Wednesday morning, Hawkman and Jennifer donned jeans, boots and carried light jackets over their arms to the kitchen. They had breakfast, then Hawkman slipped on the wind-breaker and strolled to the side yard, where he drove the four-wheeler out from under the lean-to. Jennifer stood at the entry until he stopped in front of her, then she hopped onto the back.

She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I hope we find the cabin."

He gave her a thumbs-up as he revved up the engine, moved down the driveway and turned west. They rode a couple of miles before Hawkman slowed a bit and studied the road. He shook his head. "I don't see a sign of a road or trail."

Jennifer pointed. "Is that a clearing up ahead?"

He glanced toward the area. "Could be. Let's investigate."

Hawkman brought the four-wheeler to a stop and hopped off. Without a trained eye, the lay person would never spot the bent grass. He dropped down on his haunches and examined the indentations. "It appears thin wheels with a heavy load have been through here."

"Would the mark still show after several days?" Jennifer asked.

"Very possible."

"Could it have been the wagon our neighbor saw?"

"Yes, especially, if the boys ride their bikes through here; and knowing kids, they'd try to stay in the track, making it a game of skill."

He climbed back on the Polaris. "Let's see where it leads."

Turning into the forest, the vehicle climbed through the tall grass with little effort. Hawkman followed the path. At times, the trail grew faint, and he made the decision to keep in the area where openings between the trees were wide enough for a trailer to pass. It seemed they bounced over the terrain for a good thirty minutes before Hawkman crested a hill and brought the four-wheeler to an abrupt halt.

"Why'd you stop?" Jennifer asked.

"I just saw a reflection up ahead in those trees."

"What do you think it is?"

"Could be a gun."

"Maybe we're close to the cabin, and the sun is reflecting off of a window pane."

"I don't think so; it moved. This vehicle is not quiet and I'm sure we can be heard a mile away."

"Are we going to move on?"

"You want to take the chance?"

"If we don't, we'll never find where Randy lives."

"Okay, hold on."

Jennifer quickly grabbed hold of Hawkman as the vehicle jerked forward and bumped over some stones. He continued to slowly follow what he thought to be a faint trail through the trees, which would break out occasionally into an open area, leaving them vulnerable. Hawkman eyed the region where he'd seen the bright flash of light, but saw nothing which could have caused it. This made him more suspicious and wary of their surroundings.

"I can smell food cooking," Jennifer said.

Hawkman sniffed the air. "Me, too."

Suddenly, a shot rang through the air, and Hawkman maneuvered the four-wheeler behind a big oak tree. "Hit the ground!" he ordered.

Jennifer literally fell off the Polaris. Keeping low, she crawled behind the tree trunk. Hawkman followed suit and rolled in front of her, shielding her from harm.

"Where'd the shot come from?" she asked, nervously.

"Up front. It went over our heads like a warning." He stood and stepped out in the open.

"Hawkman, be careful," she whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Who's out there?"

"What are you doing here?" a loud gruff voice boomed from the shadows.

"Taking a ride," Hawkman answered.

"You're on private land," the voice said.

"You the owner?"

"No, but I have permission to be here. You don't. So get your butts off the property."

At that moment, Jennifer whirled around when she heard a branch snap. She sucked in her breath as a long haired young man, dressed in worn jeans, tee shirt, and work boots, moved out of the foliage with a rifle aimed at her head.

Raising both hands, she pleaded. "Don't shoot. We mean no harm. We're looking for Randy Hutchinson. Do you know him?"

He lowered the gun. "What you want with Randy? Is he in some sort of trouble?"

"No, not at all. He just told us his family had recently moved into the area. My husband and I thought we'd ride up and welcome them."

Staring at Jennifer, he yelled, "Hey, Dad, they know Randy."

A burly man, with a large brimmed straw hat, carrying a long barreled rifle in one hand, stepped into the light and marched toward Hawkman. Noticing the man's determined gait, Hawkman stood perfectly still, figuring the blast from such a weapon would make a huge hole in your chest.