She was so upset that night Did it have something to do with Isaac?

If I could tell you, I would, Brynnie. But I cant,was Rachels response when she asked what was wrong.

Now, Brynn would bet her life that it had something to do with her brother And that he, like Brynn, knows more than hes willing to tell.

G.o.d, what time is it?

Isaac looks up from the SundayTimes .

Kylah has emerged from the bedroom. Her face is smudged with yesterdays wedding-heavy makeup; her slept-on hair is still in a salon-sprayed bouffant. Shes wearing just panties and the gray T-shirt she pulled on after discarding her bridesmaids gown in a heap on the floor beside the bed.

Its early. Go back to bed.

She shakes her head and stretches. Is there coffee?

Yes. He sets aside the paper and walks over to the kitchenette to pour her a cup as she leans against the door frame, looking wan. How do you feel?

Not so good.

Champagne mixed with beer and tequila shots will do that. He hands her a steaming mug.

She looks down at it and makes a face. Are we out of milk again?

No, but drink it black. Itll help.

She sips it in silence as Smoochy materializes to rub against her shins, purring.

Are you hungry, baby? she asks the cat.

I already fed him.

Kylah looks up at Isaac in surprise. Then she says, Really. As if shes pondering that unexpected development.

They both know he never bothers with the cat unless she asks him to. Now, Isaac realizes, shes thinking that hes trying to appease her. For yesterday. For taking off to Boston without explanation.

And shes right.

He managed to make it to the wedding with time to spare. Despite everything thats gone on, he somehow got caught up in the spirit of the occasion. He ate, drank, talked, and danced. He met Kylahs extended family and was sure to charm all of them, especially her eighty-five-year-old grandmother, when he asked her to dance.

He and Kylah even joked and laughedand kissedin the backseat of the cab home. Of course, she was drunktoo drunk to remember that she was angry with him. And Isaac was a little tipsy himself.

The evening as a whole was a welcome reprieve, the first in a long time.

But now its back to reality. If she demands an explanation, he owes her one.

But h.e.l.l tell her only as much as he told Brynn, and nothing more.

Its cold Really cold.

Ca.s.sie snuggles deeper into her down comforter Only, she realizes, it isnt her down comforter.

As her memory of yesterday gradually returns, she remembers that shes lying beneath a shiny-stiff quilted bedspread that smells faintly of wood smoke, as though someone had huddled beneath it around a campfire on a recent, chilly night.

For the second time in as many weeks, Ca.s.sie opens her eyes on unfamiliar territory.

This time, though, she isnt sh.e.l.l-shocked.

She probably should be.

h.e.l.l, she should be scared out of her mind.

Shes never even been to Portland or Kennebunkport before, let alone the backwoods of Maine, miles from civilization. It took her well over four hours to find her way up here; shed have kept right on going if she hadnt pa.s.sed theVACANCY sign right around the time she realized she was burning daylight.

It was a nerve-racking drive. And it took her a long time last night to settle into a sleep that was, in the end, surprisingly sound.

Now, as she gazes around the rustic cabin, she feels only contentment laced with relief.

Ill be okay here for awhile. I can do this. I really can.

The cabin is small: just one room, with a square window on each of the four log walls. Theres a woodstove she could have used last night, and electricity. No plumbing, though; you have to go down the path to the community bathhouse to use the toilet, wash, or take a shower. A minifridge is tucked into one corner, but thats the extent of the kitchen appliances; any food preparation has to be done on the outdoor stone fireplace. She checked it out last night, beside the rushing stream just a stones throw from the door.

Ca.s.sie plans to do some grilling there. She doesnt mind, but if she did shed have no choice anyway: there are no restaurants in a half-hour radius of this place. Louise, the wheelchair-bound woman who runs the camp, said theres a small grocery store in the nearest town. But its a twenty-minute drive back down the winding road through the forest.

Ca.s.sie has a feeling sh.e.l.l be heading that way pretty frequently; she paid for the entire month of October when she checked in. She used cash, of course, and entered a fake name on the register.

Youre lucky I got a last-minute cancellation, Louise said. Otherwise, I wouldnt have a vacancy on a holiday weekend. This is the last hurrah, though. Foliage is past peak, and the camp will be emptied out by this time Monday. I hope you like peace and quiet.

Thats why Im here.

Then I wont bother you. You can see that its impossible for me to get up that way these days, anyway. Louise gestured at her useless legs propped on the chairs footrest. My housekeeping girl comes in every few days to clean the bathhouse and stock it with towels. Other than that, you probably wont see anyone around.

Thats fine.

Well, if you get lonely, feel free to come on down here and chat or play a hand of cards with me.

I will, if I get lonely, Ca.s.sie told her, knowing she wont.

What are you doing up here by yourself, anyway?

Writing a book. She was glad she had come up with a believable story in advance. Its due to my editor next month and I needed to get away from everything to finish it.

How exciting! Ill make sure n.o.body disturbs you up there.

Thanks.

The other cabins might still be occupied right now, but theyre all so far apart and secluded that Ca.s.sie has yet to see another living soulhuman, anyway. Theres plenty of wildlife; she was unnerved by rustling in the undergrowth as she walked down to the bathroom last night at dusk, carrying the flashlight provided in the cabin.

Thats prime time to see a moose, Louise mentioned. So keep your eyes open.

Sh.e.l.l keep her eyes open, all right.

She has to remind herself repeatedly that shes in no danger here; n.o.body is lurking, watching her, waiting to strike Today.

Today, she remembers, is her birthday.

Shes thirty years old.

And theres no one around to wish her Happy Birthday.

But thats fine with me,she thinks staunchly.

As long as theres no one around, and no other living soul can possibly know where I am, I can be sure that Ill live to see another day.

Fiona is freshly showered and changed into a navy sheath, her hair pulled back in its usual chignon, when Pat arrives with Ashley.

Hi, Mom! Ashley has on a pair of jeans and a denim jacket, her hair pulled back in a straggly ponytail.

Hi, sweetie. Fiona hugs her quickly with one arm. Hurry up and go get ready for ma.s.s.

Cant I go like this?

What doyou think?

Ashley sighs and gives her father a fierce hug.

Thanks for a great weekend, Daddy! Can we do our sunrise hike next time I come?

Well see.

Sunrise hike? Fiona asks as Ashley heads for the stairs.

Shes been wanting to see the sun come up over the mountains, he explains.

She has? I never knew that.

But then, there seems to be a lot Fiona doesnt know about her daughter these days. That wouldnt bother her if it wasnt sometimes obvious that Pat does know those things and more.

Well, thats how girls are, she tells herself. They adore their daddies and resent their mothers. Especially at this age.

Then again, Ashley isnt an adolescent yet.

But shes always been a Daddys Girl.

And anyway, Fiona isnt a sunrise-hike kind of mom. She has other things to offer her daughter. Things Pat cant possibly give her. A sense of responsibility, financial stability, career ambition, personal style, a beautiful home, a solid work ethic Bye, Daddy! Ashley calls from the top of the stairs.

Bye, sweetie.

Left alone with Pat, Fiona finds him watching her, looking concerned.

So, how was your weekend? she asks, to fill the awkward silence.

We went to see that new Disney movie with the Reynoldses.

The Reynoldses.

Fiona is blank.

Of course, Pat notices. He seems to gloat a little as he clarifies, Her friend Meg and her mom.

I know.

Then we played minigolf, and went out to dinner at Applebees.

Thats nice. Fiona finds herself surprisingly envious. Not that she particularly wants to hang out with Megs mothershe doesnt have time for that. And she likes minigolf about as much as she likes Applebees. Still, her ex-husband shouldnt be socializing more with Ashleys friends and their parents than she does.

She makes a mental note to invite Cynthia and Meg Reynolds to lunch sometime.

So, Fee Howare you? Pat asks, not in a casual way.

Im okay. Uncomfortable under his gaze, she decides its easier when hes not being civil to her.

The funeral had to be hard.

It wasnt fun. And it wasnt a funeral, it was a memorial service. Why does she find it necessary to keep clarifying that detail?

She knows why. Because shes feeling ornery.

And thats partly because she feels that way whenever shes around Pat, but, today, its mostly because James didnt mention seeing her again when they said good-bye earlier. Nor did he protest when she told him she had to leave.

I have to get back home anyway, he told her.

Arent you spending the weekend here? she asked, disappointed that there wouldnt be another opportunity to see him in the next day or two.

No, Ive got some things to do in the office back in Boston.

It wasnt that he was rude. More like disinterested, and preoccupied with whatever it is hes got to do today.

She, of all people, should be familiar with that mode. But for the first time in a long time, her current obsession isnt her work.

Well, Ashley and I had a good weekend. I think she really liked the room I set up for her.

Good. Thats great. Fiona wonders if she should call James after church, just to thank him for the nice evening.

Oh, I heard her sniffling a little this morning. Im thinking it might be because of the sawdustnot that I didnt clean it up really well, but that stuff sticks in every crack for awhile. Anyway, it could be that shes coming down with a cold.

Mmm-hmm. No, she shouldnt call James. She should let him call her.

And he will, she a.s.sures herself.