“I’d like to take you somewhere. Away somewhere. You can tell your brother you’re going shopping for a couple of days in Denver and we can—”

She cut him off with laughter. “He would never believe that. Besides, I don’t have to make up a story for Rob. He’s a grown-up. He’s not shocked that I have someone in my life.”

“And the nephews?”

“Well, I explained a couple of weeks ago that I was dating someone. They don’t know you so I just said you were the brother of a friend. I wanted them to know that if I was extra late or even seemed to be missing, I was not kidnapped—I was with you. And if they’re worried, they should call my cell.”

“How’d they take it?” Dakota asked, propped up on an elbow.

“Finn said, ‘Go, Aunt Sid,’ and Sean said, ‘Ew.’ I think that means they both understand what dating means to a thirty-six-year-old woman.”

“So should we go away?” he asked hopefully.

“I suppose we can. Or we can just have breakfast here...”

“You’ll stay the night?” he asked.

“Would that be good?”

“That would be so good,” he said, leaning over her and kissing her again. “I’m willing to grab a little time with you whenever we can but I’d love it if we weren’t on the clock for twenty-four hours.”

“At the moment, I don’t have commitments...”

“Do you have any in the morning?” he asked.

“No,” she said with a laugh. “I did promise to make Sunday dinner for the family. Would you like to come?”

Unbelievably, he blushed. “Sure. I’ve gotten used to Rob giving me that look like I might be debauching his baby sister, but Sean and Finn are at that special age. I don’t know what to expect from them. Could be demoralizing.”

“Debauching,” she repeated. “You did get a good education in the Army. Your vocabulary is very good. I think you should expect ‘Go, Aunt Sid’ and ‘Ew.’ And they might tease, but they don’t scare me.”

“They don’t?”

“Your family was very well behaved. Welcoming, even. They’re cool. I am in love with most of them, especially Sam. Was that a huge surprise to you?”

“Everything around here surprises me,” he admitted. “Cal and Maggie surprise me. Cal was married before. His wife died a very sad and painful death while I was in Iraq. She had scleroderma. That’s when—”

“I know what it is,” she said. “Was that long ago?”

“A couple of years before he met Maggie. And I knew Sierra and Connie talked about fostering kids but I didn’t know they were thinking about adopting. I didn’t know Connie was actually at the accident when Sam’s mother died. I think they did the right thing, getting married right away and pursuing the adoption. I haven’t been as close to my brother and sisters as I should have been. It’s hard when you’re in the military and deployed all the time. Now that I’m around them, they’re pretty cool people. I keep asking myself if they’ve always been and I was missing out.”

“What did you plan to do when you got out of the Army? I know you didn’t pin all your hopes on being a garbage collector.”

“I got out kind of suddenly,” he said. “I used to think maybe I’d teach. I don’t know what—history, maybe. I’d have to go back to school. I never did get a teaching certificate. I studied history and English and political science.”

“English!” she said, surprised.

“I think we all did, all four Jones kids. We didn’t have a TV—we read. We didn’t have many books and we’d read them over and over and then trade them at a used-book store for a new supply. Cal can recite To Kill a Mockingbird, practically the whole book. I noticed that Sierra has a full bookcase now, but there are a few completely worn paperbacks—Pride and Prejudice. Another is Wuthering Heights.”

“And your favorite books?”

“Steinbeck. Hemingway. Jack London.”

“Ah. And did testosterone flow from the pages?”

“Well, I thought so...”

“We have so much to learn about each other,” she said.

“What do you need to know? Do you need to know that I’m in trouble here? Because I’ve known you three months, been this close to you for three weeks, but it hasn’t been often enough. And I already want to sleep with you every night. And not just sleep.”

“Sex really works for you, doesn’t it, Cody?”

“It does, but that’s not really what I was thinking about. I was thinking about rolling over and feeling your soft skin, hearing you breathe—you snore a little. It’s a cute snore. When you fall asleep, you curve against me and put your leg over me. Your hair tickles me. Your hands wander...”

“Do not,” she said.

“Do so,” he argued.

“We still have so much to find out...”

“Tell me what you need to know,” he said. “You know I grew up strange—my parents are beyond crazy. It wasn’t an easy childhood and we all left as soon as we could, the second we got out of school. Cal and Sedona found a way to go to college but I wasn’t that imaginative. I joined the Army.” He brushed back her hair. “Is that what you want to know?”

She looked up at him and smiled. “I want to know who you loved.”

He rubbed her hair back a little longer. “Not yet, okay?”

“Is it very private?” she asked.

“It’s private, yeah,” he said. “That’s not about you. I have this feeling I don’t want to keep things from you. But just not yet, okay?”

“That means you haven’t told your family?”

“That’s what it means. But I don’t want to talk about it right now because I don’t want to be sad. You’re in my arms and I am so happy. Can you give me a little time?”

She raked her fingers through his beard. “It must still hurt.”

“I guess. I want to feel good right now, when you’re here, naked, mine for the night.”

“Reasonable,” she said. “What do you have for breakfast?”

“Bacon, eggs, toast.”

“Do you have fruit and oatmeal?” she asked.

“It never crossed my mind.”

She sighed. “If I’m going to get a pass from my brother and nephews, we’re going to have to stock up.”

“Give me a list, gorgeous, and I’ll get anything you want.”

“Want to explore your woods after breakfast?” she asked. “I brought some outdoor clothes and shoes. In my car.”

“An overnight bag?” he asked with lifted eyebrows.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d say no. And I’m fussy about having my own toothbrush. But I’m afraid I neglected to bring pajamas.”

* * *

Maggie drove to Denver early Tuesday morning and went directly to her practice. She had left Elizabeth with Cal. She had several patients to see in the office, then she was spending the afternoon in surgery—two simple cases and one complex surgery that could last well into evening. In fact, she might have two very long days, which was why she left Elizabeth at home, though she started missing her the minute she left.

It was almost nine in the evening by the time she got to her house in Denver. She had grabbed fish and chips to go from the nearest pub. She planned to eat in bed with the TV on. She put the take-out food in the microwave to warm up while she changed into pajamas. She loved her little house but when it was quiet, like now, she wanted her husband and baby. While she was working, she was glad to be working, but to be away from them when she wasn’t working time seemed to drag.

She was aware that something was different. She couldn’t tell what it was. Back in the kitchen, it was so shining clean. Maggie was tidy but she usually left mail or a book on the counter, maybe a water glass or coffee cup in the sink, but there was not so much as a streak or smudge, not a single fingerprint on the stainless steel.

She opened the pantry and her heart sank. Everything was lined up, neatly, organized by size and color and probably alphabetized. Her house had been scoured. She did not want to see her panties folded into neat little squares. But she was pretty sure Sedona couldn’t help herself.

When they came to Denver together, Sedona had returned her rental car to the airport and spent a couple of days at Maggie’s house. She had unpacked, hung the dress she’d brought for Sierra’s wedding in the guest closet, put her pumps under it on the floor, lined up perfectly, and Maggie had taken her to her doctor’s appointments. When Sedona had agreed to an inpatient evaluation, Sedona had left behind her dress and shoes.

Maggie checked and they were gone.

It was not likely a burglar had broken in and taken them. And scoured her house. Sedona could not have called Cal—Cal would have told Maggie if he’d heard from his sister. While her fish and chips grew cold in the microwave, Maggie found Nan Tayama’s cell phone number in her phone. She texted her. Sedona’s dress and dress shoes are gone from the closet and I suspect something is wrong. My house has been scoured, top to bottom. Do you know anything about this?

She waited a few minutes. The good doctor could have been asleep for all Maggie knew. Finally the answer came. She left our facility last week. She said she was going home.

Maggie knew the rules. Sedona had agreed to hospitalization and had not named anyone to receive information about her medical condition, not even her doctor sister-in-law. But just to be sure she had to ask... Did you discharge her?

I did not, came the reply.

Can you tell me when she left the hospital? Maggie asked.

Thursday. Midday.

And that was all Nan Tayama would be at liberty to say, thanks to HIPAA laws. Maggie thanked her and called Cal. Maggie then called Bob because Cal was clearly flustered. Bob had not heard from his wife. He knew she had agreed to see a doctor in Denver and he had been so hopeful, knew she had decided to stay in an inpatient treatment program, but she hadn’t been in touch. Everyone started dialing her cell number, with no results.