COLIN

I feel numb.

I don’t know of any other way a man’s supposed to feel when his wife walks out on him. Some’ll say that it’s a time for celebration, but what comes next are all those bloody ways to get numb, after that, there's lots of cleaning up to do. I don’t need to wrap my car around a light post, puke in public, or spend the night in jail for drunk and disorderly from drowning my miseries. Besides, I didn’t feel like getting drunk.

I stood outside and watched the glowing taillights of Carrie’s taxi as it drove off out of sight. The air was freezing, but it felt kinda comforting to stand there in the dark without a jacket, not minding the sting of the cold settling under my skin. I don’t know how long I stood there at the end of the shoveled walkway, wishing I knew what to bloody do next. I might’ve stayed out there all night, but my bones started achin’ and I started to shiver, and I realized that I was numb enough. For now.

Back inside, I wandered from room to room like a night watchman making his rounds. Not sure what I was lookin’ for, but it was something that involved little effort and kept me movin’. Nothing out of place, I wandered into the kitchen and my eyes scanned the expensive granite countertops, empty but for an expensive gourmet coffeemaker one of Carrie’s friends gave us as a housewarming prezzie. Made of chrome, it caught the light like a welcome beacon. In spite its modern space-aged design, it looked both extraordinary and ridiculously normal in a kitchen that hadn’t had the chance to see much use. But normal was good, and at that moment, I could think of nothing more normal than a strong cup of hot coffee.

Halfway into my second cup, I decided that maybe now I should sort through the unpacked boxes in the room I used as an office. Carrie was responsible for having the architect design it with a wall of industrial looking windows so it would remind me of being inside a professional garage. Canvas shades worked with the flick of a remote control switch to block out the sun and I’d spent the better part of two hours one afternoon just playin’ around with the different settings. Carrie laughed at me, commenting how easily most men were entertained. I didn’t realize it at the time, but remembering the expression on her face, I recalled a tone of sadness and an edge of bitterness in her voice. I’d still thought she hadn’t known about my foolin’ around with other women, but I realized just then that she’d probably known from the beginning, even before I stopped caring about trying to hide it anymore.

The office was warm and the shades were all drawn, thank bloody God; not having to see my image reflected in each one of those nine windows offered a bit of relief from my guilty conscience and heavy heart. Glancing around, I tried to decide which group of boxes looked the most ready to be tackled, and settled on several smaller ones holding various office supplies and other silly knick knacks. I’m not sure how long I worked on those boxes, but there was only one left after I’d cleaned off my third pot of coffee.

I think I unconsciously saved it for last because it held several framed pictures and mementos from the past year, and Carrie was in several of ‘em. I’d never bothered really looking at any of them before; at first glance, they were all the same; me in the center surrounded by my pit crew and one or two pretty sheilas, holding a large trophy of one sort or another. Carrie was there as well, standing just off to the side and smilin’ and lookin’ just as happy. But then I noticed halfway through that she started standing further back into the crowd in the pictures that followed, her smile fading, and then she went missing from the last few pictures altogether. I think that’s when it finally hit me.

I had stopped feeling numb and the full force of what I’d done hit me hard between the eyes. I got up from the floor and went back down to the kitchen in search of a beer.

JOHN

Tuesday morning and I was dressed for ski patrol. Riles knows I love the days I work on the mountain, but this morning she looked like she hated that I was going. “What?” I said blankly. “You know I work Tuesdays and Thursdays, baby. How am I supposed to pick up Jackie in Burlington at eleven when I work from eight ‘til four on Thursday?”

“I just thought … I thought … argghhhh.”

Well, I was fucked. Can’t read minds, even my wife’s … hell, especially my wife’s. If she’d have told me, I could have made arrangements. Too late now. High season and over fourteen feet of packed powder on Mount Mansfield ain’t no time to be taking a day off with little notice. We’re busy as hell. Just yesterday I brought down two injured skiers and a man who’d broken a fiberglass Rossignol Zenith 10, graphite based, high speed carving ski in half! How the fuck he did that was beyond me. More than that, why he couldn’t get down the black diamond on only one of those thousand dollar skis baffles the imagination. The general consensus in the lodge among us patrol guys was simple. Too much ski, too little experience … and the damn dude should’ve spent his grand on something else.

All that aside, I now had a problem. A big problem. Who was gonna pick up Riley’s Dutch friend? Then I heard the dreaded words I never like hearing.

“John … just forget it. Don’t worry about it. I’ll work it out.”

Shit, shit, shit. “Baby, we’ll work it out together. Let’s talk about it when I get back, okay?” Got myself a half-assed kiss and headed out the door. She’ll cool down by the time I got home. I hope.

On the drive up to the lodge I got lucky. Ran right into the solution. Gerry Kennedy was crossing Maine Street for the bank and I skidded the jeep to the curb. “Gerry!”

Easy as fucking pie. Gerry would pick up Jackie at Burlington Airport at eleven AM on Thursday morning and bring her back to the Inn. I mentally brushed off my hands and headed to the mountain. Sometimes life is easy … but only if you remember to tell your wife how you solved the problem.

I didn’t. Sometimes for a smart man, I’m pretty damn stupid.

JACK

Although I had enjoyed the holidays, there was still much to consider. Several decisions required my attention and they weighed heavily on my mind. One of the foremost was finding a new home for my small family. John and dear Riley had been most generous, and it brought peace to my mind to have them close, but it was time Natalie and I sought a place of our own.

I had thought I found one; a lovely house in the Arts and Crafts style that Natalie loves. But, alas, it did not pass inspection; faulty wiring or some such bother. It was not irreparable, but to put things right would have been expensive. After some discussion, we chose not to purchase that home and to continue our search.

Meanwhile, I have spent some hours every day at the stable. Natalie could not have chosen a better mount; fast, smooth, plenty of heart. Licorice got so that he knew when I was due to arrive, and I could hear him nicker for me as I drove up. Well, for me or for the apple I invariably had hidden in my pocket for him.

It was during a particularly pleasant ride that it came to me … a solution to our housing situation. A horse farm! I could purchase a broodmare and breed Licorice. I could envision it clearly … a large farm with many horses, a warm house and hearth, Natalie smiling, little Chelsea growing up to be an expert horsewoman. The more I thought about it, the more my certainty of the solution grew. It was the perfect plan.

After returning home, I discussed this new plan with Natalie and she shared my enthusiasm for it. She suggested speaking with my brothers, Egan and East, inquiring on the cost and other requirements of setting up such  stables, and possibly sharing in the venture. Both brothers had much to say on the subject and while they were not interested in joining in my venture, they gave their advice freely and it was much appreciated.

We have spent the last few days looking at various farms. None so far have met all of our requirements; a house large enough for entertaining family and guests, large stable, barn and other out houses, enough land for the horses to run and to have a garden … a vegetable garden! I remembered my cabbages at Ashgrove fondly and thought it would be just the thing to grow them again.

The next two days, however, Natalie must continue our search alone. It is essential that I meet with the dean at the Maine University, Patrick Griffin, and inform him of my decision to relinquish my teaching post at the university. I must confess that after the events of last year, my heart is no longer in it. Also, I must come to some resolution on what to do with my ship. She must be sailed … it is what she was built for and it would be a heartless thing to deny her that pleasure. I will put my mind to the matter on the drive to Portland this morning.

RILEY

I plopped onto Natalie’s kitchen chair and groaned.

“What’s up with you?” she said, pouring a cup of coffee for me.

“I got things on my mind.”

“And this is new?” her hands opened and I rolled my eyes. Nathan and Chelsea were playing peacefully on the floor, building towers with Nat’s newly acquired Tupperware and laughing every time it fell.

“I’m pissed at John, though I shouldn’t be. I thought he’d pick up Jackie at the airport on Thursday, but he’s working ski patrol. If I’d have mentioned it last Friday he could’ve gotten a replacement for the day, but now … too late. Now I have to figure out who can go to Burlington to get her. I’ve got that big meeting Thursday morning with PPG for their convention this summer.”

 “I’d do it, but Jack’s taken the car to Maine.” She patted my hand. “Hey, Riles, don’t worry about it. You’ll find someone.”

“I know, I know.” A sigh ragged from my lungs and I toed the monster tower until it crumbled, to the kids’ great delight. “There’s more.”

“What?”

“I’m worried about Colin.”

Nat pushed back her hair. “What’s he done now?”

I felt bad, being the one to make it sound official, but I needed to talk about it. “Carrie filed for divorce last week. She left for a job in California. I haven’t heard from him since.”

Natalie blinked.

“We should go check on him,” we said at the same time. Man, I was grateful she wanted to go with me. Last time this happened, when Natalie left him, I went alone to check and see if he was okay. He wasn’t. He was drunk as a skunk and frankly a little violent. The experience scared the crap out of me and as concerned as I was, I didn’t want to go by myself.

“Who’s going to watch the kids?” Nat lifted Chelsea to feed her a bit of cookie but the baby struggled to get back to the Tupperware construction project.

“We could take them downstairs to the daycare, but Nathan doesn’t like Becky Bickly.” At the very name, my son scowled. Damn, he looks more and more like John everyday.

“I have an idea,” Nat said as she reached for the phone. She dialed, waited then smiled wide. “Hey Claudia. How are you? Uh-huh … yes … hey listen, isn’t Antony off today? Right … you guys have any plans? No? Great … I was wondering, well we, Riley and I were wondering if you could watch Nathan and Chelsea for a few hours. We have to run into Burlington … yes … wonderful. Thanks so much.”

We gathered coats and kids and headed out. Antony and Claudia live in the cottage near our pond, a quaint little place that also houses all the property security equipment. We entered and climbed up to the second floor and knocked.

It was always fun to see Antony when he’s relaxing. Everyday he seems more and more like a Crowe creation; wearing sweats, barefoot with mussed hair and a big grin. What a boon, Chelsea adored Antony and behaves so well with him; and my little one is totally in love with Claudia. We definitely got lucky, and for a moment I thought to push my luck and ask the former Roman general if he’d like to pick up Jackie on Thursday. But seeing the big favor he was doing for us now, I felt I’d be asking way too much.

The solution to that problem happened as we were driving out of the main gate. Max Skinner was driving in. Maxi, being the hoity-toity appropriate Brit, stopped, opened his window and smiled.

“Ladies, delightful to see you both.”

Two minutes later we were heading for Burlington, all my thoughts on Colin since I now knew who was picking up Jackie on Thursday.

We parked at the new house. Col had just bought it for Carrie last year but they barely spent any time in it, what with the NASCAR schedule and all. Before we climbed out, I told Nat what happened last time, just to warn her about what we might be facing. The information distressed her and I gripped her arm.

“Hey, you don’t have to come in with me. Just … if I scream or anything, call 911, okay?”

“I’m coming in with you. Poor Colin.”

JESSIE

I’ve quickly discovered there’s no longer much time for anything that doesn’t involve the baby. Eat, sleep, cry, poop, cry some more … my mother keeps assuring me that it’ll get easier once Amanda starts sleeping through the night and I so hope she’s right. Don’t get me wrong; Lachlan and I adore our little girl, but I don’t think either one of us was prepared for just how tired we’d end up being.

Lachlan’s a natural when it comes to being a daddy. I love watching him when he holds our daughter; how his eyes soften and his whole expression lights up when he speaks to her in that low sweet voice that he once shared only with me. Every evening after he comes home from work is their special time together; he’ll sit her back in his lap and coo silly lullabies and tell her all about his day while I fix dinner. It’s so cute how Amanda quiets down and seems to hang on his every word as he details how Egan smashed his thumb while hanging drywall or how Jeff and Matt fought the battle of the solar water heater. He tells her about the new projects they’ve lined up and how he won a bid on one hundred year old maple flooring from a soon to be torn down old warehouse in Montpelier and how he’s got his eye out for salvaged wood from a barn slated for demolition in Roxbury.

I listened closely from the kitchen, as this is Lachlan’s way of telling me all about his day as well. If I have any questions or comments I’ll wait till we’re sitting down to dinner or later after we’ve put Amanda to bed. But my ears pick up when I hear him mention Max Skinner; the frustration in his voice is obvious and even Amanda seems to understand, growing fussy and squirmy, finally letting out a wail of protest.

A moment later, Lachlan came in to join me, Amanda tucked safely in the crook of his arm as he bounced her softly in an attempt to set her back at ease. My heart swelled but then my brow furrowed when I saw the pinched expression on his handsome face.

I set the green beans in the steamer and turned down the flame on the burner. “Wanna talk about it?”

He reached for the salad bowl sitting on the counter and pulled out a crouton as I handed him a cold bottle of beer.

“I don’t blame Skinner for being anxious; the house is taking shape and we’re right on schedule, but he wants to move in before our completion date.”

I watched as he took a big gulp, then sat the bottle down on the counter as he moved Amanda to her carrier, rocking it softly to keep her from crying.

“But isn’t that kind of a good thing? I mean, it sounds like he’s excited and wants to be in his own place. He’s such a total bachelor and I’ll bet he’s itchin’ for some privacy.”

Amanda let out a squeak and Lachlan smoothed the back of his finger gently against her cheek. “He’s driving us all batty. He comes by the house three, four times a week, askin’ how much longer before the appliances are installed and wantin’ to know why the skylight in the master bathroom had to be replaced.”

I smiled sympathetically and turned to check on the casserole. “Well, why did it? Need to be replaced, I mean?”

Lachlan groaned. “One of the roofers lost his footing and stepped a bit too far backwards. He didn’t fall through, but his nail gun did.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. And then I had to scramble and turns out that particular window had been discontinued and had to buy a replacement. Two hundred dollars over cost. We’re still on budget and the new window actually looks better, but it’s the little things like that that are driving me crazy. Skinner’s pestering doesn’t help.” 

“Maybe we should invite him to dinner.”

“I hope you’re joking.”

I leaned against the sink and braced my arms along the soapstone edge, smiling at my husband’s expression. “Think about it. It’ll give him a chance to ask you all his questions and you can gently remind him that the signed agreement had the completion date in early spring. Let him know that you understand his anticipation and slug back a few glasses of wine and ask him about his vineyard. I know he can be demanding, but he’s family and he’s done a wonderful favor by signing you and the guys on for this project.”

“Well, this project has sparked a fair amount of interest. We’ve had a few write ups in the Burlington Press and we just signed on Ben and his wife as clients. There’s two more old homes on the market and a couple more are coming up for bid at the next auction.”

“For salvage or renovation?”

“Both. A couple of old farmhouses that I think we might be able to save and a Victorian that I’m afraid might be beyond redemption. Amazingly, no one’s done much scavenging and there are six fireplace mantles still intact. Get this; one’s ebony and the others are oak and mahogany. There’s even a six foot cast iron bathtub.”

“Wow, you sure the place can’t be saved?”

“Might not be cost effective, not unless some rich dreamer with deep pockets comes along lookin’ for his own money pit. Sometimes you just gotta know which ones are worth saving and which ones you need to let go. It’s kinda sad when they’re beyond hope. May sound crazy, but sometimes I think I hear these old homes talkin’ to me.”

I knew all too well what he meant. Ever since we moved into our home I’ve had the strangest feeling of someone watching us. It stopped for a while and I thought it had all been in my imagination, but since Amanda’s arrived, it seems to be starting all over again. I can’t quite explain it; but it’s like whatever’s here seems happier now, as if it likes having a baby around. Maybe I’m still just imagining things. I didn’t mention it to Lachlan though; I’m afraid he’ll just blame it on my shifting hormones or something. I quickly changed the subject.

“Mashed potatoes or stuffing?”

Lachlan took a final swig of his beer and belched, a teasing grin lighting up his face as he looked at Amanda and then back at me. “How’s about both?”

MAXIMUS

Two more days with the family in this lovely town. I have always thought highly of Stowe Vermont, of the power of Mount Mansfield and the energy of the Biebe’s land. During my visits I make a point to stop at the Bear’s grave; the grave of the man who was also a bear, the bear who was also a man. The heroic spirit being that saved my brother John’s life once. Yes, there is much in Vermont that calls me to visit … but my home is in Sonoma.

Sophia has enjoyed our time here, the holidays and other young mothers. My tiny daughter thrives and we have been blessed with fair weather, considering the harshness a Vermont winter can bestow. This weekend we leave and I have come down to my final errands. This evening, I have brought a few cases of merlot to Gerry Kennedy’s new establishment. It has proven a successful sell, although rather expensive, at the Inn and John’s small pub, so Gerry voiced his desire to test it as a staple at his own bar.

I had parked and unloaded the cases, planning to return to the comfort and quiet of the early evening crowd and perhaps enjoy a beer. As I locked the rental car, something caught the corner of my vision and for a moment I was stunned, transported back to a time and life long ago. I drew in a slow breath and raised my head to look directly at what I could only assume was an apparition. It was not.

The man was black as night, dressed warmly in a fine wool coat and walking past me.

“Juba?” I nearly whispered.

He turned, gawked, then his mouth and eyes opened wide. “By all the gods, how is this possible? Maximus? How can this be?” We embraced as the long lost brothers we were and for a brief moment I felt the surge of my heart, thudding with memories of the life-threatening battles we had survived in the Roman Coliseum.

“Come, let me buy you a beer, brother.”

Inside, we chose a booth in the far corner, dark and private. Gerry came to the table and took our order, mentioning that he had a new wine from my vineyard. Juba said he would delight in a glass.

“Tell me, Juba, how did you come to be in Vermont? Have you … been here long?”

He understood the power of my question and leaned in to speak quietly. “I have been in this time for years. When I first woke it was as from a dream. I was in Africa and struggled to locate my village but alas, it was gone, replaced with a large, modern city. It was a terrible time of confusion, but I found my way to a skill. I became a carpenter,” he smiled and his brilliant teeth glowed against the deep darkness of his face. “I do not use nails or glue, I work in the old ways. My pieces began to sell very well and I prospered, moved to London where I now live. I have customers all over the world.”

“That is wonderful, my friend,” I grinned, still not quiet believing that we were there together.

“I am on a tour of the United States, I have many meetings scheduled. I spoke today with a man who owns a mansion near the top of the mountain. Tell me, how have you faired?”

“Do you understand how we came to be in this time? Where we come from?”

Terror rippled across Juba’s eyes and he held his breath.

“Do you understand that there is nothing to return to?”

He nodded. “I have always suspected such, Maximus.”

“Yes,” I sighed. “You and I come from a film. A trivial play for entertainment. It seems the actor who performed me, has done several films and all of us have been magically brought to this time. We have located each other and are a kind of … family. We often gather here in Vermont for holidays and family celebrations. One of them owns a lovely Inn here in Stowe.”

Juba blinked. “Surely not the 1876 Manor Inn?”

“The same,” I smiled.

“Ah, to have known of that place three years ago. I would have loved to place some of my pieces there.”

“Please, Juba. Join me for dinner at the Inn. You can meet my wife and new infant daughter, meet a few of my brothers … as you are one of us.” At that moment, Gerry came to the table to refresh our drinks. “Mr. Kennedy too is one of us.”

Gerry gawked. “What’re ya sayin’? Is he …” he looked at Juba and his mouth dropped. “I recognize you, mate. Bloody hell, welcome to Vermont, Mr. … uh …”

“Robert Juba,” my friend introduced himself and reached out to shake Gerry’s hand.

“Does John know about this?” Jerry crouched down to talk quieter and closer with us.

“Juba will meet him this evening when we dine at the Inn.”

“Great. More wine?” We nodded and Gerry stood, smiled his crooked smile and nudged his chin toward the bar. “Max, I put out a few samples of your merlot, looks like I’ll sell out in less than a week, I’ll be needin’ a few more cases once you get back and can ship them.”

“A vineyard. Remarkable,” Juba marveled.

“How long will you be in Vermont?” I asked, relaxing as our conversation would be less secretive now.

“Another day or two, no more. But I will be in Los Angeles to speak with a builder there in two weeks.”

“Then you will come to Sonoma, come to my vineyard and my home and have a long visit. We have much to catch up on, Juba. Much to catch up on.” 

“I would be honored, Maximus. Tell me, what have you named your infant daughter?”

“Lucilla.”

“Yes. Lucilla.” He smiled.
 
EGAN

Jacob interacts well with his classmates and follows instructions without fuss or fanfare. His verbal and written skills are above and beyond the average for most second graders, and he is an absolute joy to have in my classroom.

I reread the teacher’s comment on Jacob’s report card, feeling a sense of relief that he hadn’t been actin’ up in school. His grades were mostly A’s and B’s, and he seemed to be keeping up with the curriculum. So okay, if school wasn’t posing any problems, then I had to face a cold hard fact; my son was having a problem with me.

I’m not a child psychologist. I don’t believe in a lot of new age mumbo jumbo, and I think a swat on the backside when warranted is the perfect response to certain bad behavior. I believe in being loving yet firm, and I realize that young children act out when things upset ‘em. Lord knows that Jacob’s had a rough time of it in the past, and I’m doin’ all I can to make sure he has a normal, happy childhood. But somehow, I just seem to keep missin’ the mark.

Every night this week we’ve had a battle. If it’s not over eatin’ his dinner then it’s over takin’ his bath or his bedtime. It’s almost like he can sometimes barely stand to be in the same room with me and I’m at a loss over what to do next. He’s polite and loving as ever with everyone else, but the minute we’re home alone the drama starts up and I’m exhausted even before I finally get him off to bed. What the bloody hell has happened to the little boy of just a few weeks ago?

Riles smiles and tells me welcome to parenthood. Lachlan suggests that I find something that Jacob and I can do together. Well, I tried takin’ him to the stables, but the little bloke’s scared to death of horses. Jessie tells me to hang on tight and try to find patience and John tells me to trusts my instincts while Natalie smiles sympathetically and gives me a look of forbearance. Bloody hell, don’t any of them know what they’re doing?

I heard Jacob in the bathroom as he turned off the shower, and a few moments later he came into the bedroom, his skin all pink and glowing and his wet hair curlin’ up around his head like a wilted halo. He was wearin’ his favorite Spiderman pajamas and he looked so small and fragile as he stood in the doorway that it made my heart hurt.

“Remember to brush your teeth?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yes sir.”

“Why don’t you come over here and let me see?”

He hesitated a moment, his eyes darting back and forth as if lookin’ for a way to escape, but he stepped forward, stopping just inches away as he opened his mouth wide. The smell of mint toothpaste was unmistakable.

“Good boy. Did you pick up your towel?”

“Yes sir.”

“No fights over bedtime tonight, okay?” Maybe I was giving him the upper hand by giving him an option, but I was tired and hopin’ he’d see things my way without any trouble.

He nodded, then threw himself into my arms, almost knocking me back onto my bed. His arms clung tight around my neck and I hugged him just as fiercely, fightin’ back tears of what I think felt mostly like relief.  Again, I heard Riley’s words dancin’ through my mind. “Baby steps, Egan. Little tiny bits at a time.”

No way was I givin’ up on fatherhood or my son. But I sure as hell wish kids came with an owner’s manual.

EMILY

Kim was up to something; I could smell it as surely as the scent of his Armani cologne.

It all started a couple weeks ago when he told me that he was going to move out of Lachlan and Jessie’s house and get a place of his own. I fought the knee-jerk reaction of almost asking him to officially move in with me; after all, I really do want to take things slow, but then again, I’m a little afraid of what his having his own place might mean to our relationship. Talk about having mixed feelings! I want to trust him and my heart feels that he’s meaning to be sincere, but then there’s that niggling voice in the back of my mind that whispers that dreaded name, PonyGirl.

Yeah, I wasn’t exactly honest with him either when I went to New York, so I can’t very well play the innocent victim. We’ve both learned a few hard lessons and in a way I think we’ve become stronger for it, even if we still feel a little bit shaky. I love him so much; more than any other man. He makes me laugh, makes me think, makes me proud, embarrasses the hell out of me on occasion and yeah, pisses me off to the point of screaming. And I can’t imagine my life without him. So I’m really working on allowing myself to trust him completely again. I guess he’s kind of doing the same thing with me.

I tried to keep my comments about his getting his own place on the neutral side. “It’ll be nice to have your privacy again. But you’ll be losing all those home cooked meals.”

He just grinned, his whole face lighting up like a happy little boy’s. “Believe it or not, I can cook more than grilled cheese or frozen dinners.”

“Well, you never cooked for me.”

“Well, I think it’s time I fixed that.”

I let the matter rest, not wanting to pry too much into his plans. Perhaps another woman might’ve volunteered to help her boyfriend look for an apartment, but I wanted to see what he’d come up with on his own. I didn’t want to be too overbearing or smothering. If he wanted my help, he’d ask for it. It was killing me, but I forced myself to remain strong.

While at work he’d be on the phone with a business contact and at the same time be on the computer surfing local realty sites. He’d leave for lunch to go look at an apartment, not asking me if I’d like to come along. He’d grab the classifieds section of the morning paper and I’d find them strewn all over the office afterwards marked with bright red circles. I forced myself not to look at the ads; I’d just fold them up neatly and set ‘em on the corner of his desk. I imagined he’d be looking for some place with a real modern feel; lots of glass and steel and sharp architectural edges. Perhaps a converted loft or something industrial. My curiosity was killing me. But still I kept it to myself.

After a week and a half of searching, he came back from yet another lunch without me, looking more smug than usual, his eyes sparkling and his dimples driving me to distraction.

“Okay, spill.”

He gave me what I think was supposed to be an innocent grin, but he looked everything like the cat who ate the canary. “I just signed the lease.”

I grabbed a nearby file and pretended to be preoccupied. Who knew that old order forms for cleaning supplies could be so interesting? “Mmmm, that’s nice. When do you move in?”

He held up a set of keys and twirled them on his finger. “This weekend. Think you might wanna help me?”

“You know I’m not big or strong enough to move anything heavy.”

“Silly girl. I’ve wrangled Egan and Lachlan for a few hours on Saturday. You can help me figure out where everything’s supposed to go.”

I pretended to consider his offer. Like I was really going to say no.

“Wanna see it after work? I’ll take you to dinner afterwards …”

“Um, Okay.” I tried not to sound too interested, but I think he was on to me. The remainder of the afternoon seemed to drag on for hours and when we finally locked up the office for the night and made our way down the mountain, I reached over to the gear shift and placed my hand on top of his. His fingers entwined with mine as he downshifted through a turn.

“I’m thinkin’ of tradin’ this ol girl in.”

“You’re serious?” I couldn’t imagine Kim without his beloved Porsche.

“Yeah. I think it’s time to get something a little more practical, like an SUV.”

I tried not to smile, but I knew what this meant. Another really good sign.

When we reached town Kim pulled off onto a street lined with single family homes and I couldn’t hold back any longer. “I thought you were getting an apartment?”

KIM

I loved the tone of surprise in her voice. It had that sharp girly-sounding edge that younger sheilas possess. You know, that high-pitched little squee that they seem to always end their sentences with when excited? I knew then that I’d made the perfect choice, but tried to keep a poker face.

“I thought a house would be more comfortable. Besides, I’ve been thinkin’ about getting a cat.”

Emily let out a loud cackle and I caught myself grinnin’. She knows all about my aversion to big, self important felines.

“Seriously. I might even get two or three of ‘em. Name ‘em Larry, Moe and Curly and let ‘em have the run of the house.”

“Yeah, and you’ll also buy your next suit off the rack at Sears.”

“Enough, woman. You want the guided tour or not?”

The house was mid-century in design. Kind of an oddity in a town famous for its stately Victorians, but it had a bit of a modern edge without being too off the grid. There was a nice wide deck off the master bedroom in back, and a fireplace in the living room. Emmie oohed and aahed over the sunken bathtub big enough for two but I saved the best room for last.

“Wait till you see the kitchen.”

Actually, it was kind of average as far as most kitchens go; decent tile floor, dishwasher, lots of cabinets and enough room for a small table and chairs. Emmie looked at me as if a little confused, perhaps expecting something far more state of the art in design.

“It’s um, nice.”

I took her in my arms and gave her a knowing grin. “Silly woman. This is the best part of the whole house.”

I lifted her up and set her down on one of the counters facing me. I edged in between her legs and pulled her hips in close, pressing them tight against mine. “Lachlan once told me what sold him on his old house was that the countertops were just the right height for … you know …” I pressed in even closer and her eyes opened wide in understanding.

“Oh Kimmmm …”

Somehow we both forgot about dinner.

TERRY

I had a bloody mess of work to do. John had arranged for the entire available family and every single Inn employee to attend my seminar on Monday. We have the whole day and the entire formal dining room. He’d caught the importance of this test. It was the first time Dino and I would expose anyone to our new strategy for the K&R industry.

Simple … basic … no nonsense … prevention. Three hours of lectures designed to make a business or leisure traveler with decent kidnap and ransom insurance safer; how to handle a crisis incident from the victim’s point of view; and what to expect in the aftermath of a hostage experience. No one in our industry had ever attempted this approach. It was a sort of ‘scared straight’ or in this case, ‘scared safe’ tactic I hoped to see accepted well.

Only time was gonna tell and no one will ever know how grateful I am that my family and friends were willing to face the best and the worst of the real world. If this failed, I will have failed, for this is the only avenue left to me in an industry I love. My injured hand has taken me out of the field … my love for Eva has made me wish for home and hearth … and maybe a nipper or two. But for now, I was busy beyond reason with hopes of saving my career.

Dino had stuck around after Christmas and we’d put together hundreds of visual aids, negotiated heavily over how far to go and finally decided to go all the way. In my opinion, one of the reasons travelers are so unprotected was simply because they have no clue what could happen to them.

“We’re gonna scare the bejesus out of everyone, mate,” I groaned when we finalized the presentation.

“Well, subtlety has never been out style, Terry. Go loud … or go home. Right?”

“Right. I just hope we’ve got this family to come home to after all this. Ah well, it is a test and they’ll all know we want their opinion before we launch this on our clients.”