Emma punched Wayne’s coordinates into the loran on the dash. “Let’s fly to the spot and look around first, then find a pond nearby,” she said, studying the map.

“What do you think we’ll find?”

“I haven’t a clue, Mikey. This could be a wild-goose chase, for all I know. It may simply be a spot Wayne needs to cruise for future cutting for the mill.”

“You said the paper looked old.”

“It did. That’s what made me curious, I guess.” She looked at him, but only saw her reflection in his mirrored glasses when he looked back at her. “You want to return and stack wood instead?”

He grinned. “No. It still beats working. And I’m up for a lesson from my favorite aunt any day of the week.”

“Your onlyaunt. And the best darn instructor you’ll ever hope to have. Why haven’t you taken Ben up for a ride yet?”

“I offered. He said he’s still recovering from his last plane ride.”

“What do you honestly think of him? Does he measure up to your expectations?”

Mikey scanned the horizon and checked their progress down below. “Actually he does—and then some. I like him. He’s intelligent and interesting and he’s got a sense of humor. But I think he’s a little … well, overwhelmed by … everything.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I don’t think he knows what to do with either of us.”

“But he is trying,” he told her with all the sincerity of a loyal son. “But you know what I find the neatest?”

“What?”

“There’s a lot more to him than he lets on. He supposedly got lost getting here, but I don’t believe it. I think he was stalling because he was nervous about meeting me. But then there’s this other side of him. It’s not something anyone can see; it’s more like a feeling I have. I don’t think he’s someone you want to cross paths with when he’s truly mad. You might think he’s a rolling stone, Nem, but I think he’s solid granite. And if there’s a fight to be fought, I’d want to be beside him, not opposite him.”

Emma had to agree. There was much more to Benjamin Sinclair than he let on. There was a hard side. Maybe even a lethal side.

There definitely was a controlled side.

She remembered the morning they had awoken in the forest, and the gun he had pulled at the threat of danger. The same gun he hadn’t drawn while four men beat him senseless, because he hadn’t wanted things to escalate to the point of no return.

That required a strength most men lacked.

The day Galen Simms had attacked her, she’d gotten a glimpse of Ben coming near the edge of violence. But even then, it had been a controlled deadliness.

“You may be right, Mikey. I would bet Medicine Creek Camps that we’ve only seen the civilized surface of Ben. And like you, I don’t ever want to be opposite him when that veneer comes off.”

“Then you had better marry the man, Nem. For both our sakes.”

“He told you!”

He grinned over at her. “I’m his greatest ally.”

“Well, Mr. Ally, we’re here,” Emma snapped, refusing to discuss the subject. “Bank left and let’s see what’s down there.”

Nothing was down there. Nothing but old-growth forest for miles and miles. They circled three times before Emma decided they’d have to put down and walk to the spot. She pointed out a marginal-sized pond and Mikey expertly circled the area, deciding how he wanted to land. Like the proficient natural bush pilot he was, he picked a spot and set the Cessna down with plenty of room to spare.

“Grab the GPS and Homer,” she said as she reached behind them for the packs. “I would say we’ve got about a mile to go.”

It turned out to be more like two, since they had to sidetrack around a deep gully. Using her handheld global positioning device, Emma was able to lock in the position and walk until the system said they were standing on the spot.

“There’s nothing here,” Mikey said. “Just trees.”

Emma frowned. He was right; there was nothing but forest for hundreds of acres in all directions.

“I know I copied the coordinates down right. I double-checked.” She laughed. “I dislike that man so much, I conjured up a mystery that doesn’t exist.”

“It still beats stacking wood.”

“Not really. At least we would’ve had something to show for our efforts.”

“Let’s spread out and widen the circle,” he suggested, setting Homer down and dropping his backpack beside the bird. “Maybe Wayne found the site of an old logging camp from the last century. Or a rusting Lombard. There’s supposed to be several of those old steam engines rotting away out here.”

“Maybe this was an old meeting spot for him and Kelly.” Emma dropped her pack beside Mikey’s.

The boy shook his head. “Naw, it’s too far out. They would have found a closer place.”

Emma stared at him. “I was kidding, Mikey. And how can you talk about your mother as if she … she … well, as if she were just another woman?”

He put his hands on his hips and stared back, looking defiant and angry and lost all at the same time. “She stopped being my mother the day she left.” His face sharp with anger and his chin held high, he continued. “For that matter, she never was much of a mother before she left. All my childhood memories are of you. Kelly was just a woman who lived with us.”

“That’s not true, Mikey. Your mother loved you the best she could.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. “She was just so lost inside, Michael. When Dad died, and she found herself pregnant, she never fully recovered. Being weak is not a crime, Mikey. It’s human. And you have to love her no matter her shortcomings.”

She sighed when she felt his unsteady arms wrap around her. “She was advised to put you up for adoption, but she didn’t. As much as she was capable of, Kelly loved you. She just didn’t know what to do with you once you arrived.”

“You didn’t seem to have any problem dealing with me.”

She pushed away with a scowl. “Ha. I had more problems with you than I can count. I’ve spent the last fifteen years trying to keep one step ahead of you.”

Michael let his arms fall to his sides as he looked around. “Does this place give you the creeps, Nem?” he asked softly.

Emma felt a sudden chill go down her spine at his words. She rubbed her arms and looked around. “Yes,” she whispered. “Now that you mention it.”

“I feel as though we’re being watched,” he said, stepping closer.

Emma attempted to shrug off the feeling. “It’s probably just a bobcat. You know how they like to sneak around. I’ve been stalked by them several times while out hiking.”

“That woodpile’s looking pretty good, all of a sudden. How about we head back?”

Emma mentally shook herself. This was the forest they knew and loved, not the setting of a Stephen King novel. She walked over to Homer and took him out of his cage. “Not until we give this little guy a head start for home.”

Mikey pulled a message canister from his pocket. “What do we want the note to say?”

“‘The last one home is a rotten egg’?”

Mikey smiled as he wrote. “How about ‘The last one home has to cook dinner’?”

Emma wrinkled her nose. “Or bedinner? Homer can’t cook.”

Michael stuffed the message in the canister and carefully secured it to Homer. “But he could pick up a few crickets on the way.”

Emma rolled her eyes and released the bird. “Watch him, Mikey. You could take flying lessons from that little guy,” she said as they watched the bird rise into the sky. He circled once, then twice, and landed on a branch fifty yards away.

“Well, that’s a brilliant homing pigeon,” Mikey said. “He’s just sitting there, watching us.”

“He’s young. He doesn’t know he’s suppose to hurry along yet.”

Mikey snorted. “He wants to ride back in the plane. Do you suppose the flight here messed up his internal compass?”

“Maybe he’s just enjoying his freedom,” Emma suggested, raising her hand to shade her eyes as she squinted up at the tree. “Or maybe he’s enjoying the view.”