The bedroom was pitch black when Bernard’s alarm sounded—something he wasn’t used to. He rolled over and turned it off, basking in the brief silence.

He eventually hopped out of bed and into the warm shower as fast as he could, anxious to see Opal again and to try to find their quarry—still knowing full well it wasn’t Bigfoot, but knowing that it was something with an animal shape.

Out of the shower, he packed a thermos of coffee and several chocolate croissants in case they got hungry, and as he did, he laughed out loud.

He could hardly believe they’d been at this for almost a week now, spending the mornings looking for—something—through their camera lenses and their evenings watching the Olympics with Opal’s dad.

They’d taken turns cooking, and he’d even made his grandma’s famous—well, to him, anyway—peasant soup and homemade bread. They’d both loved it, and Opal said it tasted like...old times.

Bernard couldn’t remember when he’d had such a good time, laughing and shouting at the TV with Opal and her father. The US team was still in the running for gold, and it was a rousing win that they’d witnessed.

That was certainly something his family had never done, even when they’d been in the same country at the same time. The last he remembered anything like that was watching sporting events with his grandfather during the summers he’d spent in France.

But now his thoughts had turned to the hunt he and Opal had planned for today.

He packed their breakfast and some napkins in a backpack, and made sure he had his camera and an extra memory stick. Opal and Allen’s cabin wasn’t too far from his and Brandon’s—where was Brandon, anyway?—and Opal had said they’d be walking to her favorite vantage point.

At the last minute, he realized that if Opal hadn’t been able to get pictures before with her lens, his was only a tad bit better, so he grabbed the heavy-duty binoculars he used for the show, to count best angles and placed them in the backpack.

The morning was crisp and clear, and black had turned to gray as the sun glowed behind the mountains to the east. His frosty breath hung in the air as he walked steadily over to Opals.

With a soft rap on the door at exactly six a.m., he turned to look behind him. The sun would be peeking over the top of the mountain soon, and he couldn’t wait to see what they would find.

Opal opened the door and smiled up at him, her eyes gleaming. She held up a finger to her lips and turned back into the house, pulling on her coat and gloves and grabbing a backpack of her own. She wrapped a ruby red scarf around her neck, and her green eyes seemed to glow as she stepped out of the house into the early morning light.

“Thanks for staying quiet. Dad’s still asleep. I think the curling must have done him in,” she said with a laugh.

“I thought I was going to have a heart attack myself. Who knew sliding a stone over the ice could be so exciting?”

Opal rolled her eyes as they set out on the path down to the lake. “Me, that’s who. I never knew, and I still don’t, but you guys sure seemed to enjoy it.”

“Aw, come on. It’s a really old sport. I looked it up when I got home. It was invented in Scotland, and it’s quite complex.”

“If you call sweeping ice in front of a stone complex...I guess I could see that,” she said as they laughed together and he followed her on the narrow path that she turned up after the docks at the lake side.

It was still cold, but signs of spring were popping up all over, Bernard noticed as they walked in silence. Small, yellow flowers peeked out from under small patches of snow, and purple ones from under piles of pine needles.

As the sun spilled over the mountain and began to fall into the valley, bird calls began and Bernard even thought he could hear the chirps of baby birds, even though it seemed a little early in the season for that.

But spring was the time of new birth, babies and growth, so it wouldn’t have surprised him if there were eggs in nests just waiting to be burst open with new life.

He shook his head as they reached the knoll Opal had described and she took a position on the big, flat boulder. He sat beside her and whistled as he took in the panoramic view, the lake covering the valley below.

“Wow, this is quite a spot.”

Opal sighed and pulled her beanie over her ears against the cold.

“It is, isn’t it? You haven’t been here?”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve hiked quite a bit, but never came this way,” he said as he craned his neck back toward the ranch. “I should have. It’s a good spot for the wagons that would be coming down the road in one of the episodes.”

“Well, I’ll share it with you if you promise not to tell anyone,” Opal said as she lifted her camera and looked toward the now infamous glade where something lived. He didn’t even want to think the name Bigfoot at this point.

“My lips are sealed,” he said as he poured her a cup of coffee and handed her a croissant. She didn’t notice, and he nudged her elbow, startling her.

“Oh, thank you. That looks delicious.”

“Best bakery in Riston I could find. These are close to authentic...almost like my grandmother used to make.”

Opal took a sip of her hot coffee and said, “Mm. This really is delicious.”

Bernard laughed. “American coffee is much different than European coffee. This I learned to make on my own,” he said, proud that she liked it. “I thought we could use the sustenance while we searched for—”

“Something,” Opal cut in and her eyes sparkled as she turned to him and laughed. “Don’t even say it.”

“I haven’t even thought it today, I promise,” he said.

She turned to him as she finished her croissant. “You spent a lot of time in France? With your family? You said your mother was French, right?”

“Yes, she is.”

He considered explaining the state of his family, but thought better of it. Opal had a big family, and probably wouldn’t understand his...and why he didn’t want one.

He put the trash in his backpack for them to carry out, and reached for his camera as Opal reached for hers.

For a moment, he searched the valley through his viewfinder, zooming in on any movement he saw...birds, a coyote running along the side of a hill. It was spectacular up here—the air clear, the sun warm and wildlife all around.

“Look,” Opal whispered.

He looked to where her lens was pointing—to the glade—and he did the same.

He listened as the shutter of her camera ticked off frame after frame, and he did the same, adjusting his lens the best he could. As soon as the movements stopped, he lowered his camera and looked at what he had taken.

“Nothing. You?” he asked.

Opal looked crestfallen as she did the same.

“Nope.”

They spent another hour trying to get a shot, although neither one of them saw anything moving again, either through the cameras or the binoculars he’d brought.

The sun now fully illuminated the valley, and they spent some time taking pictures of the hills and smaller valleys, and the people now starting to appear for winter sports.

“Want to try again this evening?” Bernard asked as he took one last look through his camera at the glen.

“Sure,” Opal said. “Oh, I can’t. It’s trivia night and I promised Olivia I’d go. Maybe tomorrow?”

Bernard laughed. “I guess I promised Olivia, too. I didn’t realize today was Thursday. When I left the gallery she asked if I’d join you all. I wasn’t quick enough on my feet, I guess. I said yes.”

Opal turned to look at him quizzically, a slight frown on her face. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

His joke had clearly landed flat. How could she know that he always joked about wanting to be alone, avoiding family at all costs? It was pretty clear that she thought the world of her own family, and his heart tugged at the thought that he might have hurt her.

“I’m sorry. I was joking. I’d be delighted to join you and your family for trivia.”

As he packed up their gear, he hoped that in his haste not to hurt her, he hadn’t made a mistake. The last thing he needed was to be around any type of family like his own.