Chapters (62)
- Cover
- Half Title Page
- Books by Katie Powner
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Ads
- Back Cover
The snowflakes are gentle on my face. Reassuring me. Showing me the way. I won’t stop. Not now. Not when I’m so close to finding my son. Rand will never understand, but I can’t hide from the truth any longer. I can only hope he loves me enough.
The wind howls all sorts of mysterious messages to me. It screams my name, Juniper. Juniper.
“Grandma.”
That’s not the wind. I clutch my chest as a young woman appears beside me. Where did she come from? I don’t want to talk to her. Don’t want to talk to anyone. This is a mission I must complete on my own.
“Grandma, stop. What are you doing?”
She grasps my arm, but I pull away. How dare she.
“Where are you going?”
I hurry on, but she is faster than me. I will my legs to move, but I cannot escape. She grabs my arm again, and I turn on her. “Leave me alone.”
Puffs of steamy air are spewing from her mouth. “Please, let me give you a ride home.”
How does she know I’m not on my way home right now? I eye her with suspicion. Something about her is unsettling.
“I can’t go home.” I march on, and she keeps step with me. “I need to find someone.”
The young woman remains at my side, matching my steps. “You’ll never find them on foot. Let me give you a ride.”
I stop and turn my gaze on Hardscrabble Peak, looming before me like a grizzly standing on its hind legs, daring me to come closer. She makes a good point. It’s a long way up the mountain, and these old legs have seen better days. But what is she going to do? Carry me?
“It’s freezing out here.” She wraps her arms around herself to prove her point. “And the snow is only going to get worse. Let’s go back to my car.”
Her car? I spin around and see a yuppie-looking silver vehicle parked in front of the schoolhouse. I’m almost inclined to say I have more faith in my feet to get me up the mountain than that thing, but the wind pushes against me, crying, crying, that it will not make it easy for me. It will fight back.
I plant my feet in the middle of the road and cross my arms over my chest while staring at the car.
The woman gets my hint and takes a tentative step away from me. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
I give her my best glare but remain planted.