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He had no idea where those words had come from. Probably the idea had been simmering on the back burner of his mind for a long time. But all of a sudden it was the truest thing he’d said since telling Daisy Bellamy, “Let’s have the baby and raise it together,” eleven years ago.

Hearing a guy declare he was going to take on such a risky enterprise was bound to send a woman running for cover. Trying to make a living by running a ski resort was like betting on horses or playing the lottery.

Darcy’s reaction was the last thing he’d expected. “That’s awesome,” she said.

“Awesome as in a wise investment, or awesome as in bat-shit crazy?”

She laughed. “Depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

“Why? Does my opinion matter?”

Not really, he thought. There had been a time, long ago, when he’d put great stock in opinions—of parents, teachers, coaches. There had been a time when his father’s opinion had mattered so much that Logan had lost himself. He could admit that now. He had been lost in some mythic quest for perfect—on the soccer field, in school, in business.

Then out of the worst thing to happen in his life had come the best thing he’d ever done—Charlie. Since he became a dad, every move he made had been for Charlie’s sake.

Telling Darcy about the ski resort made Logan feel a spark of...something. That touch or spike that happened when an idea struck a chord. He hadn’t felt it in a long time. Since Charlie had left, Logan had tried to do the right thing—take care of his business and his life, contribute to his 401(k), go to the dentist for regular checkups. He’d done everything by the book and look what it had brought him. Charlie was moving farther away—proof that doing the right thing did not automatically cause the right thing to happen. For all of his efforts, he had nothing but routine predictability. It was time to shake things up. He’d been good long enough.

“I’m ready to take the risk,” he told Darcy. “Are you a risk taker?”

“I have been.” She touched her bottom lip with her finger, an absent gesture. “Not lately, though. I used to be a frequent flier when it comes to taking risks. But sometimes that means you come crashing down. Still, I think I liked myself better when I was a risk taker.”

Odd thing to say. He found himself wanting to hear more. He needed to have a normal conversation right now. He needed to escape the torn-up feeling inside. “How about we—”

“Oh, good, you’re here,” said India, hurrying toward them. “I was wondering if I was going to see my baby brother before we left.”

“Lucky you,” he said, giving her a hug.

“The baby of the family,” India said to Darcy. “You’d never know it by his height, though.” She stepped back and beamed at them both. “It’s good to see you two getting along. I knew you’d hit it off. Mom and Dad are crazy about Darcy.”

Shoot. The last thing he wanted was matchmaking by his family. “Is that what we’re doing?” Logan asked. “Hitting it off?”

Darcy shrugged. “Nobody’s hitting anything. Hey, India, did you know your baby brother’s buying a ski resort?”

“Right,” India said, “very funny.”

“She doesn’t believe you,” Darcy pointed out.

“She will.”

“I’m telling Dad,” said India.

“She’s always been the family snitch,” he told Darcy. For a split second, he pictured his father turning purple, with steam coming out of his ears. “What the hell are you thinking? Are you out of your fool mind?” Al O’Donnell would demand.

Yeah, Dad, maybe I am.

India gave him a hug. “We have to go. Don’t do anything crazy, okay?”

“Right.” He stepped away and there was an awkward moment when he faced Darcy. “Nice meeting you,” he said.

“Likewise.” She hiked her bag up on her shoulder.

“See you at Thanksgiving, yes?” India said.

* * *

Logan had one more goodbye to say—to Charlie’s friend André. The boy’s mom had come up on the train, and he saw them both off at the station. Maya Martin was stunningly beautiful, with caramel-colored skin, abundant dark hair and slender gorgeous legs. Yet she had a fragile look about her, harried and worn. Logan knew she’d endured a lot of trouble in her life, and he knew it wasn’t easy being a single parent. But beyond that, he didn’t know much about her.

So when Maya faced him with a troubled quirk on her brow, he braced himself to find out more.

“Do you have a minute?” She seemed nervous. He had the sense that she was on edge, expecting disaster at any moment. André was on the station platform, hanging out with some of the other departing campers.

“First off, I wanted to say thanks for giving André such an amazing summer.” She spoke with a slight Caribbean accent.

“It was great having him. I’m going to miss him almost as much as I miss Charlie.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it, being away from your kids? Makes it easier to know he’s having a good time, with good people. His sister was so jealous. Angelica had to spend all her days at the Y day camp in Tribeca. She’s excited that next year she’ll be old enough to come to Camp Kioga, too.”

“I look forward to meeting her.”

“Charlie and André get along great,” Maya said. “There’s nothing quite like a best friend, is there?”

Logan nodded in agreement. “When I was a kid, my best friend was named Doug. Doug Tarski. Someone to share adventures with, secrets, getting in trouble together, thinking up ideas, making things. Did André tell you about the fort they made?”

“Yes, they had so much fun. They...” Without warning, her voice broke.

“Maya? Hey, you okay?”

She visibly gathered herself together, inhaling deeply. Her hands flexed and unflexed. “I... Thanks for asking. Actually, I had some trouble this summer.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“I... Maybe. Yes.” She glanced over at André as if to make sure he was out of earshot. “Look, I’ll try to sum it up. André’s dad is not a good guy. He’s one of my dumbest mistakes, in fact. He sells drugs, and when I found out, I made him leave. Last year, he swore he’d gone straight, and even though I suspected he was lying, I went to see him. That’s when he told me he was in trouble, bad trouble, and all he needed was one tiny favor, and then everything would be all right. I was so stupid, I hate myself. I delivered a parcel for him. That’s all. And then the next thing I knew, I was under arrest. I couldn’t afford a defense attorney, but a guy at a legal clinic represented me. He got...he made a deal, but I’m going to have to do time.” Her eyes were filled with panic and tears.

Logan’s gut pounded. “Oh man.”

“I’m not a bad person,” she said. “Stupid, maybe, but not bad. I just hate myself for what I did, and now I can’t undo it.”

“So...what’s next for you?”

She swallowed hard, turned away from where André was playing and dabbed at her eyes. “The courts are backed up, so my sentencing date doesn’t come up until December. The guy at the legal clinic said since I don’t have any priors, I might get parole only. That’s what I’m praying for. But there’s a risk. The maximum sentence is twenty-one months.” She practically choked on the words.

The back of Logan’s neck prickled, but he kept his face neutral. “If you’re... If you have to go away, what happens to the kids?”

“That’s what I’m getting to. I don’t have anyone. My family’s in Haiti. I don’t have a plan. I’m going to throw myself on the mercy of the court. I’m going to beg to stay out of jail for the sake of my kids. But there’s no guarantee. So if...if the worst happens, they’ll go into the foster care system.” She shook with sobs now, looking broken as if the pieces of her would fall to the ground at any moment.

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