LITMIR.BIZ

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family to care for him because as surly as he was, who else would take him on? Before her shift ended, Bill, the bartender, had made a phone call and two men bearing a family resemblance to Marc had arrived to take him home.

      Fiona walked through the barn and scooped up a handful of pellets from the barrel before going out to see the alpacas. Ebony, Snowdrop and Papa John walked daintily down the mound single file to greet her at the fence.

      “How are my babies today?” she crooned to Ebony while Papa John sniffed at her hair and Snowdrop nudged her for treats. Holding her hand flat she fed them each a handful, smiling as their muzzles tickled her palm.

      Some of the pellets fell into the grass and as Snowdrop dipped her head to nibble them, Fiona recalled how Marc had fallen out of his wheelchair. She cringed with embarrassment for him. Had he been joking about killing himself, or not? It didn’t make sense if he was assured of recovery, but he wouldn’t be the first paraplegic to suffer denial, especially shortly after injury. Maybe she should have spent more time with him.

      No, she was not going to feel sorry for him.

      “I don’t need another lost soul to care for, do I?” she asked Papa John. The cream-and-brown alpaca hummed softly and bobbed his head.

      “Fiona!” Jason called from the open back door. From the low deck, another ramp slanted down to a concrete path that branched off to the driveway and the barn. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

      “Coming.” She made sure the alpacas had water, tossed them each a flake of hay, then turned toward the house as the setting sun streaked the western sky with pink and orange above the mountains. As usual, a few minutes with the animals had turned into half an hour without her being aware of the passage of time.

      The kitchen was full of light and warmth and the spicy aroma of beef burritos. Travel posters from Greece covered the walls with images of blue sky and whitewashed villas cascading with hot-red geraniums. Bilbo and Baggins, stray dogs of indeterminate parentage she’d rescued from the pound, came to greet her, tails wagging.

      Jason was positioned before a section of benchtop specially constructed at a lower height, slicing lettuce and tomatoes. A long lock of fine straight hair the same hue as hers fell over his hazel eyes.

      Fiona hugged him in greeting. “How was your day?”

      “Pretty good.” Jason smiled up at her. “I linked the electronic circuitry of the sound system in my bedroom to a switch operated by the front door. When the door opens, music comes on. It’s my own invention.”

      “Great. What do you call it?”

      He looked at her pityingly. “A burglar alarm, of course. Oh, and I taped the noon movie for you. Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn.”

      “Thanks, Jase.” She ruffled his hair. “You’re due for a cut. I’ll make you an appointment in the morning.”

      Jason pushed the hair off his face. “I’m not totally helpless. I can make my own appointment.”

      “Of course you can,” Fiona agreed. Except that it wouldn’t have occurred to him and they both knew it. “Just check with me about a time when I can drive you there.”

      At just-turned eighteen, her brother was the same age she’d been when she’d become his carer. He was more than a boy but not yet a man. She, on the other hand, had had no choice but to grow up quickly, going from sister to surrogate mother overnight when their family car had collided with a logging truck, killing their parents outright and paralyzing Jason. Only she had come out of the accident unscathed. On the outside, at least.

      Fiona shrugged out of her navy polar-fleece jacket and crossed the room to hang it on the hook beside the back door.

      Jason spun his chair to face her. “Dave called today from Vancouver.”

      Jason’s best friend from high school. “How does he like the university scene?”

      “He loves living on campus and his profs are great.” Jason paused. “He says the wheelchair facilities at UBC are excellent.”

      Fiona, leafing through the mail, froze, her back to him. She and Jason had been having an ongoing “discussion” all summer over when he would start university and how. He wanted to study electrical engineering, but she didn’t think he was ready to make the adjustment from living at home to being on his own in a big city. Despite being a whiz at electronics he was young for his age and shy. She hated to think of him struggling with the pressures of university as well as those of a disabled student. And then there were the financial considerations.

      “You’ll go someday, Jase,” she assured him. “Have you read those books I got you?” She’d bought secondhand text books for first-year math, chemistry and physics, as well as a third-year lab book titled Methods in Electronics, hoping they would help slake his thirst for knowledge.

      “Yeah, they’re good,” he mumbled. “But it’s not the same as working toward a degree.”

      “You could do courses by correspondence like I am, and work for a year. University costs money, you know.”

      Never having been responsible for paying the bills, Jason was blithely ignorant of the cost of living, aside from the often expensive electronics bits and pieces she bought him. Maybe she shielded him too much but he was still so young and he’d been through a lot, losing his parents and the use of his legs at the same time.

      “What about applying for a job at the Electronics Shop here in Pemberton?” she suggested. “You know Jeff, the owner, and I could drive you to work.”

      “It’s a dead-end position and Pemberton is small potatoes compared to Vancouver.” Jason scooped the chopped lettuce into a bowl and sprinkled on the other salad ingredients. “I don’t want to get old before I start living.”

      Like her, in other words, although she knew he hadn’t consciously meant it that way.

      The pot of spiced beef bubbled on the stove, creating condensation which fogged the darkened windows and gave a homey atmosphere to the small cluttered kitchen. If only their parents hadn’t died. If only Jason hadn’t been paralyzed. If only she hadn’t had to give up her dreams of career and travel— Guilt abruptly put an end to these unproductive thoughts. She was alive and whole and she could never allow herself to forget that.

      “I saw a funny thing on the way home from work,” Fiona said to change the subject. “You know that garden gnome at the corner house? Someone propped it behind the steering wheel of that old car in the driveway. It looks as though it’s trying to escape.”

      Jason laughed and the tension was broken. As their chuckles faded, Fiona became aware of another noise—a whining from behind the closed door of the laundry room.

      “What is that?” Fiona said, rising to her feet.

      “I forgot to tell you.” Jason’s face became animated as he wheeled across to the laundry room. “Mrs. McTavish from across the road was walking by the river and she found a burlap sack. It was moving so she investigated. Inside she found—” Jason opened the door “—a puppy.”

      A skinny white pup with brown markings cowered in the doorway, his ears flattened against his head and his fearful gaze darting from Jason to Fiona. Fiona dropped to the linoleum and held out a hand. The dog approached slowly, shivering and trembling all the way from his pointed muzzle to his docked tail.

      “Poor thing,” Fiona murmured as the dog cautiously sniffed her fingers before retreating a few paces. “He’s so scared. I wonder if he was abused.”

      “He’s half-starved, too,” Jason added. “You can see every one of his ribs.”

      Fiona stayed in a crouch, waiting patiently while the dog gathered his courage to creep forward again. “He looks like a Jack Russell cross. How could anyone get rid of such a cute dog, especially in such a cruel way?”

      “Can we keep him?” Jason asked eagerly, looking exactly like the kid he claimed

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