LITMIR.BIZ

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smiled at her. “If we’re going to fly in the face of my brother’s wrath together, I think you should call me Addy.” She pointed out the front windscreen, where in the distance a rambling three-story building was barely discernable among the tall ponderosa pines. “There’s our resort—Lightning River Lodge. My brother’s up there right now playing the little Dutch boy with his finger in the dike.”

      Addy explained about the plumbing problem. “Since our father’s stroke, Nick’s been the one everyone goes to. And we tend to rely on him for…well, for just about everything.”

      Guess he’s not into delegating, Kari thought. Control freak. Out loud she said, “You know, if he’d just let you take me to begin with, we could have saved some time and hassle. He needs to lighten up.”

      Addy gave her a look that said that wasn’t likely. “He’s not usually that cranky, but the week started off badly, and it’s been a horrible day. I think you were the last straw. And truthfully, I suspect he just didn’t like the idea of me going up after dark.”

      “Do you like flying?”

      “It’s great. I’m pretty good, too, but I’ll never get better if Nick doesn’t stop trying to protect me. Of course, everyone in my family’s that way. I’m the youngest.” She made an infinitesimal adjustment with the pedals so that the helicopter tilted slightly to the right. “Look there,” she said, pointing out the side windscreen. “Elk.”

      Kari watched a small herd leap away from the noise. “They’re beautiful. We don’t have much wildlife left back home in Florida.”

      “This whole area, from Denver to Vail, is some of the prettiest country in Colorado. The area we’re flying over right now is the Lightning River Basin.” She jerked her chin downward and to the left. “Down there by the river is where my family originally settled when they came here. My grandparents were looking for someplace that would remind them of their home back in the Italian Alps.”

      “Italian pioneers.”

      Addy laughed. “That’s what my father claims, but I always thought they stopped here because facing the trip over the Rockies looked too intimidating.” She tilted her head at Kari. “So what’s so special about Elk Creek Canyon?”

      “I don’t know. I’ve never been there.”

      Addy turned her head to see if she’d heard correctly. “What?”

      “Are you familiar with Madison Churchill?”

      “The writer? Sure. I loved Strange Disguises.”

      “He was my father.”

      “No kidding,” was all Addy said.

      The magic of that famous connection received a brief ceremonial silence. Anyone Addy’s age probably knew of “Mad” Churchill. He’d been compared to Hemingway, and his books were that rare thing in the publishing world—both popular and well-respected. His stories were vivid, imaginative and bold. All his heroes were the kind of sexy, noble adventurers that men wished in their hearts they could be and women wished they could find and marry.

      Well, all but the last one. The hero of Hours of Ice hadn’t been anyone’s idea of a Madison Churchill protagonist.

      “Wow,” Addy said at last. “All those places he wrote about. You must have had some pretty fantastic vacations, traipsing around the globe.”

      Kari ducked her head a moment, formulating her response. People often assumed that. You’d think she’d have gotten used to it by now. “Actually, no. My mother hated traveling, so we stayed home most of the time.” Waiting.

      “But I remember reading that he was a stickler for research. That he liked to spend weeks and weeks in the places he wrote about…”

      As though realizing that long absences from a husband and father could hardly have meant an idyllic home life for Kari, Addy stopped talking and began fiddling with a couple of the dials and switches on the pilot’s console.

      “Elk Creek Canyon was the setting for his last book,” Kari said, trying to make the woman feel more comfortable.

      “Hours of Ice.”

      “You know it?”

      “Of course. I have to admit, though, it wasn’t my… It was different than all his others.”

      “That’s what a lot of people said.” And some had said much worse things than that, Kari remembered with a touch of bitterness.

      “It sure made news around these parts. Not the book. I mean, what happened. That freak blizzard so early in the season. And then your father, such a famous guy, being lost all those weeks. Finally being rescued. Waiting must have been horrible for you.”

      “I was out of the country at the time, working on a story. I didn’t even know he’d missed the date he was due back. My mother flew out here when the National Park Service called and told her that a full search was on. She had to go through most of it alone.”

      “Poor woman,” Addy said sympathetically. “And then to lose him anyway. I mean, the fact that he…” Her words stumbled as she struggled with a better way to express herself. “It shocked everyone that he…”

      “Never regained consciousness,” Kari finished for her.

      Even in the fading light, Kari could see that Addy regretted bringing up the subject. Her cheeks were like twin beacons.

      “I’m sorry,” the woman said. “Is it hard for you to talk about?”

      Kari shrugged. “Not as much as it used to be. It’s been two years since he made the trip.”

      “So you want to see where he got his inspiration for that book? Minus the blizzard, of course.”

      “That’s one reason. There are others.” She grimaced. “I’m sure someone like your brother would find them foolishly sentimental.”

      “Probably,” Addy agreed. “Nick’s not much for sentimental stuff.”

      Kari could well imagine the truth in that statement.

      “I’ve been to Elk Creek Canyon a couple of times,” Addy said. “I think you’ll be disappointed. It’s not very remarkable.”

      “That doesn’t matter to me. I just want to see it. I had planned to have a long conversation with the park office first, get a better feel for my father’s itinerary and why he chose that particular place. But my last assignment ran longer than it should have and I had to rely on the newspaper reports I pulled from the Internet to pinpoint just where he camped.”

      “So you’re a journalist?”

      Kari nodded. “Magazine articles mostly, so I finally get to travel as much as he did.”

      “No aspirations to be a novelist, too?”

      “Unfortunately, I don’t seem to have my father’s flair for fiction.”

      “Tough shoes to fill.” Addy smiled at her with kindness. “But maybe someday…right?”

      “Maybe,” Kari said, wondering if she still believed that. She had a drawer back home full of rejection letters. It had been a long time since she’d tried to write her father’s kind of story. Or any fiction, for that matter. In the deepening silence between words, where the truth lived, Kari thought she suddenly knew the answer. No. I’ll never be good enough.

      Dusk was settling, coming fast. Even if the helicopter compass hadn’t been positioned almost directly at eye level, Kari would have known they were flying north. The Rockies were a dark, jagged barrier to her left, and behind them the sun had stopped playing hide-and-seek and had disappeared completely.

      Addy looked her way again. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you wait two years to make this trip?”

      A tremor went through Kari as she remembered

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