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onto this mountain. He slammed on the brakes.
    Stretching out before him was a sweeping vista: smoke-wreathed ridges of earth and tree marching into the distance, lit here and there with what seemed to be reflections of the vast sweep of stars above his head, like some huge inland sea.
    He didn’t remember putting the SUV in park and stepping out, nor walking onto the grassy verge, but some time later he found himself there, a bit damp and chilled, gazing up at the stars burning just out of his reach. There was a crick in his neck and he wondered how long he had been standing like that.
    For a moment, looking up, he had the sensation that he was standing on something living and breathing—like some immense creature slumbered beneath the stars, its huge heart beating slowly beneath his feet. He looked down quickly to reassure himself that he was, in fact, standing on the earth.
    Letting out a shaky breath, Nick unclenched his hands.
    Uttering an expletive in reaction to all this seemed sacrilegious somehow.
    When he managed to make his way back to his SUV and clamber in, he realized how much colder it was up here than down in Asheville. Hopefully the cabin he had rented had lots of extra firewood, because he planned on building a nice roaring blaze.
    Steadfastly avoiding the view that lay just beyond the silvered meadow around him, he followed the instructions on the stone and wood signposts that directed him to the cabins and toward the lights he could see through the trees on the other side of the meadow.
    The locals were wrong. The danger wasn’t in getting lost. The danger was in losing yourself. And strangely, he had the strongest sense that he had been here before, under these stars, on this mountain.
     
    Pooka’s deep warning bark outside the lab door first alerted Grace, then the gate alarm bleated twice, bringing a muttered protest from the chicken house. She glanced at the clock. Good grief. Who on earth would be coming in this late? And using the gate code?  
    She yanked off her lab coat and hair cover, and grabbed her jacket from the rack. Had she forgotten something? Or someone? It was possible, given her state of mind of late. But just in case, she decided to head for the house to get her shotgun.
    Perhaps it was a late delivery, or pickup. She hoped it wasn’t Eddie giving up early on his long-delayed fishing trip. Or Ouida deciding she really couldn’t get along with her younger sister for two weeks. Or a guest for the cabins. Please let it not be that.
    She remembered checking to make sure that all the guests on the schedule had been refunded their money and placed elsewhere in the area. But she vaguely remembered an email from the rental agency that handled the cabins earlier this week. She hadn’t read much past the first sentence, which had been the usual plea for her to consider reopening for the holiday season.
    Pooka danced around her as she ran toward the house and pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket. Blowing out an exasperated breath at her deteriorating mental state, she called the rental agency owner’s cell phone.
    “You forgot,” was the amused, if a bit sleepy, response.
    Grace’s heart fell. “Okay. My apologies for the late hour, Trish. What did I forget?”
    “I knew I should’ve called to confirm again when he came by today to sign everything. You’ve been a bit distracted lately. But then the phone rang—”
    “Not your problem, Trish. It’s my fault.” Grace sighed. “Confirm what?”
    “You have one guest we couldn’t find a suitable alternative for. And he wouldn’t accept a refund. He even offered to pay you a bonus to make up for the inconvenience. I emailed you on Monday to ask if you’d mind one straggler for a week.”
    “And I didn’t answer.”
    “So, I assume he’s just come in your front gate.”
    “Mmm hmm.”
    There was a sigh and a rustle on the other end. “Hold on a sec.”
    Grace slowed down and Pooka ran circles around