Chris rode along scanning the skies and highpoints that seemed likely perches for eagles; Liz naturally following the twisting path as it wound in and out of the tree line. Chris knew she could count on Liz to handle the navigation, no mule was foolish enough to place their feet on bad ground. Liz would follow the current path till it ended, or she was directed otherwise; she was the ultimate in ‘cruise control’. So Chris concentrated her gaze upward.
“Look!” she cried pointing.
Halting, the molly did, her long ears pointing at them as surely as Chris’s finger. Two eagles were floating on outstretched wings, riding the air currents with practiced ease.
Liz and Chris held still watching the graceful ballet; at least two of the six were still here, alive and well.
Voices? Yes, Mike was sure he had heard someone talking. How amazing, in all the trips he had made up here, he had never seen anyone. Sometimes some sign that someone had been by, but never another person, not even at great distance. It had been one of the things he had loved about the area; how fortuitous that they should appear now when he needed help.
“Hello!” he shouted. Needing help was a little foreign to him, he was normally very self reliant; however he had quickly discovered that he would not be able to get out of this predicament without assistance. Apparently he had hit his head on a rock and it had dazed him; he had one heck of a headache. As soon as he had tried to move, he found he had a bigger problem; the ankle that had tangled with the root absolutely refused to take him another step. He wondered too, if shock was getting to him, he felt terribly cold and sore all over, and to add to it, his camera had hooked on a branch out of reach. He couldn’t even check to see if it was broken.
“Hello!” he called again.
Liz’s keen ears had caught the first call and shifted in its direction. Chris, ever mindful of the molly’s greater senses, had shut up and focused in that direction too, straining to pick up on what had drawn her attention. Chris heard the second call.
“Hello!” she responded. Urging Liz forward, heading for what she and the rangers referred to as the brink. Sounded like another hiker had gone over the edge.
Her hideout was perfect except for the Loneliness...
and the man determined to find her.
all available at
"Where was the man who could win her heart?
The man who could carry on the Kris Kringle legend?
Somehow she couldn’t mesh the two.
The man of my dreams and my father just weren’t the same man."
Limited copies available from the author.
E-mail for more information.
A little bit about the author...
Deborah Tompkins is a lifetime inhabitant of the Catskill foothills, born with the urge to put words and images to paper. A confirmed read-aholic and part-time freelance illustrator and writer, lightly published in local papers and national magazines. My love of creative pursuits such as writing, art and gardening is surpassed only by my devotion(addiction?) to horses. When health forced a change from the active outdoors of equestrian pursuits I decided to turn the hobbies into a vocation and went to college to learn ‘computer graphics’ twenty-eight years after high school graduation. Despite finishing with a 3.92 GPA and honors diploma, no ‘related’ employment could be gained.
However the home computer has allowed me to realize another dream… writing novels. Previously I hadn’t finished anything of length because I couldn’t get through the rewrite process. Now it is so easy to ‘adjust’ words, sentences even paragraphs or whole pages that I actually enjoy the process.
So here I sit with two cats in attendance, fingers trying to keep up with all those stories rushing through my head eager to promenade merrily across the screen.