Aw, he shouldn’t be so hard on Tae. She’d been afraid for her life. He crouched in front of the door, reaching for the zipper. Paused. “Everything okay in there?”

“Just a dream,” Tae called back.

Yep. He unzipped the canvas. “Really?”

“Okay, a nightmare.”

“Or a memory.” Oh, Tae. “Well, that’s about enough of that.”

Tae looked up at him, something of hope, even relief in her eyes. He’d always thought her pretty, especially when he woke to her sitting beside his bed, her blond hair around her face, silky, those blue eyes in his.

It nudged something inside him. And he was right back to the promises of last night. “Don’t worry, Tae. We’ll figure out what’s going on.”

Soon they’d fixed breakfast, loaded the plane, and by the time they left, the sun had heated the wings, dissolved the ice, and Dodge eased them into the crisp blue sky without a hint of trouble.

The forecast called for clear skies, few clouds, and wind from the west. The perfect day, and indeed, Alaska was beautiful this time of year. Greening valleys filled with mountain heather and forget-me-nots, caribou running in packs, and geese lifting from crystalline-blue lakes. They passed Echo’s homestead and followed the river toward the ranch.

“Everything’s probably fine,” Colt said through his headset to Dodge. He rode copilot. His father had taught all of them to fly, so yes, if Dodge went down, Colt could land this thing, but he would prefer not to take the yoke.

“Keep calling,” Dodge said.

Colt tried again, toggling the radio. “Sky King Ranch, this is Piper N1516P, on approach.”

Nothing. Dodge cast him a look, his mouth tight.

Sitting behind them, Echo and Tae wore earphones too, but said nothing.

He spotted the ranch in the distance. Nothing seemed amiss. The main house sat on a hill overlooking a private lake, three tiny cabins with shiny new red roofs gleamed in the sun. His father often took his morning coffee out on the front porch, but today it was empty.

Colt searched the road leading up to the house. Sometimes Ranger ran in the morning, part of the SEAL PT habit he refused to shake. But his brother wasn’t hoofing it along the dirt road that ran across their property, along the empty hayfields and former cow pastures.

“Maybe they’re still sleeping,” Echo said.

“It’s seven a.m.,” Dodge said as he circled, then lined up for the landing.

He came in soft, despite the thick tundra wheels, like a bird on water. He throttled back, then taxied over to the hangar.

The doors were closed.

Dodge shut off the electronics and removed his headset.

Colt put his hand on his arm. “Maybe I’m overreacting, but . . . I think only we should go in.”

Dodge looked at him. Drew in a breath. He turned to the girls. “Stay here.”