” She sat up,
shielding her eyes. Judging from the glare through the French
doors, it had to be around eleven.

“Why did you let me sleep so late?”

Moon barked once and closed the refrigerator
door with her rear end. She bounced back onto the bed, burrowed
beneath the pillow, and dug out her leash. She shook it back and
forth, whizzing it by Devon’s face.

Devon snatched the leash. “Enough. You know I
am not fun when I have a hangover. I need something to perk up this
soda, a little hair of the dog, if you know what I mean.”

Moon barked twice and trotted to the balcony
doors. Devon scowled as Moon pawed open one of the doors and left
Devon to her own devices.

“You could get me a nip from downstairs. Just
a tiny bottle, what can it hurt?” Devon called after her.

Moon ignored her, hopped up onto Devon’s
favorite chaise, and observed a black bird as it sunned itself on
the adjacent chair. Devon chuckled when the bird strutted and
squawked as if speaking to Moon. Moon barked at the bird as if
answering. It seemed Moon spoke fluent bird.

Devon slid out of bed. Her bathroom was as
wide as a vault. She trudged up to one of the twin sinks to brush
her teeth. Devon stripped and studied her body in the mirror. She
was lean and toned and although twenty-nine, her face showed signs
of drinking. Although, her affluent lifestyle was conducive for
massages, expensive hairstylists and Botox, the effects of boozing
became obvious around her eyes.

“I look like a zombie.”

She grimaced and picked a twig from her hair.
“What the hell did I do?” Her nails looked like she’d dug a grave
with her bare hands.

Moon appeared her with leash in mouth.

“What happened to me last night?” Devon used
a nailbrush to scour her filthy hands. “I don’t remember anything
about the evening. What did I do?”

You drank dirty water and sang to the
moon.

“Dirty water? Who said that? Is someone
here?” She peered into her bedroom. It was empty. Moon was back on
the balcony with the bird.

“Dirty water,” Devon snorted. “Who calls it
that? That’s absurd.”

Moon stared back at her through the French
doors with a smile.

“Okay, I need to scratch Grey Goose off my
list,” Devon muttered.

She put on her running clothes and whistled
for Moon. Together, they descended the stairs. Devon stopped
midway.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Moon raced back up the stairs and returned
with her leash.

Devon snatched it from her and smirked.
“You’re not so smart after all.”

Chapter Seven

Moon dragged her away
from the estate. They jogged the three miles to Pine View Parkway,
the four-lane highway they would cross to their favorite path in
the woods.

When they reached the trail, Devon unlatched
Moon’s leash.

“One, two, three, go!” Devon called out their
usual game.

They sprinted side by side for a while. Devon
felt Moon’s fur on her thigh and the heat of her breath as they
raced. Devon took the lead for a second before Moon tore away
leaving Devon with a mouthful of dust.

She laughed and wiped the dirt off her face.
As if, she could outrun a wolf hybrid.

Moon waited in the clearing, looking as smug
as a dog could. Devon fell into a sweaty heap. She inhaled the
wintry air. Moon charged her and pretended to bite.

Devon wrestled with her pet until Moon chased
a squirrel. She reclined on the grass and stared at the sky. A
memory from the party tickled her brain. It was a dark something. A
something she drank into her subconscious, until she was
unconscious. Yes, it was that bad. Devon’s usual m.o. was to ignore
a problem until it went away, but this one was nagging at her.

Devon draped her arm over her eyes and
groaned as the memory came raging back. She was peripherally aware
of the raven atop a nearby tree.

* * * *

The party was a success, but anything Claire
Sommers-Danforth did was absolute perfection. It was Devon’s
mother, Analise’s, fiftieth birthday and of course, Claire had seen
to every detail. Champagne flowed from several fountains, as well
as served throughout the rooms. The buffet started at the front
door with delicious canapés and caviar and ended up in the main
dining area with beef Wellington. She grimaced at the carving
station display with all the usual barnyard favorites. Devon
avoided looking at the meat feeling the revulsion rattle her as she
watched the caterer slice into a quivering hunk of meat.

“Hell of a blood bath,” she whispered in her
mother’s ear. “I think there are a mother duck and her babies left
in the pond,” Devon teased.

Her mother looked radiant. Her honey-blond
hair swept up and she wore a simple cashmere skirt with a black
sweater to match.

“Oh no, we got them, too!” she pointed to the
serving line. “Duck a la orange?”

“Disgusting.” Devon hugged her mother. “Happy
birthday. Where’s Dad?”

“Thank you, honey. He’s over there with
Burke. They flew in for the night. They’re leaving in the morning.
I suggest you say your hellos and your goodbyes at the same
time.”

“Don’t we always?”

“Where’s Moon?” Analise asked.

“She’s waiting for me in the car.”

“Aren’t you staying? Come on, honey, there
are plenty of things you can eat, lots of seafood, some nice salad,
and fruit.”

“Right now I think I’ll have a drink.”

Analise scowled.

“I’ll have an olive or two in it. Olives are
nutritious, good fats, easy to digest.”

Claire appeared behind her and gave Devon a
squeeze. “There you are.”

Devon hugged Claire as she was made of
thorns. “Everything is magnificent. You have outdone yourself as
usual.”

“Your mother is worth it. Doesn’t she look
fabulous for fifty?” Claire asked.

“Yes she does. You both do,” Devon said.

“You beat me to it last month,” Analise
reminded Claire.

Claire draped her arm around Analise’s neck.
“And together we’re one hundred years young. Ooh, there’s Misty
Howell, I have to go mingle.” She kissed them both and sailed
away.

“Where’s Trevor tonight? Up to his usual
tricks?” Analise asked.

“Very clever, Mom, but remember, you picked
him for me.”

“Don’t remind me,” Analise rolled her
eyes.

“Don’t remind me,” Devon sassed, studying her
mother. “Are you all right? You sound as if you’re still sick.”

“I haven’t been able to shake this cold,”
Analise admitted. “I would have preferred to relax by a nice fire
tonight with a few friends, but you know how Claire is.”

“Oh, I know how Claire is, Mom,” Devon
stated, ashamed of her derision but unable to stop it.

“She means well, sweetheart,” Analise
chided.

“Does she?” Devon asked with a raised brow.
She headed for the bar before her mother responded.

She scanned the crowd for Trevor as she
ducked, and dodged kisses, hugs and hellos all the way to the
patio. Devon ordered a martini and a cup of water and perched on a
chair overlooking the expansive yard. The night air was brisk and
still. The party raved behind her.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked.

She didn’t bother to look up. “You know it
is.” She whistled and a few moments later Moon appeared from the
shadows. She hopped onto the adjacent chair. Devon held out the
glass of water for her to drink. Moon drank while holding Trevor in
place with her eyes.

“I need to talk to you,” he demanded.

“So talk,” she replied, putting down the
water and scratching Moon’s head.

Devon refused to look at him, but Moon held
him with her gaze. When Trevor placed his hand on Devon’s shoulder,
Moon growled and Trevor retracted his hand.