CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Early November was a funny time of year in Colorado. Jake left the city, still shrouded in clouds. As Rick had said, it was cold as the wind whistled across the concrete and between the high rises. But as she climbed into the mountains a half hour outside Denver, the sun was bright, warming the landscape. She lowered the back window, and Cheyenne immediately took advantage of it. The colors were gone from the mountains, the aspens having long ago shed their brilliant golden leaves. The days had definitely been hinting at winter, and she had a sudden longing for her cabin.

In the old days, she'd drive up during a blizzard just to be able to sit by the fire, gaze out the giant windows overlooking the Collegiate Peaks and watch the snow fall. She really missed the cabin. And after spending more than a month there, it reminded her of why she bought the place to begin with. Jake felt stifled in the city, and she could feel the tension leave the farther they drove into the mountains.

She looked in her side mirror, smiling at the nearly laughing face of Cheyenne as she stuck her face into the wind. Yeah, this is what she liked. Quiet time, alone time with her dog. They would drive out to Idaho Springs instead of venturing to the much-used Mt. Evans Wilderness. She'd go west to the tunnels and hike some of the old mining trails.

There were only two other cars at the trailhead. No one was about so she let Cheyenne out without the leash. After clipping her water bottle to her waist and hooking Cheyenne's leash to a belt loop, she started out. Cheyenne ran ahead of her, turning around frequently to make sure she was coming.

" I'm still here, " she said, motioning to the dog to go ahead. She knew Cheyenne would not get too far ahead, and she kept a look-out for other hikers. Some hikers weren't too keen to have a dog running wild up to them.

Clouds were gathering far to the west, over the Continental Divide and Jake suspected the mountains would have snow by morning. Denver would see perhaps a little rain, if that.

The trail climbed higher, moving through the ponderosas and into the spruce, affording Jake a beautiful view of Mt. Evans to the south and the ski area to the west. She paused at a switchback, looking to the south. Cheyenne walked back to her, finally nudging her leg. She walked on, her leg feeling strong, only an occasional twinge on a very steep portion of the trail. This hike should be fine for her. They'd go up about an hour, then head back down, well before dark.

They only encountered one hiker coming back down the trail, and he simply patted Cheyenne on the head and kept going. They were still a good hour from reaching the tunnels and Jake looked to the sky, noting the dark clouds. Best to head back down now.

" Cheyenne? Come on, girl, " she called. The dog immediately came dashing down the trail, brushing Jake as she passed by. She made the trip down easily, although Jake's leg was aching by the time they finished the last switchback. She was visibly limping as they walked to her truck. She offered Cheyenne some water from her bottle, and the dog drank, lapping up the liquid from Jake's palm.

By the time they headed back, dusk was upon them, and the temperature had dipped into the forties. Jake pulled on the sweat-shirt she kept in her backpack, then settled in, driving them slowly back to Denver. Cheyenne was lying in the back, head resting on the console. Jake absently rubbed her head as she drove.

" You're spoiled rotten, you know, " she murmured.

She got no response except a thump of the tail.