“You’re going the wrong way,” he responds.
“I’m sorry. Am I trespassing on your land? I didn’t notice any signs.” I glance behind me to make certain, but there’s nothing visible back there but trees.
“You need to travel north past the falls,” is his bizarre response.
Need? This is getting interesting. “Why?”
He glares at me for a good, long time before he finally answers. “There’s someone there you want to meet.”
“Who?”
“Stop dilly-dallying and get your butt moving.”
I’m officially intrigued. I consider asking him more questions but the scowl on his face has me shrugging instead. “Okay.”
I follow the old man’s directions and begin marching north.
“If you manage the impossible, I’ll be in your debt,” he calls after me.
I merely wave in response because I haven’t the first clue what he’s talking about. Is he sending me on a quest? Or am I dreaming this? Frankly, I don’t care. I’m always up for an adventure.
I hike for another twenty minutes without seeing anyone. Did I take a wrong turn somewhere? Is the old man crazy and cackling about sending the stupid outsider off into the woods to get killed by a bear? Shit. Bears. Are there bears in this forest? Maybe I should go back.
I round a curve and nearly stumble when a cute little cottage in the middle of a clearing comes into view. Is this where the old man meant to send me? And if he did? Why?
I sneak closer but skid to a halt when I hear someone chopping wood. I do not want to encounter a stranger when he’s wielding an axe. No siree bob.
My body disagrees. My feet carry me toward the house until I can peek into the side yard where a man is chopping wood without a shirt on. The muscles in his broad shoulders flex as he brings the axe down on the wood.
Where’s a bag of popcorn when a girl needs one? Because this is some prime entertainment right here. I watch as the man chops two more logs. He turns around to pick up another piece of wood and I gasp when his face comes into view. I recognize him. Archer.
“You!”
“Holy crap, Cassie. You scared me. What are you doing out here?”
Will he believe me if I claim an old man pointed me in his direction? Or will he think I’m crazy? For some reason, I don’t want him to think I’m crazy. Weird. I’m usually proud of the title Crazy Cassie.
“Out for a hike.”
“Do you live in Winter Falls?”
“You’ve been to my apartment. Was it in Winter Falls? Or do you think I can snap my fingers and my apartment magically appears wherever I want it to?” I snap my fingers but nothing happens. “Huh. My magic doesn’t appear to work in front of mere mortals.”
“Wisecracker,” he mutters.
“I prefer wise ass.”
“You want to come inside?” He motions toward the cottage, which appears even smaller now that I’m close to it.
“You live here?”
“For now.”
“Are you squatting?”
“Don’t get too excited. I’m not doing anything illegal.”
I hunch my shoulders. “Too bad.”