THESE.

SORROWS.

WE SEE.

TAMSEN SCHULTZ.

To Nav, because youre making the most of this brave, new world.

And the boys because youre the best ten- and twelve-year-old marketing team a mom could hope for.

CHAPTER 1.

MATTY BROOKS LET OUT a long-suffering sigh. It was loud enough for her friend on the other end of the cell phone to hear over the wind and noise created by Mattys new, sleek convertible. She was driving north on the Taconic State Parkway toward a small town called Windsor, a few hours upstate from New York City. She should have stayed in the city. Having been born and raised in urban areas-first New York, then DC-she was a city girl, by birth and by preference. But she hadnt stayed and she knew why-even if she didnt want to share that reason with her best friend. And so, opting to be obtuse, Matty answered the question Charlotte posed, if not the one shed really been asking.

"I desperately need an expert in modern Chinese political history, Charlotte. Thats the only reason I agreed to come up here, to the middle of nowhere, and dog-sit Brads brood for a few weeks."

"Bull," came her friends answer. "Theres something bothering you. Are you having problems writing? Is your mom okay? Did Brad say something to get you to drive all the way up there?"

Her writing wasnt going as well as it usually was at this stage; she had a draft of her fifth book due to the editor in four weeks and she was behind schedule. Her mom had made no attempt to hide what she thought of Matty house-sitting for Brad. But it was the last question Charlotte asked that made Matty most uncomfortable.

Brad, her half brother, hadnt really said anything persuasive to get her to come up. Under normal circumstances, if they had been a normal family, that might not be so unusual. But she and Brad had spoken exactly three times in her life-once when she was seventeen, once at their grandmothers funeral, and once, this last time, when hed called to ask her if she would come dog-sit for him while he was away for three weeks. He had called her several times in the past few years, but she hadnt answered. Why she had picked up the phone yesterday she didnt know, and why she had even entertained the idea of house- and dog-sitting for him, let alone agreed to it, she could no more explain than quantum physics.

But he had promised her an expert on modern Chinese political history-something she needed in order to finish the research for her next book. Shed tossed the request out more like a challenge than anything else when hed asked what he could do to get her to agree to come up. Of course, Brad, with his family connections, knew someone. A classmate of his from Princeton, now the head of the Chinese department at one of the universities in Boston, was a friend and had a house in the Hudson Valley too. Hed be happy to make the introduction.

Matty didnt really need Brad to find an expert for her. She had enough of her own connections-especially at this point in her career-to find an expert in DC herself. But he had given her a reason, if a flimsy one, to say yes. And so she had. Though she still wasnt sure why.

"Everything is fine, Charlotte. I promise. You can imagine my mom isnt too happy, but shell get over it. And its not like Brad is going to be there or Ill be spending any time with him. Im just staying at his house and watching the dogs. Besides, its kind of pretty up here, in a bucolic kind of way," she added, taking in the view of a lush, green valley as she rounded a bend in the road. "It will be good for me to be up here, away from everything, while I finish this draft."

Charlotte made a noise and Matty knew that, although her friend wasnt buying it, she had decided not to press the issue right now. "Just be sure to wear bug spray," Charlotte said-her way of conceding, if only for the moment. "They have a lot of ticks up there. The kind that carry Lyme disease," she added. "And its supposed to be hotter up there this week than it is down here, so be careful."

Matty smiled. No doubt Charlotte had researched everything there was to know about Windsor the moment Matty had told her she was going.

"Yes, Mom."

"And call me-or your mom-every day. I dont like the idea of you staying in a country house in the middle of nowhere all by yourself."

"But you dont mind that I stay in a city mansion in the middle of one of the most dangerous cities in the US all by myself?" Matty teased.

"Youre city wise, Ms. Brooks, not country wise. Besides, they had some trouble up there a few months ago, caught some serial killer. He ended up shooting himself before they could arrest him."

Matty frowned; Brad hadnt mentioned that. Not that it changed things all that much. "People get killed in DC every day. Im sure the serial killer was just one of those fluke things. Did he kill a lot of people?" she couldnt help but ask.

"They think about twenty-one women, but only two bodies were found in Windsor. The rest were all over the country."

"And the small-town police force caught him," Matty pointed out; it was an assumption, but a fair one, she thought. "Ill be fine."

"Just call me," Charlotte issued the order before hanging up. Matty smiled, thinking of her over-protective friend. Charlottes reasoning wasnt always logical, but the two of them had known each other practically since birth and had been looking out for each other almost as long.

Matty pulled off the Taconic, turned left, then made an immediate right, following the directions Brad had e-mailed her. Based on the road sign she saw, she was heading away from the town itself, but her half brother had assured her that, while it might feel like the roads could wind to nowhere, it was, in fact, the right way.

But before driving too far, she was forced to stop behind a truck and trailer waiting to make a left turn into a gas station. Noting that the station had a mini-mart-always a good thing to know-she let her eyes wander to two men who were talking out front. One wore a beige uniform of some sort and was leaning against a huge SUV that had lights on top and the head of a goofy-looking dog hanging out the window. The other man, with his hip hitched against a massive blue diesel pickup, was clad in boots, jeans, and, despite the August heat, a long-sleeved shirt that was rolled midway up his forearms. Matty let out a little laugh; she definitely wasnt in Kansas anymore-or the city, to be more precise. Maybe it was the size of the two trucks flanking the men or the fact that the man not in uniform wore clothes that were utilitarian rather than stylish, but there was no doubt in her mind that the next few weeks would be very different from her urban life. She just hoped it was in a good way.

Following Brads directions over a railroad bridge and along a road that, on a good day, could be called one and a half lanes, she passed farmhouse after farmhouse. It all looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting to her-too wholesome, too quaint to be real. In fact, it was so charming she actually reminded herself of the recent serial-killer incident Charlotte had mentioned just to make the place seem a little less perfect. A little more accessible.

Quelling her rising doubts about the wisdom of her decision to come here, she passed through what Brad called Old Windsor, a 'town that consisted of Andersons Bar and Restaurant, a post office, and a general store. Exactly another seven-tenths of a mile down the lane, she turned left onto a dirt road. There she paused for a moment and consulted the directions for the umpteenth time. According to her half brothers e-mail, the road was shared with his neighbor and Brads house was located at the end. An end she couldnt see from where she sat, though if she craned her neck, she could make out a weathervane and what looked like the top of a barn.

Two mailboxes were perched at the side of the road-a simple black box and, next to it, a rather more colorful one. Painted hot pink with a white roof, the second box resembled an old schoolhouse, complete with a tiny chimney. Matty assumed the pink one was the neighbors. Brad hadnt said anything about his neighbor, but if the mailbox was anything she could go by, she guessed its owner was decidedly un-Brad-like and therefore someone she needed to meet.

The undeniable beauty of the place, the clean and quiet air, and the interesting mailbox all served to quash the remaining doubts she harbored about making the trip. In fact, as she made her way slowly up the road, she was actually beginning to think this little journey had been a good decision, albeit an out-of-character one for her. And then, as she came around a slight bend and Brads property came into view, her heart actually fluttered a little bit. She might not care much about her half brother, or even know him well enough to know if she cared, but his home made her feel like she was stepping back into the warm embrace of history.

Continuing up the drive, she came alongside an enormous red barn on her right. She had no problem envisioning generations of farmers moving in and out of the structure, tending to livestock, storing hay, and doing all sorts of other things farmers did. She braked for a moment beside the building and took it in. Shed never seen a barn of this size before. Scratch that, shed seen polo barns and more modern barns of this size, but shed never seen a historical barn of such stature. And it was old-she could tell from the wood siding, which was well tended but weathered, and the slight tilt to the entire building.

Unbidden, a smile touched her lips, and what little tension was left in her since shed agreed to come to Windsor slipped away. She eased her foot off the brake and continued up the road. Also on the right, the house was positioned so that the drive came up parallel to the entrance rather than straight on. The two-story wooden farmhouse was built on a hill with what looked like a stone foundation. It appeared that the view from the other side was of a vibrant, sweeping, green pasture that seemed, from her perspective, to go on for miles.

The house itself was built in the Greek Revival style. Clean lines dominated the exterior and the big, paned windows were lined with shutters. There was enough architectural detail to provide some depth and the soft cream color, highlighted with earthy tones, made it inviting as well as stunning. There was also a freestanding garage facing the gravel parking area in front of the main house. Though built in the same style as the house, judging by the materials, it was probably the newest building on Brads property.

But the beauty of the architecture aside, it was the gardens that made the place seem magical. Lush, green fields surrounded the property, but well-tended planting beds and paths had been created, and they meandered around the land closest to the house. In those beds and along those paths were flowers of every color, style, and height that she could imagine. Inhaling a deep breath scented with fresh-cut grass, humid air, and roses, Matty acknowledged that never in her life had she seen such spectacular gardens outside of an arboretum. Not even in her own yard.

From Brads e-mail, she knew that the main entrance to the house was actually a small door that led into the kitchen-toward the left side of the house-even though a more traditional grand entry graced the center of the building. And as she pulled to a stop by this side entry, she could hear the cacophony of Brads dogs inside. Shed been told there were five and, by the sound of it, they were a vocal five.

She stepped onto the small flagstone patio in front of the door and found the key under a pot of dahlias where Brad had said hed leave it. She would have taken a moment to appreciate the sweet little cafe table and chairs set up on the patio, a perfect place for an early morning cup of coffee, if it hadnt been for the melee she heard inside. With a small laugh at the big noise, she opened the screen and unlocked the door. When it swung open, she was immediately accosted by noses, tails, and furry bodies.

Laughing out loud at the chaos, she managed to push her way inside to the kitchen. Not pausing to look at her surroundings just yet, she dumped her purse on a table and went down on her knees to greet the dogs. Not surprisingly, the yellow Lab, Bob, was right in her face. Rufus, the Great Dane, was nosing her head while Lucy, a wiry little mutt, was springing up and down off of all four of her short, dainty legs. Roger, the Newfoundland mix, was gently sniffing Matty in curiosity, and Isis, the gorgeous Ridgeback, was standing back, assessing the situation. It was a motley crew, but she knew from Brad that all of them were rescue dogs and had come to him in various ways over the past two years.

She stayed low to the ground, petting all of them and letting them check her out until, with the exception of Lucy who seemed in a perpetual state of wiggliness, they all quieted down. Rising, Matty glanced at the water bowls lined up against one of the walls and was pleased to see the dogs hadnt run out of water while waiting for her. She was about to take a closer look at the house when the dogs suddenly burst into renewed chaos and all ran to the door. The noise caught her off guard and her heart rate leapt in response. She didnt know what they were barking at but figured, with five dogs, sudden chaos was probably something she was going to have to get used to. At least shed get some cardio workouts in without actually having to exercise.

When she opened the screen door to let the animals out, all but Isis went tearing down the driveway. In the quiet of their absence, she could hear what had set them off-the telltale sound of a diesel pickup truck. And judging by the increasing volume, it was headed up the drive in her direction.

Frowning to herself, Matty walked out onto the patio as the truck shed seen at the gas station on her drive in pulled into a small parking area by the barn. The dogs surrounded the drivers door and, when the lanky man in the long-sleeved shirt and jeans stepped out, the barking stopped-even if the body wags continued. She had no idea who he was, but at least it looked like the dogs knew him and, judging by the way the man rubbed heads, scratched ears, and patted shoulders, he knew the dogs.

When she stepped from the shadows and into view, the mans head came up and in that instant she experienced something she never had before. The moment slowed and everything around her faded into a dull presence. She recognized the sound of birds and sensed a breeze against her bare throat, but she didnt really hear or feel them. Everything inside her, for one brief moment, stilled and focused only on this man in front of her-on his eyes that were locked on hers.

And then Isis pressed her cold nose to Mattys bare thigh and the world fell back into place.

With a little shake of her head, she moved off the patio; the man straightened away from the dogs as she walked toward him. Shed already noticed his form, but hadnt realized how tall he was-two or three inches over six feet, if she had to guess. Shed place him in his early- to mid-thirties and, given his wiry build, which she thought suited a man, shed bet he had been a very skinny kid. But it was his eyes that caught and held her attention, eyes that didnt stray from hers as she made her way toward his truck. They werent an unusual shade or anything like that, but they were a rich, dark-very dark-brown that matched his hair almost exactly. Hair that was a little longer than was fashionable, at least in the city, and that curled over the tops of his ears.

"Im Dr. Dashiell Kent, Brads vet. Im here about the cows," he said, holding out his hand. Matty took it in hers and immediately noticed not just the rough texture but the dry heat of his palm.

"Hi, Im-wait, did you just say cows?" she repeated, dropping his hand and looking around. She hadnt seen any on her drive up and Brad had most definitely not mentioned any cows.

He inclined his head. "Yes, six of them. Brad probably put them in the barn."

Her stomach dropped. Dogs she could handle, but cows?

"Is Brad here?" Dr. Kent asked, moving to the back of his pickup. He let the tailgate down and began pulling out supplies of some sort.

Matty shook her head. "No. Im Matty Brooks. Im Brads half sister. The more honest and forthcoming half, obviously. He asked me to dog-sit for him but sure as hell didnt say anything about cows." It dawned on her that she didnt know this man from Adam and perhaps she should watch her language. He didnt look like a prude, in fact, if the vibes she was picking up from him were anything to go on, he was probably about as nonprudish as she was, but still.

He smiled as he reached for a wicked-looking needle. "Well the good news is, especially this time of year, the cows are easy to take care of. I just need to give them a vaccination, and then Ill turn them out into the pasture. They dont need to be fed since the grass is good, but you may want to keep an eye on their water. It will refill automatically, but in this heat its always good to check it occasionally to make sure the refill mechanism hasnt broken."

His words were meant to be comforting but somehow they werent-what if something happened to one of the cows? She would never be able to tell if one was sick or hurt unless it was actually hobbling on three legs-or dead.

"Wait," she said as his words sunk in. "You said the good news is the cows are easy to take care of. Does that mean theres bad news, Dr. Kent?"

"Call me Dash," he answered. "I dont know if Id call it bad news, but Id guess if he didnt tell you about the cows, he probably also didnt tell you about the cats, rabbits, and chickens," he continued.

Matty stared at the man for a long moment, waiting for him to laugh and say something like "gotcha!" But he didnt.

"That son of a bitch," she muttered then cast a look at Dash to make sure she hadnt offended him.

He laughed even as he continued prepping his shots. "Ive heard worse, believe me. Brad really didnt tell you about the other animals? Thats not like him," he continued, not waiting for her reply, "hes pretty meticulous about their care."

Matty shook her head. Mostly in dismay.

"And he didnt leave you any directions or instructions or anything?"

She started to shake her head again then stopped. "Actually, I just arrived a few minutes before you did. He might have left something for me, but I havent had a chance to take a look."

Dash held up a second mean-looking needle and tapped the container of liquid with a free finger. "Why dont you go inside and see if he left anything for you. Ill take care of the cows, let them out, then stop by. If he didnt leave anything for you, we can walk through what youll need to do. If he did leave something, have a look and if you have any questions we can go over them."

It seemed wrong to leave him to handle six cows on his own, but as he filled a bucket with water from some tank on his truck and then arranged his supplies in a tidy box, he looked like a man who knew what he was doing.

"Are you sure?" she asked, still feeling a little guilty about leaving him to his own devices.

He smiled and she noticed he had a dimple in his left cheek. "Yeah, I got it. Brads cows are pretty docile and the shots are quick. You go on and Ill be up in about ten minutes."

She gave him one last look before nodding and turning back toward the house. Isis and Bob trotted after her while Lucy stayed behind. Roger and Rufus, having assessed the situation and moved on several minutes earlier, were already crashed out on the patio; neither even bothered to raise their heads when she walked by.

Fifteen minutes later, Matty looked up from where she sat at the kitchen island to see Dash at the screen door.

"Come in," she waved him in.

"My boots are filthy."

"Im not feeling so inclined to care much about Brads floors these days."

Dash let out a little chuckle as he stepped into the room. "Those the directions?" he asked, nodding toward the paper in her hands.

"All four pages of them," she answered.

"That sounds more like Brad. Do you have any questions? Anything I can help with?"

She took one last look at the typed, single-spaced text. "I tried to call him but Im sure it wont surprise you to hear he didnt answer," she said, not without a bit of wry sarcasm. Then she shook her head and set the pages down. "And why on earth would anyone want rabbits? I mean theyre cute and all, but you cant cuddle them and he only has two, so its not like hes collecting angora or anything."

"Brads an interesting guy," Dash said, crossing the room and coming to a stop a few feet from her.

Matty arched a brow. "Thats an interesting comment."

"Its not a commentary, just an observation. Where is he, by the way?" Dash asked, his eyes not leaving hers.

"I dont actually know," she frowned. And thinking back to the conversation shed had with him, Brad hadnt really left her an opening to ask. "He didnt say and didnt really give me the opportunity to bring it up. He just asked me to come up for a few weeks and watch the dogs."

"From where?" he asked, leaning his hip against the island and crossing his arms.

"DC," she answered. "Im a city girl. Dogs I can do, and the cats wont be too bad, but cows, chickens, and rabbits will be a new one for me."

"Well, here," he pulled a card out of his shirt pocket. Reaching for a pen on the counter, he scribbled on the back. "If you have any questions, just call me. Brad takes good care of his animals. My guess is that the biggest problem youll have with them is what to do with all the eggs his chickens are producing this time of year."

"I should be so lucky," Matty said, taking the card and noting the cell number hed added.

"Youll be fine. Once the surprise of it all has worn off, youll be able to kick back, relax, and enjoy the country, cows and all."

"I think Im going to start now. Brad says Im welcome to any of his liquor," she said, holding up the last sheet of paper. It was a weird thing for him to write, he didnt even know if she drank. "A gin and tonic and a cool bath sounds just about perfect after my long drive. Care to join me?" She meant in the drink, but the side of his mouth ticked up and she realized how ambiguous her question sounded.

"Id love to, but I have a few other calls I have to make. Ill take a rain check, though."

And she knew he wasnt just referring to the drink. It hadnt been her intention to suggest they share a bath, but now that it was out there, albeit only playfully so, she couldnt bring herself to think it would be a bad idea. But rather than comment, she simply inclined her head and rose from her seat to walk him out. He offered again to be a resource for her should she need it and, a few minutes later, was climbing into his truck and heading back down the road. Matty, deciding to skip the drink, stood on the patio for a few minutes listening to the sounds of the country around her. There was a sense of peace and calm about the place.

She just hoped she didnt ruin it by accidentally killing one of Brads animals.

Dash eased his truck to a stop at the end of the dirt road that Brads house shared. Pulling out his phone, he dialed a familiar number.

"Hey," his sister Jane answered.

"I just met her," he said without preamble.

"Met who? Oh!" she said, the realization dawning. "Really? You met her?" she repeated, beginning to laugh.

"Yes and its not funny."

"Yeah it is. After all those years of you saying it was never going to hit you, its kind of funny. Im looking forward to the next month or so, its going to be so interesting," she added, not bothering to hide her enthusiasm.

"Nice, thanks for the support. Im a little freaked out."

"Yeah, its like that. So, what are you going to do about it?" she asked.

"Avoid her," he answered even as he thought of the cell number-his personal cell number-hed added to his card.