“What?” She gave him a startled glance.

“Last time I checked, it takes two to snuggle,” he said, gently depositing her in the adjoining bathroom.

When had he last checked, she wondered, feeling a stabbing sensation in her chest. “A pillow works just as well.” And it doesn’t tell lies. Her stomach rumbled.

“Hungry?”

“A little.”

“We have plenty of food at the house, unless Lach’s gone on a feeding frenzy.”

“He still does that?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Thank you, but I’m sure there’s soup in the pantry.”

He touched his shirt, damp from carrying her. “Don’t you have anything dry to wear?”

“Just Nina’s sweater. I’ll throw my stuff in the dryer after I take a bath.”

“I’ve probably got some old sweats at the house. And you’ll need something orange. Don’t want you getting shot. Bow season’s in.”

Shay doubted she would be here long enough to get shot by a poacher. A poacher. Was that what she’d heard? Had she surprised someone looking for a place to hunt? Or had she just disturbed the owl?

“Sit down. Let me see your foot.” Cody guided her to the toilet, took her swollen ankle in his hands, and eased her shoe off. For the first time, she noticed his boots, square-toed. A ribbon of fear curled around her spine.

“You should have told me how badly you were hurt,” Cody said, breaking the spell. “I would’ve carried you back.”

Precisely the reason why she hadn’t mentioned her ankle.

“I should take you and get it X-rayed.”

“It’ll be fine in the morning.” She had always healed quickly, physically. Emotionally was a different story.

“Take a bath, then I’ll wrap it. You’ll need to stay off it for a day, at least.” He crossed to the large bathtub and turned on the water. “Want a bubble bath? You used to love that stuff.”

Shay sighed. He wasn’t going to leave until she was settled. “Check under the sink. Nina may have left some.” Shay sat quietly, watching as he dug in the cabinet, muttering to himself.

“Here we go.” He sniffed a bottle and then poured in half.

He stood, watching the bubbles rise faster than the water. “Think I put in too much?”

“A tad. Are you going to leave?” The bathroom wasn’t small, but it felt like a closet with Cody standing so close to the tub large enough for two.

“Do you need help?” He cleared his throat. “Getting in, I mean.”

“I think I’ll manage.”

A spark of mischief lit his eyes. “I don’t know. For someone so agile, you don’t do so well with water. I’d hate to call Nina and tell her you drowned in the bathtub.”

“Get out of here!” Without thinking, she swatted him playfully, as she would have in the past.

“I’ll be outside. Yell if you need anything.”

After he left, Shay removed her damp, dirty clothes and slowly lowered her body into the water. Her right arm stung. There was a long scratch at the top. Had the owl done that, or a branch? She leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the warmth seep into her bones. Her head slipped lower and lower into the water as she listened to the rain pattering at the window, the rhythmic sound reminding her of whispers and the brush of wings.

Her throat tightened as she approached the three graves. What did she hope to find? Reconciliation? Closure? To make sense of the lies? A whisper brushed her ear, a fluttering sound, and she tilted her head, listening. Skin prickling, she turned. A statue stood in the corner, an angel watching over the dead? She didn’t remember seeing it the last time she was here, but it had been years before, and her head had been blurred with pain. A soft breeze ruffled her hair and stirred the dying October leaves. Just leaves rustling, not whispers. After the last few weeks, she jumped at every sound.

She studied the names engraved on the larger headstones, then knelt before the tiny one cradled between them. Her finger traced the worn name—Dana Michelle Rodgers—under the angel’s outstretched wing, thinking she should have some sense of recognition.

After all, it was her grave.

Something flashed in her mind, a memory, a dream—fire and pain. Shay shook her head and frowned. Some guardian angel. The clouds shifted, and a shadow crossed the angel’s face, as if he didn’t appreciate her disrespect. She heard the whisper again. It came from near the statue. Was someone hiding there? What if it was him? She squinted, trying to focus, and then watched in horror as the statue turned and looked at her.

A pounding noise yanked her from the dream. Shay sat up quickly, bumping her ankle on the edge of the tub. She gasped in pain.

“Shay, you’d better answer, or I’m coming in.”

“I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

Still trembling from the dream, she grabbed the side of the tub and the built-in soap dish for support and eased up on her good foot. She was in mid crouch when the soap dish broke. She fell back into the water with a screech.

The door banged against the wall, and Cody rushed in. He stopped, sucked in a breath, and stared at her naked body, limbs askew. “Shi—”

“Get out!”

“I thought… sorry.” He turned and smashed into the door casing. “You and water,” he said, holding his forehead as he shut the door.

A blush warmed her entire body. She hadn’t laid eyes on him in nine years, and now he’d seen her naked twice in one night. She quickly dried off and put on Nina’s sweater, belting it tight. Shay pulled her wet hair into a ponytail, brushed her teeth, and then gathered her damp clothes. Blowing out a breath, she opened the door.

Cody had turned her bed down. He gave her an awkward glance. There was a red mark on his head where he hit the doorjamb. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“You screamed.”

“I did?”

“Bloody murder.”

“I must have been dreaming.”

“Sounded more like a nightmare. I found soup and some Tylenol.” He pointed to the tray next to the bed.

“I need to wash my clothes first.”

“I’ll stick them in the washer on the way out. You heal fast, but you need to get off that ankle. It’s probably sprained.”

She sighed, dropped her dirty clothes in the doorway, and crawled into bed still wrapped in Nina’s sweater.

“You’re gonna sleep in that?” he asked, one brow cocked.

She knew what he and his brothers slept in. Same thing they swam in. “I’m cold,” she said defiantly.

He shook his head and pulled the covers up. He brushed her arm, and she winced. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Let me see.” He eased the sweater aside. Shay clutched the sheet to her chest to keep from exposing a breast. “You need a bandage. I think Nina’s got a first aid kit downstairs.”

She rolled her eyes and picked up the bowl of chicken noodle soup. There was no swaying Cody when his mind was set. She’d finished most of her soup by the time he returned.

The mattress gave as he sat on the edge. He bandaged her arm first, his fingers gentle but sure. She had always loved his hands. She’d seen him snap a board in half and minutes later, splint a robin’s leg.

“I guess you have to treat a lot of field injuries in your job,” she said.

He looked startled.

“Special Forces… I imagine there are times you can’t just go to the local hospital.”

“Aye,” he said, uncovering her swollen ankle. “Good thing I got lots of practice bandaging you.” He gave her a crooked grin.

“I bandaged you more than you bandaged me. Remember when we were kids, sneaking out to save the world, signaling from our bedrooms with flashlights?” They spent half their childhoods saving the world from evil, be it fire-breathing dragons, evil monsters, or top-secret enemy spies. With Cody at her side, she had felt invincible.

“Nina would’ve had both our hides if she’d caught you bypassing the alarm, shimmying down that old oak to meet me.” His hand touched hers, his finger finding the scar on her palm that she got during one of those escapades. “What the hell happened to us, pip-squeak? I know I was irresponsible, but I tried to make it right. Why did you shut me out? Did you hate me that much?”

Shay glanced away, feeling tears prick her eyes. At one time, she had been closer to Cody than anyone in the world… before that summer, when everything fell apart. “I didn’t hate you. I was confused and angry. You lied to me.”

“Some things are more important than the truth.”

“We were best friends. We never kept secrets.”

“I’m sorry, Shay. We did what we thought was best.”

“Did you ever think what it was like for us? Losing someone who’d been there all our lives? Having you wash your hands of us and walk away?”

He dropped her hand. “For weeks after you left, your aunt begged my father to go after you, to make you come home.”

“I didn’t know. No one came after me.”

“My dad said it was your choice. You were eighteen, an adult, and we’d hurt you enough, though it wasn’t intentional. We needed to give you room to think and make your own decisions.”

She had decided to stay away, to avoid them all. Until the letters Cody hadn’t gotten.

“We can’t change the past, might as well forget it and enjoy your visit.”

“I guess that’s why I came. To see if I can forget.” Or had she come because this was where she felt safe?

“If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for Nina. Your leaving nearly killed her.” He stood. “I’m going to turn in. I haven’t slept much lately.” He looked like he hadn’t slept for a week. “Yell if you need something. I’ll be down the hall.”

“You’re staying here?”

“I’m afraid your ankle might be fractured. I’m not having you go up and down those stairs if you need something to eat or drink. You got a spare toothbrush?”

“There should be some in the guest bathroom.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re sweating.”

She was roasting, but she wasn’t certain if it was from the sweater or Cody’s hands.

“Sure you don’t want to take off the sweater?”

“I don’t have anything else to wear.”

He eased her wrapped ankle under the covers and then disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later, he returned shirtless, buttoning his jeans. He tossed his T-shirt and underwear on the bed. “They’re clean. I showered and changed after the lake.” He picked up her wet clothes. “Sleep tight,” he said, and with a shuttered look, he left.

Shay stared at the T-shirt and boxer briefs, still half-molded in his form. She slowly picked them up. A rush of heat surged from her head to her bandaged ankle. She’d worn Cody’s underwear before, when she was in a jam, but that was when they were kids, not with him all… filled out. Swallowing, she got out of bed, took off the sweater, and put on his things. They smelled like him, clean but male. Sensations she didn’t want to describe zinged through her body.

She climbed back in bed, but was too wound up to sleep, thinking about how close Cody’s T-shirt and underwear had been to his body. She needed a distraction. Renee. She would have a conniption when she found out who had just left Shay’s bedroom. Renee would douse Shay’s fire. Shay dialed from the phone by her bed, but still no answer. Where was Renee? She was prone to spontaneous trips, but it wasn’t like her to disappear when she knew Shay was coming.

Shay glanced at her watch. Nina and Matilda never went to bed before midnight. Better check in with Nina before she and Matilda showed up pounding on the door. Matilda answered the phone before it finished the first ring. “Frank Simpson, go jump in the lake, or go find that floozy, Ethel Mae. She’s probably strutting her stuff over at the Moose Lodge right now, since she got rid of those big ol’ varicose veins.”

“Matilda,” Shay shouted, but the phone went dead. She sighed and redialed.

“You oversexed pervert—”

“Aunt Matilda, it’s Shay.” Matilda wasn’t her aunt; she was Nina’s cousin, but Matilda didn’t have kids, and she liked it when Shay called her aunt.

“Shay?” Matilda’s voice dropped from deafening to almost deafening. “I thought you were Frank Simpson.”

“I’m sorry I called so late. I hope you weren’t asleep.”

“How could anyone sleep with Frank Simpson roaming the earth?”

“What’s he up to now, Aunt Matilda?” Matilda and Frank were always fighting over something.

“He’s writing a review for some old folks’ magazine. Keeps pestering me to check out some bed and breakfasts with him. Old folks? Well! You know as well as I do that I just turned fifty-nine.” Matilda had been fifty-nine since Shay finished middle school. “Says he needs a female perspective. Last year he asked Janice Childress to check out ski lodges with him. The stories I heard would’ve made a sailor blush. It wasn’t her perspective he was after. Had to get her to repeat the tale twice, just to make sure I heard right. Thought I’d have to go to confession, just from listening to it, or do penance or something. Do they still do that?”