
Chapter One
"Don't do this, lad. You should get some rest."
"We've had this argument before, Hugh. Don't worry about me. I'll feel better after I've been outside."
Blain stared out the back screen door knowing his uncle was right. He couldn't get over the illness
plaguing him, keep up with the farm work and still go out in the woods at night. But it wasn't something
he could help. He simply had to go or face being even more sick. He dragged his gaze away from the
woods and glanced over his shoulder at Hugh once more.
"What about tomorrow? If you go out tonight, how will you feel then?" Hugh asked, frustration in his
voice.
"I'll worry about that later. I appreciate your concern, but don't wait up. I can deal with this," Blain lied.
Once he was outside and away from the farmhouse, he stripped off his clothing and ran naked, as
though his life depended upon being in contact with nature. In fact, he believed it really did. Because he
was weak, he had to push himself, but the effort paid off. When he finally reached the end of a very long
forest path, he stopped and rested against a tree. The illness already seemed to be leaving his body.
He dragged fresh, clean air into his lungs and sank to his knees. The doctor had been unable to tell him
why he was sometimes so weak he could barely move. Was his sickness something rare? Something they
couldn't diagnose and for which there was no cure? He didn't know why running naked made a
difference in how he felt, but he had to do it. It was an obsession. And because that yearning was so
abnormal he wondered if his mind was failing along with his health. Would he not only end up dying
slowly, but insane as well? The fear that he might scared the hell out of him. There were only two people
in his life that he could go to with his fear—his girlfriend, Rhiannon and his uncle, Hugh.
He'd tried telling Rhiannon about the malady plaguing him but talking wasn't one of her favorite
pastimes. She preferred raw, unadulterated sex. As much as she could get. At one time it had pleased
him to give it to her. Now, even sex made him feel drained and weak. Only by running in the woods at
night did he find any peace. Afterward, he felt whole again. Strong and ready to face a new day.
Hugh was the only one who knew about his nightly nude dashes through the woods, and he didn't seem
to consider Blain's actions as odd. And that, in itself, was bizarre. Anyone else would have called a
shrink and had him committed by now.
But how long could the cycle of work, illness and running nude in the woods at night last? It was an
absurd way to live. But since medical science had no answers, he relented to the call of nature and let
that be his treatment.
The longer he stayed in the woods, the better he felt, so Blain lingered to gather more strength. A full
moon hung overhead like an ornament, and it vaguely reminded him of something he couldn't quite
pinpoint. Had the moon's surface been shiny and cast a reflection, its appearance would seem more
appropriate to him. He had a faint sense that what he was thinking of or remembering might have been
something out of the past. Something he'd heard one of his parents speak of. Whatever it was, the
moon's surface just needed a little imaginary rearranging, and he might be able to grab onto the memory.
The more he struggled to recall that elusive memory, however, the more vague the entire concept