It was another bad night, full of dreams about explosions, and fire, and pain. The nightmares were commonplace. She’d had the same dream so many times, yet it still rocked Bree to her core with the same intensity as it had the first time.

In it, Zack was reaching out to touch her face, tears in his eyes. She could handle the horrific images far more easily than seeing her husband’s tears. It only made the longing worse when she spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

She hoped a change of scenery would make a difference, but she knew better. No matter where she traveled, each place would have one thing in common with the previous one—Zack wouldn’t be there. He wouldn’t be anywhere. He was gone.

Jace Rice was gone, too. Not in the same way, but still…gone. Every day, Bree told herself she shouldn’t think about him. It wasn’t Jace she missed, it was Zack. Jace was a distraction, someone she allowed herself to think about when her subconscious refused to let her mourn her dead husband. On an intellectual level, she understood that the way she felt about Jace wasn’t real; it was simply a manifestation of her real grief over Zack’s death.

Zack Fox had been the light of her life. The word “soulmate” was thrown around too often, but in this case, there was no better way to describe him. Zack made her laugh. He made her feel safe, secure, confident, smart, and beautiful—all of those things. With Zack by her side, Bree could do anything she set her mind to. It had never occurred to her that one day, she’d be forced to find out what she could accomplish without him.

Bree had just graduated with her master’s degree, something she’d started when Zack was still alive. He hadn’t pushed her into it, but he had encouraged her. He told her it was the right time to do it, before they started their family. He convinced her she’d be happy she’d done this for herself later, when there wouldn’t be time for it. Now she had all the time in the world.

Maybe she’d consider getting her doctorate. It wasn’t as though having a family was still in her future.

Bree had offered to babysit her nephew, Cochran, while her sister Blythe, and Tucker, her sister’s husband, attended the opening of his show at a local art gallery.

Tucker was an artist who worked in many different mediums. He’d done sculpture, relief carvings, and block prints. Watercolor was his current passion.

Earlier this year, he’d painted landscapes in Black Forest, outside of Monument, Colorado, before a massive fire destroyed much of it. After the fire, he continued to paint the same landscapes. Blythe told her that the paintings in the show were both compelling and heartbreaking. Many of the vistas he’d painted days before became charred remains of what they’d once been.

Bree hadn’t seen Tucker’s recent work, only heard about it. She was afraid seeing it would make the nightmares worse. Instead of seeing the Black Forest, Bree would see Afghanistan. Her imagination would replace the images of the burned-out forest with those of a charred convoy destroyed by an IED, like t

he one Zack had been a part of.

“Where’s that sweet baby?” she asked Blythe as soon as she walked in the back door of her sister’s house.

“Still sleeping, which means you won’t get a break tonight. He’ll be wide awake for his Auntie Bree.”

“You won’t hear a complaint from me.”

“I know, which is why I let him sleep. If we were going to be home tonight, I would’ve gotten him up an hour ago. Unlike you, I would want him to go back to sleep before midnight. And before you ask, we’ll be home long before then.”

There wasn’t much nightlife in Monument, Colorado. They’d probably be home by ten at the latest.

Between May and September, the historic town hosted an art walk once a month. Tucker was showing his work in the gallery of the winery that had recently opened. While the other businesses would close up shop early, most folks would end up at the winery, which would stay open later.

“Stay out as late as you want,” Bree told her. “Take advantage of your last night with a regular sitter.”

“Don’t remind me. I can’t believe you’re going to be gone a whole month.”

“I need to do this, Blythe.”

Bree was leaving the next day for Stanley, Idaho. The trip was a self-imposed sabbatical, intended to give her time to grieve her husband’s death. In the fall, she’d be taking over a junior teaching position at the Air Force Academy while the tenured professor was on maternity leave.

They heard Cochran stirring through the baby monitor sitting on the kitchen counter. As big as the house was, they always seemed to be in the kitchen. The back door led straight into it, and with windows on two sides, the views of the dense forest on one, coupled with that of Pikes Peak on the other, were jaw-dropping.

Today was a perfect blue-sky day, referred to as a bluebird day by most everyone. The clouds billowed below the peak of the fourteener, only one of the fifty-three such peaks in the state of Colorado.

“Do you mind if I get him?” Bree asked.

“Of course I don’t,” answered Blythe, tears filling her eyes.

“Oh, honey, please don’t cry. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Blythe waved her hand in front of her face. “I know, but I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Sweetie, I need this.”

“I know you do. I’m being selfish. Now go get your nephew before he climbs out of the crib on his own.”

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