Invasion

them, but with detachment, as if I were talking about something I had read in a magazine.
        She said, "What do you think made them?"
        "I haven't any idea."
        "Maybe you could find it in one of those books in the den. A drawing or photograph just like what you saw."
        "I hadn't thought of that," I said. "I'll check it out after dinner." The den was furnished with a shelf of books on woodlore, hunting, rifle care and other "manly" subjects in addition to its studded leather furniture.
        "Whatever it is-could it be dangerous?"
        "No, no."
        "I don't mean dangerous for us-but maybe for a little guy like Toby."
        "I don't think so," I said. "It didn't seem to have claws-though it must be fairly large. Toby mentioned a bird. I can't imagine what kind of bird, but I guess it might be that."
        "The largest birds around here are pheasants," she said. "And those tracks sound too big for pheasants."
        "Much too big," I said.
        "Maybe we shouldn't let Toby go outside by himself until we know what we've got on our hands."
        I finished my drink and put the glass on the coffee table. "Well, if the books don't give me a clue, I'll call Sam Caldwell and see if he can put me on the right track. If Sam's never seen anything like them, then they're just figments of our imaginations."
        Sam was seventy years old, but he still operated his sporting goods store on the square in Barley. He hunted and fished through every legal season, for every breed of creature natural to New England. The way his face was weathered-cut across with a hundred lines and deeply tanned by sun and wind- he even looked like a piece of the forest.
        As happened often lately, our admiration for the crackling fire swiftly metamorphosed into admiration for each other, and we began some playful necking. The playfulness gave way to real interest: the kisses grew longer, the embraces firmer. Certain that Toby would be asleep for another hour or so, I had just begun to get really serious with her when she drew back a bit and cocked her head, listening.
        I said, "What is it?"
        "Ssshh!
        When my heartbeat subsided and my breathing was somewhat less stentorian than it had been, I could hear it too: the whinnying cries of the horses "Just the nags."
        "I wonder what's wrong with them?"
        "They know that we're sitting in here getting lovey, and they're jealous. That's all it is. They think we ought to be out there grooming them."
        "I'm serious."
        I sighed. "Horses sometimes get spooked for no good reason at all." I tried to embrace her again.
        She was still intent upon listening to the horses, and she shushed me and held me off.
        I said, "I know I locked the barn doors-so it can't be that the wind is bothering them."
        "What about the heaters?"
        "They've been switched on since the last week of October," I said. "I never touch them."
        "You're certain?"
        "Of course."
        "Well… Maybe the heaters have broken down, and the barn's gotten cold."
        Reluctantly I let go of her and leaned away from her. "You want me to see about it?"
        "Would you?"
        "Right away," I said, punctuating it with a well delivered sigh of regret.
        "I'm sorry, Don," she said, her gazelle eyes wide and blue and absolutely stunning. "But I can't be happy… I can't feel romantic if those poor horses are out there freezing."
        I got up. "Neither can
        I," I admitted. Their squeals were really pitiful. "Though I'd have given it a good try."
        "I'll get your coat."
        "And my scarf and gloves and stocking cap and frostbite medicine," I said.
        She gave me one last smile to keep me warm in the snowstorm. It wasn't the sort of smile most men got from their wives: it was much too seductive for that, too smoky and sultry, not in the least bit domestic.
        Five minutes later she huddled in the unheated, glass-enclosed sun porch while I pulled on my boots and zipped them up. As I was about to leave she grabbed me by one arm and pulled me down and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.
        "When I come back from psychoanalyzing the horses," I warned her, "I'm going to chase you around and around the living room sofa until I catch you."
        "In a fair race you won't catch me."
        "Then I'll cheat."
        "Toby will be waking up in half an