ERIN LANG HAD EXPECTED challenges when she moved to Blackberry Hill.
She hadn’t expected to run into Connor Reynolds the moment she stepped out of her minivan.
Tall, broad-shouldered and self-assured, he’d been strikingly handsome in college, but now his dark hair was longer, the lean planes and angles of his face far stronger and more interesting. Impassive, he sauntered down the sidewalk past her bumper, clearly lost in thought.
And then he caught sight of her.
He snagged his sunglasses off. The crinkles at the corners of his silver-gray eyes deepened as his startled gaze swept from her to the kids piling out of the minivan.
That glimmer of a smile faded to a grim line as he gave her a polite nod and continued on without another word.
He was, she noticed with a shake of her head, just as cool and distant as ever—not that it was any surprise.
She and her cousin had attended the same college as freshmen. Stephanie had skillfully pursued this guy, apparently choosing flash over substance, but from all accounts, their troubled marriage had been a mistake from day one.
If the family rumors were true, she’d paid for that mistake with her life.
Connor had apparently ignored his wife and immersed himself in his career, while Stephanie spiraled into deepening loneliness and depression. Two years ago, she’d lost her life driving too fast on a curving mountain road. Maybe it had been ruled an accident, but Erin still had her doubts.
Drew jostled her elbow. “Who was that?” he demanded.
Erin smiled down at her ten-year-old adopted son and tousled his curly black hair. “Someone from the past.”
Righteous indignation flashed in Drew’s deep brown eyes. “He knows you, and he didn’t even say nothin’!”
“Yes, well…” She chose her words carefully. “We were never close friends.”
Since her college days, she’d seen Connor just once—at Stephanie’s funeral. It was one of the most difficult services she’d ever attended. All of Stephanie’s friends and relatives had been grieving the loss of such a young, vibrant woman, but from her parents there’d also been a palpable undercurrent of hostility toward Connor.
In return, he’d been stony-faced and silent, holding in whatever emotions he might have felt. When Erin offered him her condolences at the grave site, the flat, cold expression in his eyes had chilled her blood.
Drew’s seven-year-old brother, Tyler, tentatively edged closer to her, thumbed up his thick glasses and peered down the sidewalk, a worried frown wrinkling his forehead.
Erin rested a reassuring hand on his thin shoulders, wishing for the thousandth time that she could erase everything the boys and Lily had gone through in their young lives before they’d come to live with her. She’d adopted the boys ten months ago and Lily five months later, and they were all still struggling with the adjustment.
“Maybe that man doesn’t remember my name. It’s no big deal.” Forcing a cheery smile, she shifted her gaze to the minivan and beckoned to Lily. “Come on, let’s get the key from the Realtor so we can settle into our new place, okay? The mover’s truck should be meeting us out there in an hour.”
Lily climbed awkwardly out of the vehicle, her Harry Potter book still clutched in her hand, a page marked with her thumb. The trip north from Wausau had taken just a couple hours, and every mile of the way she’d been immersed in the story.
A good distraction, Erin mused as she herded her troops into the small, brick Dolby Realty building. When she’d told the kids about their move to a small town in the far north of Wisconsin, Drew had masked his worries with his usual belligerent bravado. Tyler had become even more withdrawn. But Lily—
Lily had cried over leaving her beloved fourth-grade teacher. She’d been even more distraught over leaving the little house in Wausau and her newly painted pink bedroom. The apple tree in the backyard. The flower beds they’d all planted in a riot of colors. And no wonder—it was the first real home she’d ever had, even if the illusion of permanence hadn’t lasted very long.
When Erin’s husband, Sam, had abruptly announced he was leaving her for another woman, he did more than simply end a six-year marriage. He brought even greater insecurity into the lives of three children who’d already endured too much.
And for that, Erin would never, ever forgive him.
Squinting at them through her bifocals, the Realtor behind the single desk in the office patted at wisps of gray hair escaping the loose bun at the top of her head. “You must be the…um…”
“The Langs, Mrs. Dolby. I called you last week to let you know we’d be coming this afternoon.” Two months ago, the woman had taken her for a tour of four rentals in the area. “We’re here to pick up the keys for the house out on Aspen Road.”
The woman pursed her lips as she shuffled through a stack of files, withdrew one with a gusty sigh and spread it open on the desk. “Of course, the Hadley cabin. Six-month lease. Gas and electricity not included. Option to renew for a one-year period.” She shook two silver keys out of the envelope and handed them to Erin. “Looks like everything’s already signed and in order. If you have any problems, call me.”
“Thanks.” Erin gestured for the kids, who were riffling through the bass-fishing magazines stacked on a low coffee table under the front window. “Let’s head out.”
“You got that job as the new hospital administrator, right?” The older woman’s voice stopped her at the door.
“Yes.” Erin turned back to her and smiled. “I start on Tuesday.”
“I never use the local hospital.” Though Mrs. Dolby had appeared a tad absentminded, she’d been pleasant company during Erin’s house-hunting expedition. There was no trace of that friendliness now.
Surprised, Erin sent the kids on out the door, then she lowered her voice. “Why not?”
“Because I’m no fool.”
“Did you have a bad experience there?”
The woman gave a derisive snort as she picked up her phone and dialed a number, then launched into a rambling conversation with someone about housing inspections and septic tanks.
Erin watched her for a moment before heading back outside to join the children.
She’d worked as a nurse for years before going back to college, and knew situations could be misconstrued by the public. Rumors could start over nothing. Grieving relatives sometimes figured that modern medicine should have been able to save their loved one, no matter how hopeless the case, so they blamed the staff, the hospital, the attending physicians for their loss.
But as Erin stepped out into the early September sunshine, the stark reality of her situation hit her. She was alone now, with three children to support. She had no friends here, no relatives within several hundred miles.
Maybe this move had been a mistake.
THE KIDS WERE SILENT as Erin drove down Main Street. Lily pressed her face to the front passenger-side window, her heavy book clutched to her chest like a security blanket. In the back, each boy huddled at a window.
Three blocks of small businesses—mostly gift shops, upscale clothing stores and the sort of arts-and-crafts stores that appealed to the tourist trade—soon gave way to pine trees and a scattering of coffee shops and bars. Beyond the downtown area, a string of sporting goods stores, geared to outdoorsmen who needed anything from fishing rods to snowmobiles to mountain bikes, rimmed the shore of Sapphire Lake.
The sparkling, dark blue waves crested in the Saturday morning sunlight, jostling the array of brightly colored boats docked at a marina near the highway. The smart, white facilities and sprawling supper club overlooking the lake spoke of money. Lots of it, if the largest boats were any clue.
Past the marina, a pretty county park followed the shore for a good half mile, then a haphazard network of tumbledown docks and aging fishing boats. A shack with a hand-painted sign promised Fishing Guide—Good Rates.
“Wow,” Tyler whispered as a glittering red boat swept close to shore, sending a high spray of water arcing like diamonds. “Can we—”
“Yeah, cool,” Drew broke in, leaning across the backseat to give his brother’s shoulder a bump. “Are we getting a boat like that one?”
Erin thought about the debts she still had to pay and the shaky financial situation at the hospital, and smiled at Drew through the rearview mirror. “Probably not for a long while. I’ll bet we can rent one, though. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
He flopped back in his seat. “Yeah, right. Like that’s gonna happen. You’ll think it’s too dangerous, or say it costs too much money. Like with the horses.”
Erin shifted her attention back to the road, knowing that explanations would just provoke an angry response.
Back in Wausau, there’d been an old man with horses who lived just a mile away. She had no doubt that Drew had badgered the poor guy until he finally agreed to let Drew clean the stalls in exchange for riding privileges.
The next day, a woman at the local saddle shop had rolled her eyes when Erin asked her opinion. The two geldings had been used for barrel racing and had been hot as pistols, she’d said, so who knew what they might be like after not being ridden for ages?
It had been clear to Erin that a boy from the inner city would be no match for twelve hundred pounds of barely leashed energy, but Drew still hadn’t forgiven her for refusing to let him ride.
A mile farther out of town, she slowed down after passing a ramshackle shed emblazoned with a faded Smoked Fish! sign. She turned up a narrow gravel road leading through a stand of aspens, then into a dark pine forest that crowded the road on either side.
“Almost there, guys,” she called out.
Lily twisted in her seat, her eyes wide. “Here? All alone?”
“Just wait,” Erin assured her. At a Y in the road she bore to the right, the van’s suspension creaking as the road grew rougher. “I think you’ll like it.”
A moment later, the narrow lane ended at a small, one-and-a-half-story log home shaded by a trio of towering pines, and beyond, a meadow strewn with a late summer rainbow of rosy fireweed, blue vervain and goldenrod. Only the distant rat-a-tat of a woodpecker broke the silence.
“So, guys—what do you think?” Erin pulled to a stop in front of the little house and held her breath, hoping for a positive reaction.
The past few months had been hectic, thanks to Sam’s insistence that their house be sold as soon as possible. Perhaps he’d been right in wanting to list it before the winter slowdown in real estate, but the abrupt change had been just one more painful chapter in a fast divorce she hadn’t expected.
Luckily, she’d finished her degree in hospital administration the semester before, and had found the job in Blackberry Hill. The interview and house hunt had involved a quick trip north—this place had been the only decent rental in her price range. There hadn’t been a single weekend free to bring the kids to see their new home.
She’d expected them to launch out of the van like missiles, excited about seeing the place. Instead, all three remained still and silent, their expressions wary.
Erin unbuckled her seat belt and twisted around to look at them. “Just a couple of rules, okay? No fighting over bedrooms, because we’ll get it all figured out. And everyone helps until we’re done today. Any questions?”
“How far are we from town?” Drew asked, his voice heavy with suspicion. “Like, can I bike there?”
Erin shook her head. “It’s almost a mile down to the road, and after that there’s another couple miles of busy highway into town. I don’t think that would be safe.”
His eyes widened in horror. “I’m going to be stuck out here?”
“Monday’s the Labor Day holiday, but after that you’ll be in town five days a week for school,” Erin said firmly. “I’m sure we’ll also be running lots of errands while we’re settling in, so you aren’t going to be ‘stuck’ out here. What do you two think? Lily? Tyler?”
Lily stared out of the front window of the car, her hands knotted in her lap. “A-are there any other kids out here?”
“I’m not sure, sweetheart. We’ll find out.”
“What about a dog? Can we get a dog?” Tyler piped up after a long silence. “We’d have room for a dog!”
“Yeah—what about a dog? Something big,” Drew suggested with obvious relish. “Like Angelo’s dog that knew how to attack. Not some sissy dog.”
Erin could well imagine the sort of guard dog Drew meant. Their mother and her last boyfriend, Angelo, had lived in a rough inner-city area, and both of them were now serving twenty-five years of federal time for multiple drug offenses.
“I’d never buy a dog that might be dangerous,” Erin warned them. “It’s not worth the risk to us, or anyone who visits.”
“But you’d get a nice one?” Tyler whooped with joy. “Really?” He bounced on the seat. “When? Can we go today?”
Back in Wausau, she’d never been able to get them a dog or cat because Sam had been allergic to both. “Look, guys,” she said. “I know it sounds like a great idea. But first, we’re going to give this town a try. If things work out—if my job goes well and if the school system is good—then we’ll look into buying a house of our own. Until then, a dog just isn’t possible.”
“Why not?” Drew demanded. “We’d take care of it.”
“This is a rental. I didn’t check the lease, but I’m sure the landlord wouldn’t let us.”
“Please,” Lily pleaded. “Can you ask? Please?”
“Well…” Erin found herself confronted by three desperately hopeful faces. “Okay. Once we get moved in, I’ll ask the Realtor, but if she says no, then we have to abide by that. And if—if—we can have a dog here, I’ll expect you all to help look after it. Deal?”
All three kids nodded, their eyes sparkling with excitement, and she knew she had to do everything in her power to make it happen.
They’d each faced the loss of one home after another, and they’d learned to avoid attachments to people and places. Maybe they weren’t excited about this cabin, but having a dog to love would be wonderful therapy for them all.
From behind her car she heard the rumble of a truck creeping up the steep, rocky lane, and minutes later a small moving van lumbered into view.
“Okay, so here’s the plan. The guys I hired will help us get everything into the house and put the big pieces where they belong. The rest of it is up to us.” She grinned at them, her own excitement rising, as she handed Drew one of the house keys. “The sooner we get settled, the sooner we can have some fun. Let’s go inside and figure out who gets which bedroom.”
At that, the van doors flew open and the kids ran for the house, with Lily lagging behind as always, because of her weak left foot. At the porch, though, the boys waited for her to catch up.
Watching them, Erin’s heart filled with such deep love and pride that her eyes burned.
Sam had betrayed their family, but he’d thrown away something very precious and he’d been too self-centered to even realize it.
A good job, a good town, and these children were all she needed from now on. And if a puppy could help with this latest upheaval in their lives, then so be it.
After conferring with the two men she’d hired to move her furniture, she jogged up to the house while they backed the truck to the front door.
The wide porch, with its log posts and railing, looked out over a small meadow rimmed by a narrow stream on the northern boundary. Stepping inside the double screen doors, she sighed with pleasure. The entryway opened onto a great room with a stone fireplace dominating one wall, an exposed staircase to the loft another. On the left, an archway led into the kitchen.
Lily appeared in the doorway straight ahead, which led to a hallway, two bedrooms and the bathroom. “We figure you should have the big bedroom back here,” she said shyly. “I really like the other one, if that’s okay. It’s real pretty.”
“Of course it’s okay.” Erin cocked her head, listening to the footsteps thundering overhead. “Sounds like the boys found the loft—did you see it?”
Lily shuddered. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t want to stay up there if they did.”
“This is cool!” Drew shouted.
Erin looked up at the balcony, relieved to see the broad smile on his face.
She’d figured the boys would like the loft, with its built-in bunk beds and steeply slanted ceiling. There was a little cupola on the roof, too—a steep ladder on one wall led up into a small lookout tower, glass on all sides, and she could well imagine them up there, playing all sorts of games involving adventure and fantasy.
“Drew!” Tyler shouted. “Quick!”
At the hint of panic in his voice, Erin rushed up the stairs and into the loft bedroom.
She could see just his Nikes and the hem of his jeans up in the cupola, then Drew scurried up the ladder and crowded him to one side. “What is it?” she called out.
The boys were silent for a long moment, then they scrambled down the ladder, Tyler’s face pale and Drew’s alight with excitement. “We saw a wolf,” he exclaimed. “It was huge! Right out there next to the trees.”
One of the movers knocked sharply at the front, then the screen door squealed open. “Ma’am—where do you want this couch?”
“I’ve got to get back downstairs,” Erin said. “I don’t think you could’ve seen a wolf, though. Not here. But just in case, I want you kids to stay within sight of the cabin, hear? Don’t go wandering off. And keep a close eye on Lily.”
“It was a wolf,” Drew insisted, his voice following her down the stairs. “And it had something dead in its mouth, like a big rabbit. Tyler saw it, too.”
On the main floor, Lily stood by the stairs, her eyes darting toward the large casement windows of the great room. “The men say it’s true,” she whispered. “There are wolves here…and you can’t shoot ’em, ’cause they’re pro—pro—”
“Protected, unless you can prove that one of them is killing livestock,” one of the men said as he backed into the living room holding one end of a sofa. “They were reintroduced in the north country ten years ago, and they’ve been ranging farther and farther south.”
Erin thought about the half-mile lane to this cabin, and the fact that there were no close neighbors…and no friends nearby to call in an emergency.
The idea of a dog—a very big dog—suddenly held far more appeal.