Town in a Wild Moose Chase Read Online Free

she go get help?
    She looked back at the old hermit. He seemed to have fallen into unconsciousness, his thin body sprawled on the cold snowpack.
    Her first task, she realized, was to get him to a warm, safe place.
    “Solomon, can you move?” She took him by the shoulder and tried to lift him, but he was too heavy for her.
    She needed help.
    She turned and looked back at the house. That was her best bet, she realized.
    Moving as quickly as she could, her breathing loud in her ears now, she ran back down the way she’d come. She moved swiftly but cautiously, her boots crunching into the loosening snow. She nearly slipped several times as she raced over the blueberry bushes and rough ground, but she managed to keep her balance.
    As she reached the house, she turned to check on Solomon before she went inside to call the police. But what she saw made her stop dead in her tracks.
    Solomon was gone.
    She blinked several times and refocused her gaze. But she wasn’t mistaken.
    The unconscious hermit she’d left lying in the snow had disappeared.

TWO

    Mystified, Candy raced back into the fields, up the rising slope. “Solomon!” she called as she ran, an uneasiness in her voice. “Solomon, where are you? What’s going on?”
    She scanned the field ahead before shifting her gaze to the woods on her right as she searched desperately for the old hermit. But she saw no sign of him. In fact, she didn’t see much of anything, except for the strewn-about rocks and frozen vegetation buried beneath the cover of winter. The trees at the ridgeline stood in sharp contrast to the surrounding white landscape, like tall dark toothpicks, their bare, twisted branches tangling with one another in a dark brush of muted colors. She looked for movement among the trees but, again, saw nothing.
    She hurried ahead, breathing in light huffs now.
    As she approached the spot where Solomon Hatch had fallen, she slowed and stopped. She could see his tracks in the snow, the spot where he’d dropped to his knees before slumping to the ground. She also saw a new set of footprints,angling off in a different direction, away from her, before circling around to the right. She studied them with something bordering on disbelief. He must have climbed to his feet as she’d run for help and staggered up the slope, toward the trees at the edge of the barrens.
    He’d gone back into the woods.
    She was dumbfounded. Why would he do something like that, especially if he’d been injured? Or in danger? He’d seemed frightened, as if something in the woods was coming after him. So why go back in there? Why not follow her to the farmhouse, where he’d be safe?
    She chided herself for leaving him but knew she’d had no choice. Besides, he couldn’t be that far away. At most he had a few minutes on her. She might be able to catch up to him.
    Moving cautiously, she started up the slope toward the tree line. At the top of the ridge she stood for several moments, staring into the woods. She heard all the typical sounds—the birds, the creak of branches, the brush of the wind. But no footsteps, no sound of someone moving or breathing. She saw no evidence of another person nearby.
    Except for the footprints.
    She thrust her hands deeper into the pockets of her fleece jacket and started into the woods, following Solomon’s tracks. She studied them as she walked. The left foot appeared to be dragging across the snow a little, perhaps due to an injury. Or did Solomon have a limp? She couldn’t remember. She didn’t know him that well. She had no idea what to expect if she found him. Should she take him back to the farm? Would he be difficult to deal with? Her mind spun out a dozen different scenarios as she contemplated the wisdom of her actions. But no matter what happened, she couldn’t abandon the old hermit. She had to find out what had happened to him.
    After a few dozen yards the woods closed behind her, obscuring the farm and fields. The land rose to a crest