The roads twisted and turned, rose and fell, and there were moments Melody felt she was driving in a perpetual curve. By the time she reached the cabin, her stomach was churning and making noises that neither sounded nor felt good. 

     “Ugh...geez,” she mumbled as she slid from the driver’s seat.   

     She leaned against the interior wall of the wooden garage, clutching her belly with one hand and holding her mouth with the other. She hadn’t been to the mountains in over a year, and she remembered with agony why.  

     She took a moment while her stomach calmed and the nausea subsided before slipping her suitcase strap over her shoulder. From the passenger side, she dragged out the wheeled case as well as her purse, then closed the door with her hip.   

     Walking out into the soft light of evening, she looked around and smiled. There was a lush, ancient pine forest around most of the cabin, freshly cut grass covering a modest front yard dappled in gardens, and a bird bath surrounded by feeders, garden gnomes, and what looked to be hand-made fairy houses. She breathed in crisp clean air that smelled of serenity and kicked the swing-style door to the garage until the old iron catch snapped shut.   

     She made her way over moss covered stepping stones to the front of the log and stone house, where a freshly stained set of wooden steps led to a freshly stained, homely yet exquisitely built front porch. Wooden pillars holding up the porch roof were carved like totem poles and set in stone foundations. The walls were adorned with planters, plaques of wild animals, and native art. 

     She set down her bags to search for the key the agent had left in a planter pot.  Looking over her immediate surroundings, she noticed an un-aged swing hung with bright, new silver chains from the sturdy wooden porch roof. She stepped a bit closer and the sweet undeniable scent of cedar assailed her senses and made her smile from ear to ear.   

     “Heaven,” she breathed, believing anyone in their right mind should think so of cedar.   

     As she neared the wooden planter filled with ivy, she heard a noise from the trees near the porch. Now acutely aware of danger behind every corner, she spun to face the threat lurking behind her. There was nothing, though the lower branches from one particular young pine were moving more than those being swayed by a sudden breeze.   

     Her breath quickened. She was being watched. She could feel it from the goosebumps on every inch of her body. She looked to the shed. Her Jeep was farther than the front door of the cabin, but she still hadn’t found the key.  

     Stomp! Rustle!    

     There it was again and she quickly shoved her hand into the fresh soil in search of the key. She stared at the branches that had once again been jerked about as she fumbled through the pot, nails clawing frantically at the rising roots. Tears welled in her eyes, causing her view of the tree to blur. She mumbled silent pleas to herself to hurry as she tried to control her fear. 

     He couldn't have known she would be there, she reasoned in a desperate attempt to calm down and think rationally. He couldn't have followed her all that way without her seeing him on the road behind her.   

     Her fingers finally felt the little metal ring, then the key itself, and took hold just as a figure began to emerge from the deep emerald shroud. She lunged for the door and shoved in the key, shutting her eyes tightly to squeeze away the tears.   

     As the door opened, there was a sound upon the steps, and she turned with wide eyes to see the identity of her stalker. 

     “Aaaa…..!” she started to scream, but quickly quieted herself as she stared into the large black eyes of a small doe. “Geeeez! A deer?”  

     She stared across the porch and looked on as the doe chewed bark ripped from the tree. It stood with one front hoof on the bottom step and stared back at Melody. She sighed in relief but wondered about the doe.  

     “Aren’t you supposed to be afraid of people?” she wondered in awe as the doe put her other front hoof on the second step.    

     Melody kept a watchful eye on the strange creature as she carried her bags into the cabin.  When she turned to shut the door, the doe stomped her hoof several times on the step. Melody looked at her in wonder of what she could possibly want.  Then, from the corner of her eye, she spotted a bag marked “Deer Corn”.  

     “Oh, you must be joking!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “They fed you?”     

     She noticed a slip of paper taped to the bag and pulled it off to read.

              “Melody,

                    Welcome to the Pennsylvania Wilds!  I hope you have a lovely time and  

               enjoy the peace and quiet.  Food’s in the pantry at the back of the kitchen.  

               There’s plenty of long-shelf-life items, as well as bottled water.  Eat what you

               want but please, wash dishes.

                    By the way, the deer corn isn’t for hunting!  The family nursed a  

              wounded fawn last fall.  She became their pet but runs around free.  She

              can find food for herself, but I’m afraid they spoiled her a bit with handouts. 

              If you scoop some in your hand, she’ll come right up to you! As soon as she’s

             done, she’ll leave until she feels like another visit.  

                                                                                                                  Have a nice time! 

                                                                                                                  Mira

               PS: Before you leave PLEASE tidy up!  The new owners have already seen the

               place in its pristine condition.  They can’t know someone stayed here, then

               I’d have to explain how the intruder had a key!  Thanks!”

     Melody looked around to see the doe waiting patiently at the steps. She put the note on top of the window sill and reached into the heavy bag. She hadn’t fed a deer like this since grade school, and never one that was truly wild. 

     Slowly, she walked across the deck and down the steps, both her hands overflowing with the tasty treat. As she neared the bottom, the doe warily stepped back. 

     “Hello, girl,” cooed Melody, “I won’t hurt you. I thought you were hungry?” Melody asked as the doe took another step backward, suspicious of the newcomer. 

     “Here you go,” she coaxed with outstretched arms.  

     Melody stood still to allow the deer time to trust her.  

     “My arms are getting tired,” she urged after a moment of stillness.  

     As her arms began to wearily lower, the doe took a step closer. Melody smiled and straightened her arms as the doe took another step, then another, until finally, she was eating hungrily from Melody’s hands. When she neared the end, Melody began to laugh at the way her tongue tickled her palms. 

     Crack!  

     Something in the trees stepped on a fallen branch, and Melody and the doe stared into the darkening forest.  

     The doe, deciding caution was the safest course, bounded toward the trees along the opposite side of the cabin. Melody, deciding the doe had the right idea, ran up the steps and back into the cabin, shutting the door and locking it tightly.  

     She stayed behind the safety of the wall as she leaned her head in front of the curtainless window. Squinting her eyes to see through the dim light of dusk, she searched the tree line for the culprit. She watched for any movement, for any creature on four legs or two to emerge as had the doe. It could have been a man this time. It, also, could have been a bear.  

     She sighed wearily, deciding her newfound fear of everything that goes bump in the night had made her paranoid, and moved away from the window. She looked around the large living room, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. June in the forest was quite warm, but ever since her attack, she’d become prone to sudden chilly spells.  

     First, she turned up the heater, deciding against lighting a fire in the massive stone fireplace. She didn’t want to have to clean up after one. Remembering what Mira had told her about the view from the upstairs master bedroom, she decided to bring her things there. Then, she planned to eat something for supper and probably curl up to a good book since there was no cable.  

     Maybe she would play solitaire or work on her résumé. Her apprenticeship position had been given to someone else while she recovered. Maybe she would research what fields sought a major in ancient cultures, registering online at the university for more credits, if required.  

     However she chose to spend her evening, it would be centered around fun -- something she hadn’t given much consideration since New Year’s Eve. The night was hers. The morning would be hers. The days to come would be hers, and however long she wanted to be there.  

     It was an escape. Though Melody Taskle never believed in running from problems, this was her chance to find herself again. It was her time to recover in her own way. She could cry all she wanted, scream to the top of her lungs if she wanted, and find a way to laugh at the absurdity of it all. She could do it on her own. All she needed was time. Time and this beautiful, wonderfully quiet, wonderfully deserted place.