Bitterroot Lake

Finished, she turned off the light before opening the door, and was surprised to see a soft light glowing in the tiny windows of the kitchen doors. She hadn’t noticed it a few minutes ago. She picked her way around the furniture and across the room, then pushed open one swinging door.

In the light coming from over the stove, she saw Holly sitting at the table, long legs outstretched, one hand resting on the Formica table next to a half-empty glass of red wine. The other hand cradled the cat, who raised her head, spotted the newcomer, and lowered it.

“At least one of us can sleep,” Sarah said, nodding at the cat. She gestured to the wine. “Leave any for me?” Her stomach growled. Janine’s mac and cheese dinner had smelled great, but Sarah had only taken a few bites, pushing it around on her plate.

She poured a glass and found the leftover pasta in the fridge. Scooped a mound onto an ironstone plate—this one bore the familiar green and gray mountain scene, with the Rocky Mountain goat silhouette—and sat across from her sister.

“Oh, give me that.” Holly snatched the plate and stuck it in the microwave. The motor whirred and Sarah took a long sip of the cab, letting the jammy red wine roll over her tongue and slide down the back of her throat.

Beep. Holly popped open the oven, made a “yeow—hot!” noise, and set the plate in front of her. “Just because you look like death warmed over doesn’t mean you can’t warm up your dinner.”

“Do I look that bad? And thanks. For the nuke job, I mean. Is it safe? Those are old dishes.”

“Oh, who cares? It’s one dinner. As long as it doesn’t set the house on fire, you’ll be fine. And to answer your question, yes. You look that bad.” Holly gathered her gray plaid wool robe around her and sat. “Not that I blame you.”

A gust rattled the mullioned windows and sent a scattering of pine cones across the metal roof.

“Nic shouldn’t have—” Holly said at the same as Sarah said “I’m glad Nic—”

They stopped. Sarah spoke first. “I’m glad she called you. That’s so like her. And I’m sorry I snapped when you got here.”

“You’re allowed,” Holly said. “You’ve been through hell and I have been a lousy sister.”

Sarah picked up her fork. “Goes both ways.” Another gust. She put a bite in her mouth, listening. “How’s work?”

“It’s okay.” Holly took another sip.

“I thought you liked your job.”

“Liked. Past tense. Let’s not talk about it tonight.”

Sarah worked a piece of pasta loose from a tooth with her tongue and eyed her sister over the rim of the wine glass. She was about to get smart-alecky and ask what Holly did want to talk about when a loud crack stopped her.

“Holy crap. What was that?”

“Tree splitting. Let’s hope it didn’t hit the house.” Sarah opened the door to the deck, holding tightly as another gust tugged at it. “I don’t see anything out here.” She shut the door firmly, then checked the front. “Nothing there either. Stove clock’s blinking. Power must have gone out.”

“For about the third time tonight. I tried resetting it, but it wouldn’t stay reset. Electronics never work right here.”

She’d forgotten. It had driven Jeremy nuts.

“So Janine found the cat when she got here?” Holly continued, working one silky ear with her fingers. “We should ask around.”

“Ask who? The nearest neighbor is George Hoyt and his house is half a mile away. Besides, I don’t figure George for an indoor cat. A mouser in the barn, maybe.”

“If she isn’t lost, someone may have taken her out to the country and dumped her. Crazy that people do that, but you know it happens. Anyway, she needs a name. What’s that Egyptian cat goddess? The name of the cat in the house behind us in town.”

“Bastet.”

“That’s right. You always were better at history than me,” Holly replied and Sarah glanced up sharply. An innocent comment or a barb, a swipe at her tendency to hold on to the past? She couldn’t tell. “It’ll be nice for you to have the company when we leave.”

“I’m not staying long,” Sarah said. “Oh. You mean Mom has other plans for me? What has she said to you?” Her fingers tightened on the stem of the glass.

“Nothing. Well, she asked what I thought about suggesting you come here for a while.”

“To help her clean. Decide whether to sell.”

“Oh, no. No, she thought you and Abby might spend the summer here. It always was your happy place. The whole family loved it, but you most of all.”