Year One Read Free

winter-pale grass under the skin of snow? Was it black?
    He didn’t want to go closer, didn’t want to see. As he turned away, he heard a rustling.
    The dog growled low in his throat as Ross turned to stare into the copse of old, gnarled trees edging the field. Something there, he thought with a fresh chill. He could hear it moving. Could hear a rustling.
    Just a deer, he told himself. A deer or a fox. Maybe a hiker.
    But the dog bared his teeth, and the hair on Bilbo’s back stood up.
    â€œHello?” Ross called out, but heard only the sly rustle of movement.
    â€œThe wind,” he said firmly. “Just the wind.”
    But knew, as the boy he’d been had known, it wasn’t.
    He walked back several paces, his eyes scanning the trees. “Come on, Bilbo. Come on, let’s go home.”
    Turning, he began to stride quickly away, feeling his chest go tight. Glancing back, he saw the dog still stood stiff-legged, his fur ruffled.
    â€œBilbo! Come!” Ross clapped his hands together. “Now!”
    The dog turned his head, and for a moment his eyes were almost feral, wild and fierce. Then he broke into a trot toward Ross, tongue happily lolling.
    Ross kept up a quick stride until he reached the edge of the field. He put a hand—it shook a little—on the dog’s head. “Okay, we’re both idiots. We’ll never speak of it.”
    His headache had eased a bit by the time he got back, and hisstomach seemed to have settled enough to allow him some toast with another cup of tea.
    Sure the worst was over, he sat down with the other men to watch a match on TV, dozed off into fragments of dark dreams.
    The nap helped, and the simple bowl of soup he had for dinner tasted like glory. He packed his bags as Angie packed hers.
    â€œI’m going to call it an early night,” he told her. “I’m pretty ragged out.”
    â€œYou look … hingy.” Angie laid a hand on his cheek. “You might be a little warm.”
    â€œI think I’ve got a cold coming on.”
    With a brisk nod, she walked off to the bathroom, rummaged around. She came back with two bright green tablets and a glass of water.
    â€œTake these and go to bed. They’re p.m. cold tablets, so they’ll help you sleep, too.”
    â€œYou think of everything.” He downed them. “Tell everybody I’ll see them in the morning.”
    â€œJust get some sleep.”
    She tucked him in, making him smile. Kissed his forehead.
    â€œMaybe a little warm.”
    â€œI’ll sleep it off.”
    â€œSee that you do.”
    *   *   *
    In the morning he thought he had. He couldn’t claim a hundred percent—that dull, nagging headache was back and he had loose bowels—but he ate a good breakfast of porridge and strong black coffee.
    One last walk, then loading up the car got his blood moving. He hugged Millie, embraced Hugh.
    â€œCome to New York this spring.”
    â€œMight be we will. Our Jamie can see to things around here for a few days.”
    â€œTell him good-bye for us.”
    â€œThat we will. He’ll likely be home before long, but…”
    â€œPlane to catch.” Rob gave his hugs.
    â€œOh, I’ll miss you,” Millie said as she pulled both women close. “Fly safe, be well.”
    â€œCome see us,” Angie called out as she got into the car. “Love you!” She blew a kiss as they drove away from the MacLeod farm for the last time.
    *   *   *
    They returned the rental car, infecting the clerk and the businessman who rented it next. They infected the porter who took their bags when tips exchanged hands. By the time they reached and passed through security, the infection had passed to an easy two dozen people.
    More still in the first-class lounge where they drank Bloody Marys and relived moments from the holiday.
    â€œTime, Jayne.” Rob rose, exchanged one-arm hugs