“Wow.” It was all I could think to say when Nova took her hands away from my eyes.

She came up beside me, beaming with pride. Her chest was poked out like a strutting peacock on full parade. “Not bad, huh?”

“How did you…?”

“Friends in high place, Benton. And since you’ve never witnessed the aurora borealis before, I figured we’d make it an experience you won’t soon forget,” she said, putting her arm through mine and leading me over to the yurt.

It was made for two people. Big enough to hold a platform bed, rustic-looking shelves, and a wood chest that turned out to be a cooler stocked with food and drinks. Windows were set on either side of the door facing the open expanse of the sky. Whoever had set the yurt up knew what they were doing. The location couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Is that a bear skin?” I asked, ruffling my fingers against the rough texture of the blanket covering the bed.

Nova wandered around the room lighting a few candles set in colorful jars, deep enough that if they were knocked over, the candle would go out before the flame could catch the place on fire. She looked over her shoulder and glanced at the bed. “Don’t know. Smell it.”

“Smell it?”

“I hope there are other blankets under that one,” she said, crossing the room and running her hand with briskness over the fur. “Real.”

“How do you know that? You didn’t smell it,” I said.

“Native. I know these things,” she answered, flipping back the fur and sighing with something like relief as she said, “Sheets. That’s good. The fur will keep us warm, but it’s itchy.

“So, Native Nova, what time does the light show start?” I asked, winking at her when she flicked an irritated look at me.

“Soon. There’s a box in the back of the truck; can you go get it?” she asked.

I brought it in, setting it on the small table just on the other side of the window opposite the bed. Nova walked over with a folded blanket in her arms, handed it off to me, and flipped the box lid open.

“Is that a .357?” I asked, peering over her shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s Noni’s,” she answered, stowing the gun into its holster after checking to make sure it was loaded and the safety was on.

“I guess that covers us, somewhat, for protection,” I said, wishing for a rifle instead.

Nova giggled.

“What?” I asked.

She blushed.

“Oh… Oh!” I hadn’t thought about it at all. Not even once. And me, a doctor, too. Although in my defense, my particular set of medical skills ran more toward patching a person up in the field, followed up by surgery if needed.

I’d allowed myself to be reckless with Nova, and with myself as well. I was sure all my thoughts were broadcasted on my face, because I wasn’t trying to hide the varying emotions kicking me in the gut.

She nudged me. “I’ve got us covered, Eli.” She tossed me a pair of earmuffs, not the kind used at a range, but a pair covered in the softest fur.

“Nova, that’s not—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “I have us covered on that, too.”

I almost sank to the ground in relief. “I’m glad one of us was thinking clearly. But you do know that nothing is ever one hundred percent, right?”

She smirked. “Very observant of you, Doctor, which is why I picked up these.”

The box hit my chest with a thud and landed between us. Nova hadn’t been kidding when she said she had us covered. “Well, in that case.”

I reached for her but she danced away, putting her finger up in the air between us, wagging it. “Northern lights, remember?”

I plucked the box up and stuffed it inside the pocket of my jacket. We hadn’t taken a single layer off with there being no heat in the yurt. “Are we staying here all night?” I asked, wondering if one bear skin would be enough to keep us from turning into solid blocks of ice come morning.

“That’s the plan,” she answered, turning back to the box and unloading two mugs, a Ziploc bag filled with packets of sugar, and a small can of coffee.

“I like that plan. It’s a good plan. Is there any heat involved with this plan?” I asked, walking around one side of the circle, looking for something that resembled a thermostat.

“You’re in the wrong part of the country if you can’t handle a little bit of cold,” she said, following it up with a snort.

The wind chose that moment to pick up. The windows rattled, and the door whistled along the cracks. Nova shuddered in response.

“You were saying?”

She moved along the other side of the yurt and opened a small cabinet, grabbed a key from inside it, then tossed it at me. “Generator’s outside.”

I’d broken into a sweat by the time I got the generator running. It chugged away, converting fuel into electricity and, with luck, into blissful heat inside the yurt.

The small shed it was tucked away in was insulated, but vented to allow fresh air in. When I closed and latched the door behind me, I could hear it, but once I moved closer to the yurt, the sound was no more than a distant hum carried away on the wind.

“Ready?” Nova said, handing me the quilt and then pulling the straps of a backpack over her shoulder.

She led us to an even patch of ground not too far from the yurt and set the book bag down. “We should have a really awesome view from right here.”

It was funny how fast night came on, yet it was never really possible to say, as it was happening, when the precise moment was that night came. It was as if all at once the light was gone and the stars got turned on like mini flashlights in the sky.

Alaska’s sky was unlike anything I’d ever put eyes to before. The stars… my God, the stars. There were billions of them spread out like glitter on a black canvas.

Nova pulled the bag over to her lap and dug something out of it. I had no idea what and didn’t really care because I couldn’t stop looking above our heads.

And then the magic happened.

A green ribbon twisted in the sky, followed by another and then another… and so on. They danced and swirled, leapt and waved, in the atmosphere conducted by the invisible magnetic field of the North Pole.

Forgoing cups, Nova and I drank straight from the thermos. Spiced cider bloomed against my taste buds. The rum added a kick that tricked us into feeling warm even though it stole our body heat like a thief. I didn’t care. I didn’t even care if the two of us froze to the ground and had to stay there until spring thawed us out. That was how eerily beautiful it was to sit under the northern lights and just be.

Nova sighed, her head bumping into my shoulder as her back settled against my chest. The air grew colder, but I wasn’t ready to leave such a magical spot.

“My backside is numb,” Nova said, wiggling as she sought to relieve the pressure.

“Five more minutes,” I said, lifting her up and setting her on my lap.

We stayed there until the ribbons flickered in and out, and then they were gone.

We got up equally groaning and taking turns between rubbing our backs and backsides.

“Will it be back tonight?” I asked, rolling the blanket up into a ball and hugging it against my side.

“Maybe. It lasted a long time. You got quite the show,” she said, settling the backpack on her shoulder.

Between the spiked cider and the euphoria of watching such a phenomenon, I had a hard time walking without stumbling. Nova laughed at me, and then at herself when she realized she wasn’t walking all that straight either.

By the time we made it inside the yurt, we were laughing at nothing at all. It felt good to let go and allow the moment to liberate us like we were as free as the dancing lights in the sky. There were no worries, no responsibilities. Just me and the night and the feeling of letting it all go.

Warm air rushed out, smacking us in the face when Nova opened the door. The chill of my skin prickled against it, stinging.

There was a solid sound of wood falling into place. When I turned, I found Nova shucking out of her clothes. “Door is barred. Heats on. And I’m roasting.”

“Want me to turn the heat down?”

“No, we’ll adjust to it in a few minutes,” Nova answered, blowing out the candles she’d lit earlier.

I blinked against the darkness, and then closed my eyes for a moment before opening them. It helped my vision adjust in time to see Nova crawl along the bed, giving me a glimpse of the rounded curve of her backside.

Holding Nova was like having my very own star in my hands. She burned for me. She illuminated something deep inside my soul that connected with something that didn’t have a name.

Nova’s finger traced a pattern of swirls on the center of my chest. Her head was tucked neatly into my shoulder. “Do you think anyone would miss us if we just decided to stay here for the rest of our lives?”

“More than likely, but I’m game to try and see how long we can hide out before they find us,” I said, feeling my body sink further into the mattress.

“Mmm.” Her back arched as I ran my hand up her spine, pressing lightly with the tips of my fingers.

My mission had to be the weirdest mission in the history of Cole Enterprise. Then again, I was a medic and not an agent. There were no high stakes, nor a particular bad guy keeping me on alert and ready to take action at any moment. I was glad for that. Being a super hero had never really been my thing. Helping people had, which was why I’d chosen to volunteer for the Red Cross. The rest had fallen in my lap without warning. And once it was there, I couldn’t go back. I’d been cool with it, and settled into my new life without any fuss. Leaving Nova without so much as a goodbye had bothered me. But I hadn’t had much time to think about it when Ace appeared in Haiti and Jared was kidnapped.

It was like the snowball effect. One mission blended into another and another until there was no beginning or end. I was committed to the cause. My career had engulfed me, taking up all of my time as I stuffed my brain with so much knowledge that some days I wondered if I should wrap it just to keep everything in. And then there were moments when it felt as though the information had been dumped into my head.

I trained with the med staff in Chicago most days, except for once a month when I was evaluated by Cole himself. He’d hook me up to a series of monitors and settle me into a chair that resembled one in a dentist’s office. When he was done, I had round circles on each temple, three across my forehead, one just behind my ear, and a solitary one over my heart.

I often wondered when I thought back on my training if Cole had the actual knowledge, or the capability, to integrate information into a human brain the same way it could be done with a computer.

“I wish I could take the job you came here to offer me,” Nova said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“You have the rest of your life to say yes. Cole Enterprise isn’t going anywhere,” I said, wanting to recall the words back.

“Noni’s never going to get better. I dread each time her memory slips. It scares me to think that one day it’ll just go and never come back,” she admitted.

“What will you do if that happens?” I asked.

“Cry. And then once I get that out of my system, I’ll put my big-girl panties on and do the best I can to keep her comfortable,” she answered, snuggling closer.

“Is that something you think you can handle on your own?” I asked, hoping she’d reach out for help when that time came. No one could take on that sort of responsibility on their own. In most cases, the patient was given medication to keep them calm. When it got to that point, it was only a matter of time before their bodies gave out. A blessing in disguise was the way I looked at it.

“I have to. I promised her,” Nova answered, sighing as if her heart would break.

“No one would blame you if you sought out help,” I said, feeling her jerk as if she’d been slapped.

“I would. I keep my promises. Most people don’t, or maybe they can’t, but I’m not one of them. My own mother hasn’t called Noni to see how she is. Never once has she checked to see if I’m doing okay, or to ask me if I need any help. I refuse to be that kind of person. So long as she needs me, I’ll be there for her,” she said, putting all her will into words.

“You’re a good person, Nova. Probably one of the best people I’ve had the privilege of knowing,” I said, kissing the top of her head.

She settled, melting like warm candle wax against my chest.

There would be no alternative for Nova. She’d given her word, and I needed to respect it. It didn’t matter what opportunity crossed her path so long as Noni needed her, Nova would be there for her. Everything else would either wait, or move on without her.

Knowing that hit me in the chest like the punch of a defibrillator. Only my heart hadn’t stopped. It would keep going no matter how shattered it felt.

All I could do was live in the moments that Nova shared with me, and when those moments were over, I’d find a quiet spot to pick up the pieces, hoping that one day she might come to collect them and melt them back together.

When morning came, Nova packed the small box up, and we left the yurt and the magic of the night behind us.

Instead of stopping at the house, Nova asked if we could head over to Stanley’s first. Noni must have been on her mind for the remainder of the night. And knowing Nova, like I thought I did, she’d want to check on her if only to give herself peace of mind.

We found Noni sitting at the kitchen table, purse clutched in her frail hands as if she were waiting for someone to pull in the driveway and pick her up.

“Good morning, Noni,” Nova said, bussing her on the cheek.

“Nova! You came back,” she said, releasing her purse and standing as she held her arms wide.

Nova hugged her. “I was only gone for the night.”

Noni shook her head. “Nonsense. You called me just the other day and said you were flying home. How was Haiti?”

Her eyes flickered over Nova’s shoulder and met my own. “Are you from Haiti?”

I watched Nova’s shoulders sag in disappointment as I answered, “No, but I worked there with Nova.”

“That’s nice. Nova, be a dear and tell Stanley I don’t need him to take me to the airport since you’ve found a way home,” Noni said.

The detachment was there in her eyes. When I looked close enough, I could see it—that spacey faraway look. Noni was stuck in the past, but not so far in the past to confuse her. But enough to upset Nova, and shake the already-tipsy platform under her own feet.

Noni wandered into the living room, and Nova darted off to the hallway.

I could hear her talking, so I followed her. The twin looks of utter despair on their faces as Nova and Stanley whispered to one another was heartbreaking.

When Stanley noticed me, he beckoned me to join them.

Nova’s arm came around me, face pressed into my shoulder as she said, “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.”

There was no answer that would fix the situation, or reverse it. “Nova, all you can do is play along and be patient with her.”

She nodded, stepping back to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“Before I forget to tell you, I received a phone call this morning from the insurance adjuster,” Stanley said.

“Took him long enough to get back to us,” Nova grumbled. “What did he say?”

“Well, that’s a bit tricky,” Stanley said, unable to meet Nova’s eyes.

“Meaning?” Nova’s patience was worn, and I could hear how close she was to snapping.

He hunched his shoulders before straightening them with a deep sigh. “Meaning, Noni hasn’t paid her insurance, so her coverage was dropped.”

Nova jerked in response. “There has to be some mistake. Noni always made sure her bills were paid. She never missed a payment.’

“I thought that, too, and I made him look into it again while I was on the phone. It wasn’t a mistake. The house isn’t insured. There’s more,” he said, hesitating.

Nova settled with her bag against the wall, bracing herself, and waved for him to continue.

“The insurance adjuster remembers when you had that water leak, so when he realized the lapse in policy, he called in a local contractor as a favor and asked him to go take a look at the house. He waited to call until he had a report on the extent of the damage so he could process the claim through the neighbor’s insurance as a work around to getting the house fixed.”

“And…”

“And the contractor reported that the roof, along with two of the structural walls, are rotting. Seems the original contractor who came out and fixed the water leak didn’t put the vapor barrier back up. It’s bad enough that the contractor told the insurance adjustor that the house should be knocked down, because it is beyond saving.”

Nova slid down the wall, backside hitting the floor.

Stanley lowered himself, crouching before her and taking her hands into his own. “You’re not alone in this, Nova. I’ll do whatever I can, however I can. We’ll make it work.”

“She’ll never get over this. How can we explain it? What do you think will happen to the state of her mind if the house has to be torn down?” Nova asked.

“Nova, she’s been out of sorts for a long time now. I don’t think it will matter… not in the long run, anyway,” Stanley answered, wincing at the truth of his words.

“This really sucks,” Nova said, scrubbing her hands down her face and then rising.

She put her hands out. Stanley took them, allowing her to help him up. “Teamwork, eh?”

She blew out a long breath, nodded, and then reached for me. “Can we go home now? I need some time to let all of this process. If Noni sees my face, she’ll know something is wrong.”

“Head out the back door,” Stanley said. “I’ll settle Noni in with some lunch and a movie. If anything comes up, I’ll call you.”

Whoever was banging on the door was going to get a firm piece of my mind if they woke Nova up. I crossed the living room with quick strides and jerked the door open, scowling.

“Eli!” Jared pushed past me with a suitcase in each hand and his guitar strapped to his back. “Good to see you, bro. Where can I put these?”

I pointed to the corner of the room. “Keep your voice down. Nova’s sleeping.”

“Nova? She’s here?” Jared asked, making his way back to the front door.

“Where’s Murphy?” I asked, following him.

“Keeping warm,” he said, pointing to the passenger side of the truck they’d arrived in.

She saw me and waved, eyes going wide when I stepped outside without a jacket.

“Where’d you get the truck?” I asked, going around to the tailgate.

Jared snorted, obscuring his face in a cloud of white as he pushed one of several boxes that filled the bed toward me and said, “Oliver’s bag of tricks.”

With the box in my arms, I paused beside Murphy’s window long enough to jerk my head in the direction of the house as Jared rapped his knuckles against the back window and said, “Come on, Murph, it’s colder than a polar bear’s ass out here.”

I chuckled, hearing Murphy squeak when she darted around me and blew inside the house like the artic wind.