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roast with potatoes and corn, and Melanie’s homemade deep-dish apple pie. Afterward, the boys disappeared, Noah and Matt eager to show Derrick their new home. While Melanie tinkered in the kitchen, making sure Domino stayed clear of Biscuit and Charm while they ate, Aren led Caith onto the back porch.

      “I have most of the ground leased to a farmer,” he explained, nodding off toward tall stalks of corn in the distance. “He rotates crops, but it’s written into the lease he plants one field of corn every year for my use.”

      Caith raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you wanted to be a farmer, Aren.”

      His brother chuckled. “Not even close. We just want to do something for the kids around here. I’ve hired people to help out. Remember those great hayrides we used to go on? They’re few and far between these days. Farmers can’t afford the expense or the time, and anyone who can isn’t interested in making it happen.” Aren shrugged. He scuffed a shoe against the plank floorboards. “Guess I want to change that. My wife and kids grew up in a city, Caith. Noah and Matt never saw farmland until we moved here. It’s important they experience some of the things I did. I don’t want them growing up with the corporate world as the only choice they have.”

      Caith studied his brother. “You’re serious about this?”

      Aren grinned. Dressed in jeans and a green pull-over sweatshirt rather than his usual suit and tie, he looked relaxed. “I know you don’t like Halloween, but there used to be a time when you did. Before Trask.”

      Caith looked away.

      “I’m planning a maze in the cornfield,” Aren continued quickly as if to cover the sudden awkwardness. “I’ve got a crop of pumpkins we’re going to harvest for the kids to face paint. We’re going to have two weekends, starting on Friday night with the hayride and continuing through the next Sunday afternoon. The high school drama club has volunteered to act as staff, and they’ll be in costume. Balin is heading things up for me.”

      Caith hadn’t seen his nephew, Balin, in years, but knew Galen’s son would be a teenager now.

      “I’ve got vendors to provide hotdogs, pumpkin pie, caramel apples, and cider,” Aren said. “If it goes over as good as I hope, I want to make it an annual event. I’ve got the ground. Why let it go to waste?”

      Caith angled a glance at the surrounding fields. Once more a sense of déjà vu swept over him. Derrick had never been on a hayride or run giggling through rows of towering cornstalks. “What does Dad say about it?”

      Aren shot him a suspicious look. “He’s always loved the outdoors, and he’s never outgrown his small town roots. He wanted to funnel BI money into it, but I told him I wanted to do this on my own. Dad’s always supported anything that benefits the community, especially if it involves Coldcreek’s children.”

      “Too bad he didn’t feel the same about his own kids.” Caith turned away before Aren could reply. Overhead, the sun slipped toward the horizon, melting into a brass-soaked ball. Caith stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It’s not easy coming back. I’ve thought about it all day. About leaving Derry here.”

      Aren’s face registered confusion. “Caith, we talked about this.”

      “I know we did, but I’m not ready to leave Derry that long. Not here, where Trask…” He exhaled deeply, reaching a decision. “I’ll go to the lodge as a consultant, someone who’s evaluating the program for you. It’ll cause less suspicion when I start asking questions. I’ll be able to come and go as I please, and see Derry whenever I want. You can tell people you know me from Boston. Our kids are friends, and Derrick’s staying with you while I complete an assignment for BI. It’s strictly credible you’d hire someone you can trust to evaluate the program. As it is, there are people who are going to recognize me. Let’s face it, I look a lot like Dad. With any luck, I can avoid most of them.”

      “Galen isn’t going to like it. We’re changing something without his approval.”

      “Screw Galen. This is about my kid, my terms. I’ve got plenty of cases waiting back home if you want to scratch the whole deal.”

      “Why do you always have to be so bullheaded? Between you and Dad—” Aren broke off and shook his head. “All right. We’ll do it your way. I’ll advise Galen of the changes tomorrow, but I want you to go to the lodge tonight. There’s a new group of guests arriving tomorrow evening. I’d rather you had the lay of the land before they get there.” Frowning, he considered his brother. “The board isn’t involved in this, but I’d like to update them twice a week as a courtesy. Stone Willow has BI connections, but it’s a Breckwood family project, not a corporate venture. There are two working phones at the lodge, one in Veronica’s office and one in Alma Kreider’s room. You can use one of those to contact me. Cells work, but the reception is limited.”

      “Kreider’s the cook?”

      Aren nodded. “She lives at the lodge along with Veronica. Lew Walden, the caretaker, has a separate home on the property. Call when you can.”

      Nodding, Caith fell silent. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Do, um…Trask’s parents still live around here?”

      Aren hesitated. “They left the year after their daughter graduated from high school. You would have been a college freshman then. They tried to tough it out, but it was too hard for them to stay.”

      Caith nodded. “Aren, Derrick’s never been away from me for more than a night or two.”

      “I figured that. I remember in Boston when he’d spend the weekend with Noah and Matt. You were freaky about it then.”

      “This isn’t Boston. It’s worse. It’s where Trask was killed.”

      Sighing, Aren clapped a hand on Caith’s shoulder. “I know this is hard, Caith, but don’t make your fears his. There’s a reason you haven’t told him what happened to you and Trask, and it’s because you want him to grow up a normal little boy, something you didn’t get the chance to do. Let him have fun while he’s here.”

      He was being foolish. “You’re right.” The last thing he wanted was to ruin his kid’s enjoyment. He’d spent the last eight years making up for the fact that Derrick didn’t have a mother, doing everything he could to keep his life happy and fulfilled. While he might be a little on the protective side, he wasn’t going to move into suffocation mode and chain his kid to an imaginary leash. Aren understood his fears and would take care of Derrick. “I should go while there’s still light.”

      It was harder than he thought.

      When he left, Caith gave Derrick a hug with instructions to listen to his aunt and uncle. Aren trailed him to his Explorer, assuring a final time he had nothing to worry about. As Caith opened the door, he spied Derrick’s pouch of marbles in the back seat. A lump formed in his throat.

      Retrieving the pouch, he passed it to Aren. “He takes them everywhere.” Before his brother could respond, he climbed into the truck and started the engine. He never looked back as he headed for Stone Willow Lodge.

      * * * *

      Veronica sprinted down the steps, satisfied with her inspection of the guest suites. When the new arrivals checked in, they’d find everything in order. A relief, considering she’d be juggling Caith, too.

      Aren had phoned to tell her his brother was on his way and to make certain she was comfortable with Caith’s guise as a Breckwood consultant. It meant they’d be working closely. She’d never forgiven Caith his callous dismissal of her feelings, but assured Aren what happened between them had been nothing more than infatuation and puppy love. He didn’t need to know how deeply their time together had scarred her.

      “Veronica!”

      She halted at the bottom of the staircase as Alma Kreider rounded the corner. A few months shy of sixty-five, her graying hair worn in a top knot, the cook was usually no-nonsense to the point of rude. Lately, she’d grown timid, casting worried glances over her shoulder and

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