Page 5 of 15 Summers Later

She was relieved when she didn’t see Madi’s small SUV or their grandfather’s ancient pickup truck her sister drove occasionally.

Ava would have to face her sister at some point. Not yet, though. She was far too exhausted to deal with Madi right now. After she had rested, maybe. She was tired enough to sleep for a week, though she wasn’t sure even that would be enough to ease her bone-deep fatigue.

When she climbed out of the vehicle, her bones ached and nausea roiled through her.

She swallowed it down as she spied her grandmother working in one of the gardens near the house, wearing a floppy straw hat and a pair of overalls.

Her grandmother wore earbuds, her back to Ava, humming along as she clipped back her bleeding hearts. She probably hadn’t even noticed the car pull in, Ava realized when her grandmother didn’t come to greet her.

She moved in that direction and a German shepherd mix suddenly rose from the porch and gave a single bark. Ava froze, instant panic washing over her, icy and raw. After a few seconds, she forced herself to relax. That was only Oscar. He wouldn’t hurt her.

She hoped.

The dog’s greeting must have alerted Leona to her company. Her grandmother turned around, and Ava saw the shock in her eyes before Leona dropped her pruning scissors with a shriek and rushed toward her, arms outstretched.

“Ava! Darling! What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call to tell me you were coming? Oh, my dear. It’s so wonderful to see you, even though you’re far too thin.”

Leona reached her and wrapped those arms around her tightly, and Ava wanted to sink into the comfort of her embrace.

What would her grandmother do if Ava simply rested her head on her shoulder and wept and wept and wept?

Leona seemed to sense something was wrong. She pushed Ava away from her and studied her closely, blue eyes behind her thick glasses missing nothing. Ava faced her, aware of the deep circles under her eyes, the lines of fatigue she knew must be sharply etched on her features.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

So much. Everything.

She couldn’t tell her grandmother yet. She would, but she needed time to figure out the words.

“I need somewhere to stay for a few weeks. Maybe even all summer. Would that be all right?”

Concern and alarm flashed over Leona’s wrinkled features. “You know you’re always welcome, my dear. And Cullen as well. Is he joining you?”

The sound of her husband’s name was like a stiletto to her heart and it was all she could do to remain standing.

“No,” she managed. “He won’t be joining me. Cullen is working on a dig up in the mountains near here this summer. Some fossilized bones were found on national forest land and Cullen and his team think it might be an entirely new dinosaur species.”

She tried to be casual with the words and not spill them all out in a rush. “He’s ecstatic to be leading the team. It’s a dream come true for him. You know what a dinosaur nerd he is.”

“Indeed.” Leona smiled, though that worry lingered in her gaze. “It’s a good thing he likes them. It would be odd if he didn’t, since he teaches paleontology. What a wonderful opportunity.”

“Yes. I’m thrilled for him. We’re both hoping this might help him make full professor, with tenure.”

“How exciting!”

“Yes. But he’ll be mostly out of reach for the summer and I...I didn’t want to stay by myself at our apartment in Portland. After only a few days, I couldn’t stand it, so I packed up everything and headed here. I hope that’s okay.”

She couldn’t find the words to tell her grandmother that her marriage might be as dead as those fossils.

“Oscar and I would be delighted to have you stay with us. Won’t we, Oscar?”

The dog’s tongue lolled out as he studied her. Oscar. Why hadn’t she remembered her grandmother and the dog were a package deal?

Every time she visited, she felt as if he were watching her out of eyes as sharp as Leona’s, waiting for his moment to swoop in and attack.

The dogs are growing closer. I can hear them baying from the next ridgeline. Could our scent carry that far? I have no idea, nor do I think I can ask Madi to go through the river again to try disguising our path. We have crossed it dozens of times already. Each time, more of her minuscule energy seems to burn away.

They bark again and my heart pounds so loudly, remembering sharp teeth, slavering tongues, wild eyes. Surely the dogs can hear each pulse of my blood, each ragged breath.

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