CHAPTER SIX
At first, Miranda considered her twilight drive back to the countryside of Swannanoa a respite. The rampaging traffic on Biltmore had reminded her of TV shots of New York, Skip at the radio station, 9/11, and a vague, dicey plot. While ensconced in the hospital, she found herself longing to be high above downtown Asheville, perched on the western-facing slope of Sunset Mountain, gazing at the peaceful vista of the far-off Smokies. It happened to be her birthday wish for this next weekend. Hiking, the soft, comforting scent of the pines underfoot, dissolving into the greening of the hardwoods, the burgeoning light shades of the oaks, tulip poplars, ash, beech, and maple. This was nature girl Miranda out on a trek, reminiscent of her childhood days back in Indiana in the woods,
