chest.

“Huh...wha...?” Baloo snorted. “Is it mornin’ already?”

“No.”

“Oh...” he yawned. “Good.” He scooted further down underneath the blankets, snoring softly.

“Baloo!” Rebecca whispered loudly, giving him a savage pinch on the arm. She was growing increasingly angry with each cold raindrop that dropped on her. A freezing rivulet was running down her back. “Help me move this bed!”

“Why?” Baloo murmured drowsily.

“Because I’m getting soaked, you idiot!” She yanked him by the ear so that his head was directly under the leak.

“Yeow! That’s cold!” He was now wide awake.

“No kidding,” she said sardonically.

“Well, ya got your shower, Becky,” Baloo said with a wan chuckle.

“Can the jokes, Baloo. We need to move the bed.” Rebecca crawled out of bed.

Yawning mightily, Baloo unwillingly got out of the nice, warm bed to stand on the cold, bare floor. “Okay, one, two, three, lift.”

They strained and struggled against the bed frame, but it was no use. The cantankerous bed wouldn’t budge.

Rebecca got down on her hands and knees. Squinting into the darkness, she could see that the bed’s legs were bolted to the floor. She let out a frustrated sob. She was tired and cold and all she wanted to do was sleep. To add insult to injury, she needed to use the bathroom.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. If we can’t move the bed, we’ll move the mattress.”

Baloo picked up the mattress, blankets and all, and set it down in front of the fireplace, the only place big enough on the floor to accommodate the mattress. “There ya go, Becky.” He immediately dropped on the mattress and resumed snoring.

“My husband, the romantic,” Rebecca said drily, hands on hips as she looked down at him. "No date, no snuggling, because, as usual, Count Casanova fell asleep right after dinner. I bet he doesn't even remember what today is."

She tiptoed to the other bed. By the dim light of the fireplace’s glowing embers, Rebecca could see that her children were sleeping soundly in the next bed - Kit hanging off one side and Molly hanging off the other side with Cassie between them. The baby, lying lengthwise across the pillows, her thumb in her mouth, was blissfully unaware that she was hogging the bed. Rebecca carefully turned the baby ninety degrees and tucked the blanket in around her.

Then, shivering, she got into her own bed. With a sigh of disappointment, she pulled the blanket up to Baloo’s chin. Here they were before a fireplace with the fire embers softly hissing. The steady pattering of raindrops on the roof made the little log cabin even cozier, but Baloo was oblivious to it all.

She was just drifting off to sleep when Baloo murmured, “Warm enough, honey?” Before she could answer, he gathered her in his arms.

Rebecca, resting her head on his chest, answered, “I am now.”

“Good.” Baloo smiled at her and tenderly brushed a lock of hair from her face.

Rebecca returned his loving smile. “Baloo, do you know what day this is?”

“Uh, I dunno.” He shrugged. “Every day feels like Saturday this week.”

“It’s our anniversary.”

“Oh, yeah...” He thought for a moment before saying, “Two years.”

“Twowonderful years,” Rebecca added, nestling against him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Baloo asked tentatively, “Do ya ever wish that you could...ya know, leave me?”

“Leave you?” Rebecca shook her head, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Never. Murder - now that’s a different story.”

Baloo chuckled and gave her an affectionate squeeze.

“What about you?” Rebecca asked.

“Nah. The thought never crossed my mind more’n six or seven times. Or was that ten or eleven? I dunno. Lost count.”

Rebecca playfully punched him in the stomach.

Baloo said, “Know what I learned the past two years?”

“That you have to wait until I’m asleep to raid the fridge?”

“Very funny, Becky.” He gently tweaked her nose. “I learned that bein’ tied down ain’t so bad.”

At that moment, Cassie came tumbling onto the bed, regardless of her parents.

“An’ here’s one of them little anchors now.”

“Brr!” Cassie shivered, burrowing under the blankets face first. She turned around and snuggled up next to Rebecca, clutching fistfuls of her mother’s nightgown. “Wight?”

“Not light. Dark,” Rebecca said. “It’s still night, baby.”

“Sleepy time, Cassie,” Baloo added gently. “Close your little peepers.”

In compliance, Cassie squeezed her eyes shut and scrunched up her nose.

“Funny little munchkin,” Baloo said, smiling at the toddler on his chest.

Rebecca sighed contentedly, hugging Cassie. She wouldn’t trade all the riches of the people lodging at the fancy hotel for the happiness she was feeling at that moment. “We’re all here, safe and warm.”

“No pirates this year,” Baloo pointed out. “No bad guys chasin’ us.”

“A nice, quiet anniversary,” Rebecca said.

“Shh!” Cassie whispered, putting her little paws over her parents’ mouths.

“My goodness, you’re bossy, Cassie,” Rebecca said in mock-consternation.

“Gee, I wonder where she gets that from?” Baloo said airily, prompting an annoyed glance from his wife.

“Lubs.” Cassie gave both of them sloppy kisses, which were readily returned. Once again, the little bearess snuggled up to her mother and quickly dropped off to sleep.

“Lub ya,” Baloo whispered, kissing his wife.

Rebecca returned his kiss. “Lub you, too.” She pulled the blanket over Cassie’s thin shoulders. “I’m glad we’re here, out of the rain. Well, sort of.”

Through a yawn, Baloo said, “Told ya my ideas were good ones.”

“You got lucky, flyboy.”

Baloo gazed deep into his wife’s big brown eyes. “Yeah, Beckers, I did.”

Somewhere in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Mountains

A certain weasel wasn’t feeling quite so lucky. As Weazel drove along the lonely mountain pass, his bloodshot eyes peered through the pouring rain in an attempt to see the slippery road. The steady squeak and thump of the windshield wipers threatened to lull him to sleep. However, he refused to allow sleep to overcome him. The mere memory of what he had been through during the past three days fired his brain into wakefulness. He was determined that on the morrow he would be the possessor of Emperor Karat’s treasure map, and he didn't care what he had to do or who he had to hurt to get it.

End of part 4

A Map Made in Heaven
part 5

Manitoo Springs, Coloradio
Cave of the Four Winds
Tuesday Morning
Day 4

Weazel sat in his car, impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. While waiting for the von Bruinwalds to arrive, he flicked his beady black eyes around at his surroundings. The small parking lot contained five cars, not including his own black Fjord. His gaze shifted to the red-roofed stone building that doubled as gift shop and entrance to the cave. Rising directly behind the building were the sharp, pointed peaks of the Rock ‘n’ Roll Mountains, speckled with evergreens and scrub bushes. Finally, he looked up at the clear azure sky overhead.

All was silent save for the wind whistling through the trees.

Frowning, the weasel pushed up his sleeve to check his wristwatch. Then, he picked up the clipboard from the seat. He squinted up at the sign on the building’s roof. Spelled out in large, unmistakable red letters was “The Wonderful Cave of the Four Winds”. He was at the right place at the right time, all right. He hoped that the von Bruinwalds weren’t deviating from the schedule; that would be unacceptable.

Weazel angrily tossed the clipboard back on the seat and ranted to himself. “I’m here, the cave’s here. Why ain’t they here? Slept here in this freezing car all last night and what am I gettin’ out of it? Nothing but a stiff neck and bein’ stiffed by those dumb bears. Ah-ah-ah-choo! And a cold!” He drew out a handkerchief to blow his nose with a loud ‘honk’. “Where the heck are they?” When he saw the von Bruinwalds’ car pull into the parking lot, he said irritably, “About blinkin’ time! They’re two stinkin’ hours late!”

He scrunched down in his seat as well as his pudgy body would allow. His ears strained to hear the von Bruinwalds’ conversation through his open car window.

“Yay! We’re here!” Molly exclaimed, bounding from the backseat. She slammed the car door, then pulled on her lavender jacket.

“We would have been here sooner if someone hadn’t taken that wrong turn,” Rebecca said, shooting a pointed look at her husband over the top of the car. She buttoned Cassie’s yellow cardigan and retied her violet hair ribbons before slipping on her own coat.

“Aw, lighten up, Beckers,” Baloo said, reaching into the car for his leather flight jacket - a gift from flying legend, Rick Skye. “We gotta make at least one wrong turn per trip. Right, Li’l Britches?”

Kit grinned as he slipped on his own bomber jacket. “That’s usually the way it goes, Papa Bear.”

“‘Course it ain’t no fault of my ace navigator,” Baloo added quickly. “Kit’s never steered me wrong yet, but

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