The Long Way Back by Joann Ross

Author:Joann Ross [Ross, JoAnn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488034084
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1994-08-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

Caine’s chalet-style cabin was situated in a remote forest clearing, on the bank of a stream in a grove of silver-trunked aspen, nestled up against the slope of the Olympic Mountains. Behind the cabin was a small, unnamed glacial lake.

Much more than a typical rustic structure, the chalet had a soaring cathedral ceiling and an open balustrade leading to the upstairs loft. Adding to the sense of spaciousness was a panoramic wall of glass that thrust outward toward the forest like the prow of an ancient sailing ship.

From the outside, surrounded by a dazzling carpet of the same yellow, blue and white wildflowers Caine had brought to the cemetery, the cabin appeared warm and welcoming.

The inside, however, looked as if a hurricane had swept through it. Clothes were strewn over every available piece of furniture, and although he’d been home nearly two weeks, other clothing remained in open suitcases on the floor. The rest of the plank flooring was littered with newspapers—all opened to the sports pages.

Empty beer cans littered the tops of the tables along with glasses that had etched white rings into the pine. Nora was surprised and disappointed to see an oversize plastic ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. Cobwebs hung in the ceiling corners; dust covered everything.

She went into the kitchen, where she found more empty beer cans and a distressing number of bourbon bottles. The only time she’d ever seen Caine drink hard liquor was after the accident that had taken their son’s life. His drinking, which had begun the night Dylan died, had escalated daily, culminating in that horrid, drunken scene at the cemetery.

A pizza box was open on the counter, the two remaining pieces of pepperoni pizza cold and forgotten. In the refrigerator were three additional six-packs of beer, the crab her brother had given Caine, a taco wrapped in bright yellow waxed paper, a handful of individual plastic hot-sauce containers and a bowl of guacamole that looked like an organic-chemistry lab experiment gone awry.

This was a mistake, Nora thought. The one thing she’d always admired about Caine O’Halloran was his absolute, unwavering self-confidence. To think of him, hiding away out here, drinking too much, destroying his lungs, and clogging his arteries with fat and cholesterol as he ate his solitary meals from TV trays, was surprisingly painful.

She had just decided to leave when the unmistakable whine of the Ferrari’s engine cut through the mountain silence. A moment later, she heard the car door slam and Caine burst into the cabin, his arms filled with brown paper bags.

“Sorry it took longer than I’d planned,” he greeted with a cheerfulness that was at distinct odds with the bleakness of their surroundings. “But I figured I might as well pick up a few basics while I was at it.”

“That’s a good idea. Since you don’t have enough food around here to feed a starving gerbil.”

“Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard has gotten a bit bare.”

“Unfortunately, you can’t say the same thing about the bar,” she countered. “It seems to be more than adequately stocked.

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