"The wood's dry. It's better to cut dead trees, by the way."
"Environmentally responsible… I like that."
Tyler looked at him for a moment, lost in thought. "Yeah," he said.
"I'll remember that," Alec answered, though he had no intention of ever picking up the chainsaw.
"Anything else?"
"Room service would be great," Alec said, moving closer to the fire.
"Oh. I forgot."
He went out the front door and returned quickly with a crumpled paper bag. "Here."
Alec caught a brief glimpse of gold on Tyler's ring finger as he forced the bag into Alec's hands.
"What's this?"
"My lunch. I didn't eat it today. It was in the saddlebag, so it's a little mushed. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple. Not much, but it'll get you through the night."
Alec looked up appreciatively. "Thanks… for everything."
Tyler smiled. "You're going to love this place."
"I'm going to hold you to that."
"Goodnight, Alec."
"Goodnight, Tyler." He held up the bag. "And thanks for dinner."
Tyler gave Alec a wink before wrapping the scarf around his face and disappearing through the
front door.
Alec secured the door and turned, observing the empty cabin. He was quite sure the cowboy's
prediction would not ring true. But he would make the most of it. He was here to write, not for
vacation.
He sat down on the hearth, feeling the warm flames against his back. He removed the squished
sandwich from its cellophane bag and took a bite.
8
In the dream, Alec was running from machine-gun fire, tearing through the airport like O.J.
Simpson in the old Hertz commercials, trying desperately to make it to his gate before his flight
departed. And, as if he needed more incentive, someone was chasing him with an old-fashioned
Tommy-gun.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!
Those around him seemed unaware. No one cowered. No one screamed. The only people
