CHAPTER 1

Christina made a full turning sweep, hope of locating her wagon and her family waning. She knew now that it had been foolish to wander away, and all she wanted was to get back to the haven of the wagons. She stood upon her tiptoes and began another swirling revolution, as graceful as a ballerina’s pirouette; however, the wagons remained elusive. All that lingered in view were wheat-like stalks of grass, swaying in the breeze as if happily mocking her in her distress.

Upon the start of a third revolution, a stand of trees appeared at the edge of the prairie. As with the grass, the branches swayed to the silent rhythm of the wind, but instead of appearing blissful in their dance, the twisted branches seemed an evil that beckoned her. A violent shiver quavered throughout her body. Sweat broke out upon her brow and began trickling down toward her eyes, wide with sudden disquiet.

With a determined will, she turned her body from the tree line, and sank to her knees, a feeling of misery bullying her confidence. She scolded herself for foolishly unheeding her brother’s warning. He bade her not to wander from the safety provided by the encircled wagons. Why had she not listened to his wisdom? Though younger than she, he was more aware of dangers lurking on this trip—far more than she. Though younger, she respected his knowledge and appreciated his loving concern for her safety—so then why did she not listen? What was it that made her disregard his warnings; disregard her own safety?

It is entirely the giant rabbit’s fault, with those horns upon its head! That is where the blame lay! She huffed at her deflection, but was certain that she would not have gone wandering were it not for the strange-looking beast hopping past her, flaunting it unusualness. After all, hadn’t Alice also followed an unusual animal and ended hopelessly wandering in Wonderland? Well, her rabbit may not have been wearing a waistcoat and timepiece, but it was sporting antlers, which certainly gave just cause for further inspection. Perhaps these rabbit-like creatures were the cause of all ill-fated happenings, or perhaps she had followed the strange animal to her own Wonderland.

Maybe she was dreaming, as Alice had been, and she was but within her musty Conestoga, safely ensconced within her scratchy woolen blanket. Perhaps, when her story played out, she’d waken to find she’d never left the safety of the wagon’s enclosure after all.

As if thinking of the four-legged, horned-eared hopper made it suddenly appear, it stood but a few feet in front of her, sniffing the air with its delicate pink nose, absurd in contrast to its giant back thumpers and its deer-like horns.

“Well, what say you then? Your presence led me away from the wagons, so perhaps you’d be kind enough to hop back the way we came? I thought as much!” Christina watched the Jackalope as it continued sniffing the air. “I must say that it is rather unsporting of you though. After all, I would not be sitting in the middle of a field, had it not been for you, so the least you could do is assist me in finding my way back to where I belong.”

The Jackalope did look at her then, and Christina decided its sudden attentiveness was granting her permission to resume her monologue, “Well, if you don’t intend to return me to my wagon, could you perchance explain where this little escapade is leading me? Especially as I cannot see how standing in a field could possibly be considered adventurous.”

She huffed at the Jackalope’s refusal to respond, and stood with a flourish, “Well then, I suppose I will simply have to take matters into my own hands. I can’t risk not getting home before nightfall, and I certainly can’t accomplish my goal sitting here feeling sorry for myself, so I guess it’s just a matter of determining which course to set out on.” Her sudden shift startled the Jackalope and it bounded away faster than she could blink, leaving her to wonder whether it was merely a figment of imagination. Its speed, she finally concluded, could only be the result of imagination and thus convinced herself that she was in a sort of Wonderland dream state. One from which she was more than ready to waken.

She glanced up at the sun, her brow furrowing in confusion. If she were sleeping, why was it daylight? Her self-assurance spiraled away again, replaced with indecision—running amok inside her mind. Was this real? Had she really followed a creature out into the middle of nowhere? Was that even like her to do something so foolish? Try as she might to recall, her memory failed her.

Well, it appeared that if she was going to return to her family, she would just have to set course, and pray her decision was true.

She lifted her skirt and started pushing along through the tall grass, but a movement in her periphery stopped her. “Not this time, Mr. Rabbit! You are not going to distract me yet again!” Yet her feet acted in direct defiance to her words, stopping their forward momentum. “Traitors!” She accused, staring down at her feet.

The distraction moved again and she turned toward the tree line once more. She determined not to follow the rabbit further, but that did not mean it did not hold a fascination for her, for she’d never seen anything like it in all her years back east. It was truly a marvel to behold.

She scanned the trees, but the movements had stopped. She squinted against the sun, lifting her hand to block out the bright rays, and peered between the trees. Something was there. She could feel it watching her.

There!

Beside one of the trees were two eyes staring back at her, the sun’s rays creating a haunting red glow where eyes should sit. The sight had her backing away, which restarted the movement that had brought her to a halt to begin with—only now that movement was directly on course with where she stood. When the beast moved from beneath the shadow of the trees, Christina gasped and stumbled, falling on her derriere, frozen in terror.

The beast looked to be half man, half bear, and white as newly fallen snow, with eyes pitch as night, yet somehow familiar in their frostiness. It lumbered toward her, its gaze, unfeeling, daring her to run, goading her to succumb to her fate as fodder. It reared onto its hind legs and let out an ear-piercing bellow that shook the earth underneath her bottom. The shudder beneath the earth jarred her from her daze, and she scrambled to her feet.

Run! Her mind yelled at her, but her feet were slow to respond.