Marlee battled tears as she saw the runway, still with that tacky wind sock at the end. Home looked refreshingly the same. As did the metal hangar with its add-on maintenance bay and cubbyhole office—so small an area their mom used to complain about it daily when she answered phones and kept the books. Before Shane and Eve Callen were killed coming home one foggy night. At an unmarked train crossing out of Whitepine. Two more senseless deaths.
Marlee blinked rapidly and swung onto the gravel drive. Memories of the parents they’d lost when she and Mick were starting junior high threatened to overwhelm her; instead, she busied herself counting planes. A single-engine Piper Arrow and a newer turboprop Piper Seneca, a silver gleam in the last bay. The battered, refurbished Huey army helicopter she loved sat in the clearing between the smaller two cabins.
Marlee could handle every machine there. But she’d told Mick she wouldn’t fly. As Jo Beth’s sole guardian, she owed it to her daughter not to take any more risks. Her brother had expressed disappointment, but in the end he’d agreed that if she reduced his overflowing paperwork and helped ride herd on Pappy, who sometimes tended to wander, it’d be enough. A godsend, in fact. So here she was.
Her thoughts of Mick and Pappy Jack must have made them materialize—there they were, looking solid and welcoming and, well—beautiful.
She jammed on the brakes and the Ford’s tires skidded. Uncaring, Marlee jumped out, flinging her arms wide. Hugging Mick, she felt her tears on his blue cotton shirt. Still tall and blond and muscular, her twin squeezed her hard. And when he let go, Pappy Jack hugged her, too. At eighty-five, he was thinner than she remembered. His full head of hair was nearly white where it’d been nut-brown. Still the same, though, were his aquamarine eyes, a trait borne by all Callens. And his shimmered with unshed tears.
All three began talking at once. They were stopped abruptly by a wail from inside the Excursion. Spinning, Marlee dashed to the open door. She tried unsuccessfully to quiet the sobs and coax five-year-old Jo Beth Stein out to meet her uncle and great-grandpa. “Hey, tiddledywink, I’m right here. It’s okay, I haven’t left you. Jo Beth, this is our new home. Come say hi to Uncle Mick, and to Pappy Jack. Remember I showed you pictures of them before we packed my albums?”
A little girl with a mop of brown curls and weepy hazel eyes held a soft-bodied doll in one arm as if her life depended on it. She scrubbed her cheeks with her free hand but didn’t venture out of the SUV.
Marlee turned to the men. In an undertone she said, “Maybe if you went back inside to wait… I explained about her crying jags and temper tantrums, didn’t I? They started after Cole died and escalated through my tug-of-war with Rose. I’m hoping…” Marlee raked a hand through her tawny gold hair as her eyes begged her brother’s understanding.
“No problem, sis. We’ll take your luggage. Mrs. Gibson swabbed out the largest of the cabins for you. Or if you’d rather sleep in the main house until your furniture arrives, your old room’s made up. It has twin beds if you want Jo Beth to share.”
Marlee waved a hand toward the Ford. “What you see is our life in a nutshell.”
Pappy peered in the windows of the SUV. “That old broad stole your house, furniture and everything?”
She corrected his misimpression. “Cole and I rented a furnished condo because we were rarely home. As soon as I got pregnant, we decided to buy a house.” Marlee looked pained. “Pappy, it was during house hunting that I noticed Cole seemed tired. Finally, after weeks of tests, he was diagnosed.”
She would have let it go, but her grandfather said, “So, where did Cole’s mother get off trying to take your kid away from you?”
“Didn’t Mick tell you?” Her glance darted to her brother, then back to Pappy Jack. “Right after Jo Beth was born and I went off desk duty, I got orders to ship out. That’s when we let the apartment go and moved in with Rose. At the time we didn’t know how else to manage, what with a new baby and Cole undergoing treatments. We…just, uh, counted on the treatments working.” She sighed and fiddled with Jo Beth’s cap of curls.
“Don’t sweat it,” Mick said, ruffling his shorter, sun-lightened hair. “The cabin has the basics. We can add stuff as you figure out what’s missing. If you open up the back, Pappy and I can haul in your suitcases.”
Nodding, Marlee retrieved her keys. “Maybe we’ll sleep in the house until Jo Beth gets more comfortable. Set the two small bags in my old room, okay? Everything else can go to the cabin.” She couldn’t help but notice Mick’s prominent limp even before he picked up the suitcases. That gave Marlee pause. He’d told her he was fine now.
It took the better part of forty minutes to convince Jo Beth that she needed to go inside.
“Sis, I have freight to pick up in Kalispell for an early-morning delivery,” Mick announced. “And I’ve got an appointment, so I’ll be gone a couple of hours. Settle in, and if you feel up to it after dinner, I’ll show you around the office. You can take over where I left off billing. I’m warning you, I haven’t done any paperwork in months.”
“Filing’s time-consuming nonsense,” Pappy snorted. “All you need to keep the IRS guys happy is a record of income versus outgo. Most years, the latter tops the former,” he said, sounding more savvy than her brother let Marlee believe.
“Frankly, Mick, I’m anxious to start. I want to earn my keep. I hope you don’t object to Jo Beth playing with her toys in the office while I work.”
“Why would I? Mom raised us out there until we were old enough to tag after Dad and Pappy.”
A smile blossomed, the first genuine smile she’d felt in weeks. But then she watched Mick walk toward the Piper Arrow. She wasn’t mistaken; he favored his left leg. Maybe his old injury was affected by weather. The ground here looked as if it’d rained not long ago.
She took Jo Beth by the hand. “Pappy, while Mick’s gone, I’ll unpack a few boxes and suitcases and find storage space in the cabin. I want to dig out Jo Beth’s toys so she’ll feel at home. Care to tag along?”
“Nope. I let myself get involved in one of those silly afternoon soaps. You and the little squeak just come on back to the house whenever the spirit moves you.”
Marlee laughed. Pappy used to call her little squeak, too. Being home felt good. Natural, as though she hadn’t grown up and been left to deal with grown-up matters. If anybody deserved to kick back in the afternoon with TV it was Pappy. He’d worked from dawn to dusk for most of his life.
Already in a better frame of mind, Marlee struck out for the cabin. She’d forgotten the rustic charm of the knotty pine walls and cedar plank floors. Mick hadn’t been kidding. The cabin was basic, all right, boasting only the bare essentials. But Marlee didn’t want a lot of memories hanging around. It was better to leave them with Rose, who’d made one room of her home into a shrine for her husband, and a second for Cole.
Time passed as she unpacked. Before she knew it, two hours had disappeared. Now the cabin had a few personal touches, making it hers and Jo Beth’s. Collecting toys for her daughter, Marlee put them in a tote. Together she and Jo Beth wandered back to the main house.
Pappy appeared to be engrossed in another program, so Marlee set Jo Beth up near the couch, and emptied the tote onto a worn braided rug.
“Do they have a dining room, Mama? I’m hungry,” Jo Beth said suddenly.
“Me, too,” growled Pappy Jack. “I hope you can cook, girl.” Shutting off the TV, he leveled a hopeful glance at Marlee.
Since they’d come in, he’d been rocking contentedly in a scarred rocker Marlee knew had belonged to his dad. She remembered every square inch of this house, while Jo Beth had only ever lived in Rose Stein’s decorator-designed show home. What a contrast.
“Pappy, I wish I could say I was a great cook. I picked up some tips from my mother-in-law, but whenever I was at the house, it…just