A Will and a Way

potatoes she had cooking, then decided a little glass of wine while she worked was an excellent idea. She was pouring it when Bruno raced into the room to run around her feet.
    “Bruno.” Pandora crouched and gathered the dog close. He felt warm, solid. “I’m glad you’re here,” she murmured. But for a moment, she allowed herself to wish desperately for Michael.
    Bruno licked her face, made a couple of clumsy leaps toward the counter, then dashed to the door. Jumping up against it, he began to bark.
    “Now?” Pandora demanded. “I don’t suppose you could wait until morning.”
    Bruno raced back to Pandora, circled her then raced back to the door. When he’d gone through the routine three times, she relented. The phone call had been no more than a trick, a clumsy one at that. Besides, she told herself as she turned the lock, it wouldn’t hurt to open the door and take a good look outside.
    The moment she opened it, Bruno jumped out and tumbled into the snow. He began to sniff busily while Pandora stood shivering in the opening and straining her eyes against the dark. Music and the smells of cooking poured out behind her.
    There was nothing. She hugged herself against the cold and decided she hadn’t expected to see anything. The snow wassettled, the stars bright and the woods quiet. It was as it should have been; a very ordinary evening in the country. She took a deep breath of winter air and started to call the dog back. They saw the movement at the edge of the woods at the same time.
    Just a shadow, it seemed to separate slowly from a tree and take on its own shape. A human shape. Before Pandora could react, Bruno began to bark and plow through the snow.
    “No, Bruno! Come back.” Without giving herself a chance to think, Pandora grabbed the old pea coat that hung beside the door and threw it on. As an afterthought, she reached for a cast-iron skillet before bolting through the door after her dog. “Bruno!”
    He was already at the edge of the woods and hot on the trail. Picking up confidence as she went, Pandora raced in pursuit. Whoever had been watching the house had run at the sight of the clumsy, overgrown puppy. She’d found she was susceptible to fear, but she refused to be frightened by a coward. With as much enthusiasm as Bruno, Pandora sprinted into the woods. Out of breath and feeling indestructible, she paused long enough to look around and listen. For a moment there was nothing, then off to the right, she heard barking and thrashing.
    “Get ’em, Bruno!” she shouted, and headed toward the chaos. Excited by the chase, she called encouragement to the dog, changing direction when she heard his answering bark. As she ran, snow dropped from the branches to slide cold and wet down the back of her neck. The barking grew wilder, and in her rush, Pandora fell headlong over a downed tree. Spitting out snow and swearing, she struggled to her knees. Bruno bounded out of the woods and sent her sprawling again.
    “Not me.” Flat on her back, Pandora shoved at the dog. “Dammit, Bruno, if you don’t—” She broke off when the dog stiffened and began to growl. Sprawled on the snow, Pandora looked up and saw the shadow move through the trees. She forgot she was too proud to fear a coward.
    Though her hands were numb from cold, she gripped the handle of the skillet and, standing, inched her way along toward the nearest tree. Struggling to keep her breathing quiet, she braced herself for attack and defense. Relative or stranger, she’d hold her own. But her knees were shaking. Bruno tensed and hurled himself forward. The moment he did, Pandora lifted the skillet high and prepared to swing.
    “What the hell’s going on?”
    “Michael!” The skillet landed in the snow with a plop as she followed Bruno’s lead and hurled herself forward. Giddy with relief, she plastered kisses over Michael’s face. “Oh, Michael, I’m so glad it’s you.”
    “Yeah. You sure looked pleased when you were hefting that skillet. Run out of hair spray?”
    “It was handy.” Abruptly she drew back and glared at him. “Dammit, Michael, you scared me to death. You’re supposed to be halfway to New York, not skulking around the woods.”
    “And you’re supposed to be locked in the house.”
    “I would’ve been if you hadn’t been skulking in the woods. Why?”
    In an offhanded gesture, he brushed snow from her face. “I got ten miles away, and I couldn’t get rid of this bad feeling. It was too pat.