Chapter 1 #3
Tisha began to weave a tale about how she had been staying at a friend’s cabin beside a beautiful lake, thinking she would have the place to herself, when a handsome guy with an incredible smile had landed his plane and declared he wanted the cabin too.
At first, they had argued, teasing each other just like they had when they knew each other in college.
But somehow that summer, they had forgotten all their disagreements and instead, they had fallen in love.
Tisha trailed off, then glanced down at Sadie.
She’d closed her eyes, her breathing steady and peaceful.
She had fallen asleep, but Tisha was wide awake, memories of Chase flitting through her mind like fireflies in the fields surrounding the farm back home in North Carolina.
One thing was for sure: she’d come to Redemption for a fresh start and to help Sadie remember that she’d had an amazing dad.
Cute stories, sentimental songs, a hundred photos—whatever it took—she’d keep Chase front and center.
And somehow she’d learn to accept the hard truth that not all happy endings last forever.
No doubt about it, he was made to fly.
Ethan McGuire eased the helicopter onto the mountaintop plateau.
The skids kissed the snow, and the rotors churned up a glittering storm of fine powder.
Staring out at the glorious blue sky and the razor-sharp peaks, he adjusted the cyclic as his brother Luke flashed a grin and a thumbs-up.
Ethan responded with a faint nod, his attention still half on the chopper and half on the view.
He’d only been back home in Redemption, Alaska, for about a month.
But soaring over the untouched wilderness and navigating the ridges and angles tapped into his innate skills—and offered freedom.
Up here, the weight of everything else stayed grounded.
Up here, he didn’t have to wrestle with himself.
“You guys ready?” Luke’s voice crackled through the headset, pulling Ethan from his thoughts.
He swiveled in his seat. The chatter of excited clients, three men from Utah, filtered in from the back.
When Ethan gave the go-ahead, they climbed out of the helicopter, laughter and awe trailing behind them.
While Luke opened the cage and retrieved their gear, Ethan checked the fuel gauge.
More than enough. It would take at least ninety minutes for these fellas to make their way down the mountain, giving him plenty of time to scout the area he’d reviewed on the map.
Luke climbed back into the helicopter, his cheeks flushed from the cold. He tugged the door shut, then slid his headset into place. “All right, they’re all set. We’re planning on a twelve-thirty pickup.”
“Roger that.” Ethan lifted off, the helicopter hovering momentarily before soaring west.
“Hold up. Where are you headed?” Luke shot him a questioning glance.
“Relax. I know what I’m doing.”
“You’re going to look for Trevor’s plane, aren’t you?”
Ethan nodded. “Of course I am. We’re already out here, so why not?”
“Dude, he went down six months ago. They’ve searched high and low. You’re not going to find him.”
“What you meant to say is, nobody’s found him yet.” Ethan fought to keep his voice even. “I spent twenty years in the Coast Guard, Little Bro. Locating missing things is what I do.”
“Slow your roll there, big guy. We’ve had the best of the best out here, combing every inch.”
“There’s no way anyone has scanned every nook and cranny of these mountains.” Ethan’s breath fogged the window as he studied the jagged rocks protruding from the snow-covered hillside. “That’s not possible. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to keep looking.”
“You don’t have an unlimited amount of fuel,” Luke said.
“Correct. But I did file a flight plan that said we’d be gone three hours.” A frozen stream that fed into an ice-covered lake caught his attention and earned a second look. “I can’t let his story end this way.”
“I know this brings up memories of losing your bestie, MJ,” Luke said. “But maybe you should focus your efforts elsewhere.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“How’s Brody doing?”
“He’s fine. He’s great. Everything’s great.”
“Um, that seems highly unlikely. You moved across the country, put him in a new school, and left his grandparents in Florida.”
“I didn’t leave them. They wanted to move into an assisted-living place. That was their choice.”
“I’m just saying, Adeline’s only been gone a little over a year. Brody’s been through a lot. He can’t be fine. Not after all that.”
Ethan gritted his teeth. Since when had Luke—who’d never married or had children—become the local expert on coping with grief and being a single dad?
“All right, so maybe he’s not great. But that’s okay because we’re home now.
No more moving around. We’ve got lots of family support, and I’m going to fix everything.
You’ll see.” He scanned the endless expanse of snowy peaks below.
Trevor’s older brother, MJ, had drowned along with their dad on a fishing trip decades ago.
Which meant Mrs. Kelly had lost her husband and both her sons.
Ethan couldn’t let her go forever without closure.
“Uh-oh,” Luke said, his tone shifting. “You need to head back.”
“Why?”
Luke held up his phone. “Got a text from Mom. Looks like the school called. Brody’s not having a great day.”
Ethan stifled a groan. “All right. Headed back now. On our way, I want to fly over Townsend Glacier.”
“All right.” Luke nodded. “It’s changed quite a bit. Remember when we were kids and we could take a boat right up to the face?”
“And your friend Cal’s dad would blow the horn and ice would calve?” Ethan glanced at Luke and grinned. “That was the best.”
Ethan adjusted their course, flying east toward the glacier and then Redemption. Below them, jagged ice stretched for miles, a frozen river of glorious blue crevasses and dirt-crusted icebergs spilling through a valley between two mountains.
Luke let out a slow whistle. “Check that out. On the far left. Looks like it’s about to calve.”
Ethan leaned over and stared out the window. The water in the bay was littered with icebergs. He scanned the jagged edge of the glacier’s face where a blue-and-white chunk of ice tipped forward, ready to splinter off. “Just a matter of time before it goes, right?”
“Yep,” Luke said. “If only we’d brought the air horn.”
Ethan headed for Redemption, trying to ignore a strange unease settling in his chest. Right now he had bigger problems than a calving glacier. Like getting to the bottom of whatever trouble Brody had gotten into at school.
Thirty minutes later, he set the helicopter down on the landing pad.
The McGuires’ sprawling two-story log resort loomed before him, its rustic charm a stark contrast to the dense evergreen forest climbing the mountainside behind their property.
With its wraparound balcony, icicles hanging from the edge of the roof, and snowdrifts in the yard, he sort of felt like he’d wandered into a Hallmark movie.
Behind the resort, the building known as the shed, which his dad and grandparents had built years ago, stood strong, its red metal roof a beacon against the backdrop of white snow.
They’d spent hours in there playing basketball, soccer, touch football, and Ping-Pong.
Pretty much anything that involved a ball.
Well, except for freeze tag, and they only played that when his little sister Megan whined about being left out.
Sure, there’d been some squabbles and hard feelings, but mostly good memories.
Memories he’d hoped to recreate with Brody.
Except they were off to a rough start.
He powered down, thoughts of his son interfering as he logged flight time and fuel.
“If I’m with Brody, who’s going to pick up the skiers?”
“I’ll take care of it.” Luke left his headset on the hook over the console and climbed out of the chopper.
Ethan followed and inhaled sharply, the cold air biting at his cheeks.
It was a sensation he still hadn’t fully acclimated to.
He missed the warm, humid breezes of Florida, the salt in the air, the ease of wearing shorts and T-shirts year-round.
He shook off the thought as quickly as it came.
Florida wasn’t for them anymore—not without his wife.
Snow crunched beneath his boots as he crossed to the back door and pushed it open.
The resort’s interior enveloped him in familiar warmth.
The inviting scent of cedar mingled with the faint aroma of freshly baked cookies from the kitchen.
Rustic wooden beams spanned the high ceiling, and the walls were adorned with photographs of three generations of family gatherings, ski trips, and vacations in the lower forty-eight.
The spacious living area, with its leather couches and stone fireplace, still felt like a refuge.
Brody’s backpack lay abandoned on the floor.
Sighing, Ethan stepped over it. His mother, Cassie McGuire, stood behind the desk where they usually greeted customers, her dark hair twisted into a neat bun, a few stray strands framing her face.
Country music played softly in the background, a soothing contrast to the tension in the air.
She turned, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Dangly earrings caught the light from the rustic chandelier overhead.
“There you are. How’d it go?”
“Fine. Luke says he will handle the pickup. What’s going on?” He leaned both elbows on the desk’s worn surface. “Where’s Brody?”
“He’s out in the shed. Blowing off steam.” She gave him a knowing look. “Kind of like you used to do.”
“I don’t like the sound of that at all.”
Mom glanced back at her laptop and clicked out of whatever she’d been working on. “I had to pick him up. He was a mess, so I brought him home early.”