THE TIME STAR Read Free Page A

perked up when she abruptly
remembered what had happened. "I almost forgot! He took off because of the
meteorite! Didn't you see it?"
    "Meteorite? Do you mean a shooting
star?" He shook his head. "No. But I've been inside all evening."
    "Well, you must have heard it! It
passed right over top. It sounded like a freight train." She snatched up
her suit, ignoring the ache in her side. "It showered sparks all over my
suit! See?"
    The man took it and examined it in the
firelight. Even from this distance, Waneeta could see the tiny spark holes.
Drat. The suit was new and now it was ruined.
    Still fingering the material, he said, "I've
never seen anything like this material before. It seemed to melt rather than burn.
How could you think you were going to be warm in it? And where's your gown?"
    Waneeta snorted unfemininely. "Gown?
You're not serious? Oh, you don't wear a dress under that." She watched
the man as he laid the suit back onto the chair to dry. "But it is made of
a new material. It only came out this winter. It's supposed to wick away the
sweat and reflect your body heat back to you." As manager of a sports
store, Waneeta had jumped at the opportunity to try out the latest sportswear
innovation. But now it was ruined. And two hundred bucks down the drain.
    "Perhaps we can look for your
meteorite in the morning," her host suggested, turning to arrange the suit
closer to the fire.
    "Thanks. And thank you for helping
me." She didn't mind spending the night here, and this guy certainly
wasn't giving off any creepy vibes. Not like that eerie feeling she had out
there by her snowmobile. She wasn't even sure how to describe that.
    But should she be assuming she'd be
allowed to spend the night? To be honest, as she always strived to be, she
really didn't mind being here. It was cozy and a heck of a lot better than
being outside leaning against a broken snowmobile. But she should get back
home.
    "Excuse me," she asked.
"You don't have a cell phone, do you?"
    The man's expression turned blank.
"No. Should I have one?"
    "It wouldn't be a bad idea out
here. I'd sure like to talk to my cousin."
    "We'll find out which way he went,"
the man answered, a vague note to his voice and a frown on his face. "There
are a few homes closer to the river, so let's hope your cousin found them.
Though I have no sympathy for the man for leaving you, I don't want him to be
stuck outside all night."
    That was true, and maybe it was poor
judgment on her part to go out tonight, with the weather forecast predicting
snow. But what was done was done, and couldn't be undone. "I'm not worried.
He's got the better machine and will probably go straight home, once he can't
find me. But I'll have to leave early tomorrow if you don't mind putting up
with me for the night. We're supposed to get more snow later on in the day,"
she said. She saw no radio or TV in her quick scan of the cabin, so it was
unlikely he'd caught the latest forecast. And with no cell phone to call
anyone-
    The man swung around, amazed. "And
how do you know when it will snow?"
    "From the weather channel, of
course. Well, up here, it's called a network, not a channel. Not that you'd get
cable service here. Or even satellite. My own cell service is spotty at best."
    "Channel?  Cells?" His voice edged
with gentle teasing, he noted, "There are plenty of deep gorges here,
especially along the Barren River Canyon, but I don't know of any channels with
prophetic abilities. Are you a student of nature?"
    Waneeta laughed out loud. Was he for
real? "No, but I've lived here all my life. When they say we'll get more
snow, you can be sure we will."
    He frowned. "Here all your life and
never heard of a camboose shanty?"
    "Well, you said yourself that a
lady doesn't have much to do with lumberjacks, right?" Of course she
didn't know any lumberjacks, except maybe some of Kevin's friends who went to
work in the woods straight out of high school. Still, this guy was so, well, gentlemanly.
So...old