“We’ll say hello, ask if they need anything, ask Marissa if the man whose picture I have on my cell phone was the one who came to the farm looking for you.”

“You think she’ll even remember? It was over a year ago!”

“I’d be satisfied with her best guess.”

Sierra held her breath. She didn’t even want to see the farm. It was the farm where she hid for three months prior to rehab; it was the farm where she had started to fear she was crazy like her father. She didn’t want to know if the bad man had followed her there.

“I’m not for certain,” Marissa said. “But I think that’s him. He was wearing such nice clothes and he said he worked for a special department of some kind. I wish I could remember. But it didn’t matter because I just said you hadn’t been around in a long time, you were in Michigan. Or you could have gone off to California.” Then she smiled with satisfaction. “And look, I was right. Wasn’t I.”

On their way back to Des Moines, they were both completely silent.

“She might be mistaken,” Cal finally said after a very long silence.

“She’s not mistaken,” Sierra said. “He followed me. I bet he did have some kind of tracker in my phone.”

“Well, the phone is gone,” Cal said. “How long after he visited the farm did you check into rehab?”

She laughed, an almost hysterical sound. “Twenty minutes,” she said. “Okay, not quite that fast, but fast.”

“And they took all your personal items, including your phone, and turned it off and locked it away.”

“Yes, and when I asked my group leader if it was possible there was an app in my phone, he said he’d take care of it. He had the phone wiped, got a new number for me, and I was able to use it again after three weeks. But I had to check it out before I could have it. I couldn’t just have it in my possession. If you can believe it, there were people making drug buys from inside, if they could.”

“I believe it.”

“I got rid of the phone anyway,” she said. “I couldn’t chance it.”

They got into Denver at seven o’clock and instead of driving home, they stopped at Maggie’s house, now a very stylish crash pad for those nights she spent in Denver so she could work. It was then that Sierra finally caught up with Connie. “We’re in Denver, staying overnight so Cal can sleep with his wife and unborn baby, but she has surgery early in the morning so we’ll be up and on our way.”

“I have to work but I’ll try to sneak away just to see you,” he said. “Then on the weekend, I’m all yours. Or maybe you’re all mine.”

“Is Molly okay?”

“I think she misses you,” he said. “She keeps looking out the living room window. I’ll be taking her to Sully in the morning before work so she’ll be waiting for you.”

“I can’t wait to see her. Has she been a good girl?”

“She found herself an elk cow and calf. All survived...”

“I’m looking forward to a quiet weekend.”

“I just hope that whatever was upsetting you is past,” he said.

“What if it’s not? What if it’s never past?”

“Then I’ll comfort you as much as I can,” he said.

Sierra had no doubt where Connie was concerned. Of course he would be supportive and comforting; of course he was brave and loyal and wouldn’t falter. But what if it turned out to be more than he signed on for? What if she one day saw regret in his eyes?

* * *

“This is as much time as I’ve spent with you since I was a little kid,” Sierra told Cal when they got back to the Crossing.

“I was thrilled by every second of it,” he said. “And I hope we don’t have to do it again anytime soon.”

“Ditto,” she said.

Her reunion with Molly and Sully was perfect; Molly attacked her with excitement and Sully showed one of his rare, toothy smiles. Cal dropped her and took off, eager to get back to building. She suspected he needed the work to clear his head. She had a cup of coffee with Sully on the porch.

“Get everything taken care of?” he asked.

“As much as possible,” she said. “It’s complicated. Let me just say there are still a few messes from the past that have to be attended to.”

“Girl, not a person alive who doesn’t have messes from the past that could use cleaning up.”

“This one is pretty awful.”

“I meant awful messes,” Sully said. “Might be time you figured something out. Your life hasn’t always been a bowl of Froot Loops, but you’re smart and strong. And I don’t know a single person who gets through this with nothing but giggles. Frank went to war three times, then he got cancer. Twice. He sent a son to war and buried him. And at my age you start to realize someone like Frank isn’t a rare thing. It’s par for the course. It turns out the mark of a happy life isn’t staying just one step ahead of the grim reaper. It’s knowing you’re strong.”

“Is that your best advice?” she asked.

“Nope. My best advice is this—by the time you meet your Maker, and may it be a long, long time from now, I hope you can close your eyes on a life where you did your damn best and tried your damn hardest. It’s not winning that’s really winning. It’s never giving up.”

“Your life hasn’t been easy, I know,” she said.

“Much of it my own making,” he said. “But there were a few times I was flawless and I ran into some rotten luck anyway. If there’s any way I can help you with anything, you’ll let me know.”

But he never asked what it was.

She talked to Connie twice but he was so busy at the firehouse, she didn’t see him. He wasn’t working the weekend and she made plans to go to his house after lunch, after helping Sully a little bit in the garden. She told Connie to get a little rest; the firehouse had been hectic.

When she got to his house she found him waiting, freshly showered and shaved. Molly ran around in circles and then to her water dish but Connie pulled Sierra into his arms.

“It was so hard being away from you,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m going to suffocate you, be too possessive, scare you away.”

“Oh, Connie,” she said. “I have so many secrets.”

He put her back on her feet. “You want to talk?”

“I do. I have to talk.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be afraid of me, Sierra. You know it’s okay to talk to me. Nothing will chase me away. I love you.”

She thought her heart might explode. “You were going to let me say it first.”

“I couldn’t wait,” he said.

“You might run for your life,” she warned him.

“Sierra, listen to yourself sell me short. I go into burning buildings for a living. I dangle over sheer cliffs to help people. And that’s the half of what I do. What’ve you got to compete with that?”

“I was raped,” she said.

He actually jumped in surprise. He grabbed her upper arms. “Recently?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“About a year and a half ago.”

“They catch the guy? Lock him up?”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” he said, a little out of breath. “Sit down. Tell me everything. I mean, tell me what you want to tell me. Just please tell me. How can I be there for you if I don’t know what’s going on?”

It took her longer to tell him all about the day with the police than it did about the actual assault, but she didn’t leave anything out. At least not intentionally. It was a lot of conversation, a lot of questions. Connie got up from the living room chair to get them bottled water from the refrigerator. He leaned his elbows on his knees, hands clasped to keep control. He scowled and even growled at times.

“You thought you saw him?” he asked.

“Several times but I was never sure. I thought he was a nightmare mirage,” she said. “I thought I saw him in Iowa and I actually chased him down and grabbed his arm. It was like temporary insanity—I had to know. It wasn’t him. Up close it didn’t look anything like him. A bunch of times I thought I spotted him and held my breath, but when he turned I realized the guy didn’t look that much like him.”

“Every time?” he wanted to know.

“I’m pretty sure the man I saw in Colorado Springs really was him. And I think the man who went to my parents’ farm was him. Connie, I think he’s around. I think he found out where I am. Maybe not exactly where, but approximately. The police told me to be very observant and very cautious.”

“I don’t know very much about rape victims and what they go through,” he said. “We made love. If there was anything wrong about that, I couldn’t tell. If you don’t like the way I touch you or hold you or—”

She shook her head. “You were the first since and it was nice. It was epic,” she added with a smile. “The rape counselor said I’d know when I was ready. For a while right after it happened, when I ran to the farm, I was a mess. I couldn’t sleep or eat. I slept with my shoes on! Couldn’t leave the house after dark and even at the house, I’d have these major anxiety attacks. When I did go out in daylight, like to drive to work, it was the country. I could see for miles. I could see no one was following me. Then I went into treatment and they got me set up in some counseling groups. I stayed in one after I was out of rehab, living in a kind of halfway house. I got stronger, very slowly. I even took some self-defense but probably not enough. But I have PTSD, there’s no question about it. I can’t park in a garage again. I can’t even go to the car wash. I can’t even think about going to the movies—there could be someone behind me in the dark. But I can walk on the trails behind the Crossing. In daylight. And I like it inside my little cabin, but I admit, before Molly came along I used to stack things in front of the door. I get freaked out at the weirdest times. I like to get up before the sun’s up and have coffee with Sully but that walk from my cabin to the store...it’s a very long walk. I usually jog.”