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“Okay, I can do that.”

“Great. Oh, and just a reminder about those financial forms. I included what we need for those in my email as well.”

“I’m actually working on it now.”

A cloud of dust kicked up from the fire pit, where Smoke was digging, and I picked up my pace, trying to make it to him before he made an even bigger mess. When I reached him, I hooked a hand into his collar, pulling him away.

“Thanks. I really appreciate all of this, James.” Quinn paused, and the line went quiet again. “I know it would mean a lot to Johnny, too. He really cared about this project.”

I sat on the arm of one of the Adirondack chairs and my hand dropped into my lap, my eyes finding the trees again. “I know he did.”

It was after Johnny started the project that I realized for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t waking up in the middle of the night worried about him. He’d been so proud when he got the placement with CAS that he’d shown up in San Francisco the next day. Thinking about it now, I realized that was his last visit.

I didn’t know if I’d ever seen him like that. At least, not since we were kids. It had been like watching a feather finally land, after floating a great distance. He’d found a purpose in the project. A sense of meaning. I even remembered feeling almost envious of him. Like Johnny had something that made him feel alive and connected to the world when I hadn’t felt that in a long time.

“Well,” Quinn said, “pleasedon’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything at all. I’m here, James. And my offer to come up still stands.”

“Thanks, Quinn,” I said, guiltily.

He was doing a poor job of hiding the fact that he’d hoped I would ask him to come, and I knew why. He wanted to connect with me in a deeper way than the periodic dinner dates and occasional nights I spent at his place. Quinn wanted tobethere for me. But I didn’t know how to let him do that.

He hung up and I stood, stuffing the phone into the pocket of my sweatpants. Smoke’s muzzle was powdered white with ash, and Igroaned, doing my best to dust him off. He was still tugging against my grip on his collar, trying to reach the fire pit again.

“Come on.”

I whistled and his ears perked up before he loped past me, his long legs beating me to the cabin. I threw a glance at the Walkers’ place, visible through the trees, and I was relieved when I didn’t see Rhett’s truck in the drive. I’d be lucky if I managed to dodge him the rest of the time I was here.

I followed Smoke up the steps, brushing the ash from my hands, but I jolted when a shadow of movement slid across the kitchen floor inside. I reached out to steady myself on the window frame as a figure came around the corner of the hallway, nearly toppling down the steps. When I had my balance, I looked up.

For a moment, I thought it was Johnny. Not the version of him I’d last seen, but the one I’d lived with in this very house. The tall, lanky teenager with a dark mop of hair and wide, brawny shoulders. My chest deflated, my face flashing hot as my vision swayed, and it took several seconds for my eyes to process the details enough to convince me that it wasn’t him.

Standing across the kitchen, his hands lifted and eyes wide, was Ben Cross, Sadie’s son.

“S-sorry!” he stammered. “The front door was open.”

I let out a breath, pressing a hand to my ribs.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, apologetically.

I shook my head, a little embarrassed. “It’s okay.”

Smoke nosed Ben’s hand until Ben reached down, scratching behind his ear. But he was still watching me with an expression I recognized. Guilt, or nerves maybe. It was almost as if he’d been caught. But when I looked around the room, glancing at the open front door, nothing looked amiss.

“My mom asked me to bring these over.”

He motioned to a basket sitting beside the stove. It looked like a care package.

“That’s really nice of you guys,” I managed. “Thanks.”

He shrugged, an awkward movement that told me the gesture had had little to do with him. His eyes moved around the cabin curiously, his hand still stroking down the back of Smoke’s neck. I couldn’t help but study the details of his face again, searching for some irrefutable trace of my brother. I couldn’t tell which of the similarities were just teenage boy and which could be evidence that this was Johnny’s son.

Ben’s eyes drifted to the living room, and I watched as he studied the details of the place. Even if it hadn’t changed much since I was a kid, there was something distinctly Johnny about it now.

“He wasn’t much of a decorator,” I said, trying to fill the silence. “But you probably know that, I guess.”

“No,” Ben said, flatly. His tone wasn’t so much impolite as it was uncomfortable. “I didn’t really know him.”

That seemed strange, given the amount of time Johnny likely spent at the diner and the fact that Sadie and Johnny had been either friends or in a start-stop relationship for years. It also sounded like Johnny had worked at the school pretty regularly.