Carson's truck is more comfortable than I thought it would be for a long drive, especially since we don't have to stay cooped up in the truck if we don't want to. With Katrina and Jackson using the big van, there's more than enough room for everyone, and we all rotate through driving, resting, and riding shotgun in both vehicles as we take our caravan through the South.

Melissa, for her part, did great. She stayed in Carson's truck the whole drive, either with Andrea, Carson or myself to keep her company. We ended up taking three days, and both nights in the motel rooms she stayed with Carson and Andrea.

We didn't do any shopping the first day, Andrea and Jackson having gone a bit overboard on their raid of Wal-Mart the first night when they went out shopping. Andrea bought enough clothes for everyone that we didn't have to pack anything except for what we had on.

I do feel a bit strange not wearing one of my suits, all of them left behind in Paradis. After talking it over, we decided that leaving as much behind as possible would be helpful, because if one of Peter's hired guns comes to the farm, they might think that we're just out on a shopping trip or something. Isis won't be fooled, but others might be delayed at least a little while.

“Jeez, it's beautiful,” Andrea comments as she looks out on the landscape rolling by. “And you decided to live in New Orleans and work for Peter DeLaCoeur instead of staying here... why?”

“Much better beignets,” I joke, and Andrea laughs. “But seriously, when I started, I was a much different person than I am today.”

“It is very beautiful,” Melissa says quietly, also looking out. “I didn't know there were so many types of trees around here. I thought it was all, I don't know, like at the farm.”

“You’ll find plenty to keep the artist in you entertained and inspired,” I reassure her. “My property alone has over a dozen different kinds of trees on it that I've recognized, including even a few rare American chestnuts. Most of those were wiped out back in the early 1900s by disease. Have you done any woodwork, Melissa?”

“I've used some in various sculptures, but I thought of something else the other night when Andrea showed me some websites about the area. There's supposed to be a very beautiful type of stone in the area, right?”

I shrug, not knowing. “I know there are different types of stone in the area. But I’m not sure on the details. I know the trees because I harvest some of them for firewood.”

“We'll find plenty of stuff to keep you able to do whatever work you need to do and whatever you need to stay chill,” Andrea says quickly, reaching up and giving her arm a squeeze. “Hey Nathan, just how remote is this little compound of yours, anyway?”

“We turn off in about a mile here,” I say. “By the way, everyone got their jackets ready? Sometimes the place gets snow.”

“Now he tells us,” Andrea grumbles. “I've already been freezing my ass off for most of the past day. I thought we were in the South, you know, hot and muggy all year around?”

“Not the Blue Ridge Mountains in winter,” I tell her with a glance in my rearview mirror, smiling when I see her tug at the sleeves at the hooded sweatshirt she bought this morning. “Why do you think I stopped this morning and made sure everyone had warm clothes?”

“I think we could have spent another thousand dollars on it,” Andrea gripes, her eyes going wide when we come around a curve in the road and see white on the slope up ahead of us. “Is that snow?”

“Yeah. Falls from the sky, you can use it to make all sorts of things like igloos and snowmen, stuff like that,” I crack back, trying not to laugh. “Don't tell me you have never seen snow before.”

“I haven't,” Melissa says, her voice full of wonder and worry at the same time. “Will we be able to drive safely?”

I look over, nodding and patting her hand. “'Lissa, Carson's truck is four-wheel drive, off-road capable. Even the van is four-wheel drive. And that snow is probably less than an inch. It won't stop us getting up there, or getting Andrea back down to Asheville for her prenatal appointments if we're here that long.”

Melissa nods, and I glance back at Andrea. “Might as well tell them we're turning off here.”

Andrea gives me a wiseass grin and pulls out the walkie-talkie, one of a set we picked up to help us communicate between vehicles on the trip and around the compound since we've already dropped out of cell service areas. “Red Leader to Red 2, over.”

I roll my eyes, knowing that complaining about Andrea's constant misuse of military radio styles, and insisting on using call signs from Star Wars of all things, is pretty much a waste of my time. Especially since Katrina and Jackson are also in on the joke, too. “Copy, Red Leader. What's up?”

“Red 6 here says we're turning off the road just up ahead. Get ready to go off-road.”

“Copy that. You freaking out over the snow?”

“Cut the chatter, Red 2!” Andrea jokes back, earning a laugh. Even I have to smile, but Melissa doesn't get the joke.

“That wasn't very nice,” she says worriedly, looking back at Andrea. “Why'd you say that?”

“You've never seen the original Star Wars? I was making a reference,” Andrea explains.

“No,” Melissa says, shaking her head. “Science fiction never was my thing.”

“Well, maybe while we're up here we can find something you can enjoy,” Andrea says. I slow and start my turn, stopping when the simple barred gate across the road gets in the way. “Ooooh, we've got a gated property. Spiffy.”

“Just keeps the most idiotic of the hikers out,” I explain, putting the truck in park and getting out. It's secured with a combination lock that's a bit stiff, but I get a can of WD-40 from the truck and the lock pops open without a problem. I wave the caravan through with Andrea now manning the truck and Carson following behind in the van. When everyone's through I lock the gate and walk back up, tapping on Carson's window. “Take it slow, but we should be there in five minutes or so. You got the four-wheel drive on?”

“No worries, Nathan,” Carson replies, glancing up at the truck. “How's 'Lissa doing?”

“She wants to find rocks to carve,” I tell him with a smirk. “I think she will do fine, no worse than the farm at least. Come on, the sun goes down fast around here, we only have about three hours of sunlight left. Let's get up there and get as much set up as we can before that happens. How is everyone here?”

“BA's needing to get out and squirm a bit, but she's okay,” Katrina says, playing finger games with her daughter, who does look like she's more than ready to get out of her carseat. “We can hang in there for the rest of the trip. The road's smooth?”

“Yes, I believe so. I called the maintenance company I use for this place to prepare everything for us. If he did not have a problem getting up here, we should not, either.” I head back up to the truck and slide back into the driver's seat. “You know you could have driven.”

“Nah, I'm enjoying being lazy,” she says, grinning. “Save energy now for the hard work later.”

The first sight of the compound stirs some memories in my heart, of a time soon after I'd left the Army and after my mercenary days were done. When being in the green forest and cold was ideal because it was as far from the hurt in my heart as possible. My right hip aches, not in real pain but at recalling an old memory. The large scar on my skin is evidence of why I should be paranoid about Isis Bardot.

“Wow,” Andrea says quietly as we pull up. “It's... stark.”

“I will admit it could use a coat of paint,” I reply, chuckling as we get out. The outer walls are unpainted, sealed concrete, nothing else adorning the outside. “But this place could possibly take a full-on assault and remain standing. I guess that added to the appeal of the property. I was a bit paranoid back then.”

Melissa gets out and looks around, turning in a slow circle before giving me a big smile. “It's beautiful, Nathan. Top of a hill, and what's that in the distance?”

She points to the northeast, and I smile. “That's Mt. Mitchell. If you ladies will follow me, I'll give everyone the tour of the property.”

We wait for everyone to get out of the van, BA looking around in wonder like Melissa as she feels the cold on her skin before she clings to Katrina, who laughs and adjusts the baby sling. “I don't think she's ever felt this cold before.”

“Well, let's get the walk of the property finished, then we can get things unloaded, and get a fire going inside, she can warm up that way,” I say, waving. “Follow me.”

The first thing that catches everyone’s attention is the creek that flows through the side of the nearby property. Jackson kneels down and touches it, tasting his finger and giving the creek an appreciative look. “Whoa. Fresh water.”

We keep walking, Jackson finally chuckling as we finish. “This place would be great for the zombie apocalypse. You sure you're not a bit of a prepper, Nathan?”

I shrug, knowing exactly what Jackson means. “Maybe. Come, let's get things unloaded, and we can get the main fireplace started. One side effect of the construction, the rooms tend to be a bit cold.”

A bit cold turns out to be an understatement, as right off the bat we have a problem. The furnace is busted, and while we'd prepared by buying some electric space heaters for emergency purposes, they're not as helpful as we'd want. “Dammit,” Andrea grumbles as she rubs her hands together.

“Don't worry,” I reassure her, hauling in a box of food. “The fireplace has enough heat to warm more than just the main room, and we can get through. Hey, at least the beds are still in good shape.”

“Speaking of which, what type of church was this place, anyway?” she asks, grabbing a clothing bag from the back of the truck. “Nothing but twin mattresses on iron frames.”

“Methodists. What, you don’t like the fact the rooms were set up to prevent immoral activities?” I tease, and Andrea laughs.

“You got me. Then again, if we push those together, I bet Carson could think of something to do with the bedposts and the tie-down straps we used to secure all this junk.”

“TMI, Andrea,” Jackson says with a groan. “Seriously, way too much info.”

“Aww, why, oniichan? Maybe Katrina will get some ideas for you two to have fun with.”

“Not needed,” Jackson grumbles. “Having plenty of fun as it is.”

We get most of the important things unloaded and a roaring fire going before the sun goes down, where we start to make adjustments. “I do appreciate the lighting,” Jackson says, looking around. “After the heater issue, I thought we'd be going just by firelight.”

“After we split up last year, I spent some time here before doing other things, including replacing all the old lights with LEDs, and I had the maintenance crew up here putting in solar panels on the roof. If we keep the usage low, we can get by without using the generator.”

“No computers?” Katrina asks, pained, and I shake my head.

“I said keep it low. I know, we bought that satellite Internet hookup for a reason, and we are going to use it. I am just saying we need to try and limit our usage of the generator. I would prefer to limit our driving back to town, especially when we are talking about getting gas to run a generator,” I correct her gently. “It cannot run this whole place.”

“And if we get a string of cloudy days?” Carson asks, and I shrug. “No lights?”

“No lights, but we can still keep a fire going, and keep the computer up as needed. Honestly, I’m just glad we only brought the two laptops. I’ve seen your home rig, Katrina. I think we would need our own nuke plant to power that thing.”

The bit of humor breaks the tension, and I look around. “I know it is going to take a bit of adjustment. But we have a safe, secure place here, and we can fine tune tomorrow. In the meantime, I suggest we all relax, and try and get some sleep. Tomorrow, we have work to do.”

“Like what?” Katrina asks, and I give her a smile.

“Oh, I can think of a couple people who are going to love chopping down a couple of dead trees I spotted on the walk, and then splitting them into logs for the fireplace since we don't have a furnace any longer.”

* * *

I'm sitting up, making sure the fire is good to go through to morning, when I hear rustling from Melissa's bedroom. Carson and Andrea, in a nod to everyone's unspoken privacy concerns about the vigor and style of their nighttime activities, decided to sleep in the farthest room from the main hall, while everyone else is closer to the main area.

I get up from the couch and toss one more log on the fire, which should be enough to keep the main room warm through the night. I go to Melissa's door and look in, where she's sitting up, her t-shirt sticking to her skin as she gasps, her eyes wide open as she wakes from her nightmare.

“'Lissa, it's okay,” I reassure her, coming in and sitting down next to her on the bed, taking her hands. I've hugged her in the past, and I want to now, but I'm not really sure if I deserve to. When it was just to comfort a panicked young woman, that was one thing. But now, I take as much from the hugs as she does, and I don't want to take advantage of her like that. “It's okay.”

“N... Nathan?” she replies, blinking, her eyes coming back into focus. “How bad was I?”

“You’re never bad,” I tell her, giving her a heartfelt smile. “If you mean how noisy were you, you never cried out. I probably wouldn’t have heard anything if the door had been closed, but I wanted to make sure it didn’t get to that point.”

Melissa nods, then blinks. In the dim light that's filtering in from the main room I see tears form in her eyes and fall down her elegant cheeks, and she wipes at them angrily, pissed off and ashamed about her outburst. “I'm useless, Nathan. Totally useless. All my tough talk back at the farm, and my first night in your beautiful home I'm breaking down already.”

I shake my head, putting my arm around her shoulders. “You are far from useless, and you held yourself together for three days on the road. Tell me, have you even been outside the state of Louisiana before?”

She shakes her head, and wipes at her cheeks again with the heels of her hands. “I've never been outside of Orleans and Jefferson Parish before that I can remember.”

“Well, there you go. Can I tell you a little secret, if you promise not to tell the others?” I ask, smiling.

“O... okay,” she stutters, trying to pull herself together. I can feel her heartbeat in her chest through the hug, it's going faster than mine on a hard run with Andrea. She's trying to be brave, and she's tearing herself apart pretending she's better than she is. She doesn't need to, but she can't let go of her shame, which just adds to the anxiety. “What?”

“I'm originally from the Midwest, a city boy in fact,” I tell her, knowing I've never told any of the family much about my past, by my own choice. “And I had never seen anything at all like Fort Leonard Wood, where I did my initial basic training. Our drill sergeant was a holy terror. I'll be honest, quite a few of us, even me, cried themselves to sleep more than once during those first few weeks. There is nothing wrong with being anxious or crying.”

“There is when it cripples you,” Melissa insists softly. “When you worry that you're going to push away the people that are special to you because you think they're going to get exhausted about it all.”

I nod, and give her shoulders a squeeze. “I know. But you said it back on the farm, we are a family. And that means that we stick together, no matter what.”

“No matter what?” Melissa says, giving me a hopeful look.

“No matter what. Another thing they taught me in the Army. When I applied for and got accepted to the Green Berets, they sent me to Fort Bragg. But one of the big things they taught me is the truth, even if they taught me other stuff that turned out to be lies. You wanna know what that truth is?”

“Please,” Melissa says, calmer.

“People are more important than hardware. And that means you are more important, too. Now, can I ask you, before we left the farm, you seemed calm and relaxed. On the drive, too. Was there anything different about what you did then to tonight?”

She nods, and I think I can see a blush come to her cheeks. “I guess. Andrea taught me some acupressure to help relieve my anxiety, but I don’t know how much that helps.”

“Then go ahead. It can’t hurt.”

She nods, and takes a deep breath. She reaches down and takes her one hand in the other, and I see her thumb moving in one spot again and again. In any case, she sounds calmer as she answers. “Okay. Thank you, Nathan.”

“You are welcome. Goodnight, Melissa. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Nathan.”