“Walking on the wild side tonight?” she asked. She poured a small amount into a glass and handed it to him.

“Not very wild—I have the tow business tonight. This looks awesome.” He ran a cracker through the dip and chased it with a sip of red wine.

“My food preparation really lights your fire. I think in an earlier life you liked to drag your woolly mammoth home to the cave for your woman to butcher and roast.”

“And then she tanned the hide and made me pants.” He chewed a couple of grapes. “What have you been doing tonight?”

“Mostly watching the show,” she said, pointing her wine toward the sliding glass doors. “It’s the first really good one since I moved here.”

“Well, it gets better and more frequent through summer,” he told her. “We’re going to spend a lot of time on the deck.”

“And in bed,” she said, taking a grape and sip of wine.

“Storms or not,” he said.

They leaned back against the pillows and headboard of the bed, tray between them, and watched the fury over the bay. Sometimes, when the lightning was close, the noise was so deafening they both jumped in surprise. When the lightning struck one of the big rocks in the bay, they shouted in excitement as if they were kids at a fireworks display.

And then the rain began in earnest and Laine moved the tray, put her wineglass on the bedside table and curled up against him. The lightning became flashes behind clouds while the wind blew the rain against the windows.

“If you had told me five years ago that one day I’d have this kind of life, I never would have believed it,” Eric said.

“You mean ‘stable’?” she asked.

“Once I got prison out of the way, stability became my middle name. It was a priority. I didn’t make too many fast moves—I liked the no-drama zone a lot. But I was sometimes overworked and pretty often bored. No, I didn’t know I’d be working on my second business, that I’d be a father to a wonderful girl, that I’d be laying in bed with the most incredible woman I’ve ever met....”

“Well, does it come as any surprise that I didn’t see you in my astrological charts, either? I thought I’d spend half my life investigating, establishing probable cause, and the other half undercover or in court. And then there’s the paperwork...”

“Is this life getting too dull for you?”

She shook her head. “This is the best I’ve felt since my mom passed away. I wish I’d had my aura read or something—I bet it was spikey and black and nervous before.” She turned her head and looked up at him. “I bet it’s all soft pink and lavender now. I was all about controlling the stress before. I think you sucked the stress right out of me.”

“Me?” he asked.

“You and a couple of other things. Some healthy distance from Senior helped. A second look at the commune, disarmed. And I don’t know what’s different about this place but the people are... They’re nice. They let me in. I didn’t realize how few women I had in my life. Well, I realized it, but I didn’t know I could do anything about it. I didn’t know what kind of friendship I was missing.”

“Were there just men in your life?”

“Not what you think. I worked with mostly men and the women I had grown close to were more mentors than girlfriends. I don’t have to prove myself to these people, to these women, and it’s different. I can tell you something that might scare you to death.”

“I’ve learned to be very brave where you’re concerned....”

“I’m going to resign from the FBI this week. I like my new life. I like being here, being with you. I’ve gotten a little lazy....”

“That last assignment took a lot out of you,” he said. “Another few months like this and you could be ready for your edgy life again.”

“What if I’m not?” she asked.

“And what if I’m not enough?” he asked her.

“Eric, you’re not under any pressure, please believe that. My expectations of you are the same as they’ve been from the start—just having you in my life is enough.”

He slid an arm around her and pulled her on top of him. She was stretched out over the length of him. He pulled her mouth onto his while thunder rumbled over them. He kissed her deeply. When he let her go he said, “Don’t tease me. You know you’re all I want.”

* * *

When the rain was driving inland over the bay, Hank Cooper grabbed his rain slicker and flashlight and went outside through the back door of the bar. He crossed the parking lot and shone the light on the path that would soon be a stone sidewalk. He braced a foot on the raised floor of the structure that would be his house and pulled himself up and inside. He pointed the flashlight toward the large open room in the front of the house. Sarah sat on a stack of two paint cans, looking out the glassless window at the storm. Her growing middle seemed to be precariously balanced over her thighs.

“I wish you wouldn’t prowl around over here in the dark,” he said.

“I wanted to check out the storm, see what we’d see from the great room.”

“Sarah, what if you tripped over construction debris and fell?”

“I’d bounce,” she said.

“Please tell me you didn’t lift a full paint can to stack those....”

“Okay,” she said.

“You did!”

“I’ve been instructed not to tell you....”

“You’re a wiseass,” he accused. He took off the slicker and draped it around her shoulders. “Come on. I’ll light the way. And step carefully—it’s wet and muddy out there.” He put an arm around her waist, what there was of it, and led the way. He jumped down first and reached up for her, lifting her down, his arm staying around her.

“If you slip and fall, you’ll take me with you.”

“I’m as sure-footed as a mountain goat,” he said, then slipped. He righted himself before he could do any damage. He got her inside and hung the slicker on a peg by the back door. “You feeling all right, babe?”

“I feel amazing. I wish the house was done.”

“Another six to eight weeks,” he said, running a hand over her pregnant belly. “Before she comes.”

“I wish it could be done in time for a graduation party for Landon.”

“We’ll have a great party right here. We have the deck and the beach. It’ll be good, don’t worry.”

Landon appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, mop in hand. “Did I hear my name?” Then he looked at the floor beneath their feet. “Aw, man. I just mopped.”

“Be nice,” Cooper said. “We’re planning your graduation party.”

“Cash money would be better,” he said with a grin.

“I think the University of Oregon is going to get the cash money,” Cooper said. “You’re getting a party. And a new niece.”

“Well, could you please move my sister and niece over so I can mop up that puddle you brought in?”

Cooper scooted Sarah over onto the rug inside the door. “Hey, Landon, you know a kid named Justin Russell?”

“Should I?”

“He went to your high school, but I take it he dropped out.”

“Oh, yeah? Oh, wait, he’s that kid who pumps gas at Lucky’s, right? He hardly ever says two words. So, what’s up with him?”

“When I stopped to get gas tonight, Eric mentioned the kid’s mother was taken to the hospital in an ambulance and there’s no dad in the family. The kid’s mom is an invalid. Justin seems to be taking care of his younger brothers. By himself.”

Landon whistled. “I hope he can manage as well as Sarah did, raising me alone. That can’t be easy. Poor guy.”

“Well, if you talk to him, like when you’re getting gas or something, you might ask him if there’s anything we can do to help. If you mention about being raised by your sister...”

“I can do that, Cooper, but I’m telling you—that kid doesn’t want to talk.” Landon gave the mop a swipe across the floor. “He probably doesn’t know what hit him. I’ll be sure to say hi. Or something...”

“Sometimes it doesn’t take much,” Cooper said. “You know—just reach out. Sometimes all a guy needs is a chance.”

* * *

The rumble of thunder and the rain against the window woke Sally Russell and she stirred in the hospital bed. She hadn’t been asleep very long—respiratory therapy kept waking her. This time when she opened her eyes she saw her son sitting in the chair beside her bed. “Justin?” she asked sleepily.

He stood up and came to the bedside. “Hi, Mom. How do you feel?”

“My chest hurts, but I think it’s getting better. I’m doing that breathing machine every couple of hours, at least. And I have antibiotics in the IV. Why are you here?”

“I got the boys home and came back. In case you need me.”

“I don’t need you, honey. There are nurses....”

“I mean, in case you’re upset or worried. You know...”

“I’m fine. I don’t want you to sit in that chair all night. You need to get home, get some sleep.”

“I’ll go in a while,” he said. “When the rain lets up some. I just wanted to make sure you’re doing okay.”

“You spoil me,” she said. Her voice was a whisper punctuated by attempts to take deep breaths. Justin had to lean close to hear her. “We have to be realistic, honey. You and the boys can’t take care of me anymore.”

“We’re okay, Mom. Really.”

“I know you’d do anything for me, I know. I want you to talk to Dr. Grant about what we do next. As a family.”

“Maybe the nurse can come more often. If the nurse can come more often...”

She was shaking her head. “I’m tired now, honey,” she whispered. “Maybe tomorrow we can talk more about this. I want you to go home. Get some rest.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I’ll just sit here for a few minutes. Until you fall asleep.”

She nodded and let her eyes close and he held her hand, but backed away to sit in the chair.

She was giving up.

Justin couldn’t remember a time they hadn’t lived with MS. It wasn’t long after his youngest brother was born that it was confirmed—her symptoms were related to MS; her muscle weakness and spasms, her lack of coordination and tremors, slurring speech. Then her vision became so bad if she didn’t fall because of her clumsiness, she might trip or miscalculate a step. From that first diagnosis until she needed almost full-time help was only a few years. Justin was doing more to help and take care of the family than anyone else by the time his father couldn’t take it anymore.

“You had to grow up too fast because of me,” his mother frequently said.

“It’s not your fault, Mom,” he whispered.

When he was sure she was sleeping soundly, he quietly left the room. He was walking down the hall when he ran into Dr. Grant.

“Just the man I wanted to see,” Scott Grant said. “I was going to catch up with you tomorrow in Thunder Point, but this is good. You came over to visit your mom?”

Justin nodded. Silent. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment.

Scott Grant put a hand on Justin’s shoulder. “Come on. I’ll walk out with you. I can keep your mom for a few days, maybe a week. Here’s what we’re going to have to do—her name is on a list for extended nursing care. They expect a bed in a week at the earliest, a month at the longest. If your mom goes home again, Justin, it’s going to be the last time. She needs full-time nursing care and therapy. She’ll have more time if she gets what she needs.”