River’s End

her. The smattering of comments and questions engaged her mind.
    The call of an eagle had everyone looking up. Though this thick canopy barred the sky, Olivia used the moment to shift into an explanation of some of the birds and mammals found in the forest.
    The man in the sunglasses bumped against her, gripped her arm. She jolted and had nearly shoved him away when she saw he’d tripped in a tangle of vine maple.
    “I’m sorry.” His voice was barely a whisper, but his hand stayed on her arm. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
    “You didn’t. The vine maple’s been tripping up hikers for centuries. Are you all right? You look a little shaky.”
    “I’m . . . You’re so , .” His fingers trembled on her arm. “You’re very good at your job. I’m glad I came today.”
    “Thank you. We want you to enjoy yourself. Do I know you?”
    “No.” His hand slid down her arm. brushed lightly over the back of hers, then dropped away. “No, you don’t know me.”
    “You look like someone. I can’t quite place it. Have you—”
    “Miss! Oh, Miss MacBride, can you tell us what these are?”
    “Yes, of course. Excuse me a minute.” She skirted over to a trio of women who huddled around a large sheet of dark red lichen. “It’s commonly called dog lichen. You can see—if you use your imagination—the illusion of dog’s teeth in the rows.”
    The pressure was back, like a vise around her ribs. She caught herself rubbing her hand where the man’s fingers had brushed.
    She knew him. she told herself. There was something . . . She turned around to look at him again. He was gone.
    Heart pumping, she counted heads. Fifteen. She’d signed on for fifteen, and she had fifteen. But he’d been there, first at the edges of the group, then close in. She walked over to Celia. “You’re wonderful,” Celia told her and gave her a brilliant smile. “I want to live right here, with dog lichen and Destroying Angels and licorice ferns. I can’t believe how much you know.”
    “Sometimes I forget I’m supposed to entertain as well as educate and get too technical.”
    Celia skimmed her gaze over the group. “Looks to me like everyone is well entertained.”
    “I hope so. Did you happen to notice a tall man, short gray hair, sunglasses. Sunburned, good build. Mid-sixties, I guess.”
    “Actually, I haven’t paid much attention to the people. I got caught up. Lose someone?’“
    “No. I . . No,” she said more firmly. “He must have been out on his own and just joined in fora bit. It’s nothing.” But she rubbed the back of her hand again. “Nothing.”
    When she got back to the Center, Olivia was pleased to see several members of her group had been interested enough to head to the book area. A good guided hike could generate nice sales of books.
    “Why don’t I buy you lunch?” Celia asked.
    “Thanks, but I really have work.” She caught the look, sighed a little. “You don’t have to worry. I’m going to be chained to my desk for quite a while. Then I have an interior lecture scheduled and another guided hike, then another lecture. The only place I’ll be alone until six o’clock is in my office.”
    “What time’s the first lecture?”
    “Three o’clock.”
    “I’ll be here.”
    “At this rate, I’ll have to offer you a job.”
    Celia laughed, then gave Olivia’s shoulder a little squeeze. “It’s annoying, isn’t it, having people hovering.”
    “Yes.” The minute she said it, she winced. “I’m sorry. That was rude. I didn’t mean—”
    “I’d hate it, too.” Celia interrupted, then surprised Olivia by kissing her cheek. “We’ll get along very well, Liv. I promise. I’ll see you at three.”
    Oddly amused. Olivia walked through the Center to the concession area and picked up a Coke and a box of raisins to fortify her through the paperwork on her desk. She detoured, winding through each area on the way to her office. When she realized she was looking for the man with the sunburned face, she ordered herself to stop being an idiot.
    She pulled off her cap, stuck it in her back pocket, then carried her snack to her office. As she stepped inside, she checked her watch to gauge her time. Two paces from her desk, she froze. And stared at the single white rose lying across the blotter. The can of Coke slipped out of her hand and landed with a thud at her feet.
    His face had changed. Twenty years—twenty years in prison had changed it. Somehow she’d known, but she hadn’t