Legend of Spiralling Cedars

By Natasza Waters

West of the Rockies an ancient legend exists. The Coast Salish aboriginals call it See'atco. Campfire stories and reports of sightings make the skin crawl. The forests of British Columbia are supernatural, but Park Ranger Rachel Crossing and a team of Canadian JTF2 SpecForce operators discover the legend is not only real—but deadly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natasza Waters
• Release date: Nov 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9780995259843

Natasza Waters

Natasza Waters debuted her first romance novel in 2011 for readers who enjoy a cup of romance with a twist of steam. After majoring in English, Natasza's life altered course. After thirty-four years of service in the Coast Guard, a few crow's feet, and deeper laugh lines, she now spends her days crafting stories. Readers can look forward to romance, action, and suspense in her award-winning novels.

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Legend of Spiralling Cedars

Natasza Waters

Sensual Romance

ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only own ONE LEGAL COPY for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer or device to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the Canadian and United States Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer or device.

Legend of Spiralling Cedars

E-book ISBN: 978-0-9952598-4-3

First E-book Publication: November 2018

Cover design by Dawné Dominique

Edited by Write Right Edits

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgment

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

About the Author

Dedication

For Tamara Hoffa. Friend, editor, author, wife, mother and so much more. When I was a fledgling, you kicked my butt out of the literary nest, and your words of encouragement were the wind beneath my wings.

Acknowledgment

SAYING THANK YOU HAS always been difficult for me because the word doesn’t seem enough. To my crit partner, the talented Sheri Fredricks, and my editor Carolyn Shelly Depew: You both turn my garble into something readable. Captain Kimberly and my street team who I can trust with their honest opinions.

Legends of Sprialling Cedars first appeared as a serial for readers of Ind’Tale Magazine.

Finally, to Tamara Hoffa, who passed away October 22nd 2018. You supported so many authors in the indie world. Your own novels, an example of the happily ever afters we all seek. Now, we go on without you, but I’ll always remember your friendship and encouragement.

Legend of Spiralling Cedars

Chapter One

ANGRY WORDS AND THE stomp of visitors’ footsteps alerted everyone inside Spiralling Cedars Provincial Park headquarters seconds before the door burst open.

Rachel raised a brow at her park rangers working behind the counter. Lacy, sitting at the communications desk consisting of a radio, computer, landline phone, whiteboard, and a map of the park hanging on the wall with a multitude of colored pins, swiveled her chair. Samuel, William, and Sarah’s heads tipped up from their morning duties in the office before they headed out on patrol.

This should be interesting, Rachel murmured. They’d almost made it to lunchtime without a query or complaint.

A woman’s high-pitched voice broke the sound barrier. Arthur! I’m telling you, it’s kids and we need to report this.

The door, darkened with age to a deep caramel color, flew open and Cynthia Meadows stepped into the park’s central, one-stop-shopping visitor centre.

I’m telling you, it’s an animal, Cynthia’s husband, Arnold Meadows, grumbled, rambling into the room behind her with his signature bow-legged gait.

Rachel! Cynthia swung a gaze, boiling with anger in her direction. At sixty-five years and resisting old age with dyed, flaming red locks held back by a green hair band, one of Spiralling Cedars more vocal residents didn’t believe in going grey without a fight. We’ve had trouble at the cottage. Someone trashed our place!

Cynthia, Arthur. Let’s talk in my office.

Rachel led the way down a narrow hall of the hundred-year-old log cabin. Although they kept a tight ship, the aging timbers released a musty smell that lingered in the air.

She elbowed open the door with the name set into a small holder: Rachel Crossing, Senior Park Ranger.

Cynthia followed, but couldn’t wait to sit down before speaking. Rachel, if you can’t keep park visitors—and more importantly, the young hoodlums who camp here—out of my private property, I’ll be forced to contact not only the police, but your manager.

Rachel rounded the pine desk handed down to each Senior Ranger who’d held the position in the park, and gestured for Cynthia and Arthur to sit while she settled her coffee mug next to a pile of papers waiting for her signature.

She’d known the Meadows for five years. They were the first neighbors she’d met after earning the post located in the heart of the west coast’s outdoor playground, famous for its trails and crystal green lakes. The BC parks service had been her first, and probably last, career move since she’d graduated from the University of British Columbia with two degrees. One majoring in biology, and the other in natural resource management. Ever since she was seven-years-old and hovered a wiener on a stick over her first campfire, she knew what she wanted to do with her life.

She loved British Columbia. She loved nature. And most of the time, she loved working with the public.

Rachel lifted a pad of lined paper from her top right desk drawer and plucked a pen from her pocket, compliments of the shoe-string budget that came with a hundred and thirty thousand acre park she was expected to operate.

From the start, Cynthia. When did you arrive home?

Arthur jumped in to answer. A lot of folks joked how he was a whipped husband. Truth was, he’d mastered the art of marriage versus the art of hiding a body. He had the patience of Job.

Rachel, sorry to bother you. I keep telling Cyn it’s probably a bear. He swiped his hand through the air with a laissez-faire motion. We’ve been in Arizona for the last six months, snow-birding. Just got back this morning.

Rachel nodded as she wrote a few notes. Thousands of retired BC’ers spent the winter south of the border. As soon as April rolled around on the calendar, they all flocked home to enjoy the lush, green forests, snow-capped mountains and comfortable climate of summer. The small, privately-owned community where Arthur and Cynthia lived nestled itself against the western border of Spiralling Cedars Provincial Park, situated between Squamish and Whistler.

Dealing with critters wasn’t out of the ordinary, living west of the Rockies. Grizzlies, racoons, deer and plenty of smaller animals inhabited BC’s backcountry. Residents understood that living in the province known for its supernatural beauty required taking precautions because bears loved garbage and cougars loved small domesticated animals as a snack.

How much damage, Arthur?

Cynthia thrust forward in her chair, the beads of her multicolored necklace flopping against her ample chest. It’s not an animal. It’s kids. Rotten teenagers with little to no respect for private property.

She listened patiently. Okay, let’s start with how they got in.

Front door. Cynthia plunked back in her chair and