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."
Chapter Eight
Chris and Greg Manning were riding in the backcountry, looking for a hiking club from San Francisco. They were only a day past due and that normally wouldn't cause concern, but this group consisted mostly of kids. They had started up the South Rim Trail, which by itself is twenty-seven miles long. But, inevitably, hikers miss the loop trail and keep on into the backcountry, hiking the Nevada Trail for many miles before they realize it.
"You ride pretty good for a girl, McKenna."
"So do you, Greg."
Chris rolled her eyes to the heavens, cursing Roger for making her take Greg along. Besides Bobby, Greg was the only other trained SAR volunteer in Sierra City, but they clashed and Chris would just as soon only use him in emergencies. Roger, however, thought otherwise. Greg was strong, a body builder, and he didn't hide the fact that he thought SAR was no job for a woman. When things slowed down at the end of summer, Chris planned a training session with Greg and Bobby and she'd show him just how qualified she really was. In the meantime, she had to put up with his sexist comments.
"What was Yosemite like?" he asked, ignoring her comment.
"Crowded. Busy. Lots of lunatics from the city."
"You must have fit right in," he said sarcastically.
"Oh, absolutely, Greg," she said just as sarcastically. "You would not have though. Neanderthals were pretty much extinct there." She gave her horse a nudge, breaking into a trot and away from Greg.
They stopped at dark, setting up camp along side a small stream. She radioed in while Greg collected wood for a fire.
"We're following tracks, Roger. It's got to be them."
"Surely they realized they were on the wrong damn trail and headed back," he said. "I told them about the loop trail three times, McKenna. Three times. How hard can it be?"
"I guess that means Matt didn't find anything?"
"Negative. They missed the cutoff."
"We'll start out at first light, Roger. We'll find them tomorrow."
"Yeah, well, if you don't run into them pretty quick, I'll have to call in air support from the County. I'm going to have about fifteen parents getting hysterical real soon. Call me when you start out tomorrow. I'll be here."
It was fully dark by the time they had the campfire going and water boiling for their dinner. Greg pulled over a downed tree for them to sit on and Chris stretched her legs out toward the fire.
"It's been awhile since I've been out at night," Greg said.
"Me, too. I like it."
In Yellowstone, Chris had often taken her time off to go camping, stealing a few days to get away from the crowds and hike into the backcountry to be alone. In Yosemite, especially during the summers, there were few days off and even then, it was difficult to find a trail that wasn't occupied by a hundred others. She didn't miss the crowds, that was for sure. Sierra City was a great place to unwind after eight hectic years at Yosemite.