"It's no problem," Logan said. "I don't have anything planned. And there are some things I haven't had a chance to get to yet. Just some little things that need to be fixed."

"Like installing an air conditioner in the kennel officer'

"I was thinking more along the lines of painting the door trim and seeing what I can do to get the office window to open."

"The one that's painted shut? Good luck. My grandpa tried to fix it for years. He once worked a whole day on it with a razor blade and ended up wearing Band-Aids for a week. It still wouldn't open."

"You're not filling me with confidence here," Logan said.

"Just trying to warn you. And it's funny because it was my grandpa who painted it shut in the first place, and he had a whole storage shed full of just about every tool you could imagine. He was one of those guys who thought he could fix anything, but it never quite worked out as well as he'd planned. He was more of a visionary than a nuts-and-bolts kind of guy. Have you seen Ben's tree house and the bridge?"

"From a distance," Logan admitted.

"A case in point. It took Grandpa most of one summer to build it, and whenever Ben goes there now, I cringe. How it's lasted this long without blowing over I have no idea. It scares me, but Ben loves to go there, especially when he's upset or nervous about something. He calls it his hideout. He goes there a lot." When she paused, he could see her concern, but it lasted only an instant before she came back to him. "Anyway, Grandpa was a prize. All heart and soul, and he gave us the most idyllic childhood you could imagine."

"Us?"

"My brother and me." She gazed toward the tree, the leaves silver in the moonlight. "Did Nana tell you what happened to my parents?"

He nodded. "Briefly. I'm sorry."

She waited, wondering if he'd add anything else, but he didn't. "What was it like?" she asked. "Walking across the country?"

Logan took his time answering. "It was… peaceful. Just being able to go where I wanted, when I wanted, with no rush to get there."

"You make it sound therapeutic."

"It was, I suppose." A sad smile flickered across his face, then was gone. "In a way." As he said it, the fading light reflected in his eyes, making them seem as if they were changing color incrementally. "Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked, her expression serious.

Logan paused. "Yeah, actually I did."

"And?"

"I don't know yet."

She evaluated his answer, unsure what to make of it. "Now don't take this the wrong way, but for some reason, I don't see you staying in one place for very long."

"Is that because I walked from Colorado?"

"That has a lot to do with it."

He laughed, and for the first time, Beth was conscious of how long it had been since she'd had a conversation like this. It felt easy and unforced. With Adam, the conversation had been stiff, as though both had been trying too hard. She still wasn't sure how she felt about Logan, but it seemed right that they were finally on friendly terms. She cleared her throat. "Now, about tomorrow. I'm thinking that maybe the two of you should take my car, and I'll use the truck to go to school. I'm a little worried about the truck's brakes."

"I have to admit I wondered about that, too. But I'm pretty sure I can fix it. Not by tomorrow, but on the weekend."

"You can repair cars, too?"

"Yes. But brakes aren't hard. They need some new pads, but I think the rotors are probably okay."

"Is there anything you can't do?" Beth asked, only half feigning amazement. "Yes."

She laughed. "That's good. But okay, I'll talk to Nana and I'm sure she'll be fine with using my car. I don't trust those brakes at highway speed. And I'll make sure to check on the dogs when I finish up at school, okay? I'm sure Nana didn't mention that to you either. But I will."

He nodded just as Zeus padded out. He shook off, then moved closer to sniff at Beth before licking her hands.

"He likes me."

"He's probably just tasting you."

"Funny," she said. It was the type of thing Drake would have said, and she was struck by the sudden desire to be alone once again. She stood. "I should probably be heading back. I'm sure they're wondering where I am."

Logan noticed the clouds had continued to thicken. "Yeah, me too. I want to get home before it starts pouring. The storm seems to be getting closer."

"Do you want a ride?"

"Thank you, but no, that's okay. I like to walk."

"Gee, I never would have known," she said with a faint smile. They retraced their steps to the house, and when they reached the gravel drive, Beth pulled a hand out of her jeans pocket and gave a small wave.

"Thanks for the walk, Logan."

She expected him to correct her the way he had with Ben-to tell her again he was called Thibault-but he didn't. Instead, he raised his chin slightly and grinned.

"You too, Elizabeth."

She knew the storm wouldn't last long, though they desperately needed the rain. It had been a hot, dry summer, and it seemed like the heat would never break. As she sat listening to the last drops of rain falling on the tin roof, she found herself thinking about her brother.

Before Drake left, he'd told her that the sound of rain on their roof was the sound he would miss most of all. She wondered if he often dreamed of these North Carolina summer storms in the dry land where he ended up. The thought made her feel hollow and sad all over again.

Nana was in her room packing for her trip, as excited as she'd been in years. Ben, on the other hand, was becoming more and more subdued, which meant he was thinking about the fact that he'd have to spend a big chunk of the weekend with his father. Which also meant she'd have a weekend alone at home, her first solo weekend in a long, long time. Except for Logan.

She could understand why both Nana and Ben had been drawn to him. He possessed a quiet confidence that seemed rare these days. It was only after she got back Co the house that she realized she'd learned little about him that he hadn't already told her during their initial interview. She wondered whether he'd always been so private or if it stemmed from his time in Iraq,

He'd been there, she'd decided. No, he hadn't said as much, but she'd seen something in his expression when she'd mentioned her parents-his simple response hinted at a familiarity with tragedy and an acceptance of it as an unavoidable aspect of life.

She didn't know whether that made her feel better or worse about him. Like Drake, he was a marine. But Logan was here, and Drake was gone, and for that reason as well as more complicated ones, she wasn't sure that she could ever look at Logan with fairness in her heart.

Gazing up at the stars that had emerged between the storm clouds, she felt the loss of Drake like a newly reopened wound. After their parents had died, they had been inseparable, even sleeping in the same bed for a year. He was only a year younger than her, and she distinctly remembered walking to school with him on the first day of kindergarten. To stop his tears, she had promised that he'd make lots of friends and that she'd wait by the swing set to walk him home. Unlike many siblings, they had never been rivals. She was his biggest cheerleader, and he was her unwavering supporter. Throughout high school, she went to every football, basketball, and baseball game he played and tutored him when he needed it. For his part, he was the only one who remained unfazed by her dizzying teenage mood swings. The only disagreement they'd ever had concerned Keith, but unlike Nana, Drake kept his feelings largely to himself. But she knew how he felt, and when she and Keith separated, it was Drake she turned to for support as she tried to find her footing as a newly single mother. And it was Drake, she knew, who kept Keith from pounding on her door late at night in the months immediately afterward. Drake had been the one person she'd ever known that Keith was afraid to cross.

By that point, he'd matured. Not only had he been an excellent athlete in virtually every sport, but he'd taken up boxing when he was twelve. By eighteen, he'd won the Golden Gloves in North Carolina three times, and he sparred regularly with troops stationed at Fort Bragg and Camp Lejeune. It was the hours he spent with them that first made Drake consider enlisting.

He'd never been a great student, and he lasted only a year at a community college before deciding it wasn't for him. She'd been the only one he'd talked to about enlisting. She had been proud of his decision to serve his country, her heart bursting with love and admiration the first time she saw him outfitted in his dress blues. Though she had been scared when he was posted to Kuwait and, later, Iraq, she couldn't help but believe that he was going to make it. But Drake Green never did make it home.

She could barely recall the days immediately after she'd learned that her brother had died, and she didn't like to think of them now. His death had left her with an emptiness that she knew would never fill completely. But time had lessened the pain. In the immediacy of his loss, she never would have believed it possible, but she couldn't deny that when she thought of Drake these days, it was usually the happier times she remembered. Even when she visited the cemetery to talk to him, she no longer experienced the agony those visits once aroused. Nowadays, her sadness felt less visceral than her anger.

But it felt real right now, in the wake of the realization that she-like Nana and Ben-was drawn to Thibault, too, if only because she felt an ease with him that she hadn't known with anyone since losing Drake.

And there was this: Only Drake had ever called her by her given name. Neither her parents nor Nana, no Grandpa, nor any of her friends growing up had ever called her anything but Beth. Keith hadn't either; to be honest, she wasn't sure he even knew her real name. Only Drake had called her Elizabeth, and only when they were alone. It was their secret, a secret meant for just the two of them, and she'd never been able to imagine how it would sound coming from someone else.