With a glass of wine in hand, both Alec and I walked around the house, taking it all in. Room after room, memory after memory, we walked in near silence as the house embraced us back. It was almost as if I could feel its wide arms swallowing me up and repairing a part of my soul I hadn’t known was shattered. I needed this place. I needed to feel close to my childhood again, to the good in my life, and to her… my mother. This house was her. It was her in every little knick-knack that was placed on ledges and shelves. I could see my mother in the books that were chosen to lie around in nice little stacks on end tables. I could feel her in the soft fabrics of the throws and quilts she had chosen for each bed in the eight rooms that had remained vacant for so long. I had remembered how she would make sure the best sheets and the fluffiest pillows were chosen for every single bed even if no one would be sleeping in them. She wanted this house to be perfect, and it had been. It still was.

“Hungry?” Alec asked as we walked back to the main room which was just one open large space with no walls. The only thing that broke up the room was the large granite countertop that boxed in the kitchen.

“I am.” I grabbed the bottle of opened wine as Alec grabbed the plastic bag of our gas stop goodies, and we made our way to my favorite place in the entire house—the covered, wrap- around porch. Large Adirondack chairs were scattered about, all positioned to get the optimal view of the lake. There were two large rocking chairs with a small wooden table between them which was my favorite place to be. I liked the rocking back and forth while I watched the birds fly about, and the squirrels bolt up the pine trees that were all around, but never in the way of our view. A hammock hung in the corner of the porch which had always been a favorite place of Alec’s, but he didn’t go sit there, choosing to sit in the rocker next to mine as he placed the bag of food on the table.

“Nothing like beef jerky and wine,” he said as he opened the package of food while I topped off our glasses with more merlot. “A true culinary delight right there, I tell ya.”

Taking the offered piece of dry meat from Alec’s hand, I turned my head to absorb the beauty of the lake that was illuminated by the large moon. “So pretty,” I said more to myself than him.

“It’s a shame no one got to experience this place for so long.”

“I always pictured that I would grow up, get married, have kids, and have them grow up coming here all the time too,” I said, remembering one of my childhood dreams.

“That can still happen.”

“Yeah right,” I said with a huff as I sipped on my wine, not looking at Alec. “You know my life. Do you see me having normal? Ever?”

He was quiet for quite some time as if my reply had stolen the words from his body. But eventually he said softly, “You deserve normal. Hopefully that can happen someday.”

With a smirk against the lip of my glass, I asked, “Do you really feel that way?” I released a sick laugh. “I thought so for a short time. When Papa had allowed me to finally move out of the house and start a life. I thought New Orleans and Spiked Roses would be my shot at normal. That didn’t even last a night. I didn’t even get through training before my not normal life came storming back in to sweep me away into the darkness I have been living in since Mama died.” I glanced over at Alec who was staring straight ahead with sadness in his eyes. “So whether or not I deserve normal, I am most certainly never going to get it.”

“What has your father told you about everything?”

I took a bite of the jerky and chewed for several moments wondering if I should tell Alec everything I knew. I had no reason not to be completely honest and open with him, but I had grown to doubt and be leery of everyone thanks to my father. “I know about The Iron Colt Brotherhood if that is what you are asking.”

Alec turned and looked at me with wide eyes. “He told you about them? About everything?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

Alec’s eyes narrowed and his head tilted. Was he trying to read me? “What? What did he say exactly?”

“That he—and you—are part of a secret society that goes back to before the Civil War era. The only way to be part of this society is via lineage or power and the ability to buy your way in.”

Alec nodded slowly. “Did he tell you about the inner workings?”

“I know that being part of the society can help make every man’s—who is willing to pay the price—dreams to come true. The power of the men involved, the connections, the favors that can be granted. Politicians have gained their positions because of the brotherhood. Investments that have formed multi billion dollar companies from nothing originated out of the brotherhood. Even things as simple as movie parts or book deals have come from the brotherhood. If a member asks for a ‘favor’, then the favor is granted by the other members of the brotherhood. But no favors come for free. For every favor you ask, you have to put your name on a rock that goes into a large urn.”

Alec stood from his rocker, walked to the edge of the porch, and leaned against the banister of the stairs that led down to a grassy patch of land. “He told you about the rocks?”

“That every year, rocks are pulled. The names on those rocks have to participate in a ritual of some kind. A ritual that could be deadly.” I took a long swallow of my wine. “I’m assuming that since I’m here, and Papa is not, that something has happened in regards to the rocks. Was his name drawn? Is he at the ritual?”

“Did your father ever tell you about the ritual?” Alec walked back over to the rocking chair, sat down, and started munching on some more beef jerky.

“No. He was never really open with much when it came to talk about the society, but especially about the ritual. Everything I know, I’ve had to pull out of him piece by piece. I would trick him sometimes and work my way on getting more info by pretending I knew more in hopes he would confirm and so on. I preyed on his distraction. He was afraid of the society. Fearful that they would get a hold of me for some reason. Every time the society got brought up, Papa would act agitated and anxious, so I knew there was a lot of secrets I didn’t know about.”

“Members aren’t supposed to discuss the brotherhood with anyone but another member.”

“He said that.” I wanted to roll my eyes. I was so sick of the damn secrecy. “But I feel that my entire life has been affected by this society. I feel I’m owed some sort of information. Don’t you think?”

Taking a sip of his wine to wash down his food, he said, “This is a conversation to be had with Rhett. Not me.”

“But will I have that opportunity any time soon?”

Alec’s face hardened, and he froze with the glass to his lips. He glanced at me for a second and then back at the lake. There was something he wasn’t telling me. I could see it. I could feel it. The tension sizzled in the air.

“What?” I set my glass down and turned so I could face him head on. “What are you not telling me?”

No answer. He just stared ahead and chewed.

“Uncle Alec. Please. I have the right to know. I came here without giving the slightest fight. The least you could do for me is be honest and keep me in the loop. I’m not the little girl you once knew. I’m grown now.”

Alec stood again, walked down the four steps to the grassy patch of grass, and stood with his back to me in silence. After a few moments, I followed him and touched his arm which caused him to flinch. He glanced down at my hand on his upper arm and then into my eyes but didn’t say anything. I suppose he didn’t have to. I knew something was seriously wrong. It had to do with The Iron Colt Brotherhood, and I could see that Alec was bothered by what I was saying.

“Is it the ritual? Papa once slipped in frustration and accidentally used the word ‘deadly’ to describe it a few years ago. I was angry that I couldn’t go out to the movies like normal girls could with friends, and he told me it was the night of a ritual and he wanted me to stay put and safe.” I squeezed Alec’s arm that I hadn’t released yet. “What is this ritual? Is it really deadly? Is Papa part of it?”

Taking a long breath, Alec finally turned to face me. “I don’t know everything right now. I’m in the dark as well. My letter said your father would be in touch soon and to stay put. I trust him enough to know that he will keep in contact, and we’ll know what’s going on eventually. I’m not going to jump to conclusions or get worked up over something we don’t know. Making assumptions isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“But he’s scared. Or he wouldn’t have asked for you to take me to the lake house to hide. Right?”

“He’s being cautious and protective as any father would be.”

“But he’s not here with us. That has to say something. He’s in danger right?”

Alec took hold of my hand and led me back to the porch. “I don’t know, Makayla. I really don’t know. What I do know is that we can’t sit here and worry non-stop. We have to wait. You father is a very powerful and resourceful man. I know he can take care of himself and handle things. He asked that I take you here and watch over you, which I plan to do. I owe him that because of our past and our friendship.”

His hand in mine felt good. It was warm and much bigger than mine. The touch gave me a sense of comfort, and I enjoyed the bodily contact. My father was not one for affection when I was growing up, and after my mother died, he grew even more distant. A simple hug or touch didn’t exist in my world. Not with my mother dead and me pretty much locked away in our house that had become my prison. I didn’t realize how hungry I was for physical contact until Alec’s touch of my hand overpowered me with foreign sensations. I could have held his hand all night and felt a sense of loss when he pulled his away after we got back onto the porch.

“You are just like him, you know?” I said as I took my seat and poured the rest of the bottle of wine into our two glasses.

Alec shrugged. “We were friends and business partners for a long time. I knew him for years. So, I guess it’s fair to say I’m a lot like him.”

“I meant that you do exactly what he always used to do to me. Never answer my questions. You avoid just like him.”

Alec reached for the bag of pretzels and tossed them my way. “It’s late and I’m hungry. We have this fine meal ahead of us. I suggest that we stop this talk of rituals and societies and just enjoy the house.” He picked up his glass of wine and raised it for a toast. “Your mother always had the rule of no business talk on night one when we arrived. We are supposed to make a toast to the lake and the house. No talk except about family and friendships remember? We are only supposed to drink and be merry.”

Feeling as if my mother was watching through the window of the kitchen like she always loved to do, I chuckled with the memory of how she would chastise my father and Uncle Alec for doing any business talk when we first arrived.

I raised my glass, and said, “You’re right. She would be spitting mad if she knew we had been at the house this long and not have already toasted to the lake.”

With glass raised, Alec said, “Here’s to the house, to the lake, to old memories and creating new ones.” It was the same toast we’d always given word for word in the past. “And here is to finding a safe haven in this storm of ours. We will emerge better for it.” The last part was added, but felt appropriate and welcomed.

“Cheers,” I said, realizing I was toasting for the first time with wine rather than sparkling cider. “And to my mother and father who aren’t here with us.”

“Who will forever be here with us,” Alec corrected. “Cheers.” He looked back down at the jerky. “Now, let’s take in the scenery and enjoy our gourmet meal and cheap wine.”