A couple of the kids banged the flats of their hands
against the windows. “Ms. Mac! Let’s go!”
Apologetically Fiona said, “They really had a good
time…”
“And now they want to go home. It’s okay. Go.”
So she did. She got behind the wheel, started up the
engine, waved and drove away. Some of the kids
turned and waved, too, and John lifted his hand in
response. Then—God—he just stood there as the van
gradually accelerated into a curve of highway and
passed out of sight.
For a minute, he heard the engine. Then he was left
with silence, a hip that hurt like a son of a bitch, and
the solitude they’d interrupted.
CHAPTER TEN
IN HER REARVIEW MIRROR, John Fallon looked so alone
standing there backed only by snow and the deep green
of the forest, Fiona had to swallow to ease the pressure
in her chest.
He wanted to be alone, she reminded herself. He’d
bought Thunder Mountain Lodge because of the solitude it offered. It was silly for her to feel sad for him when he’d probably do a little jig the minute they were
out of sight and he had his peace and quiet back again.
Still, as she drove down the freshly plowed mountain
pass, she couldn’t shake the memory of him watching
them go, unmoving until she could no longer see him
in the mirror.
If he’d been glad to see them go, wouldn’t he have
turned away as soon as they’d climbed into the van and
she had started up the engine? Her heart cramped.
Would he have kissed her with such desperation if he’d
wanted to reclaim his solitude?
She tried to remember the man he was when they
first arrived, spare with words and sometimes curt with
her or the kids to the point of rudeness. Somehow, she
couldn’t quite conjure him up. Instead she remembered
the smiling man who persuaded her to dive into the
snowbank, the patient man who answered Dieter’s
endless questions, the passionate man whose touch was
also tender.
And, though she talked to the kids and concentrated
on her driving, Fiona felt an ache grow under her
breastbone, one she could only identify as a kind of
grief. She missed him terribly, although she didn’t
know how she could when four days ago she hadn’t
known him and would have sworn she was happy with
her life just as it was.
They passed through Danson, slowing to obey the
posted speed limit of twenty-five. Fiona craned her neck
to take in the small business district. He must buy his
groceries at that Safeway store, a contrast to the false-
fronted buildings on the main street. Was Thunder
Mountain Real Estate, housed in a log house, the one
that handled the lodge’s reservations? She imagined
him filling the tank of his SUV at the gas station, going
into the old-fashioned-looking drug store, nodding at
passersby as he walked down the wooden sidewalk.
Did he have friends in town, or did he avoid growing
close with anyone? she wondered.
As she accelerated, leaving the small town with its
Old West look behind, Fiona felt a sense of loss, as if
the last link with John Fallon was fraying. Then she
rolled her eyes at her own foolishness. For Pete’s sake,
she was acting like a lovesick teenager! Symptoms with
which she was all too familiar, given that she spent
more time with high school kids than she did with
adults. Heck, maybe teenage angst was catching!
“Why are you making faces?” Dieter asked from
right behind her.
Hastily she schooled her features. “Am I?”
“I saw you. In the mirror. With your face all
scrunched up.”
“Just thinking,” she said. “You know we’ll have
school tomorrow, don’t you?”
Tabitha leaned forward, one hand on the shoulder-
harness of her seat belt. “I don’t even remember what
day it is.”
“Knowledge Champs was on Friday, and we spent
three nights at the lodge.” She counted again, astonished
that their stay had been so brief. “Which makes today
Monday,” she concluded.
“I can do a four-day week,” Tabitha decided. “Especially with next week short because of Thanksgiving.”
“What about my TV marathon?” Hopper complained from farther back in the van. “Maybe I can act all traumatized, so my parents let me stay home tomorrow.”