He was returning to the lodge when he spotted a car in the gravel parking lot, something unfamiliar. A red Nissan Pathfinder.
Darek slowed, pushed away the strangest twinge in his chest, and entered the lodge through the deck.
There she stood, leaning over the granite counter, a crayon in hand, helping Tiger fill in the red stripes of his flag. She wore a lemon-yellow sundress, a pair of beaded sandals, and her hair was gathered into a messy ponytail. Flag earrings dangled from her ears.
Ivy looked up at him and smiled, a sweetness in her beautiful eyes.
Right then, everything stopped. His breathing, his heartbeat. His words.
This was it. Everything he wanted, right here. A fresh start with a woman who didn’t know him, didn’t know his past.
His last, and best, chance.
Darek had no idea what kind of paradise he had here.
The Christiansen family owned the most gorgeous swath of two hundred acres in northern Minnesota. The resort sat on the shore of a glorious lake, and a woodchip path edged by rocks wound through the property, connecting twelve log-sided cabins, all with freshly painted red or green doors, a spray of impatiens in the window and deck boxes. They all faced the view, Adirondack chairs on the decks perfect for reading a book or listening to the loons at night.
A lodge house featured a giant stone patio with a built-in grill and picnic tables under a pavilion, and beyond that, a trail led down to a point where a campfire ring suggested long conversations while sparks flickered into the night.
“It’s beautiful, Darek,” Ivy said as she walked with him. He’d given her a tour, pointing out places where he’d played as a child, trees he’d climbed, the rope swing. She pictured him as a teenager, swinging out over the water.
What might it be like to grow up in one place, to see your history every time you stepped outside?
Tiger would have that. He ran ahead of them on the path, chasing a yellow Lab.
“What’s the dog’s name?”
“Butter. Actually it’s Butterscotch. My father got the dog for my mother after she lost a baby.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, it was after Amelia, a surprise pregnancy. Of course, a dog’s no substitute for a child, but Butter seemed to try. She followed my mom everywhere. She’s about fourteen, and we live in fear that she’s not long for this world.”
The dog ran up to them, holding a slimy ball in her teeth. Darek pried it out but only tossed it down the trail. Butterscotch waddled after it.
“This is an amazing place to grow up.”
“That’s the bulk of our business—return guests who spent their childhoods here and want to share it with their children. Too bad the kids aren’t interested in their parents’ legacy.”
She looked up, troubled by his words. “Why not?”
“They want the conveniences, the excitement of life plugged in. They don’t yet realize what they’re missing.”
“Which is?”
He smiled at her. “Evergreen Resort, of course.”
She laughed, and when Butterscotch returned, Ivy bent down and rubbed the dog behind the ear.
“Oh, she likes you.”
“No. All dogs like this. You just have to know where to rub.”
“Dogs, kids. You have hidden talents.”
“You learn to adapt when you live out of a suitcase,” she said, letting the dog go.
He frowned as they came up to the patio.
His father, John, manned the grill, flipping burgers and brats. Definitely the patriarch of the family, he was a tall man with broad shoulders under a brown plaid shirt, rolled up to the elbows, a baseball cap over his shaved head. John had the kind of smile that would have made a little girl want to call him Daddy.
Ingrid, Darek’s mother, directed traffic. She wore a green sleeveless blouse, a pair of black jean capris, her blonde hair held back by a headband, like some sort of fifties housewife.
Ivy’s mother had looked ancient and worn from the day she gave birth to her, it seemed. Her last memory of the woman had been at the foster care offices, relief drawn into her mother’s face as she said good-bye.
Grace, the blonde daughter from Pierre’s Pizza, stirred the potato salad, wearing a white chef’s apron. Amelia, Darek’s youngest sister, snapped photos of the activity, capturing the image of Tiger jumping off the deck railing into Darek’s arms.
“Careful, pal. I might not have seen you. What if I didn’t catch you?” he said, swinging the boy up on his shoulders.
“Daddy, you’ll always catch me!” Tiger raised his arms high, towering over them.
Casper, who’d ridden in on his motorcycle, looked no more tame tonight than when she’d seen him at the hospital. He came over and gave the kid a high, high five. Tiger laughed.