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scent of burning wood and silvery flute music drifted through the fog-shrouded tops of towering fir and hemlock trees. Mist rose off a cushioned forest floor that was a mosaic of countless shades of green. Starflowers were just beginning to blossom amidst the interwoven ferns and mosses, bright harbingers of summer. Except for the distant music, the occasional chirp of a bird, and the sound of water running over rocks, the ancient old-growth forest was as silent as a cathedral.
    When he reached the edge of a clearing, he saw them: a dozen women, all as naked as the day they were born. Hands linked, they’d directed their attention toward a woman who stood atop a pyramid of stone between twin fires. Her hands reached skyward, her voluptuous body outlined by the light of dancing flames. Long waves, topped with the woven band of red and white flowers that encircled her head, streamed down her bare back like molten silver. Despite the fact that her hair was no longer a rich, tawny blond, Coop instantly recognized her.
    She was half chanting, half singing, while a heavyset young woman with her hair braided in colorful ribbons sat cross-legged in front of the stones, playing a flute.
    “Ancient ones, trees of ancient Earth. Older than time can tell. Grant me the power at your command to charge my magic spell.”
    Coop wasn’t all that surprised to discover Lilith Lindstrom had grown up to be some sort of witch. After all, she’d never really fit into the hard-working community of loggers and fishermen. Flighty, harebrained, and frivolous had been a few of the descriptions he’d heard over the years. Jealous wives or worried mothers of sons were more likely to call her dangerous.
    Coop, however, had always thought her magnificent. And as elusive as quicksilver, as out of reach as the moon. Deciding that she wasn’t really going to escape, not dressed—or undressed—the way she was, he folded his arms, leaned back against the gigantic trunk of a red-barked Western cedar and waited for the show—which included several provocative references to fertility—to come to a conclusion.
    When it did, Coop began to slowly clap his hands. Heads swivelled toward him and female faces drew into tight, disapproving scowls. All except Lilith’s.
    “Cooper!” Bestowing a smile as warm as a thousand suns upon him, she stepped down from the stones and ran toward him. “What a lovely surprise.”
    With her usual impulsiveness, she flung herself into his arms and touched her smiling mouth to his. The kiss was light and brief. But it still sent a jolt straight to his groin.
    “Imagine seeing you here,” she said when he’d lowered her back to the mossy ground. “Do you know, I was thinking about you just last month. It must have been a foreshadowing. When did you get back to Washington?”
    “A couple weeks ago.” Around them, the other women were wrapping themselves in capes or pulling on sweats. If Lilith felt at all ill at ease about her nudity, she was sure hiding it well, Coop thought.
    “I wish I’d known. I would have thrown you a huge blowout of a welcome-home party.”
    “I’m not going anywhere.”
    “Well, then there’s still time.” Seeming pleased with that prospect, she nodded. “What brings you out here?”
    “I work here. In the park.”
    “Oh. Well, isn’t that a coincidence? You being out here, and us running into one another—”
    “It isn’t exactly a coincidence. I received some complaints.”
    “Complaints?” She lifted a brow and combed a hand absently through her hair, causing it to drift over her breasts. Her still-magnificent naked breasts. “Whatever for?”
    “To begin with, there’s the little matter of an illegal fire.”
    “It’s Beltane. We couldn’t possibly celebrate without our fires. In the olden days the druids passed cattle through the flames to ensure prosperity. Since that seemed a bit impractical, we reluctantly decided to forego that portion of the ceremony.”
    Practical