TERRY

“My love, we did not need to leave yet, not for me,” Eva said as she settled in the car. “With a little more time and patience, we might have seen Natalie smile.”

I sighed. “Not likely she’ll be smilin’ real soon, sweetheart. Besides, it’s not just the work at your dance school we need to get back to. I got a business to run and a whole new structure to implement. You warm enough, love?” I couldn’t help but smile. My Spanish sheila was not built for Vermont cold. But bloody hell, she looked beautiful, her nose all red and almost buried in that white cashmere scarf wrapped three times around her neck.

I started the engine and pulled out, watching her look back. It feels good, knowin’ she likes my family, likes the Inn. In a lot of ways, that place is home to me. “Anything you want in town before we head back to New York?”

Her head shook and nose burrowed deeper so I stoked the heater higher. It hummed from the dashboard and I heard her sigh with comfort.

“Well, just gotta stop in to have a little chat with Ben then we’re on our way.”

Leaving the car running and the heater blasting, I hurried into the Stowe City Office Building. Ben was at his desk, looking through papers when I tapped on his opened door.

“Thorne. You headin’ outta town?”

“Yeah, yeah. Wanted to talk with you a tic.”

“Sure, close the door.”

“Thanks mate,” I sat, ran a hand down my chin. “Listen, I need ya to keep your senses up about the family. I had planned to do a little test of my new business structure after Thanksgiving, but if the mood’s still …”

“Yeah, I know. Babies dyin’ ain’t so good for anyone. I’ll let you know if things get worse, or better.”

“Thanks.” I stood, readied to leave then grinned. “Hey Ben,” I nudged my chin toward his left hand. “If you’re really wanting to keep your marriage a secret, you might wanna hide that ring in your pocket.”

Ben turned the ring on his finger, cleared his throat then shook his head. “Nah. If they know, they know.”

“You don’t get it, mate,” I chuckled. “You will pay for not telling everyone. It’s how this family works.”

“My business if I married Tracy. Besides, it weren’t the right time for celebratin’ anyway.”

I nodded, understanding, but sure as bloody hell hoped the shit would hit the fan before I got back to Vermont.

JACK

The sun had long risen; mellow through the curtain of heavy winter clouds and pressing against my closed eyes. Nine o’clock and I was still in bed. Natalie had long ago left to care for Chelsea and I am finding it difficult to face another day. I have done all I can to be a good and attentive husband, but I know I am simply going through my paces, checking duties off my list. At times I even fear that being so close to my wife and daughter, another tragic disaster will befall them, as though I wear an albatross around my neck … have whistled in the wind. After all, not everything is in Stephen’s books and not everything can be explained logically.

It has become my habit, especially since Stephen left for the Naval Hospital, to find solitude any way I can. The patterns were familiar, just as the ones onboard the ship; although much has altered. I do not eat much and have occasionally found myself avoiding a meal altogether. I pace the gazebo as I did the quarterdeck, back and forth, back and forth, puzzling out a dilemma I am surely losing any understanding of. I spend the evenings with little Chelsea, but I do see the despair in her eyes reflecting the pain in her mother’s.

I speak when spoken to or when necessary, but never talk. I smile when appropriate, but never with a nature I have been most accustomed to. I am a shell of myself and fear there is nothing left to refill the emptiness. I have avoided the pub and the rum and the fine wines from the Inn’s extensive cellars. I have enjoyed one thing and one thing only … coffee. Black. Strong … but not strong enough to keep me awake as I find myself seeking the silence of an empty bed long before Chelsea will permit Natalie to rest.

I am lost.

EGAN

We made better time than I’d expected, pulling into Stowe on Route 108 a little after 10:30. We’d driven straight through from Brattleboro, anxious to settle in and enjoy the weekend, leaving the long journey behind us. Reckon I’m growing soft as I get older; once I could trudge through the rain and mud on horseback for days on end and not mind the muck. Until recently, the solitude of working on a production platform in the middle of the Gulf surrounded by harsh weather seemed to agree with me. But right now all I wanted was a hot shower and a warm home cooked meal before facing the changes that were still yet to follow. I glanced over at Jacob, knackered out peacefully and clinging to a ratty old sweatshirt. Faded and worn, I’d been tempted to leave it behind in one of the hotels we’d visited during our adventure, but turns out it belonged to his mum.

I’m still workin’ through how to deal with the memories of Laurie. Maybe I was blind to any signs of self destruction at the time, but the beautiful girl I had known eight years ago bore no resemblance to the woman whose life had later spun out of control. Jacob and I haven’t really begun to talk much about it; guess I’m just waitin’ for the right moment and I don’t want to push. Hopefully once we’re settled in and surrounded by family, he’ll trust me enough to open up about his mum and we can both start to find a little peace.

I was so busy thinkin’ about other matters that I missed my turn off to Mountain Road. Pulling a u-turn I started to backtrack, taking a fast glance at the scribbled instructions across the back of an old envelope. I almost missed a stop sign and Jacob jolted awake as I hit the breaks.

“Sorry mate.” I reached over and ruffled his hair. “We’re almost there.”

He yawned sleepily and then I saw the flashing lights in the rearview mirror. Bloody hell. I pulled over to the side of the road and reached for my wallet. Jacob picked up on my irritation and twisted in his seat, glancing through the back window as the police cruiser pulled up behind us.

“Dad, it’s a lady cop.”

SAMANTHA DE LA CROIX

I called in the truck’s make and license plate to dispatch and it came back clean. Apparently just another turned around tourist who needed a friendly reminder to pay attention to the road. I grabbed my citation pad and went over to dispense a bit of Vermont hospitality. The driver rolled down his window as I approached. 

“Good morning, sir. May I see your license and registration?”

“Um, mornin’ officer.” He gave an embarrassed smile as he dug through his wallet.

The little boy in the passenger seat gave me a shy wave hello as I leaned over and looked through the driver’s window and smiled back, pleased to note they were both wearing their seatbelts. 

As the driver handed over his license I got a better look at his face. Oh my, he sure as hell was pretty. Wavy chestnut colored hair, a scrabble of beard, piercing green eyes and fully worthy of bronzing. Damn, even his driver’s license photo was attractive. How do some men do that? The resemblance between him and the boy was unmistakable. “Welcome to Stowe, Vermont, Mr. Walsh. Do you realize that you made an illegal u-turn back there?”

He ran his hand through his hair and made a sound as if to clear his throat. “Sorry, Officer. I missed my turn off, guess I wasn’t payin’ attention.”

If I only had a dollar for every time I heard that one. Problem is, it’s usually true. I pulled out my pen and started writing out his ticket. “Texas is a long way off. Where you headed?”

“We’re visiting family up at the 1876 Manor House on Mount Mansfield. You know the place?”

I nodded and continued writing. “I was just out there the other day. It’s quite lovely.” If one didn’t consider the current murder investigation.  “How long you staying?”

“We’re gonna live here,” the boy volunteered. It was then that I noticed the cast on his arm.

“Well, you picked a nice time to relocate. Stowe’s a wonderful place to call home.” I finished writing and handed the man his ticket. “Just follow Mountain Road; you’ll see the Inn as you get closer to the top and there’ll be signs pointing the way. And Mr. Walsh, please be careful. The snow’s mostly melted right now, but there’s still a few patches up on the hill and the road’s steep and often slippery. I’d hate to get a call about an accident.”

He nodded as he accepted the ticket, his eyes falling to my name badge. “Thank you, Officer De La Croix. We’ll certainly careful.”

Good Lord Almighty. I think his eyes actually twinkled. I walked back to the cruiser and watched as he pulled back onto the road. The little boy turned and waved goodbye to me through the rearview window and I couldn’t help but laugh. I wish everyone I had to issue a ticket to was as pleasant as those two. Too bad they’d be staying at the Inn with that damn Sheriff Wade.

JOHN

Riles and I were standing on the porch, watching the main gate and starting to worry about Egan; I was sure he’d gotten himself lost. He was a half hour late.

“Nathan, come up here out of the snow, bubby,” Riley called.

“Leave him play,” I grunted. “Where the hell is he? When he called last he was at the edge of town, should’ve been here by now. Maybe I should just go out and find him.”

Riley chuckled. “Give him a few more minutes; maybe the kid needed a rest stop, John. By the way, what are we going to do about Ben?”

“Ben? You mean him getting married without telling us? Nothing. Why?”

“God sakes, John. It should be celebrated.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to celebrate. It’s not exactly happy times at the Inn, baby,” I watched Jack leave the front door, walk past with a blank nod and head off to the damn gazebo again.

Riley sighed. “I guess you’re right. Nathan, don’t throw snow.”

I was about to join the kid, start tossing snowballs at Riles when I saw the truck enter the gate and Antony wave. “He’s here.” We headed to the parking lot, Nathan in my arms and Riley nearly jumping out of her skin with excitement.

“Egan!” she cried as he climbed out. She wrapped her harms around his neck then rushed around to the passenger door.

I hugged my brother tight then he looked at Nathan.

“Bloody hell, look at this little bloke. Not so little, are ya mate?” Egan laughed.

“Hi. Who are you?”

“I’m your Uncle Egan … and this,” Jacob came around, narrowly escaping Riles’ enthusiastic embraces. “This is your cousin, Jacob.”

My son actually reached out and shook Jacob’s hand. I thought that was kinda funny. “Come on, let’s get inside, show you your suite then have a nice hot lunch.”

Riley had outdone herself with Jacob’s room. It looked like something out of a Star Trek set and the kid was mesmerized, almost didn’t want to leave. We took them on a quick tour of the Inn then up to our place. Lunch was simple, a great soup Riley likes to make in the winter, sandwiches, salad. Jacob didn’t eat much but was polite as can be. When the boys went to play with some of Nathan’s toys, I asked about the trip.

“Long,” Egan groaned. “But good. Glad we’re here.”

“This is your home, Egan,” my wife poured coffee and kissed the top of his head. “And we’re so glad to have you. What are your plans for today?”

“I’d like to be takin’ it easy, but I think we’ll unload the truck, get settled in then head over to Lachlan’s house. Lots to talk about, with the new business and all. Grateful to have work, ya know. Should get to it soon as I can.”

Riley sat, nodded. “I’ve made all the arrangements with the school. Jacob starts on Monday and the school bus will pick him up here and drop him off either at Lachlan’s house in town or here at the Inn. They did say he’ll need to be tested, just to make sure of the grade he’s ready for.”

“He’s a smart little bloke,” Egan beamed. “He’ll be fine. Oh … look at this …”

I watched as he pulled a citation from his pocket.

“Got myself a movin’ violation. Took a U-turn where I shouldn’t have I guess,” he chuckled and I looked at the ticket.

“Forget this. We know the sheriff. Consider it fixed.”

“She was a pretty copper, though. Real pretty.”

LACHLAN

“Hey, how’s supper coming?” I edged in behind Jess as she stood at the sink peeling cucumbers and copped a grab of her bum. “Smells wonderful.”

She pushed back against me and giggled. “Mmmm … better stop that, flyboy. Our guests’ll be here before you know it.” She didn’t make any attempt to pull away. “I hope Jacob likes spaghetti and meatballs. Riles says he’s a real picky eater.”

I sniffed at the air and smiled; the scent of roasted garlic made my mouth water. “I reckon just about every kid likes spaghetti. It’s messy, fun to eat, and tastes great.”

Jess reached over her shoulder and stuck a spear of cucumber into my mouth. “I hope so. I feel so bad for the little guy. Losing his mama the way he did and I feel real bad for her, too. It says something that she kept him with her, even when she was barely able to take care of herself.”

I shrugged. “She made her choices.” I couldn’t understand why Jacob’s mum never let Egan know about his son. From what I’d heard, she could have used the help.

“Yeah; I guess she did.” Jess sighed and turned to face me. “I’m glad Egan’s trying to do the right thing. I can’t imagine trying to raise a child without any kind of family or support.”

“Egan’s a good bloke. Doesn’t always have a lot to say until you get to know him; he’s a bit of a deep thinker.”

“As long as he doesn’t go around brooding like Kim.”

Poor Barrett; he’s had a rough time of it every since his break up with Emily. I was about to grab another slice of cucumber when the doorbell rang. “Well, maybe seeing Egan again will do him some good. Believe it or not, the two of them actually got along quite well once upon a time.”

We headed towards the entry and opened the door together. I wasn’t quite prepared for what awaited us. Egan stood there smiling with his hand protectively across the shoulder of a little lad that was his spittin’ image. I almost choked up for a moment when I met Jacob’s eyes; would our own child bear such a strong resemblance to either me or Jessie?

Egan looked good. A bit older like the rest of us, but he was still unmistakably the same brother I’d always known. It’d been too damn long since we’d last seen each other and I clapped him across the shoulders, grinnin’ like a bit of a loon.

“Fair dinkum, mate. Where’d you get all that gray hair?”

He hugged me back, laughing. “Bloody hell, look who’s talkin’. Looks like you’ve got a few gray hairs yourself. Maybe even gained a few stone as well.”

I patted my stomach and grinned. “Home cookin’, mate. Does it every time.” I turned and winked at Jess, grabbing her hand. “Egan, meet Jessie.”

He leaned down and kissed her cheek in greeting. “So you’re the sheila who finally snapped this lazy bogan into shape.”

Jessie smiled. “He’s not all that bad … once he learned to put down the toilet seat after he was finished.”

“Yeah, we always had that same problem with him, too.” Egan winked and put his hand back on Jacob’s shoulder and gently drew him forward. “I’d like the both of you both to meet my son. This is Jacob.”

Jacob seemed a bit shy, but it was obvious that Jessie’s belly fascinated him as she leaned down to greet him. “I’ve heard so much about you, Jacob. I’m so happy to finally meet you in person.”

He looked up at Egan, his eyes uncertain as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. Egan gave him a gentle nudge. “It’s okay, mate.”

The little bloke seemed to consider something for a moment, then stepped forward and gave Jessie a hug. Jessie ran her hands through his wild mass of curly hair and hugged him back. “Oh, now that’s what I call an excellent hello.”

He looked over at me and smiled shyly. “Hello, Uncle Lachlan.”   

We all laughed then and the ice was broken. Ushering everyone back inside, we gave them a quick tour of the house. Jacob’s eyes grew wide when he caught sight of Kahlua and I’ll be dammed if the cat didn’t start purring like a motorboat when he reached out to pet him.

“He likes it when you scratch his cheek, like this.”

Jacob followed Jessie’s lead, and Kahlua rubbed up against his legs in ecstasy. “He likes me.” The boy seemed amazed by this discovery.

We all headed back into the kitchen and Jessie made a suggestion. “Why don’t you two go upstairs and talk business while Jacob helps me with dinner? It won’t be ready for another thirty or so minutes yet.”

I grabbed a couple of beers and motioned for Egan to follow me to the office while Jessie had Jacob wash his hands. “You can help me make the lettuce for the salad.”

“You know he’s eatin’ up all this female attention,” Egan said as we made our way upstairs. “Riles is absolutely clucky over him.”

“He’s a handsome lad, mate. Nothin’like his father.”

Egan chuckled. “I have the feeling I’ll be sayin’ the same to you when your nipper’s born. How’s it feel to be where you are right now?”

“Best feeling in the world. I’m sure I’m in for some surprises, but I’m ready for all of it. What about you? How are you coping with Jacob?”

Egan sat back on the old worn couch and took a sip of his beer. “Baby steps. He’s a smart little lad. I have no bloody idea what I’m doing’, but so far, we’re doin’ okay.”

“It’ll work itself out. Once we get you to workin’. Ready to talk shop for a bit?” I reached for the pictures of the old farmhouse we were renovating for Skinner. “Looks like Ben Wade’s gonna be a client as well.”

I handed him the photos and his expression grew serious. “Listen, Lach. I wanted to thank you and the others for making this easier for us than you had to. I appreciate what everyone’s done.”

I felt a warm feeling in my chest and I shook my head. “We’re a family. That’s what families do.”

JESSIE

My heart went out to Jacob from the moment Lachlan told me about him. And when I stood on the porch looked into his big green eyes for the very first time that evening I gave a silent prayer for his poor mother.

“Have you ever made salad before?”

He shook his head and climbed up onto the chair I’d pulled over next to me. I sat a basket of cherry tomatoes down in front of him, explaining how to place them into the bowl with the lettuce. Once we were finished with that I had him help me butter up the garlic bread. It was a little awkward with his broken arm, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Do you like spaghetti?”

He bit his lower lip and nodded. “My dad said I had to try to eat whatever you fixed for dinner.”

“Do you wanna try a little taste?”

He nodded again, watching me very seriously as forked a few strands of spaghetti noodles into a small bowl and spooned a little sauce over them. I spun the fork around and held it out to him to taste. “Blow on it first, then take a bite.”

He leaned forward, blowing much too hard and sending spaghetti sauce flying. He glanced up at me for a moment and when he saw me smiling back at him, took the forkful into his mouth. A smile quickly formed on his sweet face and he started to chew. I spun another forkful and his mouth opened again and I was reminded of a hungry little bird.

“I take it you like it?”

He smiled and nodded. “That’s better than Chicken McNuggets.”

Heady praise indeed. I reached for a napkin and wiped spaghetti sauce from his chin. “If you finish all your dinner you can have chocolate ice cream for dessert.”

“I’ll try, Aunt Jessie.”

Baby steps, I reminded myself. “Wanna help me finish setting the table?”

I showed him how to set up the silverware at each place setting and afterwards while the garlic bread was baking Jacob sat on the floor and became better acquainted with Kahlua. That cat’s such a big baby, and it was obvious he was quite taken with Jacob; he flopped over onto his back and even let him scratch his stomach. 

“My dad said we’re gonna get a dog, but we’ll have to wait ‘til we get settled. I think I’d like to have a cat, too. My mamma liked cats. Her name was Laurie”

I gave another silent little prayer. He’s safe, Laurie. And I promise he’ll be well loved by all of us.

SID

Oh yes, my little children, I’m always watching. They don’t know it but I am aware of every foible, every fuck up and every misstep they take … especially this family. I’ve been watching over them for years. It’s … shall we say … a hobby of mine.

Every time they dial a phone, I hear the conversation. Every time they turn on a television or boot up a laptop, I’m there. (Biebe’s got a thing for porn, did you know that? Shocking.) Every time they make a move, I can feel it. Over all this time it has been entertaining, and I have taken a few occasions to intercede. Even help them out, but do keep that quiet.

Take that fiasco with the Portals. Now, I do have something to do with the Portals but I won’t say what, or how much. They’re not completely in my control and they do find ways to mess with my manipulations, but I have uncovered how to force an issue here or there. It was me who made sure Biebe got himself pulled back. He’s the most centered and I was betting that he’d bring back the right message. If one of the General’s or Thorne had left, they’d have acclimated. If Wade was sucked back, he’d have enjoyed it. But I couldn’t have that. How would my chess game work if the pieces could just walk off the board anytime they pleased? Not during my game and not while I’m winning. And I always win.

I can manage who comes through too. Don’t like that Braddock fellow, so he’s not here and I can guarantee you that fat bastard from Body of Lies won’t be showing up either. With the glitch I still have difficulties over, that man who died on the Titanic would pop on in too. I shudder to even think about it.

Humans. Fragile, weak, soft. They take a lot of care. Like pets who aren’t quite housetrained. But I’m nothing like them and at times I need to play. Oh, I don’t kill anymore. The blood stains my suit. But I do have my fun. It was during one of my forays, inventing internet viruses and messing with Windows Vista (such fun!) that I missed something bad coming. I’m usually on top of things; I made sure the Inn didn’t burn down once because of a major electrical malfunction. Guaranteed that the construction financing would continue after Riley and John tied the knot and broke all the original game rules. I controlled the thrust and angle of the blade that sliced Thorne’s tendons. It could have stopped his heart; instead, the damage only changed his professional focus. I do things like that all the time for my pets. I protected Lachlan from dying in that car wreck … watch over O’Brien every Saturday on the race track. I do my part. But this … this I missed.

I’ve been sticking close to the Inn, buzzing in the intercoms, radios, even the walkie talkies the construction men were using. But now, I’m listening for one thing only. The Aubrey’s mourning. Humans die and at times I don’t see the reason for mourning, can’t quite grasp the concept. This one hurts even me, an ache in my gut that won’t stop.

Jack is in need a serious readjustment and if I could, I’d simply rewire his brain to face the facts and move on. It wasn’t his fault that woman burned down his house and killed his little daughter … it was mine. I should have been watching closer. Ah well … the damage is done and I can’t rewire the good Captain … but his wife? Women are a delicious concoction of emotion and logic. This I could do.

She had been playing along, acting the part of a good, centered wife, caring for the baby left alive and trying to appear on firm footing. She’d taken Maximus’ advice and as smart as it might have been, (humans think very irrationally), I don’t see how it’s helping. It’s wrenching my heart again and again, every time she sits alone and cries her eyes out. This … this … has got to stop.

She was in her living room, sobbing to the droning television as little Chelsea napped in the nursery. I had had quiet enough. Out of the screen I popped and to my amazement, she wasn’t even surprised, didn’t even stop crying.

“Go away, SID.”

“Now, now, little dove. Is that any way to talk to a guest? A family member come to cheer you up?” I glared.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Little dove?” I cocked a brow and stood directly in front of her. “Because Jack calls you that? Tsk, tsk. You have lost your sense of humor.”

Her glare was substantial; I have always admired that in Natalie. “Go … the fuck … away. I don’t want a sense of humor … and I don’t care to play games with the likes of you. Leave me in peace!”

“And this is peace? Natalie, I can make this all better, little dove.”

Another glare.

“I am prepared to replace Catherine. You can have your daughter back, whole and alive, crying and wetting her diapers and … well, whatever else you like so much about babies. I can give it all back to you.”

Her eyes went wide, her mouth dropped and I was pleased. This is the reaction I prefer from humans.

“You can’t be serious. SID, Catherine is … she’s dead. You can’t bring her back to me,” she sniffled and cried harder.

I don’t like this. I sat at her side, put and arm over her shoulder the way Jack does and rocked her tenderly. “I can replace her, Natalie. Good as new.”

“But not real, SID. Not Catherine. Not nearly Catherine.”

“But close enough to ease your … tears. It could be good for you.”

“No,” she turned, suddenly not crying. “Oh God, SID, you have no idea how much I would love to let you do that but … no. It’s wrong and it’s … not her. She’s dead.”

I was in a quandary. I never expected her to refuse such a gift! Then she sadly smiled at me.

“SID, I am sorry I was so rude to you. You’ve made an incredible offer … but you know what?”

I blinked. I never blink. That’s something my foolish brothers do when women baffle them. But I blinked, and blinked again. “What?”

“You’ve given me something even bigger. My daughter is dead, but I still have a daughter … and a husband who loves me and needs me. Until I realized that … I was totally miserable. Oh trust me, I’m still miserable … but at least now I know … it’s time to move ahead.” She hugged me and kissed my cheek. “Thank you so much SID. Thank you.”

Well damn. Perhaps I need to rethink the manipulation of the females in this family. I must be losing my touch. I stood, smoothed my jacket and turned toward the television screen.

“Don’t leave, SID.”

“What?” I looked over my shoulder. There were still tears in her eyes but there was more there. Something positive. Something was working right inside her.

“I said, don’t leave. Thanksgiving is coming. You should be with the family for Thanksgiving. We do have a lot to be thankful for.”

I shrugged, another thing I never, ever do. “I’ll come back for the holiday.”

“Stay, talk with me a little longer. I need your advice regarding Jack. How can I reach him?”

This was a first. I sat in a chair and rubbed my chin. Natalie wanted my advice?

RILEY

It was seven PM and I was beat. I had been helping out in the kitchen. With the first snow comes the first round of nasty colds. For some reason, culinary workers always succumb first. I think it’s from being in a hundred degree kitchen, slipping into a walk in cooler or freezer, going back to the heat then leaving for home late at night when the humidity is high and the temperature is drastically low. Of course, no one wears a coat; the cars are parked close enough. Take all that, roll it up with a random sneeze, and voila … cold epidemic. On the bright side, a cold means a person cannot work in my kitchen, so the rest of us and our diners are safe from it all. I personally don’t have to go out to a car after midnight. I just climb the stairs to my warm bed.

I’d worked the early dinner shift. Reservations were light and Chef Chris kicked me out. I was looking forward to sitting and playing Go Fish with Nathan. Yeah, I lead a pretty boring life, and I love it.

Passing the front desk I saw Colin. He was leaning over, talking quietly to Marla and I edged closer. I wanted to sneak up and get a laugh out of scaring him. What I overheard sure as hell didn’t mean this was going to be fun … and scaring Colin was definitely in the cards.

“Just need a room for a few nights. On the QT love,” he said.

Marla grinned. “A suite for you and Mrs. O’Brien?”

“Ah … no … just me.”

Okay, I’d heard enough. “What’s wrong with your own house, Col?” I hissed and he turned a glare.

Leaning that rebellious, casual lean, he growled. “Carrie’s there, that’s what’s wrong with my own place.”

“Come with me,” I snapped and turned back to the kitchen. I didn’t think he’d follow, but he did. The minute Chris saw my face, he gathered the order sheets he was working on and quickly evacuated his office. I stomped in, waited for Colin to thump into the chair then slammed the door closed. “What … have … you … done?”

I plopped into the big desk chair and glared. What I saw pretty much amazed me. It wasn’t going to be the shouting match I expected. Slowly his belligerence melted, he rubbed his eyes and for the first time in a long time I saw the tender heart I knew was inside Colin.

“Bloody hell, Riles,” he groaned. “What haven’t I done?”

I leaned back, sighed. “Start at the beginning.”

He rolled his neck, looked at his hands the whole time he talked. “Been … cheatin’ on Carrie … a lot. Messin’ with drugs. Drinkin. I dunno. Maybe it’s winnin’. Maybe it’s the road, the fuckin’ racing culture, I dunno.”

“Maybe,” I said softly. “Maybe it’s you, Col.”

He blinked and slouched deeper.

“Look, I love you, you know that … but I think maybe it’s time for a little tough love. Colin, you’ve totally disappointed me. You’re thirty-eight years old. You need some focus. Face it, you never had it. You’ve spent your whole life just floating along, not even knowing what’s going on around you. It’s time to be a man, buddy. Time to grow up.”

He groaned and leaned his head back, looked up at the ceiling but didn’t argue.

“Even with Nat, she was more like your mother than a lover. She took care of the bills and the management; she made sure you had what you needed. Now … with Carrie … it’s your turn to take care of things and you’re blowing it.”

“What am I gonna do, Riles?” His voice was so soft it was breaking my heart.

“Well, you’re going to go home and you’re going to talk to your wife. Face the problems, Colin. Take responsibility. Only you can fix this.”

“What if she’s already gone?” He finally looked at me.

“Then you go find her.”

“What if … what if she won’t bloody take me back?”

“Then … then you’ve really fucked up this time. All you can do is try, Col. Tap into your heart. You’ve got a good one. I know that for a fact.”

He sighed and stood. “Love ya too, Riles.”

“Go fix your life, okay?” He turned to leave and I grinned. “Hey, Colin?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you come here? I mean, there are at least a hundred hotels, motels and inns between Burlington and Stowe. Why here?”

He shrugged. “Guess maybe I knew either you or John would kick my arse back into shape.”

CARRIE

Just when I thought I had no more tears, there came more. My throat hurt from crying and screaming at the walls, at the closed front door, at myself. How could I have failed my marriage so badly? I know I’m young, I know I wasn’t really prepared for being a wife, but I foolishly thought love would get us through. All I could think was that Colin just didn’t love me anymore. Now how was I going to deal with that?

Already my mind was slipping toward the future. A future alone and sad. I could go back and live with my folks. I could find a new job. But how could I do any of that if all I wanted to do was sit on my sofa and cry?

I don’t know what to think or what to believe. I can’t imagine what I did so wrong that would turn him away, make him walk out on me like that. No matter how many times I think it all through, I can’t pinpoint when it started or how it got so bad.

I should go to bed, but it wasn’t even ten o’clock. I should call someone, but who could I tell all this to? Who would understand? Who would be logical and not simply call Colin every name in the book. I’m such a stupid woman; I didn’t even realize I was losing my husband! I really, truly believed it would all settle as soon as we got back home to Vermont. I was actually happy when he said he wasn’t going back to finish out the season. I’m a fool. A blind fool.

When the door opened I actually leapt from the sofa, looking around for something to hit the intruder with. Panic made me almost choke and I was shaking so hard I could hardly stand. I had a lamp in my hand when Colin turned the corner and stood there, just looking at me.

“Gonna hit me with that?”

My head shook.