“She had the most beautiful little foal just two days ago. I’ve been waiting till you see her so we can name her together.”

  The girls ran to the stall where Ciero greeted them cautiously, maintaining a position between her foal and the two girls.

  “She’s beautiful,” sighed Laura, tears pooling inexplicably in her eyes. “I’d forgotten how I love the sight of a new foal.”

  Jenna’s eyebrows drew together. “Why are you crying?”

  Laura brushed away the tears. “I’m not crying.” She attempted to smile. “Not really.”

  They wandered out into the sunlight.

  “It’s just that I miss all this.” She made a broad gesture, encompassing the ranch and the green hills that rose in the distance. “I miss home.” She glanced sideways at her friend. “Running back and forth to Vancouver was fun at first, but it’s getting to be a real drag. I’m not sure how much longer I want to do it. I guess seeing the new foal reminded me that there’s a lot more to life than posing in front of a camera.”

  They leaned their arms against a rail, watching the horses in the paddock. “My contract comes up for renewal in a couple of months and my mom has already negotiated terms for another year. She didn’t even ask me. I’m supposed to sign by the end of the week.”

  “Huh.” Jenna didn’t know what else to say.

  “My Dad says I can quit any time I want.” She looked at her friend. “Remember a couple of years ago when we tried to volunteer at the hospital?”

  Jenna grinned. “Yeah, they said we were too young.”

  “Well, that’s what I’d really like to do. I want to be able to play on the basketball team, and volunteer at the hospital. Who knows, I might even get a boyfriend.”

  “As long as it’s not Drew.”

  “As if.” Laura nudged her friend. “So you guys are serious?”

  A dreamy expression came over Jenna’s face. “Oh yeah. Don’t laugh, but I’ve already decided. I want to marry him.”

  For the briefest moment Laura was jealous. “You know something? I think you will.” She gave her friend a hug. “I think I’ll go home and tell Mom what I’ve decided.”

  * * *

  Laura experienced the full force of her mother’s wrath. In the space of minutes, she went from being the golden girl to ‘an unappreciative slut’. When her father came home from work her mother turned on him, accusing him of sabotaging all of her hard work.

  The tirade went on for days until Laura could stand it no longer. She reluctantly confided in her father, who immediately whisked her off to Vancouver for a quiet stay with her grandmother. By the time she returned home, her mother had moved out. She never returned, and two years later, Carolyn and Hugh MacLeod were divorced.

  Laura didn’t spend a penny of the money she earned. Her father gave her an allowance all through high school. Once a year they’d have what he called a ‘board meeting’ where he’d take her out to dinner and they’d discuss the investments he’d made on her behalf. The totals grew every year, thanks to her father’s prudence, but the amounts didn’t seem real. She was a wealthy young woman.

  Chapter Four

  By the time they pulled up in front of the treatment facility, Laura was experiencing nausea along with the chills that had started earlier.

  “I’m not sure I can do this.” She remained in the passenger seat, scarcely noticing the lush lawns leading down to the water. The sun had almost disappeared behind the trees on the far side of the lake, its slanting rays glowing against the natural wood finish of the main lodge.

  “You’ll be fine.” Myrna got out. “You’ve done the hard part.”

  “I have?” Every muscle in Laura’s body ached.

  The facilitator paused. “Yes. You accepted help.” She turned toward the staff member who had come out to greet them.

  * * *

  Laura didn’t recognize herself when she was taken to her shared accommodations a week later. Detox had been long and gruelling...thankfully under medical supervision. She peered into the mirror. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and although her hair was clean, it hung in dull, lifeless strands. She leaned closer and touched her face. Yes, it was really her.

  “Prescription drugs?” The voice startled her. She turned to see what looked like a child sitting cross-legged on the second bed, and then realized it was an extremely thin woman in her early twenties. She was remarkably pale, a fact that was enhanced by a cap of short black hair.

  “I’m sorry? What did you say?”

  “It’s a game we play here. We try to guess what brought you here.”

  Laura blinked several times. “I think I saw that in a movie.”

  “You did?” Her roommate seemed pleased. “So am I right?”

  Laura nodded. “You’re right.” She spotted her favourite picture of Jenna, Drew and the kids on the nightstand beside the empty bed. “I see my things arrived.” She opened the top drawer and almost cried out with pleasure when she saw the selection of shampoos, conditioners and bath products. The next drawer held new underwear and she closed her eyes, silently thanking her father’s new lady friend.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but do you mind if I have a shower?” She opened the small closet on her side of the room and pulled out a new pair of fleece jogging pants and a T-shirt.

  “Go for it.” The woman gestured toward the bathroom. “My name’s Faith, by the way.”

  “And I’m Laura.”

  She braced herself against the wall of the shower and let the water beat down, wondering when she’d start to feel better. She’d been afraid before, but she was terrified now. How was she going to face life without the euphoria she experienced every time she took an oxycodone? It was a question she’d asked herself over and over again the past couple of days as she was recovering from the worst of the withdrawal symptoms. She could do without the booze, but there was no substitute for that feeling of well-being when she popped a Perc.

  The hot water eventually ran out and she turned off the shower, dressed, and left the bathroom, ready to face her roommate. The young woman wasn’t there, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The rest of today was free to explore the lodge and the grounds. Tomorrow she’d start on the second phase of her treatment, but she already hated it. Behaviour modification. One-on-one sessions where they’d poke and prod and try to discover the ‘underlying issues’ that had brought her to this state. At least that’s what the brochure said. She grabbed a light jacket and left the room.

  Lunch was over but she didn’t mind. She’d actually eaten breakfast this morning, something she hadn’t done for several months. She spied the coffee station and headed for it like a drowning man swimming for a raft.

  A tall man approached, white teeth flashing in a dark face. “Coffee and hot water,” he said, slapping two stainless containers. “Mugs, teapots, teabags, cream, sugar and over there you’ll find paper cups if you want to take it outside.” He was dressed casually; it was hard to tell if he was patient or staff. She decided he was probably staff. “Just remember to toss the cup in one of the garbage bins if you go that route.” He smiled again and walked off.

  Laura poured herself a coffee, dosed it with cream and sugar and picked up an oatmeal cookie on the way out. A murmur of voices came from a room down the hall; she assumed it was a meeting room.

  A broad set of steps led down to the driveway. She paused half way, taking in the towering trees that dotted the lawn. She’d once talked to a lab tech at the hospital who had turned his back on all religion. He’d said that he found more inspiration when he looked up into the trees at Cathedral Grove on Vancouver Island that in any church. In this peaceful setting, she could see what he meant.

  She wandered across the lawn, nibbling on the cookie as she went. Several benches were placed near the water, but to sit there might be seen as an invitation and she wanted to be alone. She checked the angle of the sun. If she sat on the grass over there, near the shadow of a cedar, she’d be in the shade in a few minutes. Perfect. She walked over and sat down.

  It was peaceful here. She sipped her coffee, watching the swallows put on an aerobatic show as they swooped over the surface of the water. Surely they must be some of the best flyers in the world.

  “Jeez, I wish I could fly like that.” Startled, Laura looked up to see a woman standing slightly behind her. “I’d fly outta here so fast...” She seemed to lose her train of thought and stood there, watching the swallows. Laura prayed that she’d move on, but evidently no one heard her silent plea, because the woman sank down onto the grass beside her.

  “I’m Delores,” she announced a few moments later.

  Laura nodded. “Laura.”

  “Dontcha hate this place?” Delores looked like she’d like to punch somebody.

  “I don’t know. I’ve been here a week but I just got out of detox.” Laura studied the other woman without being too obvious.

  The woman was somewhere in her early fifties. She might have been attractive once, but now she just looked tired...used up. An inch or so of dark roots showed near her scalp, in sharp contrast with the rest of her hair. Brilliant red lipstick had crept up into the tiny crevices that rimmed her top lip. I can show her how to fix that, Laura thought.

  Delores shifted slightly and examined Laura as though she were a new specimen she hadn’t seen before. “Prescription drugs,” she said emphatically.

  Laura was getting annoyed. “Does everyone play that game around here?”

  “Sure, what else is there to do?” The woman uncapped a bottle of water and took a long drink. “So am I right?”

  Laura sighed. What had happened to her peaceful interlude? “Yes, you’re right.”

  “Thought so. Me, I’m a lush.” The woman had lovely eyes...pale blue, rimmed with dark cobalt. “This is my third visit here.” She was quiet for a moment and when she spoke again, the belligerence was gone. “Do you believe in third time lucky?”

  Laura was tempted to lie, but thought better of it. “Not really, no.”

  “Me neither.” She picked at the grass, rubbed it between her fingers. “And I don’t really hate it here. They’re wonderful people.” A small smile played at the corners of her mouth. “I’m going to make it this time. I really am.”

  Laura nodded. In spite of the false bluster...or maybe because of it...there was something poignant about this woman. “I hope you do.”

  Delores looked at her fingers, stained with grass. “I lost my daughter five years ago. Ashley was twenty four, and engaged to a wonderful young man. She wanted to take one last trip before she got married. She and her girlfriend decided to go to the Philippines.” Tears started to roll down her cheeks. “They were on one of those overloaded ferries you’re always hearing about. It capsized, and they were drowned.” She brushed away the tears and Laura was almost blinded by the size of the diamonds on her hand. “We didn’t even have a body.” She nodded, as though talking to herself. “That was really hard.”

  Laura remained silent. There was nothing she could say that would ease the other woman’s pain. She knew that from personal experience.

  “Frank was so patient with me. At least at first.” She took another drink of water. “Men are better at handling grief, I think. Or maybe they just hide it better. Besides, he has a business to run. He has three real estate offices on the North Shore...that’s where we met. I was a receptionist at his main location, and it was love at first sight.” She smiled, caught up in memories of a happier time.

  “Anyway...surprise, surprise...I started to drink to drown the pain and everything went downhill after that.” Her gaze drifted out over the water, then came back to Laura. “I used to be attractive, you know. Not like you, of course, but I was okay in my day.”

  “I believe you. You have the most amazing eyes.” Laura’s sincerity was obvious.

  “That’s what Frank used to say.” She started to pick at the label on the water bottle. “I think he’s having an affair with one of the agents right now. Every time I talk to him he tells me how much he misses me, but there’s this one young agent...” Her voice trailed off.

  “Have you thought about going back to work?”

  Delores’ head came up. “I have, actually. But look at me. I’m a joke.”

  “No you’re not. I’ll bet you know more about the real estate business than most of the people working there.” Laura was openly inspecting the woman beside her. “Your figure’s still good. Your hair could use some work, and your makeup needs some updating, but you’re a valuable commodity, never forget that.” She leaned closer. “Frank could never find anyone who cares about his business more than you.”

  The other woman thought for a moment. “What made you so smart?” she asked eventually.

  “My Dad owns a business. But trust me, I’m not smart. Especially when it comes to men.”

  Delores turned a bit more until she was facing Laura, who remained looking out at the water.

  “Well? Are you going to tell me?”

  Laura decided on an edited version of her story. It felt surprisingly good to talk.

  “I’m an RN at St. Mark’s in Vancouver.”

  “Really?” Delores’ eyes widened. “Sorry, go on.”

  “I went through a really bad time a few months ago.” She looked into her cup, surprised to see that it was empty. “I just couldn’t seem to pull myself together.” She hesitated. “I was going out with a Doctor at the time. He suggested that I take some oxycodone based pills. He assured me that with just a little help I’d be able to get back on track, as it were. He even told me to mix up the drugs to avoid symptoms of withdrawal.” She gave her head a quick, angry shake. “It worked. Oh, boy, did it work.”

  Laura fiddled with the rim of the paper cup. “Don’t get me wrong. I knew I shouldn’t be taking them, but there was such a feeling of euphoria I felt like I could run the world.”

  “How did you manage to get all those drugs?” Delores held up a hand. “Silly me. You worked in a hospital.”

  “You can get them everywhere, and I had money. Getting the drugs was the least of my problems. I developed a tolerance for the damned things and soon I was taking them every six hours, sometimes less. I couldn’t imagine life without them, but things seemed to be going well.” She shot a quick glance at Delores. “Really well. Stew and I were talking about moving in together. And then I walked in on him with one of the young nursing students. He had his pants around his ankles. I found out later that she was one of many. Well, you can imagine the rest. It sounds like something out of a television show, but I was devastated at the time.”

  Laura started to rip her cup into tiny pieces. “After that little episode, I started going out at night...drinking.” She laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. “I went right off the rails. There were nights I couldn’t remember going home, and I honestly don’t know how I made it into work some mornings. My supervisor told me just last week that she was about to talk to me, but then I fell and broke my arm at work. I had to take time off, of course, and I continued to drink.”

  They were in the shade now, and Laura zipped up her jacket. “Anyway, my family and my supervisor intervened and here I am.”

  “Do you want to be here?”

  “Honestly?” Laura looked up. “I don’t know.” She thought for a moment. “I have to stay off the drugs, I know that. But I’m afraid. I mean, how am I going to face the world without them?”

  Delores leaned forward and laid a hand on her arm. “I know how you feel. But I think you might surprise yourself. I’m a good judge of character and something tells me you’re stronger than you think.”

  “Stronger?” Laura looked into the beautiful blue eyes. Not for the first time she wondered if there was some inherent weakness in people like herself and Delores that drove them to substance abuse. “I hope you’re right, Delores. I really do.”

  Chapter Five

  The heat of the Okanagan Valley buffeted Bradley as he approached his destination. Dry and golden, the hills offered a completely different vista from what he’d grown up with on Vancouver Island. Ponderosa Pines were the predominant tree, blanketing the hills and scenting the air. A logging truck passed him going the other way and he automatically checked out the load. Good sized logs for this area, they would be considered small on the Island. When he was young it hadn’t been unusual to see trucks hauling one log. One log filling the truck bed with a smaller one on either side to hold it steady. These days it was rare to see a one-log load on the Island, just as the size of the Coho being taken seemed to be getting smaller. He turned right at the intersection between Penticton and Okanagan Falls and turned south.

  He’d met Matt Peterson during his Phase IV Training at Cold Lake, Alberta. A fellow F-18 pilot, they’d hit if off right away and were deployed to Afghanistan at the same time. But there was one striking difference between them. Matt had always known what he’d do after his stint in the Canadian Forces. He’d married his childhood sweetheart two years previously and when he was discharged he planned to go home, have a couple of kids and run the family vineyard just south of Oliver in the Okanagan Valley. Matt was the only person who understood what Bradley had been through. He was the brother Bradley had never had.

  Fruit stands dotted the sides of the highway, their signs announcing whatever fruit was in season. Bradley had been in the Okanagan roughly five years ago, before he knew Matt, but it seemed to him that there’d been more fruit trees at that time. Now grape vines crowded every available inch of space. Well, maybe not every inch, but they had definitely become the crop of choice.

  “We’re on the east side of the valley,” Matt had texted. “Use any of the major cross roads and you’ll see the signs to Raptor Ridge.”

  Odd name for a winery, Bradley had thought to himself, but whatever works.

  Bradley had studied the brochures that Matt had carried with him and even from the pictures he could see that the main building was a magnificent structure. It was only about fifteen years old, but it looked ancient; the rough-hewn granite walls would have been at home in Europe. Matt’s father had started with a tasting room some twenty years ago, and had been wise enough to foresee the explosive interest in wine. He’d soon built the present structure, going deeply into debt to do so, but the gamble had paid off. They now had a first class restaurant with a broad terrace that overlooked the vineyards. On hot summer days, the tables were shaded by vines that grew on the overhead pergola. Separate buildings housed the wine tasting/gift shop, the maintenance shed, and the all-important fermentation room, fiercely overseen by Massimo Tartaglia, the wine maker.