Lauren walked the puppy around the block and returned through the alley between their house and what turned out to be Rory Gorenzi’s home. Seamus knew where they were when he and Lauren saw swirling fire inside the pink house’s chain-link fence. The fire seemed to streak through the air as two women made tethered fireballs swing and arc around each other. The young man Seamus had seen that morning at the Sultan Mountain School sat drumming. He was dressed for frigid weather, but his hands were covered only with thin fingerless gloves. The women wore winter athletic tights and jackets, and their heads were covered with hats.
Their walk had been quiet, with observations related to air temperature (frigid), the amount of ice on the streets (lots), and Seuss’s strength (considerable). A conversation for strangers. Seamus knew his daughter—and yet he didn’t. They lived in the same house, and yet their paths almost never crossed.
Elizabeth’s right, he thought. I don’t know them.
It had always seemed right for his children to have full schedules. Lauren spent many weekends and summers away at camps—soccer camp, dance camp, cheerleading camp. So did the others, all but Belle, and Belle had a nanny. They all, of course, had Fiona, too, that remarkable woman who had entered their lives like Mary Poppins the year before Janine’s death. The children all had Fiona, always.
Except at the moment.
His name’s Mouse, Belle had told Rory. He’s a stuffy.
Stuffy. How long since he’d heard that word? Belle must have learned it from Lauren. The kids were much closer to each other than they were to him. Protective of each other, as well.
Lauren gazed at the three fire-spinners. “I’d like to do that.”
Seamus thought it looked dangerous and remembered what Rory had said about getting burned. But he didn’t discourage his daughter. Hadn’t he brought the children to Sultan to embrace a different lifestyle? Though, of course, there must be a fire dancer or two in Telluride. Certainly, such troupes had performed there.
Janine would have wanted to try spinning poi, just to prove she could and that she wasn’t afraid. Everything she did was intended to illustrate her strength, her independence.
Including the damned gun.
Seamus and Lauren lingered at the fence, watching. Seamus’s mind shifted to Ki-Rin, to the character he had created—the character who was his livelihood. He could easily develop an anime character like Rory to fit into the world of Ki-Rin. Perhaps a fire goddess of some kind…Fifteen minutes later, the women finished dancing and extinguished their poi.
Rory glanced up and saw them. She walked over to the fence.
Seamus said, “Very impressive.”
“It was a good practice. Everything went right.”
“Can we hope for a glimpse of the snake?” he asked.
“Beau would be disappointed,” Rory told him, “if you got to see Lola and he didn’t.”
Of course, she was right. Understanding his kids better than he did.
She told Lauren, “I better get to bed, so I’m ready for snowboarding tomorrow.” And to Seamus, she said, “You’ll be starting avalanche school. It will be a four-day session, with classroom activities in the morning and field practice in the afternoon.”
“The kids should have it, too,” he remarked. “At least, Lauren and Beau.”
“They will. Just not on the same schedule as you.”
Watching her smile, Seamus wondered if she had some surprise up her sleeve. “I thought you would be teaching all of us,” he said.
“I will—on different days. All the instructors rotate. I’m your program coordinator.” Her breath steamed as she spoke, and Seamus thought again how pretty she was.
There was no reason for his attraction to Rory Gorenzi to feel so inappropriate. Except that this was the first extended amount of time he’d spent with his children—all of them together—since Janine’s death. He feared that the temptation to pursue Rory was just another way to avoid their company.
I need to avoid them.
He had found Janine after the accident. Forensic evidence had proved that neither he, nor anyone else, had killed her—and had established that it wasn’t suicide.
No way would it have been suicide, in any case. Janine would never have taken that way out, and she hadn’t wanted to go.
It had been an accident. A stupid accident. Because she’d decided she needed to carry a gun. Because she’d wanted to carry one. Because she’d needed to prove to the world how tough she was.
The anger simmered within him all over again, and he tried to block it out. And hoped that none of his children would mention the subject of their mother for the next three months.
“I WANT FIONA!”
Belle’s sobs were something Seamus hadn’t anticipated. Even less had he anticipated that his own daughter would not be comforted by his arms.
Lauren reached for her. “Baby Belle, it’s okay. Look. You’re upsetting Mouse. He’s going to cry, too.”
“He misses Fiona!” Belle said.
Seamus thought in amazement of the slim, sure elderly woman now kayaking in Baja. Fiona, with her long white braid and her love of poetry and opera and ballet and openness to learning about all that was new.
Seamus surrendered Belle to his oldest daughter. The four-year-old turned and gazed at him with what looked like a combination of suspicion and curiosity. He could still smell the child scent of her and marveled that it should seem foreign to him, instead of familiar.
“Mouse wants you to sleep with us,” Belle told Lauren. “Please.”
Seamus’s reaction was to forbid it, on the impulse that Belle should be taught independence. Then, as if from long ago, he remembered the fears of his other children when they were younger, back in the days when he had known them. He would have to be a monster not to want this child, with her small tear-streaked face, to feel safe and comforted.
“Is it okay?” Lauren asked hesitantly, looking at him.
He realized that she didn’t call him Dad. She didn’t call him anything. “Of course.”
Lauren smiled and told Belle, “We can’t let Mouse feel lonely. I’ll sleep in the other bed.” She nodded to the room’s second twin. “We’ll share. Okay, baby?”
“Mouse loves you,” Belle told her sister.
CHAPTER THREE
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, Rory and Lauren strapped on snowshoes over their snowboarding boots. They carried packs made by CamelBak, with water reservoirs, as well as emergency blankets, and small first-aid kits. Rory also wore an avalanche beacon and carried her shovel in her pack, though they were not going into any avalanche zone.
“This looks pretty tame,” Lauren pointed out, although she was breathing hard
