Socks. Charger. Everything else I need.
Keys. Wallet.
I turn to leave the bedroom and…
“Damn it all.” I grab the T-shirt out of the trash and throw it on my bed. “Coward,” I say through gritted teeth.
I grab my phone to text Angie.
You win. I’m going. Should be there within two hours.
Great! Text me when you get there safely.
Will do.
I hit traffic at first. Everyone escaping for the weekend. But the sky ahead is clean. My chest loosens with every mile marker.
My GPS leads me to the cabin…
Which isn’t a cabin at all.
Damn, the Steels think this is a cabin?
It’s a mansion made of timber and glass, anchored to the mountainside like it grew here. The air in Dillon is sharp and clean. I step out of the car and stare up at the place. The A-frame peaks stretch toward the sky. Massive windows reflect the ridgeline and the sweep of the Dillon Reservoir below.
I park in the driveway and get out of the car. The sky has gotten heavy and cloudy.
I just breathe. It smells like rain.
That’s okay. I can deal with rain.
This whole place to myself for two amazing days.
I grab my stuff out of the trunk and walk toward the door. A set of footprints appears in the dried mud by the step. Fresh.
Strange. My heart goes faster for a moment until I remember that Angie said the cabin is managed. She probably had the manager come by to get everything ready for me. That’s a very Angie thing to do.
I punch in the code. The lock thunks. I push the door, heart in my mouth, and step inside to the scent of cedar and coffee.
“Hello?”
Then I jerk as a dog races toward me.
He doesn’t bark.
He doesn’t bark because he knows me.
It’s Zach.
My knees nearly give.
“Hey, buddy,” I whisper, petting his soft head. “It’s just me.”
I set my bag down. I straighten. I tell my hands not to shake.
He’s here.
Henry’s here.
