A/N: This is all-human. It has a paranormal element. This story can't decide if it's a horror, a drama/romance, or a murder mystery... So, just expect a blend of all three.

I'm still slowly chipping away at a little coda for 'A Change of Worlds', but I've actually been sitting on this story for nearly a year. It's almost finished. It's currently at 90,000 words and 26 chapters. I plan to post one chapter per week until I've finished writing the story (which I expect to be 30-32 chapters in total) and then move on to a posting schedule of 2-3 chapters per week.

Chapter 1: Second Home(coming)

"Glad you worked out which hometown you really belong to," Terry said as he flashed me a good-natured grin and wink over his shoulder. I followed him across the store towards the bank of glass-doored refrigerators that lined the back wall.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Terry. It'll take a lot to cure me of my southern ways. No doubt the first big blizzard up at the cabin and you'll find me racing straight back to Shreveport, tail between my legs."

We retrieved the two chilled and stuffed bags of groceries I'd pre-ordered and he helped me load them in the back of Alcide's truck. My train of thought hiccupped as soon as I thought his name. It wasn't Alcide's anymore – it was my truck. That was taking a good while to get used to. Terry slapped the tailgate twice after locking it into place.

"Well, I stopped by the cabin this morning before opening up the store and turned on the electric heating for you. I also set the fire, just in case it wasn't enough. The rest of the non-perishables you ordered are on the kitchen counter. I have to say Sook, the house is looking ship shape. Mitchell and Adele would be proud."

"I can't wait to see it. It's all I've been thinking about this last month." I shifted back on my heels, casting a glance up to the low, hilly range that drew around the sleepy town of Douglas. My cabin was waiting for me there, nestled just over the hills amongst the snow-dusted pines. "I'm so grateful for everything you've helped me with, Terry." I patted his arm in thanks.

"I'll hear nothing of it, Sook," he said, running the back of his hand across his scruffy salt and pepper beard self-consciously. "We look after our own here at Lake Douglas. Now Arlene is waiting on your call to have you over for dinner. She's chomping at the bit to welcome you back to town. She makes a hell of a lamb roast, so don't wait too long."

"How sweet of her. Tell her I'll give her a call in a few days once I'm finished unpacking and all settled in."

Terry handed me the spare set of cabin keys the contractors had left with him and I made him promise to charge all my groceries to my account at the store. I wouldn't put it past him to let my shopping bill slip by uncharged as a welcoming gift.

We said our goodbyes and as I climbed into the front seat of the truck, Terry called back out to me. "Hold up, Sook! I nearly forgot - did Tara tell you that there's company next door?" He was hanging his head out the entrance of his store, shielding his eyes against the morning sunshine.

"You mean at that new AirBnB place?" I called back. A vague memory came to mind of Tara telling me someone was shacking up in the new fancy rental next door. There were a handful cabins and homes along the windy road where the Stackhouse family cabin resided. As far as I knew, only one home along my stretch had permanent residents – an older couple I had yet to meet. They were two houses to the south of me, closer towards town. Most of the homes and cabins up that way were short term rentals or out of towners who frequented on weekends or for the odd vacation. Although, I had been aware a new rental place had been built next door to the north of my cabin.

"That's the one. Some out of towner... From Europe maybe? Thought I best tell you so you don't get a fright."

"Who is he? A ski bum or something?"

"Don't think so. We've hardly seen hide or hair of him in town and he's been there a few months. Don't think he'll be too much of a bother. Keeps to himself, but I hear he's nice enough."

"Now that's what I'd call a perfect neighbor. Catch you soon, Terry."

Half an hour and twenty slow, winding miles north, I pulled off Little Bank Road and onto my graveled driveway. I was practically thrumming with excitement, my fingers beating impatiently against the steering wheel as I pulled in. Bonnie seemed to notice my sudden spike in mood and lifted her shaggy head off the back seat of the truck, her nose pricked up in curiosity, scenting the air.

"Decided it's time to finally wake up, Bonnie?" I said, smiling at her form in the rear view mirror. I parked out front, ignoring the newly added garage at the side of the log cabin. It would be easier for now for me to haul my things directly through the front door, rather than use the side entrance that led into the kitchen.

I ignored all the unpacking work ahead and instead clipped Bonnie's lead on. She jumped from the backseat and let her nose lead the way through the garden and around to the lakefront facing side of the house. Her snout darted eagerly over the fresh snow, the lead pulling taut as she picked up a scent, her bushy tail wagging furiously.

She was a lean and big dog – huge, in fact. When up on her hind legs she towered over me, but she was as sweet-natured and cuddly as a teddy bear. All very typical of a Scottish Deerhound. And while she wasn't a particularly excitable pup, she was still young and the scent of any small critter would be enough for her to dash off into the woods without a second thought. For now, her lead would need to stay on every time we were outdoors.

I took a deep lungful of mountain air as we walked. It was deliciously fresh, both new and nostalgic. Clean pine and crisp snow peppered with the faint strains of wood smoke. Bonnie pulled me across the clearing and finally deemed a tall pine along the treeline worthy of doing her business. I let out a tired sigh of content, taking in the views of the thick forest and the lake further down the hill. It had been a long road trip, I was glad to be here.

A thin column of smoke rose from above the trees a few hundred yards to the north-east. I guessed that was the location of the new fancy cabin that had been built a couple of years back. I couldn't see anything from here though, the woods were too thick - and aside from the rental neighbor's driveway, which ran parallel to mine from the road for maybe ten yards before diverging away, it was impossible to tell anyone even lived nearby.

It was perfect. Solitude with the safety of knowing someone was close by in case anything happened. I figured I'd have to go down and introduce myself to the mysterious recluse at some point. I could even bake something for him, I realized with a thrill. I had time now and it had been far too long since I'd indulged in baking.

My heart clenched unexpectedly as I thought back to the last time I baked for someone. The memories were fond, but the painful ache it left behind wasn't. I gave the lead a gentle tug guiding Bonnie back toward the cabin, eager not to follow those thoughts back into their familiar dark hole. I made quick work of the boxes and grocery bags in the back of the truck and stacked them neatly in the entry way inside the house. I pulled the heavy oak door firmly shut behind me and I unlaced my boots, kicking them off beside the nylon mat.

I'd need to buy a more suitable entry mat for both inside and outside the front door. Otherwise, mud would quickly make a mess of the entryway. I hung up Bonnie's leash on the coat hooks beside the door and followed her out into the living area, carrying my groceries. Bonnie took off sniffing out the new environment and I came to a stop, taking in my surroundings.

"Sweet Lord…" I breathed. The old Stackhouse family cabin was no longer the dusty and outdated log cabin I remembered from childhood. The living area was bright and airy, the wooden walls freshly oiled, and the large stonework fireplace standing proudly with not a crumbling stone in sight. Large double glazed windows dominated the front of the living room which faced the lake, the glass rising floor to ceiling and tapering to a triangular point at the top.

The photos the contractor sent through when they'd finished their work still weren't enough to do this amazing space an ounce of justice. I walked past the living area and into the kitchen. It was ready and gleaming, with cream and bronze speckled granite benchtops, a new gas cooker large enough to feed a family of ten, pine stools sitting at an island bench at the center of the slate floored kitchen.

I set the groceries and my car keys on the nearest bench and then walked through the rest of the bottom floor of the cabin – the dining nook, bathroom, two downstairs bedrooms. All wonderfully restored. The door frame on the bedroom Jason and I had once shared was polished, but not so much that our carved graffiti was sanded completely away. JS & SS '93. I thumbed the engraving with a wistful smile.

The cabin was furnished with a hodge-podge mix of old and new. When I'd repurchased the home, much of Gran and Grandpa's furniture had been found locked up in the basement, stored safely away after all these years. Apparently, the previous owners hadn't been bothered enough to do away with them. I'd saved my favorite of the bunch to be kept in the home and donated the rest. But still, I could hardly reconcile the vacation home I now stood in against the one I spent every summer and most Christmases in as a child. While I had agonized over every decision in the last six months relating to the refurbishment of the home, to be finally standing here in the flesh… It was surreal.

I headed upstairs to the loft style master bedroom that had once been Gran and Grandpa's. I ran my hand along the walls, feeling every bump and whorl in the wood as I walked the steps.

If Terry was right about Grandpa Mitchell being proud of the life I was able to breathe back into his beloved cabin, then Alcide would have been even prouder at the way I had managed to make it all come together. I guess his years behind the helm of Herveaux Constructions had somehow rubbed off on me a little. He'd always had such good tastes when it came to this sort of thing.

I stood at the windows from Grandpa and Gran's bedroom, now my bedroom, and took in the broad view of Lake Douglas. A cool mist hovered over the forest, with snow-dusted pines rising like tall ghosts around the gray lake. It was a decent half hour walk to get down to the lake shore from the cabin, and much longer coming back up the hill thanks to the burning climb, but the views afforded by the cabin's vantage point made living at such a distance worthwhile. The areas surrounding the lake were national park anyway, so this was as close as anyone could get to a lakeside cabin here at Lake Douglas. Even the town was situated several miles away from the lake itself.

Several hours of unpacking and one pair of aching feet later, I reclined in the blessedly deep bath in my upstairs en suite. I enjoyed long baths back in Louisiana, but the climate here was much better suited to long stints in the tub. Twilight was falling rapidly over my little corner of the world, and I could see from the glass skylight above me that the cloud cover which had settled in the afternoon had finally cleared, small pinpricks of starlight heralding the end of another day. I sank gratefully into the heat of the water, allowing myself to finally relax for the first time since arriving.

In the space of eight hours, I had almost entirely organized and unpacked all of my belongings and prepped and organized the majority of my meals for the following week.

I prided myself on my organization, although Alcide thought I was tidy to a fault, but it was just the way I ticked. I compartmentalized and organized everything: my life, activities and even my mental state. It got me through childhood, through law school, and it mostly got me through the last 18 months… But I guess something had to give.

Being here was my chance to loosen up. Stuck in my early thirties as a tightly wound, widowed and overworked lawyer was not something I'd ever envisioned. I was curious to get to know the Sookie who didn't define herself solely by her rules and rituals. No, I wasn't going to be living here at the lake forever, but I wanted to make the coming months a worthwhile experience.

It was funny that for all our bullheadedness and circular arguing, it was Alcide's death that got me to finally realize maybe there was some truth in his criticisms against me. It wasn't ha-ha funny, but it was funny all the same...Truthfully, it was damn deplorable that it took such a tragic event for me to open my eyes.

I was startled out of my reverie as a shrieking scream echoed out from somewhere deep within the woods. Water sloshed over the lip of the tub as I suddenly sat up, my fingers sliding as I nearly lost grip of my wine glass. My breath came to a ragged halt and I listened closely for the sounds of anything else outside, maybe something closer. A few pounding heartbeats later, a second bloodcurdling scream followed, shrill and panicked as if someone, a woman maybe, was hurt or in danger. The wail resounded eerily across the lake and valley.

I nearly jumped out of the bath to call the sheriff, but I was suddenly brought back in time to a memory of me and Jason as kids leaping up the stairs, two at a time, to jump into bed with Gran and Grandpa, terrified by the exact same sound. A fox, Grandpa had informed us, their scream sounded just like a woman's, nothing to worry about while we were tucked up safely inside and in bed.

I let out a puff of nervous laughter and settled back down in the bath, allowing myself a moment to calm down. I'd forgotten the strange and oftentimes terrifying sounds that the woods surrounding Lake Douglas emitted. It was all normal and expected when living in the middle of nowhere. Still, I couldn't shake the eerie feeling, my tranquil mood was now ruined.

I attempted a few more minutes in the bath, focusing on steadying my breathing and letting go again. I couldn't shake the feeling. It was like that uncomfortable prickle you got when being watched. Watched by something close. Silly really, considering with the wooden Venetian blinds shut it was more or less impossible to look into the small confines of my bathroom, not counting the skylight.

I gave myself a mental talking to as I got out of the bath. I was here to finish grieving and begin moving on, not to conjure up more ghosts. I had plenty of my own, thank you very much.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please follow the story to make sure you get alerts on future chapters! Catch you this time next week.