Page 95 of Dream Lake

But he couldn’t help remembering a line in that grief-stricken letter Emma had typed so long ago… something about her prayers being trapped like bobwhites beneath the snow. The ground-roosting birds, sleeping in a tight circle in winter, welcomed the falling snow that covered them with a layer of insulation. But sometimes the snow iced over, trapping them in a hard shell that they couldn’t escape from. And they starved and suffocated and froze to death. Unseen, unheard.

There were times he had felt like Zoë was breaking through the layers of protection. She had given him some of the few moments of happiness he’d ever known in his life. But he would never be able to inhabit the feeling fully because of the unshakable conviction that it wouldn’t last. And that meant Zoë was a danger to him. She was a weakness he couldn’t afford.

He was different from his brothers, who were both more easygoing, more comfortable with giving and receiving affection. From what he remembered of their sister Vickie, she had been like that, too. But none of them had still been living at home when their parents had sunk to the worst of their alcoholism. None of them had been neglected for days or weeks at a time in a silent house. None of them had been given cups of booze to keep them quiet on weekends.

Despite his own issues, Alex couldn’t find it in himself to begrudge Sam’s newfound happiness. Sam had gotten back together with Lucy. He had told Alex that the relationship was serious, and he was going to marry Lucy someday. Their plan was that Lucy would accept the year-long art grant in New York, and she and Sam would maintain a long-distance relationship until she came back to Friday Harbor.

“So it’ll be convenient to have you move in at Rainshadow Road,” Sam told Alex. “I’m going to go to New York at least once a month to visit Lucy, while you keep an eye on things for me.”

“Anything to get rid of you,” Alex said, unable to hold back a smile as Sam gave him a jubilant high five. “Jeez. A little too happy. Can you bring it down a notch? Just so I can stand being in the same room with you?”

“I’ll try.” Sam poured some wine for himself and looked askance at Alex. “Want a glass?”

Alex shook his head. “I’m not drinking anymore.”

Sam gave him a brief, arrested glance. “That’s good.” He began to set aside his wine, but Alex gestured for him to keep it.

“Go ahead, I’m fine.”

Sam took a sip of wine. “What made you decide to stop?”

“I was getting too near the invisible line.”

Sam seemed to understand what he meant. “I’m glad,” he said sincerely. “You look better. Healthier.” A deliberate pause. “Looks like going out with Zoë Hoffman has its benefits.”

Alex frowned. “Who told you that?”

Sam grinned. “This is Friday Harbor, Alex. A supportive close-knit community where we all live to know the sordid personal details of each other’s lives. It would be easier to list whohasn’ttold me. You’ve been seen out with Zoë about a hundred times, you’ve been remodeling her cottage, your truck has been parked in her driveway overnight… I hope you didn’t think any of this was a secret.”

“No, but I didn’t figure on everyone being so damn interested in my private life.”

“Of course they are. It’s no fun to gossip about something that’s not private. So about you and Zoë—”

“I’m not talking about it,” Alex informed him. “Don’t ask me how the relationship is going, or where it’s headed.”

“I don’t care about that stuff. All I want to know is how hot the sex is.”

“Mind-blowing,” Alex said. “Orgasms on a cellular level.”

“Damn,” Sam said, looking impressed.

“All the more amazing in light of the fact that there’s usually an old lady in the house, and a cat howling outside the door.”

Sam laughed quietly. “Well, you’ll have a chance at some time alone with Zoë next week. I’m going to New York for a few days to help Lucy settle into her new apartment. So if you’ve moved your stuff here by then…”

“It’ll take me half a day at most,” Alex said. Hearing a text message alert from his phone, he pulled it from his back pocket. It was from his real estate broker, who had recently been approached with a potential offer for Alex’s Dream Lake parcel. Although Alex had said he wasn’t interested in selling—he wanted to develop the land himself—the Realtor had insisted that this offer was worth considering. The buyer, Jason Black, was a video game designer for Inari Enterprises. He was looking for a place to build some kind of a learning community retreat. The project would be huge, with several buildings and facilities. Whoever built it would make good money. “And here’s the interesting part,” the Realtor had told Alex. “Black wants it all built LEED certified, with all the latest environmental and energy-saving requirements. And when I told his broker that you were accredited and you’d had experience building green-certified homes… well, now they’re interested in talking to you. There’s a chance you could sell the property with the stipulation that you’d be hired as the builder.”

“I like working on my own,” Alex had said. “I don’t want to sell. And the idea of having to answer to a video game geek—how do I know he’s not a flake?”

“Just meet with him,” the Realtor had pleaded. “We’re not just talking good money, Alex. We’re talkingsickmoney.”

Glancing at his brother, it occurred to Alex that Sam might be familiar with the game company. “Hey, do you know anything about Inari Enterprises?”

“Inari? They just came out with Skyrebels.”

“What’s that?”

“What rock have you been living under? Skyrebels is the fourth installment in the Dragon Spell Chronicles.”

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