Usually that excited her. Home meant long days resting, building up reserves to face the next mission. But this time home meant something else. Facing the past, which was always kind of scary, and facing the future, which terrified her. How was she supposed to know what to do with the rest of her life? How would she know which was the right decision? What if she chose poorly? The thought of spending the next couple of months in her solitary apartment in San Francisco trying to figure everything out was more than she could bear.

She turned toward the terminal and stepped inside. The television screens showed departures. She stared at the flight numbers and destinations. The letters and numbers blurred.

She wasn’t crying; she just couldn’t see for a minute. How was she supposed to make a fresh start when she couldn’t let go of the past? How was she supposed to get over a man who still had the power to rip her to shreds?

She drew in a deep breath, but it didn’t help. Her stomach churned, and her skin felt as if it had been scrubbed with sandpaper. There wasn’t a part of her that hadn’t been affected by Zach’s words.

Get the hell out of my life.

As long as she lived, she would never forget the impact of hearing them, of seeing the disdain in his eyes. He hadn’t been happy to see her. He’d hated her touching him. Why had she bothered?

As she stared at the television screens, she reminded herself that she’d accomplished all she’d set out to do. Zach was alive and the debt was paid. Surely that was enough.

But it wasn’t. She’d foolishly hoped for more. Some kind of miracle, maybe. Or just the tiniest hint that seven years ago she’d meant something to him. That he hadn’t gone back to his life so easily that time. That maybe, just maybe, he’d thought about her and regretted losing her.

Foolish fantasies, she told herself. She should know better.

She walked toward the airline counter. There was a long line. She got in place and set her leather bag on the ground. As usual, she traveled light.

She should just let go of the past. But it had been seven years, and she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind. There had been something about him, a link she couldn’t shake. Maybe she was an idiot for not letting it go.

Forget the maybe-she was an idiot.

When she reached the counter, she smiled at the attendant. “I don’t have a reservation but I’d like to buy a ticket.”

“Where to?” the young woman asked.

Jamie paused. San Francisco. Home. She opened her mouth. “Denver,” she said, then swore silently. Denver was a couple of hours from the cabin. Zach’s cabin. She would be crazy to go there. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in her or being with her. What was she thinking?

“We have a flight leaving in about forty minutes,” the clerk said. “There are a few seats available. First-class or coach?”

“First-class,” Jamie said, and pulled out a credit card. The agency paid her well, and she didn’t have many needs. After the morning she’d been through and what she was about to face, she deserved a little self-indulgence.

Ticket in hand, she went through security, then headed for the gate. By the time she arrived, they were beginning to board. Jamie stowed her small bag in the overhead compartment, then found her seat. She settled into the wide, leather-covered cushions and leaned against the window.

She was making a huge mistake. Zach was going to stay with the agency until he died. She had decided to get out. They had nothing in common. He’d lost his humanity years before, and she wanted to find hers again. He had nothing to offer her, so why was she going to the one place where she knew he would show up?

“You’re a fool,” she murmured, then refused the wine the flight attendant offered. She just wanted to sleep. At least there she could escape the confusion of her life.

Jamie parked the rented Bronco in front of the cabin and stepped out into the crisp spring afternoon. She could feel the difference in the air from being at a higher elevation. But instead of feeling winded, she felt invigorated.

She turned in a circle, taking in the tall trees and deep blue sky. Last time she’d been at the cabin, it had been fall.

Everything had been readying for winter. Leaves had littered the ground with a blanket of brown and gray. Now the trees budded. Brilliant green leaves shimmered in the sunlight. Birds chirped. New life struggled to come forth.

Snow covered the ground, but the guy at the rental-car agency had said they were close to done with snowstorms for the season. Jamie continued to turn, stopping only when she faced the cabin.

The small house looked exactly as she remembered. Compact, well made, welcoming. Even after all this time. She smiled slightly and hoped Zach would be as friendly when he arrived. The doctor had said he would be in the hospital three weeks. Jamie doubted he would stay that long. Zach didn’t like being confined. She figured she had at least a week to prepare herself for his arrival. A week to decide what she was going to say when he asked what the hell she was doing here. Not that she hadn’t asked herself the same question a hundred times already.

“What are you doing here?” she said aloud as she moved to the rear of the Bronco and opened the back. She didn’t have an answer yet.

She grabbed a couple of grocery bags and headed toward the front door. There was a small knot in the door frame, just below waist level. She pressed it twice, and it popped open, exposing a compartment just large enough for a key.

After unlocking the door, she stepped inside. The cabin was cold and musty from being closed up. She wondered how long it had been since Zach had visited the place. She would like to think that her presence that week had somehow affected him so he found it difficult to return here, but she would also like to think a lot of other things that weren’t necessarily true.

In the living room, an overstuffed sofa sat in front of a fireplace. End tables stood on either side, stacked high with books. Zach liked to read when he was at the cabin. A table and four chairs filled the far end of the room, next to a doorway that led to the kitchen.

The place had been built in the forties, and Zach had never bothered remodeling. Jamie actually liked the old-fashioned stove unit and creamy tile. The refrigerator was new since her last visit. She put her groceries on the counter and checked out the bedrooms. The first one was the largest. It shared the fireplace, and the heat, with the living room. Jamie glanced around, pretending not to notice she was avoiding looking at the bed. But she couldn’t stare at a dresser lamp forever. Instead, she allowed her gaze to rest on the king-size mattress she and Zach had shared.

She leaned against the door frame and closed her eyes. Was it possible that time they’d spent together had meant nothing to him? Could they really not have connected emotionally? She didn’t want to believe that. He had to have felt something. At least that was her hope.

He wasn’t the only man in her life. There had been others. Once she’d discovered the pleasures available to her, she’d stopped saying no when someone who interested her asked. But it wasn’t the same, and eventually she’d given up trying to duplicate the experience of one magical week. None of the other men had made her feel what he did.

Zach was the last person she’d felt close to-heart and soul close to. He was the only person she’d cared about outside of her family. Maybe it wasn’t logical, but she couldn’t help thinking if he’d shown her the way in, he could also show her the way out. He was her only hope of returning to the ordinary world.

She left the large bedroom and checked out the smaller one next door. There was a single bed, a three-drawer dresser and a small, gas, room heater. Perfect.

After bringing in the rest of the groceries, Jamie put the food away, then made herself some coffee. While she heated water for instant, she picked up a woman’s magazine that she’d bought at the grocery store. She flipped through the glossy pages, staring at the ads. The models were so perfect and feminine. She studied their luminous skin, then touched her cheek. Seven years of living in the shadows hadn’t left her a whole lot of time for skin care.

The articles made her uneasy. “Six Ways to Be a Better Lover”; “Fruit Acids-Are You Getting Hooked?”; “ Shape Up for Summer Diet and Exercise Plan”; “Lose Ten Pounds by Memorial Day.”

After being a jock through high school and college, then joining the agency, she’d never really had the time or inclination to do the female thing. She put down the magazine and picked up the cosmetics she’d bought. There’d been so many colors and types. She didn’t know if she’d purchased the right things.

Jamie stared at the jars and tubes, then dropped them back in the plastic bag. She couldn’t deal with them right now. She also didn’t want to think about the clothes she’d bought. Feminine things. A skirt and blouse. Something millions of women wore every day. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d put on anything but pants.

But she was going to learn. After seven years of living for her job, she wanted to know how the rest of the world survived. She wanted to be normal. The only problem was, she might be too late.

The water began to boil. She poured the steamy liquid into a cup, then stirred in the instant coffee. She drank it black because it was easier. Somehow making fresh coffee for just one person seemed foolish.

She walked out to the front porch and sat on the old swing. She remembered nights spent in Zach’s arms on this swing. She closed her eyes and let the memories come. When they flooded her being, she absorbed the pain. There was nothing to do but remember and wait for him to arrive. The waiting was going to be easy. Waiting was what she did best.