“Just wondering,” Ian said, causing her to look up at him. “What made you call?”

  She told herself she didn’t detect resentment in his voice because she’d followed up on his visit. “I didn’t feel clear about the date the Afghan visited Mac at the FOB. It got to bugging me and since I was waiting for you to come back, I decided to make a quick call and check it out.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I thought I pinned that down for you. It was a couple of days before the shooting.”

  She shrugged. “You probably did tell me and I just wasn’t connecting the dots.”

  For Ian’s sake, she tried to pull herself out of her funk and push Cal Reynolds’ tragic death out of her mind.

  But there was something else bothering her. The picture.

  Finally, she had to ask. “Ian, I … I hope I’m not prying, but did I misunderstand you when you said you’d never been married?”

  He cut a sharp look her way. “What?”

  She felt guilty then but pressed on. “When I found your wallet, I dropped it and everything fell out. A photograph, among other things.”

  He looked down at his hands.

  “Again, I don’t mean to pry. But I couldn’t help but see it. Or read her inscription.”

  His brows tightened along with his jaw. For a long time she thought he wasn’t going to speak but then he finally shrugged. “Not my proudest moment. We were only married a few months.”

  “And you never told us.”

  Again, he shrugged. “Would have, if things hadn’t ended in such a disaster.”

  “Do you still … do you still care about her?”

  He shook his head. “No. Like I said, it was a disaster from the get go.”

  “And yet you carry her picture,” she said quietly.

  His smile was sheepish. “As a reminder of what not to do.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  “Yeah, well. Live and learn … and hey. Look. If we’re going to get you to that cabin, we need to head out soon.”

  Rachael nodded. “You’re right. We need to get moving. We’re ready if you are.”

  She’d wanted to ask him more about the photograph. About the marriage, and her uneasy feeling that Ian’s ex had looked a lot like her. As much as she tried to talk herself out of the notion, she hadn’t been wrong. Megan Hughes, who had his name but not his heart, did look a lot like her. Of course it was an odd coincidence. Still, it made her a bit uncomfortable.

  Unfortunately, as they headed out the door, the moment for questions about his ex had passed, at least for now.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rachael was very aware that traffic had thinned out considerably the farther they’d driven from Manhattan. While getting away from it all to a quaint cabin in the woods sounded appealing, being without a means of transportation to get back to town in the event of an emergency didn’t.

  “I can’t be without a car, Ian,” she’d reasoned when he’d said he’d drive her to the cabin then drop off her and Addie. “If something happened and Addie needed a doctor – I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t have transportation.”

  “Understood,” he’d said reasonably. “I’ll drive up to make sure the cabin is in good shape and you can follow me in your car, how does that work?”

  “Much better. Thanks.”

  Only she wasn’t feeling much better the farther they drove. The winter landscape looked as bleak as she felt. All the time she and Mac had lived here, she hadn’t realized there was such a remote wooded area so close. And as she followed Ian away from town, hyper aware of their remote surroundings, she was glad she’d insisted she had her own car.

  It was much farther than she’d anticipated. It had been a little over an hour ago that Ian had turned off the highway onto blacktop and finally on to gravel and the Turtle Creek Lake road. She caught glimpses of the lake as she drove. It was a long, narrow body of water that connected with a state park heavily used by the locals during spring through summer. Late winter, however, found the road to the lake almost empty of traffic.

  The forest had swallowed them up as they’d driven around sharp curves and up softly sloping hills. Another turn and she was following him down a narrow dirt lane, lumbering slowly over rocks and ruts, bouncing as they went.

  “Please don’t let me take out my drive shaft,” she prayed skyward as she hit a deep hole.

  “It’s a little natural paradise,” Ian had told her when he was selling her on the idea of spending some time here.

  “Better be after all this,” she muttered under her breath.

  Ahead of her, Ian suddenly stopped in the middle of the lane after what seemed like miles of driving.

  She braked and powered down her window as he got out of his car and walked back to hers.

  “You doing okay?” he asked leaning down to talk to her.

  “So far.”

  “Should have brought a four-wheeler,” he said, laughing.

  “Should have,” she agreed, feeling just a twitch uneasy with the remote and unmaintained road. She looked back over her shoulder, checking on Addie, then back to Ian.

  “I can’t believe she’s still asleep after all this jerking and bouncing around. It’s really remote. Are we going to be safe out here?”

  “Safe from what? Last I knew deer don’t carry microphones and bring their buddies and camp out on your front lawn.”

  “Speaking of the press, are you sure we lost them?”

  The minute they’d piled into both cars, the press had manned their vans with their satellites on top and with cameras out the windows, then stuck tightly to their bumpers. At least they’d tried to.

  “Evasive driving 101,” Ian said giving her a reassuring smile. “We lost them within the first fifteen minutes. They’re probably still wandering around in Manhattan wondering where we went. I don’t think they were the brightest bulbs in the socket.”

  “Hope you’re right.”

  “Trust me.” He smiled brightly. “It’s just a little farther.”

  Then he walked back to his car and headed out again.

  As Ian had promised, only a few minutes later they rounded the next curve and there it was. A rustic log lodge. Rustic being the key word.

  “Cool, huh?” Ian asked cheerfully after he’d parked in front of a set of decrepit steps that led to a porch that had also seen better days.

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” she asked, taking in a shake shingle roof covered with moss, sun-grayed half logs that made up the siding, and a front door with a four-pane window. One of the panes was broken out and patched with what looked like a thick piece of cardboard.

  Ian had already grabbed their bags out of the back of her SUV. “It’s a little rougher than I expected but looks nice enough. Let’s check out the inside.”

  Seeing that Addie was still asleep in her car seat, Rachael left her and joined Ian outside. The air was crisp and clean. The forest smelled like damp wood and rotting leaves and she caught a whiff of the water from the lake.

  Holding on to the rough-cut railing, she carefully climbed the six steps to the porch while Ian fit the key in the door lock. After a few attempts, the lock finally turned and with the assist of his shoulder, the door opened with a loud groan of protest.

  Not fully knowing why, she felt the tiniest twinge of foreboding as Ian disappeared inside.

  “I wonder how long it’s been since anyone’s stayed here.” She walked gingerly inside behind him. The cabin smelled of must and dust, evidence that the place had been closed up for a long time.

  “A while, I’d guess.” Ian walked across the great room to a bay of windows on the far wall. He tugged open the curtains, letting light in and sending dust motes dancing.

  “Ian. I don’t know,” Rachael said, not feeling at all comfortable with her first impression of the place.

  “Well,” he coaxed with a grin. “It’s a little rougher than I’d anticipated but look. Look at those beams. And that fireplace.”

  It was true, the bones of the cabin were incredible. The fireplace was all natural stone from floor to ceiling with a huge hearth and a big stockpile of wood lay beside it.

  Rachael hugged herself against the chill and took everything in. The furniture was about what Rachael would expect in a back woods cabin: worn, dated and lumpy. Yes, there was a definite charm about the open floor plan, but still, it was a far cry from the idyllic woodland retreat Ian had billed it to be.

  “Is there electricity?” she asked skeptically.

  “It’s supposed to be turned on but check it out.” He walked to the hearth, squatted in front of it and started stacking up wood for a fire.

  Wonder of wonders, when she flicked a switch, an overhead light came on. She breathed a small sigh of relief. “What about WiFi?”

  “I doubt it. Not up here.” He lit the kindling, then adjusted the damper and the flames took hold. “Besides, the idea is for you to get away from it all. That means off the grid”

  She shivered as the scent of wood smoke crept into the cabin. “There’s getting away and then there’s getting away.”

  He rose to his feet, dusting his hands on his thighs. Giving her a look that said he thought she was being over dramatic, he turned toward the door. “I’ll get your groceries.”

  She followed him, stepped outside and went to get Addie.

  “Hello, blue eyes,” she said softly when Addie blinked up at her from the back seat.

  “MummMumm.”

  “Are you up for a little adventure?” she asked, unbuckling her and lifting her into her arms.

  Addie’s big eyes looked everywhere at once, taking in the tall, winter barren trees, the patches of snow that the sun hadn’t yet melted, a flock of starlings that suddenly flew over, squawking and squabbling, their wings flapping in a whisper.

  “Brd,” Addie said, pointing skyward.

  Rachael kissed her on the cheek. “Yes, sweet thing. Those are birds.”

  Once inside the cabin, the first thing she showed her daughter after she carried her inside and set her on her feet by the sofa was the fireplace. “Hot. Very hot, Sweetie. Don’t touch. Owwie.”

  Addie, eyes huge and round and serious, looked from the fire to her mother. “Hot.”

  “That’s right sweet girl. Very hot.”

  “I’ll set these on the counter.” Ian walked in behind her with his arms full of grocery bags. “It’ll probably take the fridge a while to cool off but as chilly as it is in here, I don’t think you have to worry about the milk spoiling.”

  “I can already feel the fire taking the chill off the room,” Rachael said, feeling a little better about things with the light shining in through the windows, the fire crackling away in the hearth and the assurance of electricity.

  “There’s electric baseboard heat, too,” Ian said. “In case you get weary of feeding the fire.”

  There. Another reason to make her feel better about staying.

  When had she become such a sissy, she wondered? She’d always been an adventurer. Loved a hike through the wilderness, the earthy scents and the sound of the wind in the trees. The feeling of being alone with nature. But she had Addie to think of. She needed to be reasonably convinced that if there was an emergency she could get help.

  “How’s cell phone reception up here?”

  “Good question.” Ian tugged his phone out of his pocket and hit a button for a programmed number. “It’s ringing,” he told her as they waited.

  “Yeah, hey, Griss.” He gave her a thumbs up. “We’re here at the cabin. Yup. Electricity is on. Just wanted to thank you again.”

  He grinned. Nodded. “Yeah. I’m just checking out the phone service.”

  He laughed at something else. “Okay. Gotta go. Talk to you soon.”

  He glanced at Rachael with a smile. “Guess that answers that question.”

  She nodded, seeing no good reason, really, not to stay, yet fighting an underlying warning that she should drive back to Manhattan.

  “Look. Red. If you’re really uncomfortable here, I’ll take you home.”

  “No,” she said slowly and gave him a smile. “It’s growing on me. As you said, it’s not quite what it was billed to be but if you look past the dust and a little bit of disrepair, it really is quite charming. We’ll stay.”

  He squeezed her arm then walked over and touched a gentle fingertip to Addie’s nose. “Take good care of your mother, Princess. Let her get some rest, okay?”

  “EenEen,” Addie chanted and held her hands up to him.

  “I’m supposed to resist that?” Ian asked with a grin and picked her up. He hugged her hard then handed her to Rachael. “Okay. Last chance.”

  “I’m good,” Rachael reassured him. “We’re good. Thanks again. So, so much for arranging this for us. Be careful driving back to town.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The bookshelves on either side of the fireplace were stocked with every type of reading material imaginable. Rachael couldn’t resist sniffing the old classic hard covers with curling jackets, paperback westerns and romance and mysteries with ear-notched pages. Something about the smell of a book always spoke to her of the years and the people who had held it, read it, and gotten lost for a while in the magic of the words. Another shelf held magazines and children’s books with yellowed and torn pages that had clearly been well read and well used.

  Well loved, too, Rachael thought as she opened up Curious George and tested it out on Addie.

  “Come on sweet cheeks, let’s read a book.”

  Addie climbed up beside her on the sofa where they sat side by side in front of the warm fire.

  While her daughter was brilliant – a mother’s perspective for certain – she didn’t entirely understand the concept of the story but she loved the pictures and when Rachael finished reading it, Addie looked up at her, grinned, and said, “Moo,” her interpretation of ‘more’.

  So of course Rachael read it again then decided it was time to fix a little lunch.

  Out of habit, she checked her phone for bars and saw only one, which meant that reception wasn’t all that great up here on the lake. She imagined if she really needed to get in touch with someone, she could find a high spot or a clearing where she could get reception and decided not to worry about it. Since Ian had been able to call out she most likely could too. Besides, she had her car if she needed to get them out of here.

  She rummaged through the knotty pine cabinets in the kitchen, found a small griddle and fixed them grilled cheese and tomato soup that Addie drank out of her sippy cup. After lunch, Rachael decided it was a good time for a little nature walk.

  The sunshine glistened on the rippling lake as they stepped outside and she helped Addie walk down the cabin’s back steps. A crisp, but soft breeze slightly lifted their hair and brought all kinds of forest scents.

  “It’s so pretty, isn’t it, Addie?” she said picking her up and settling her on her hip. “Should we go look at the water?”

  “Waer,” Addie repeated bouncing on her hip.

  The path to the lake from the cabin was strewn with wet leaves, little patches of snow, tree roots and stones, but picking her way carefully, Rachael finally made it to the water’s edge.

  There were still ice floes drifting on the top of the lake but for the most part the water flowed freely, making a gurgling sound as it lapped against the shore.

  “Let’s throw some rocks. Would you like to do that?”

  Addie just looked at her, not having a clue what Rachael had in mind.

  Setting the little one down, she foraged around on the ground until she found several quarter sized pebbles.

  “Like this.” She tossed a pebble into the water where it made a brilliant splash.

  Addie laughed. “MeMe.”

  The game was a hit. Rachael spent the next half hour finding pebbles and Addie tossing them into the water with bubbly giggles faster than Rachael could keep up. After a couple of hours of fresh air, and seeing a huge yawn, Rachael decided it was nap time and they trudged back inside.

  The cabin smelled of the lingering scent of their lunch and the lovely cedar fire. The logs had burned down a bit so she added a couple of pieces of split wood then settled down on the sofa with Addie beside her. It wasn’t long before her baby was asleep. And not long after that, the warmth from the fire and Addie’s snuggly sweet heat, lulled her toward sleep too.

  How long had it been since she’d had a chance to take a lazy afternoon nap? She honestly couldn’t remember. On a restful sigh, she closed her eyes deciding that Ian was a genius to think of this. The silence and the serenity were soothing balms to her soul.

  But the thing about silence was it allowed you to think. Perhaps more clearly than if there weren’t a hundred distractions tugging you in different directions. Thoughts she’d tucked away to either ignore or avoid or to analyze later came floating to the surface as she drifted off.

  Mac, alone and facing life in prison.

  Cal Reynolds. Dead. Run off the road.

  Ian. Married and divorced but had never told them.

  Megan Simmons Hughes. Red hair – like hers. Green eyes – like hers. High cheekbones. Wide smile. Like hers.

  A single bar on her phone when Ian had been able to call out without any trouble.

  Divorce. Marriage. Adoption.

  When she woke up an hour or so later, all of those thoughts had become tangled and troubling.

  She stretched and yawned then careful not to wake Addie, who slept the sleep of the angels, eased out from behind her, tucked the blanket around her then headed for the kitchen to see if she’d remembered to include tea on her grocery list.

  She had. After putting some water on to boil, she added another log to the fire and paused at the wide windows to take in the woods and the lake for a moment as Cal Reynolds’ mother’s voice came back to haunt her.