Deidre hummed while she knelt on the rock and scrubbed laundry across the tin rungs on her washboard. She stopped when the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end. A tingle traced its way down her spine, and she shivered. It felt as if an icy finger raced back up to her shoulders.
She straightened up, the bones in her back cracked like someone had stepped on twigs, and she searched the surroundings. Tall grass, big rocks, and a setting sun impeded her vision. It could have been an animal, but she didn’t think so.
It didn’t matter. The work in front of her needed completing. She could not return with soiled linens. Whether someone watched her work or not, she had no choice but to continue.
The cold mountain water numbed her fingers. Perpetually bright red hands with dry,
