Wrong Place, Wrong Time (Pete 'Monty' Montgomery 1)

Despite her concern, Devon’s lips twitched. “What is it you were saying about invading her privacy?”

“Okay, so I’m protective of her, too,” Lane admitted. “Who is he?”

“Frederick Pierson. As in Pierson & Company. Apparently, they’ve become friendly up at the farm.”

Lane grunted. “I hope Mom’s not out of her league. She’s not exactly the jet-set type.”

“No, she’s not.” Devon felt that twinge of worry again. “Speaking of the whens and wheres, there’s more. He’s taking her to Lake Luzerne.”

“You’re kidding.” This time Lane sounded outright stunned. “Did she say why?”

“I asked her about it. She pooh-poohed the whole thing, said it was just a coincidence. It seems a colleague of Frederick Pierson’s owns a cabin up there.”

“I don’t care if he owns a luxury camping retreat. Frederick Pierson can afford to rent a weekend cabin anywhere in the world. But Lake Luzerne? Mom sidesteps any mention of the place. I’d think she’d avoid it like the plague for her first…first…whatever this weekend is.”

Devon sighed. “Truthfully, I think she’s going back there on purpose. To prove something to herself. She’s trying to force Dad out of her system. And it’s not going to work.”

“You didn’t tell Dad about this, did you?”

“No. But I was tempted.”

“Well, don’t. If Mom wants him to know, she’ll tell him herself.”

“I’m worried about her, Lane.”

“She’s a grown woman, doc. We’re her kids, not her parents.”

“I know,” Devon conceded quietly. “But I’m not happy. Something just doesn’t feel right.”

SALLY WAS THINKING much the same thing.

The drive up had been fleetingly scenic—and painfully familiar. The late winter afternoon had been crystal perfect, right up to a brilliant sunset. The rustic cabin was lovely, with a huge stone fireplace, comfy sofas, a modern kitchen and bath, and two small, cozy bedrooms. The conversation had been pleasant. The sleeping arrangements hadn’t been questioned—at least not this first night.

But the memories were almost too excruciating to bear.

Lying quietly in bed, Sally wondered if her torn emotions were more obvious to Frederick than she realized. He’d grown progressively more quiet and pensive as the evening wore on and, following a brief after-dinner drink, had kissed her lightly on the mouth and retired to his bedroom.

Maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe it was too soon for Lake Luzerne. Maybe it would always be too soon.

She wriggled onto her side, wishing life weren’t so complicated, wishing the answers were as clear as she’d thought them to be when she was a younger, more naive woman—a woman who believed love could conquer all.

It couldn’t.

After a few hours of tossing and turning and a few more of fitful sleep, Sally climbed out of bed. She was used to rising with the roosters, and today was no exception.

The icicles hanging outside her window told her not to be fooled by the relative warmth of the heated wooden cabin. It was freezing outside. But she’d come prepared. She yanked on thermal underwear, a micro-fleece pullover, alpine ski pants, and waterproof hiking boots. Then she went out to the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee, taking her cup out onto the screened porch.

The world was quiet. Time to breathe in the cold air and think.

And to remember.

She gazed across the snow-covered mountain scene, a myriad of past winter vacations at Lake Luzerne flashing through her mind. Lane and his skiing, progressing from his first wobbly time on the beginner slope to feeling his oats, speeding down the black diamond trail. Devon and her ice skating, zipping around the pond and trying to teach a few local dogs to do the same, helping them use the pads of their paws as skates. And little Meredith, sledding down hills with her daddy, squealing all the way, then building her first snow man—also with her daddy’s help.

Pete Montgomery was the center of the kids’ universe.

And of Sally’s.

Whoever coined the expression opposites attract must have had the two of them in mind. An outdoor girl from a sheltered, home-and-hearth family, and a tough, daring Brooklyn cop who was so integrally tied to his career that it was impossible to know where the cop ended and the man began.