Only one person, he realised. Let them get on with whatever they’d come up here for and wait until they’d gone. No tinkling from carbine hooks, so...it wasn’t a rock-climber. Sailcloth swish — a day-pack being pulled off a shoulder and dropped on the granite? Velcro buzz — feet being released from hiking boots? Rustling sounds — clothes? Yes, because now the sounds of wading and swimming. His secret swimming-hole wasn’t a secret any more — had he lost his place of refuge? Three strokes out, but. You're welcom Mr. Kirk. I didn't want people worrying. Say hello to everyone in town for me." Then they were done. Shay let out a breath. "Kent, could you just hold me for awhile?" They sat, or Kent sat and Shay laid across his lap letting him stroke her arm while she processed everything.The next afternoon they read the "front page" breaking story in the Gazette. Kent was surprised at how mild it was."Oh there are plenty of clues the locals will understand. But most will be happy that someone. More

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