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Noah said gruffly. “You should go and rest.”

      “Nonsense. If I can’t dry a few pans and forks, what good am I? Now enough of this dark talk. Tell me about how you found this woman and her kittens.”

      Noah put another pan into the hot soapy water. “She was rifling around in a Dumpster, ruining her evening clothes and not caring a bit. She looked—fearless,” he said thoughtfully. “As stubborn as she was frozen.”

      “Stubborn? This would be good. And fearless, you say?” Tatiana picked up another wet plate, looking thoughtful. “I like very much that she rescued five creatures who had no one else to help them.” She looked at her son.

      Noah met her gaze. “It was just an accidental meeting, Mom. We aren’t—involved. I barely know her.”

      “And yet you would like to know her, yes?”

      “Liking doesn’t change anything. She’s just visiting D.C. and I don’t have time in my life now for anything that’s serious. End of story.”

      Tatiana pulled a clean plate from his hands. “You can’t hide from feelings and attachments forever, Noah. We all lost something too precious to imagine when Matthew died.” Her eyes shimmered. “He would not want us to live in the shadows of pain and loss. That was not your brother’s way.”

      “I know. But I can’t forget and I won’t forgive.”

      Tatiana’s eyes glistened with tears. “He wants us to start.” She put her hands flat on the counter, closing her eyes. “He would want us all to look forward instead of back.” She took a long breath. “Somehow we must try. Now leave the last pan, my love. We will have some tea and the rest of the poppy-seed cake while you tell me what really happened to you today at that job you never discuss.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think I did not notice how your right shoulder hurts you or you rub your wrist? You did something brave and I think that you were hurt.”

      Noah muttered under his breath. “I slipped on an icy step, Mom. Nothing brave or serious about that. My job is usually boring.” He shrugged. “It’s not like on TV. Mostly we sit and look at computers.”

      “You are sure? You would not lie to me?” She stood very still.

      Yet again Noah thought how fragile his mother had become in the year since his brother’s death. “Of course I’m sure. I was grabbing for my pager and I didn’t watch where I was walking. I landed on my arm, looking like a fool. End of story.” He carried his mother’s tea to the table and then went back for his own.

      “I see. But next time you will be more careful, please, and watch where you walk.” She stared out at the snow, still falling hard. “And when you—look at your computers, you will also be careful. Promise me this,” she said fiercely.

      “I will be. McLeod’s honor.”

      “Good.” Tatiana squeezed Noah’s hand hard and took a deep breath. “Now finish that cake before your father comes looking for it. He always knows when there is one piece left, and I must help his willpower a little.”

      WIND WHISPERED AGAINST the windows, driving snow against the glass. The house was quiet except for the hiss and pop of the fire that was still going in the room next door.

      Tatiana McLeod was not afraid of silence or the dark. She welcomed the shadows as a friend. Only then would she see her lost son.

       Matthew?

      She stared at his old chair, empty near the window. Always empty.

      The house was quiet yet full of small sounds. The settling of walls. Sleepy breaths that sounded against the snap of the fire. Even the restless kittens were finally asleep.

      Tatiana stood in the dark kitchen, listening to all of it. This was hers, her oldest dream. This was the home that she had made by fierce effort, drawing her family around her, keeping them safe at all costs.

      Except she had not kept her youngest son safe.

      Matthew was gone, lost to the twisted fury of a man given over to hatred. He had graduated from the police academy at the top of his class and married two weeks later. His daughter, Sophie, was the light of his life and the joy of his parents. But his wife, society girl Miranda Dillon, had hated his job, hated the duty he took so seriously. Again and again she had tried to make him leave to work for her father in his huge plumbing fixtures business.

      Matthew had always sidestepped the argument. On that one subject he would not bend.

      Now his pampered widow was taking Sophie away with no concern for Matthew’s family or what it would do to the little girl.

      Tatiana clenched her fists in anger. She had to hold back her fury and the pain of her losses. She wouldn’t let her family be torn apart. She would keep them safe, even if she had to …

       Always so stubborn.

      The words were soft, almost her imagination. But three times she had heard them in the haunting months since Matthew’s death.

      “I’ve had to be stubborn.” To make a family was simple. To keep it together was the hard thing.

      A breeze touched her cheek. There might have been a glimmer of light near the stove.

       You work too hard, Mother. You always did.

      She signed, closing her eyes as a sudden warmth filled the air around her. I miss you terribly, Matthew.

       It will be better. You’ll see.

      “Will it?” Her muscles clenched with anger that followed in the wake of sadness. “Why you? Why not someone evil? Or why not take me instead? You had your whole life to live.”

      Her shoulders shook.

       Shh.

      Again she felt a current of wind on her face. Everything happens for a reason. Now I see this all so clearly.

      “Well, I don’t! I can’t understand at all—and I can’t forgive, either. Now your wife, cunning and quiet, plans to take your little daughter away, too.” Tatiana’s voice broke. “Far away, Matthew. From us and your memory.”

       She is doing what she thinks is best, Mother.

      “Really? I thought she was doing what was easiest. She wants to make Sophie forget you. I hate her.”

      As Tatiana’s fists clenched in terrible anger, she knew the mistake she had made. He was silent then. He was always silent when she said something bitter or angry. It was as if he was held in a gentler place and these darker emotions could not touch him there. So he simply slipped away.

      Tatiana closed her eyes, hunched over the table. She leaned down to touch the chair where her son had always sat—until the night he was killed. “Stay, Matthew. I won’t—that is, I’ll try to find some affection for your widow. I’ll try to understand why she is doing this cruel thing. But I won’t let her cut Sophie off from you and us. We’re in her blood, too. Miranda and I will have to come to some kind of compromise.”

      She felt a stirring of air touch her cheek. It might have been the movement of a hand passing in the darkness.

      With her eyes closed, Tatiana heard her son’s beloved voice beside her. She’s caught in darkness right now. The words were a mere whisper. She has lost me and she’s lost her hope and she’s lost the world along with it. Give her time, Mama. You are so strong … and she is not.

      The wind stirred again, like a gentle hand at her shoulder.

      And then he was gone.

      Tatiana knew in an instant, because the kitchen suddenly felt silent and cold. Now the darkness was only darkness.

      She was alone. No spirits walked to ease her sadness.

      Strong? Yes, she had always been the

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