"And when those fields are covered in fluffy white snow?"
"Huh. Never thought of that."
I shook my head as I rubbed her ears. "I don't need a dog, Jack."
"But you want one."
"Nadia?" Emma called before I could answer him. She leaned over the porch rail, holding the phone. "It's your Aunt Evie."
"Fuck," Jack muttered. "Said a week. Waits exactly that. To the hour, I bet."
I motioned to Emma that I'd be there in a moment, and handed the dog over the side to Jack.
"Tell John to bring the puppy over," Emma called. "Owen wants to see it."
"And she doesn't," I murmured.
"Haven't decided, have you?"
"Not yet. I guess I'd better think fast."
As I climbed out of the truck bed, I looked around. At the lodge, the bright midday sun cresting over the roof. Towels flapped in the wind, hung to dry before guests arrived. The smell of soup and freshly baked bread wafted from the open windows. Emma laughed at something Owen said as he refilled the bird feeders, sneaking glances at the dog. I glanced at Jack, the puppy playing tug-of-war with his sleeve.
I looked around and had the overwhelming urge to say "good enough." This was good. This was right. This was me.
Stick with this. Sneak out a couple of times a year for the Tomassinis, and if it doesn't scratch the itch, just say "good enough."
Don't go deeper. Don't even look deeper. Tell Evelyn no.
And if I did that, did I secure my world? Keep it all sunshine and puppies? Or only make the darkness burrow deeper, fester deeper.
I took a deep breath, filling my lungs until they stung, then slowly let it out.
"Be back in a minute."
He nodded. "I'll be here. Whatever you decide."
I headed for the lodge.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KELLEY ARMSTRONG is the author of nine books of the Otherworld, as well as two Nadia Stafford thrillers. She lives in Ontario, Canada, with her family. You can visit her at: www.kelleyarmstrong.com.
