After Megan saw her off, she returned to the shed and retrieved the twine. So Denton had been calling. If he knew where to call, it wouldn't be long until he materialized on her doorstep. Maybe it was time to go home. If Denton found out about Justin, there would be a scene, of that she was certain. The only way Denton was going to accept the termination of their engagement was if she publicly announced it, and that was what she would have to do as soon as she returned. Strange, but the idea no longer gave her chills. Why had it taken her months to tell him?
She carefully wound the twine around the broken broom handle, tying the two ends when she started on the second spool. The best thing to do was go into town tonight and call him - and this time leave no question in his mind.
Picking up the machete and book, she left the shed and started for the woods. At the path entrance, she tied one end of the twine around a tree and started down the trail, allowing the twine to unwind from the handle as she did so. Marking the trees with the machete would work, but it would permanently damage the trees. This was much better.
The book provided excellent examples of the plants and she found a large assortment of edible foods as well as herbs. The roll of twine was getting small, and it was a nuisance to hold the spool while trying to turn pages, so she unrolled the rest of the twine and tied the end around her waist. Draping the remainder across her arm, she continued.
The sun was directly overhead when the twine was stretched as far as she could go. She was in a small clearing divided by a fallen dead tree. So far she hadn't seen one snake. It was tempting to untie the twine from her waist and wander a little further, but the forest was too confusing. Even now she wouldn't be sure which way to go back to the cabin if the twine didn't indicate the direction.
She licked her lips. A glass of water would taste good right now. Her stomach growled a reminder that she hadn't eaten breakfast. She forced herself to stop thinking about it, focusing on the flora instead. A tiny yellow flower peeped from under the log and she leaned down to examine it. Hadn't she seen that one in the book? She searched through the pages, pausing to examine the flower. So intent was she on finding the flower, that the crackling of the brush didn't immediately register a warning. Poised in the middle of turning a page, she froze. Was something stalking her? She squinted at the brush, but nothing was visible. The steady tread of some large animal continued in her direction - a mountain lion?