“This looks like a fun place to stay.” Emma dropped onto one of the couches, bouncing up and down.

“It’s not large, but it could work for you until you find something more permanent.” Sheryl stood in the middle of the cabin, holding her son Nathaniel in her arms, frowning as she looked around the space.

After finding out about Nik’s plans for the house, his plans for his trip, Claire needed to get away from the house. She called her father, who told her he would take care of everything. Claire dropped Emma off at Tess’s place and within half an hour trucks were at the house. Jace, Matthew and her father helped her pack and load up. No questions were asked so Claire suspected her mother had told her father about her concerns.

Her father had called Allen Andrews about potential places for Claire to stay. There was nothing in town. Motels were all full. But Allen was Mark Andrews' brother and Mark was partners with Nate Krickson, who said he had a solution.

And through Sweet Creek's convoluted grapevine, Claire and Emma ended up in a cabin tucked in the trees behind Nate and Elise Krickson’s home; on a ranch twenty miles from town.

“I truly appreciate you letting us stay here,” Claire said.

“Thank Nate and Elise,” Sheryl replied. “This place is on their ranch.”

“I certainly will," Claire said.

“I hope you’re okay here,” Sheryl said. “I know it’s not as big as the house you were staying in."

“It’s perfect,” Claire assured her, thankful that no one, not even her father, had quizzed her about her sudden move.

The cabin had one bedroom with a queen-sized bed. The main living area held two couches flanking a small wood stove, a table with four chairs and a counter with a sink, stove and refrigerator. It was cozy and under any other circumstances Claire would have loved staying there. But her heart ached, and her mind was a whirl of questions and thoughts she couldn't stop.

“We’ve fixed it up since I used to live here,” Sheryl said, smiling as she fussed with the cloth on the table. “It’s nice to have a place for company to stay.”

“You used to live here?” Emma asked, leaning her elbows on the back of the couch. “I thought you were married to Mr. Mark and lived on his ranch.”

“I am now, but before that, I lived here. I grew up on this ranch and when I was little, sometimes I would stay here overnight.”

Emma heaved out a big sigh. “This is a fun place, but I wish we could stay at our house.”

Claire didn’t bother to correct her. “I do too, but like I told you. Mr. Nik wants to do something to the house and we’ll be in the way.” It was the best explanation Claire could give under the circumstances. Some day she would have to explain Nik’s absence but until she could do it without crying, she would wait.

“We’re far away from school,” Emma said.

“I know it’s not close to town,” Sheryl put in. “But the roads are good. Mostly it’s only a half an hour drive. But that depends on who is driving.”

“That’s close enough.” Claire forced another smile as she looked back at Sheryl. The location wasn’t ideal, but it was a place to stay. And for that she was thankful.

Plus, it was also a half an hour drive away from Nik.

“Okay. I guess we can stay here,” Emma said, hopping up from the couch. "Does Marla live next door?"

"Actually, she does," Sheryl said sounding surprised. "How do you know her?"

"We play on the same baseball team," Emma said trying out the other couch.

“Then you girls can practice together," Sheryl said.

"I was practicing yesterday with Nik. But he's gone now," Emma said. "And my mom is not happy."

Claire made no eye contact with Sheryl, not sure she wanted to delve into anything connected to Nik. Her emotions were too shaky.

"Well that's good, then you and Marla can help each other." Sheryl gave Nathaniel another hitch, settling him higher on her hip.

The door behind them opened, and Sheryl's husband, Mark, brought in two more boxes. Sheryl's step-brother, Nate, was right behind him carrying another.

"Where should we put these?" Mark asked looking around the cabin.

Déjà vu all over again, Claire thought. Wasn't that long ago she was moving these very boxes holding the same possessions from the apartment into the house she had hoped would be hers.

She forced her tired and aching head to answer. "Just set them by the couch," she said waving toward where Emma sat.

They nodded, and he and Mark set the boxes on top of the ones already there. She had tried to decide which of the boxes stored in the old Blatchford home should come here and which would join the rest of her belongings still in storage.

Stuff she had hoped to move into the house.

She had to stop thinking about it. She had to stop thinking about Nik. Time to look ahead, not behind.

"Are you sure you don't want a hand unpacking boxes?" Sheryl asked. "Elise and I can help you."

Claire shook her head. "Thanks for the offer, but I would just as soon do it on my own. That way I know where everything is.”

Besides, she wasn't sure how much to unpack. She wasn't sure how long she would stay there.

"If you need to use your phone, just come to the house," Nate said. "Our cell reception can be spotty. We have a landline at the house."

"I appreciate that," Claire said, forcing another smile. She could make all her necessary phone calls from the cafe.

“You’re sure you don’t need help?” Sheryl asked again.

Mark slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“I think Claire and Emma could use some time alone,” he said.

“Of course. It’s been a busy afternoon and night.”

Sheryl gave her a gentle smile, then with the waggle of her fingers at Emma, Sheryl, Mark, and Nate left the cabin. Mooch was tied up outside, but he was quiet.

They were finally on their own.

And Claire was exhausted. The past few hours had been a blur of instructions, directions and decisions. And sorrow. Too much sorrow.

She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, pull the covers over her head and feel sorry for herself. And cry.

She shook that off. After Lance, she promised herself she would never cry over a man again. She had come close to breaking that promise several times today.

“Hey, sweetheart, I think it’s time for bed for you.”

“I’m not that tired,” Emma said. “I think we should phone Nik. I want to know why he wasn’t home.”

“We’re not calling Nik.” The comment came out harsher than she intended. Thankfully, Emma’s only response was a yawn. Definitely bed time.

“C’mon, missy. It’s been a long, tiring day.”

Claire had packed their toiletries and necessities in a couple of suitcases so that was all handy. The bathroom was small, but adequate and moments later, Emma was tucked into the bed.

“Are you coming to bed, too?” Emma asked.

“I need to unpack a few things yet.”

“It’s really quiet here.” Emma folded her hands on her chest, her eyes wide. “Will the cougars and coyotes howl tonight?”

“I don’t know if cougars howl, but we might hear some coyotes.”

“They won’t come into the yard will they?”

“We have Mooch tied up outside. He’ll bark if they get close and scare them away.”

Emma blinked, digesting this information. Claire didn’t blame her for being concerned. It was quiet at the Krickson ranch. Quieter than living on her parents' acreage. There, one could still hear the mournful echo of the train horn sounding through the valley.

Claire said prayers with Emma and her heart only jumped a little when her daughter asked God to bless Nik and take care of him wherever he was.

She closed the door to the bedroom, trudged over to the couch and dropped onto it with a heavy sigh. She rested her head against the back of the couch, her mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions.

Now that she was by herself, it was harder to fight back the tears.

Why had Nik done that in such a terrible manner? Why hadn’t he told her about his plans before she got involved with him?

That was probably why he’d left town. He didn’t want to face her.

She dragged her hands over her face, massaging her temples, hoping to ease her headache.

“Now what am I supposed to do, Lord?” she whispered, wondering if God was paying attention.

How could things have changed so badly so quickly?

She toed her running shoes off her tingling feet letting them fall onto the floor with a clunk, swung her legs up on the couch and laid back.

As she stared up at the ceiling, the tears she promised she would not shed welled up and slid into her hair. She pressed her fingers against her lips, holding back a sudden sob.

And as she lay there she released scattered prayers, not sure what to ask for.

The only thing she knew for sure was that she had Emma to take care of and a café to run. And if she didn’t get some sleep, she couldn’t do either properly.

She got ready for bed, and crawled in with her daughter, pulling her close.

“How long are we staying here?” Emma whispered as they snuggled.

“Until we find a proper place to stay,” Claire said.

“Like the house once Nik has it fixed up.”

Claire stroked her daughter’s head, threading her fingers through her hair. She wasn’t sure what to say. If she told Emma the truth right then, she would be upset and not settle down at all.

“You don’t have to worry about the house,” was all Claire could manage. “We’ll be just fine.”

Thankfully her daughter trusted her, gave another yawn, and Claire felt Emma’s body grow heavier before her breaths came in slow and deep.

Claire thought she would lay awake, worrying. But exhaustion wrapped its fingers around her and drew her down into blessed sleep as well.

* * *

She wasn't here.

The house was empty; all the boxes were gone and all their clothes were packed up.

Nik stood inside the echoing house, his hands on his hips as he looked around trying to figure out what had happened. He had just tried to text Claire, but nothing came back.

He called Cory, but she couldn’t help at all. She didn’t know where Claire had gone or why.

He thought to call Tess, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to face her. Not after the warning she gave him.

Nik went upstairs, even though he knew it was pointless. He thought they might have left something behind, some clue as to what had happened. A note.

But all the rooms were empty. If it wasn’t for the faint smell of supper from yesterday, and remnants of Claire’s perfume in the bathroom, it would seem no one had lived there for years.

Where had she gone, and why hadn’t she said anything to him? No text message. No note. Nothing. He trudged downstairs and dropped onto the couch, glaring around the empty room. Two days ago, when he left for Calgary he had been happier than he had been for years. He had plans — long-term plans — and hope.

And woven through all those plans was Claire and her delightful daughter.

He had been so excited to come back, to talk to her about the house, and the vision he had for it. But how could he talk when she wasn’t answering his calls and hadn’t even had the courtesy to tell him she was leaving.

You’ve been a fool. You’ve been taken. You’ve been abandoned again.

The harsh words slammed through his brain, pushing at his dreams and hopes. He didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was right in front of him. He’d be a bigger fool if he didn’t pay attention to that.

Yanking his phone out of his pocket, he tried one more time to call Claire. And this one was sent straight to voicemail too. Clearly she was avoiding him.

He pushed himself off the couch, tired of inaction. He strode out of the house through the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. Once inside his truck, he reversed, then and headed down the street. He drove past the café with the slim hope it might still be open, that either Tess or Claire might still be there.

To his surprise, a faint light glowed through the window. He parked his truck, got out and walked to the door, cupping his hands around his eyes and peering inside. A shadow moved across a wall. Someone was inside.

Was it Claire?

Without stopping to think, he hammered on the door. The shadow grew larger, and then a woman walked towards him.

Tess.

She flung a towel over her shoulder, unlocked the door and let him in.

But the set of her jaw, and her narrowed eyes weren't encouraging.

“I’m looking for Claire. Do you know where she is?”

Tess folded her arms over her chest, tilting her head to one side as if studying him like he was some kind of creature that had just crawled out from under a rock.

“She asked me not to say anything to you.”

“Did she tell you why? Did she tell you what was going on?”

“The only thing she said was that you lied to her. So right about now I am not telling you anything about my sister or my niece.”

Her defensive posture and the belligerence in her voice revealed that he wouldn’t get anywhere with her either.

The turmoil and frustration he felt morphed into anger.

“What did she say I lied to her about?”

“That’s all she told me.”

Nik clenched his hands at his sides. His anger shifted, swirling into confusion edged with fear.

“And you won’t tell me where she is.”

Tess shook her head and Nik knew he would get nothing more out of her.

“I care about her,” he said. As soon as he spoke the words, he regretted letting them come out. He hated appearing vulnerable; appearing weak. But he couldn’t stop himself where Claire was concerned. He’d planned on shifting his whole life around for her, and she didn’t have the decency to tell him where she was or why she’d left. And why would she leave a house she was so attached to?

“I think she cared about you as well.” Tess spoke the words with a grudging tone, as if she regretted telling him that much.

Nik caught the past tense of the word she used. Cared.

He gave Claire’s sister a curt nod, then strode out of the café.

He got into his truck and drove back to the house. Once inside his trailer, he sat in his easy chair and looked at his surroundings. This was supposed to only be temporary. And the last few weeks he’d dared to dream about living in another place,

With Claire and Emma.

He picked up his phone again and dialed Chance’s number. He answered on the first ring.

“So, was Claire surprised at what you told her?” Chance asked.

“She’s not here.”

“Seriously? What happened? I thought you told her about your plans.”

“I have no idea what happened.” Nik massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to corral his runaway thoughts. “When I left here I thought everything was good between us. I come back, and she’s gone. And I don't know where she is.”

“That sucks. You sure you didn’t tell her something she could have taken the wrong way?”

Nik’s mind went back over his last few conversations with Claire. He thought of the last kiss they shared before he left. How he held her close, and she had wrapped her arms around him. It was like they were one person, moving in the same direction.

And now?

Another woman, leaving you in the dust. Leaving you behind. Abandoning you again.

“You’d think I would be used to this,” Nik said.

“So what are you going to do now?” Chance asked.

Nik heaved out a heavy sigh. “I’m not sure.”

“So do you still want me to come down there? Help you out?”

“I don’t know if I’m doing the work I arranged.”

When he left Sweet Creek, he was full of ideas. When he talked about buying this house, with Alan Andrews, the real estate agent told him about a parcel of land on the edge of town that was for sale. The owner lived in Calgary, an elderly man, who just wanted a fair price for it. Nik had gone to talk to him, making plans for a potential subdivision. He had convinced Chance to come in with him, start a new construction company. There was work in town, and he could set up a business here.

“It was a good plan,” Chance said. He sounded disappointed, and Nik felt bad that he had raised his hopes, only to dash them.

Chance had been trying for several years to find something that would give him some independence from his father-in-law. Nik thought this was the perfect opportunity.

“I’m so sorry about this, buddy,” Nik said. “I hope you didn’t burn any bridges with your father-in-law.”

“If I did, those are bridges I should have burned years ago. I’m a free agent now and it feels good. So even if you’re not following through on your original plan, I’d still like to come and help you out.”

“That would be great.”

“We could still make some short-term schedule,” Chance said. “Maybe find a way to make enough money to take that vacation we talked about.”

Nik was silent a moment.

“You hesitating? Seriously? You were ragging on me so bad about ducking out on you and now you’re the one who wants to bail?” Behind the chiding words Nik heard his friends’ teasing tone.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t hold as much appeal as it used to.”

“Because of Claire?”

“I told you she’s not in the picture.”

“But she still has an effect, right?”

Nik wanted to refute that idea but was stuck. Every time he drove past Coffee Creek his heart flipped over. So he found detours and other ways to get through town. Every time he saw a woman with brown hair glinting with gold highlights, his breath shifted.

Yeah. She still had an effect.

“You sounded pretty stoked about this girl," Chance continued. "I haven't heard you this happy for a long time.”

“It was the happiest I’d been in a long time.” Nik stopped there. He was falling into the futility of self-pity.

“Anyway, I’m sorry about this,” Nik said. “I thought I could make a go of all of this. Really thought I could make this place a home. Set something up for both of us.”

“Maybe you just need to talk to her, man.”

“I would if I could get a hold of her, but I can’t. So I guess that tells me enough right there.” Nik scratched his forehead, not sure what his next step was. “I’ll have to figure out a way to get rid of this house. It needs work, so maybe I’ll do that before I go.” Part of him wanted to just get up and walk away. But he needed to get as much money out of his house as he could.

If he kept himself busy, he didn’t think it would be too hard to avoid Claire. He could spend a bit of time with his mother and his sister, get the work done on the house, and in a few weeks be on his way. Money in his pocket, and nothing ahead of him but sun and sand…

And what else?

“So you don’t need to come out, I guess was what I was trying to say.”

“I’ll come anyway. There's nothing for me here. But in the meantime, you know I’ll be praying for you.”

“Appreciate that, man. That means a lot.”

“You can pray for yourself too,” Chance said.

“I might do that.” His foster mother always told him to take everything that worried or concerned him to God in prayer. He had a lot of worries and concerns. It would be a busy night.

He said goodbye to his friend and set the phone aside. He walked into the bedroom of the trailer, dropping onto the bed. Pulling open the drawer of the bedside table, he drew out the Bible his foster mother gave him when he first came into her house.

He stretched out on the bed, the Bible in his hand. Paging through it, not sure what he was looking for, he hoped he would find something to give him some comfort and strength. Hoping what he found could help him ease the anger that had ruled his life so long.

Anger he wanted to be done with.