According to Legend (3 page)

Starting my car, I sat there in the dark parking lot of the diner, unable to force myself to put it into gear. I scanned the lot, checked out all the other cars. No black van. I was holding the wheel so tight, my hands started to sweat.
This is ridiculous
. I put the car in drive and inched toward the road. Stopping at the edge of the driveway, I looked to the right, then to the left. Still no black van. In fact, there was no traffic at all.

I’m being paranoid and acting like an idiot. There is nothing to be afraid of.
Headlights flashed in my rearview mirror as a car approached from behind me.
I’m being foolish, finding danger in every shadow. Just go home, get the credit cards, and grab a hotel room for the night. Everything will look better in the morning.
I headed toward home.

It was late by the time I turned onto the street where I lived. Everything appeared to be normal on the quiet little road, but I didn’t feel safe. I expected to be ambushed as I entered the house, but I had to get those credit cards. After locking the deadbolt, I headed toward the living room to where I hid my credit cards. The events of the day played through my mind. I was so worried about Mrs. Warren that I felt sick to my stomach. I thought about calling the police, but what could I really tell them? That a gypsy woman had given me a dream catcher and disappeared? That I was followed after leaving the museum? That I had a disturbing telephone conversation with the elderly and eccentric curator of the museum? What did it all mean? Was I just imagining it all?

Without turning on any of the lights, I went into the living room and sank into the oversized chair in front of the dark, cold fireplace, exhausted. The sound of thunder rumbled low in the distance.

I put my hand in the pocket of my jacket and touched the dream catcher. Feeling its magic tingle on my fingers, my mind became clouded as I was drawn toward sleep. My eyelids were so heavy. I grasped onto the edge of consciousness.

“Takshawee . . . come to me . . . I am waiting for you.”
His deep voice beckoned as I drifted off to sleep.

The heat of the fire warmed my back. My eyes were closed but I knew I was lying naked, wrapped in furs. Slowly opening my eyes, I found myself looking up into the depths of his dark gaze.

“Help me, Running Wolf,” I whispered.

His handsome face smiled down at me. “Takshawee, my love, what troubles you?”

I touched his face, then he drew me into his arms, holding me gently while he planted soft kisses in my hair. His lips traced a line of hot kisses along my jaw line. He held my face between his hands as he lowered his lips to mine. I knew I was dreaming. I knew I was sitting in front of the cold, dark fireplace in my living room. I knew I was completely dressed. Yet, this felt so real!
Could I be in two places at once?
My mind was reeling. Then our lips met, and all rational thought was gone.

His soft mouth caressed mine, the tip of his tongue tracing a path across my slightly parted lips, searching, seeking, in a silent plea to enter. My mouth yielded to him, and I was filled with the sensation of the deepest yearning I had ever known as his tongue explored my mouth and began a sensual slow dance with mine. It was a dance as old as time, a dance these two had shared before.

He held me close to him, the smell of his warm skin intoxicating. Sliding one hand slowly down my naked back, he drew me further into his embrace. I felt the hardness of him against me. His kiss grew more passionate as he moved one hand lower to caress my bottom while his other hand moved up along my ribs, finding my breast. With his thumb, he began to massage my nipple, which responded to his knowing hand.

From somewhere I heard a soft moan of pleasure and realized with surprise that it had come from me. He smiled then. He knew exactly what to do to bring incredible pleasure to the woman in his arms. He stared into my eyes, his own eyes hooded with passion. He ran his tongue down my neck leaving a blazing trail of heat. I gasped aloud when his wet mouth covered my aroused nipple. Every cell of my being was aware of the hard, strong body of the man making love to me. The heat of desire burned deep within me. I gazed down to see the source of my pleasure only to meet his dark stare as he lifted his head to watch the expression of pleasure move across my face. His hands moved lower over my stomach, the path of his hands followed by a trail of hot, wet kisses. I cried out when his fingers touched the throbbing wetness between my legs.

“Oh my love,” he murmured in a low hoarse whisper as his warm breath torched my damp skin. He moved to kiss me again.

My hands swept across the expanse of his broad chest, stopping to make gentle circles around his nipples. He sucked in his breath at my touch. My lips burned to taste him, to let my tongue wander where my hands had been. The tip of my tongue touched his nipple and seemed to electrify the desire building in both of us. His heated response drove me on. I let one hand trace the muscles running down his stomach. His breath caught in his throat when my warm fingers encircled his hard shaft, and his mouth captured mine in a fierce, urgent kiss. I had never felt such need. He moved me beneath him in an effortless and natural motion. His dark hair hung in a curtain around us as he held himself above me and locked his stare with mine. His smoldering gaze consumed me. His strong body covered mine, and I felt the heat of him. One of his legs shifted between mine. He slid his muscular thigh to the side and moved my legs further apart with the easy motion. I was eager to have him fill me, but he lingered, cradled against my most intimate part.

I felt his heart pounding, or was that mine? I opened my eyes to look into his.

He lowered his head and brought his lips to mine. “Takshawee, I love you,” he whispered into the kiss.

From somewhere close by, the rumble of a deep growl filled the air. Until now, I hadn’t realized that Half-Breed was there. Running Wolf’s entire body stiffened. The muscles in his back tightened beneath my hand.

“What is it?” I whispered.

“You must wake up NOW!” he said with intense urgency.

So consumed with desire and basking in our love, I replied, “I don’t want to ever wake up. I want to stay here like this with you forever. I want you to make love to me.” I wanted to feel him deep inside me, but he lifted his warm muscular body from mine and placed his hands firmly upon my shoulders. His dark eyes were fierce and grave with concern. “Wake NOW! You must go. You are in danger!”

My eyes flew opened. My hand loosened and the catcher dropped back into my jacket pocket. I was alone in the darkness of my living room. My heart hammered, no longer with passion but with fear. Other than the sound of my rapid breathing and pounding heart, the room was silent. Thunder rolled and somewhere out in the neighborhood, a dog was barking. Lightning flashed, and there, outside the patio door, stood the shadow of a man. Trembling and frozen in my seat, I watched as he tried to open the sliding door. He wore dark clothing and his face was obscured by the hood of his jacket and the darkness.

Thunder rumbled, closer now. The patio door rattled as he tried the latch to see if it would give. The hair on my neck prickled. Seconds passed, it seemed like hours, and I was frozen with terror. The catcher seemed to come alive in my pocket and I heard Running Wolf’s voice in my mind,
You must go. You are in danger!
I leapt out of the chair and moved as quickly and quietly as I could toward the front door.

Lightning flashed again, rolling thunder following immediately behind. The storm was directly overhead now and large raindrops pelted against the windows. I glanced back toward the patio door but the shadow was gone. I took a few quick steps toward the front door. I was only one step away now, and as I stretched out to reach for the doorknob, the catcher moved in my pocket somehow warning me. I stiffened. The sound of my pulse hammered in my ears. The doorknob was being turned from the outside.

Heart slamming against my chest, I took a step backward. A crashing sound filled the silence as the glass from window beside the door burst into the room. The intruder’s gloved hand, dripping with water, reached in and struggled to find the door lock.
Thank God I had locked the deadbolt.
But would it keep me safe? The hair on the back of my neck rose. Fear and panic filled me and rose to my throat, choking me.
Don’t scream
, I told myself.
They’ll know you’re here.
Feeling like my legs would give out at any moment, I backed into my kitchen.

Crouching down under the breakfast bar, scared out of my mind, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and with trembling hands, I dialed 911.

“911. What’s your emergency?” said the calm male voice.

“Help me! Someone is trying to break into my house!” I whispered frantically into the phone.

“What is your location?” he asked, and I rattled off my address.

“What is your name, Miss?” he questioned.

“Pam, Pam Hastings.” I gripped the phone so tight that I no longer had feeling in my fingers.

“Pam, have the intruders gained entry into your home?”

“No, no, I don’t think so.”

Lightning flashed, lighting up the sky. I peeked up over the counter. I was still alone. No shadow, no intruder.

Crash!
More breaking glass, followed by the sound of the intruder trying to force open the broken window.

“Oh God,” I whispered into the phone.

“Tell me what’s happening, Pam,” the operator asked.

“They’ve broken the window. I’m,”—gasp— “so”—gasp— “scared.” I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs.

“Just hold on. Stay with me, Pam,” the operator said. “There’s a police car just one block from you and they’re on the way. I’ll stay on the line with you until the officers arrive.”

The screaming siren of the approaching police car was followed by the sound of footsteps running away from my house. Somewhere out in the dark, rainy, night a car door slammed, an engine roared to life, and a car peeled away. A moment later, the 911 operator told me that the officers were at my door and asked me to go let them in.

Still trembling with the aftermath of adrenaline, I opened my door to find two police officers.

“I’m Officer Martin and this is Officer Williamson, Ma’m. Did you place a 911 call?” the older officer asked.

“Yes-yes. Someone tried to get into my house.”

Officer Martin inclined his head toward the broken window. “Looks like he nearly made it.”

“Y-yes. You got here just in time. Th-thank you.”

They stepped inside, and it wasn’t until the police were standing in my foyer that I realized I was crying.

“What is your name, Miss?” Officer Williamson asked.

“Pam Hastings,” I replied through my tears.

“Miss Hastings, would you mind turning on a light?” Officer Martin asked.

I flicked the switch. Nothing.

“It’s a pretty bad storm,” I said. “Must have knocked the power out.”

Officer Martin brushed back the curtain on the broken front window to reveal the working streetlights.

“I think who ever wanted to get in here must have cut your power, Miss Hastings,” he said. “This seems pretty serious. We better take a look around.”

They circled the outside of the house, then searched every room inside. Nothing had been disturbed since the intruder had never gotten in. Outside, the rainstorm had washed away any evidence of footprints.

“Do you live here alone, Miss Hastings?” Officer Williamson asked.

“Yes, I do,” I replied, still dazed.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here tonight,” Officer Martin said. “Do you have a friend or family member you can stay with for a few days?”

I told them I did. They waited for me to pack a few things in my backpack, grab the credit cards, and then they escorted me to my car.
This is really getting dangerous. How can I go to someone else’s house and involve them in this?
I didn’t say anything to the police, but I decided to go to a hotel for a few days.

As I threw the backpack into my car and was about to get in, Officer Williamson said, “Miss Hastings, it will be a few days before the report is typed up. We’ll let you know when it’s ready for you.”

He reached into the breast pocket of his uniform and produced a business card. “Here’s my card in case you have any questions or there is anything else you remember that might be important.”

I stuck the card into my jacket pocket next to the catcher.

Was I crazy, or did the catcher tremble with fear?

I sat in my car and watched the police drive away, and with them went my feeling of security.
Now what? Where could I go?
I knew there were plenty of hotels across town so I started my car and headed in that direction. My eyes were repeatedly drawn to my rearview mirror, but there was no one following.

It took only ten minutes to get across town to ‘Hotel Alley’ but it felt like hours. Too afraid to pull into the first hotel, I drove on down the street until I saw a well-known chain. It had a covered parking garage and I thought it might be a good idea to keep my car out of sight for a while. I paid for the room with a company credit card and registered with fake name.

By now the sun was starting to come up so rather than sleep, I took a hot shower and went downstairs for breakfast.

The hotel restaurant was nearly empty except for a few businessmen reading newspapers or typing on their laptops while sipping coffee. I sat in a small booth apart from the other patrons. The waitress came over and greeted me with a smile. She took my order and asked if I would like a morning paper.

“Sure,” I replied.

I scanned the headlines, but was too distracted to focus on the news. I took a small pad and a pen out of my purse.

What had happened to me last night?
I was overwhelmed and started doodling on the pad when the waitress appeared with my order. She made sure everything was to my liking and set down a carafe of hot coffee.

“I’ll leave you to your work. If you need anything, just let me know,” she said.

I nodded and she was gone.

Focus, and think about what you need to do here, Pam.
Later I will need to call my office. I’ll need a few days off to get things in order. My next call would be to the power company and then I had to make arrangements to get someone to fix the window. I also wanted to meet with a representative from a security company, otherwise I couldn’t, wouldn’t, go home.

In my mind’s eye I saw the shadow of the man at my patio door and a chill ran down my spine. My hands began to tremble as I remembered his gloved hand, dripping with rainwater, reaching through the smashed window as he grabbed for the doorknob. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to calm down and push those frightening thoughts from my mind. I had to focus. Maybe the police would get some leads.

I thought of Mrs. Warren. I hoped she was okay, and I made a mental note to check on her later.

Returning to the privacy of my hotel room, I called my boss, Donna Grant, at the advertising agency. I told her about the attempted burglary, but I couldn’t tell her that I was still in danger. Who would believe me when I almost didn’t quite believe it myself? Donna said to take as much time as I needed.

My next call was to the power company. They would send a repair crew out to the house and asked me to meet them there. Okay, that was definitely doable. But every time I thought about being at the house, the image of the dark man at the patio door filled my thoughts and my stomach lurched. I would be able to stick around while the repairs were made as long as I wasn’t alone. I made arrangements for the window repair that morning and the representative from the alarm company would be at the house at two. Since I didn’t know how long I would be staying at the hotel, I wanted to grab more clothes and a few toiletry items from the house, and I really wanted to get my laptop.

It was only 8:30 a.m. and I had a few hours to kill. I was so overwhelmed by everything that was happening to me that I found myself pacing back and forth in the cramped hotel room and jumping at every little noise. I had to catch my breath and clear my head. I had to get away from it all.

It was only then that I remembered a place I used to go to with my parents that had always brought me peace and cleared my head. I had always found the right answers and chosen the right path when I went there to think. It had been quite a while since I even thought of it, but I knew it was exactly where I needed to be. I hopped in my car and drove up Route 7 toward Schaticotay Falls.

I was relieved when I arrived to find that not much had changed. The waterfalls cascaded down the mountain and caught in pools, which emptied into more falls and continued cascading down until finally draining into a clear lake. About halfway up the mountain, beside a large waterfall, there was a ledge of rock that jutted out over one of the big and deeper pools. Towering evergreens and bushes protected the rocks from view. I imagined no one else ever ventured up there because the trail wasn’t marked. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to be there in my quiet place. It seemed to call to me, compelling me to come closer.

As I started up the overgrown path, the catcher, still in my jacket pocket, began to hum as gently as if it were whispering to me. Although an unmarked trail and a little steep, it wasn’t a tough hike. The crisp, early morning air filled my lungs. The scent of the water, the pine trees, and the damp earth that surrounded the rocks mingled in rich aroma. I loved it. The sound of the water spoke to me and gave peace to my soul. I approached the familiar spot, stood before the ledge of rock, and prepared to do what I had always done here . . . what my mother had done and taught me to do. I removed my shoes. The soil, damp from the spray of the waterfall was cool beneath my bare feet and the mist was icy upon my face.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and was filled with a peaceful oneness with the earth. Standing before the ledge, I took in the vista of the falls below me. I knew that this was exactly where I needed to be. I sat on the ledge and calmness fell upon me, as I felt a new strength well up within me. I knew I could handle what was going on in my life and that the current chaos would eventually come to an end. Somehow, I also knew that this was only the beginning of the storm I was destined to endure. An inner voice reminded me that all storms pass and the sun shines again.

I sat there for the better part of an hour and then decided I should get home. I stood up and looked around, taking stock one last time of the place that had always comforted me, and I knew I was ready to face the day. I headed back to my car and drove to the house to meet the crew from the power company.

The day was clear and bright after the terrible storm the night before. The drive back to my house was pleasant but when I pulled up in my driveway, my hands trembled and I couldn’t catch my breath. I sat in my car, staring at my house, my home, my sanctuary . . . afraid to go inside. I hit the garage door opener and watched as the door rose slowly.

“This is ridiculous. Get a hold of yourself.” I forced myself to push the thought of a threat out of my mind.
It’s broad daylight. What could possibly happen in broad daylight?
Still, as I got out of the car my mouth went dry. I stood in my driveway with my hands balled into fists at my side trying to force myself to at least go into the garage, but I couldn’t move.

The crew from the power company arrived and my apprehension abated a bit. After their initial inspection, it was confirmed that the power to the house had indeed been cut and they proceeded to repair the lines. Soon the man from the glass company arrived and the repair of the front window was underway.

I was packing up some clothes when my cell phone rang. Answering it, I was relieved to hear the pleasant, grandmotherly voice of Mrs. Warren.

“Hello, dear. This is Mrs. Warren,” she said. “I hope I’m not reaching you at a bad time.”

“Oh no, not at all Mrs. Warren. How are you?”

“I’m fine, dear. How are you?” she asked.

“Well, actually not so great.”

“Oh my, what happened?”

I quickly filled her in.

“You aren’t staying there alone, are you?” she asked.

“No, actually I’m staying at a hotel for a few days . . . at least until the alarm is installed.”

“Nonsense! You must come and stay with me,” she said firmly. “I insist!”

“Oh, Mrs. Warren, I don’t know. I couldn’t impose and, besides, whoever it is that is after this stone seems dangerous and I couldn’t involve you.”

“My dear, I’m already involved,” she answered.

I thought of our run-in with Mr. Harvey at the museum and what I had overheard when I spoke with her last night on the phone and shivered at the thought.

“I couldn’t put you into any more danger. And, speaking of danger, what happened last night?” I asked.

“It was nothing, dear, nothing worth talking about. Besides, you needn’t worry about me. I’m a tough old bird!”

I laughed at her assessment of herself.

“I really would feel better if you would come and stay with me for a few days.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Warren, but I couldn’t. I’ll probably be working from home and will have to be available for the alarm company. Honestly, I’ll be okay.”

“Well, promise me that you’ll come see me later. Let me fix dinner for you.”

“I would really like that. What time should I be there?”

“Let’s plan on six,” she said.

“That would be wonderful.”

“I don’t like the thought of you being in that house alone. Do you have a pen? Write this number down. It’s my nephew, David. He’s a dog breeder and trainer. I want you to call him and have him get you a nice watch dog to guard you and keep you safe.”

“Mrs. Warren, I don’t think that’s necessary.” With my work schedule, I didn’t have the time to devote to a dog, nor did I want that responsibility.

“Humor an old woman.”

“All right,” I said, “give me the number.” I jotted down the information and hung up the phone promising her I would call him, without actually intending to do it.

It was just about one o’clock when my cell phone rang again.

“Ms. Hastings,” the man’s voice said.

“Yes.”

“This is Finn from the security company. I finished up with my appointment early and I wonder if we could move your appointment up.”

“That would be great, Finn.”

“Wonderful, I’m on the way and should be there shortly.”

I was loading my belongings into my car when he arrived. Our meeting was brief. We agreed on the type of system I would get and set a new appointment for Thursday to install it. By the time the last repairman drove away it was two-thirty in the afternoon and I was starting to feel the effects of sleep deprivation.

My limbs felt like they weighed a ton after unloading my car at the hotel. I asked the front desk for a five o’clock wake-up call and flopped down across the bed. I think my eyes closed before my head even hit the pillow.

His warm hand held mine. I looked up into his smiling eyes and felt the true joy of deep love. My head swirled. Being drawn through time and space had left me feeling dizzy and disoriented. I scanned the area to get a better idea of my surroundings. If the dream catcher was going to keep pulling me to this man, to this time and place, I had better start to try to figure out exactly where and when this place was.

It was an autumn day just as it was at home. Was I actually thinking I had two lives? Two different realities? My conscious mind kicked in . . .
Relax Pam, it’s only a dream!

The warmth of the late autumn sun shone on my face as we walked hand-in-hand along the flat bank of the stream. The trickling water sounded like music to my ears and I was content and safe. Running Wolf smiled down at me and drew me closer to his side as if he realized I needed to feel the strength of his protection. As we strolled along, I noticed other members of the Aloscotay tribe beside the riverbanks. Huts made of sheets of tree bark were built in a circle, all facing the great fire pit in the center. The fire was blazing and the enticing smell of bubbling hot stew rose from a large clay pot by the fire.

The women were working in the gardens and several men were filling a bark-lined hole with dried corn, while others were placing pine branches around the bottom of the lodges. I was trying to take it all in and I must have had a puzzled look on my face because Running Wolf said, “We must prepare for the coming of harsh weather. We must be certain that the corn reserve is buried deep in the earth below where it could become frozen.”

Of course
, I thought,
the Aloscotay tribe must work together for a common goal
.

Half-Breed ran close by, sniffing the trail of some small animal that had recently run past. Following my gaze, Running Wolf said, “He is always by our side. He warns us of danger—not only close by, but also danger from afar.” We continued on. “Your visit this time will be short. You have obligations to keep,” he said, “but when next you return we will have more time together. For now, let us enjoy this beautiful afternoon.”

As we came around the bend in the stream there were several bark-covered canoes on the bank. Running Wolf effortlessly pushed one into the stream and held out his hand to help me step into it.

I remember learning how to use one of these back in Girl Scout camp, but I doubted that particular lesson would spring to mind now. I watched as Running Wolf expertly maneuvered the canoe out into the gentle flow of the stream, while Half-Breed followed along on the shore as if unwilling to let us out of his sight.

We meandered down the lazy stream passing low-hanging branches full of brilliantly colored leaves, a few of which had already made their way into the water and were dancing past across the swirling surface of the river.

“Look there,” he whispered as he pointed to the far side of the stream. A large buck stood watching our approach as his doe and fawn bent their heads to drink. We slipped by in silence.

I marveled that the animals didn’t sense danger and rush away. “I never saw anything like that. That was amazing,” I whispered.

He merely chuckled. “You do not have much memory of this place,” he said. “It will return to you soon.”

“I hope so.”