Chapter 1 - The Birthday Gift Mark Tried to Take
Richard Mercer saw his grandson through the wall of snow before he understood what he was looking at.
Five-year-old Noah stood several yards from the lodge entrance, half-hidden by windblown flakes, his red sweater visible beneath an open winter jacket somebody had thrown over him. A length of soft decorative rope had been used to keep him beside the porch railing.
He was crying.
Richard dropped the overnight bag in his hand.
“Noah!”
He ran across the packed snow, released him, and scooped him against his chest.
Noah immediately wrapped both arms around his grandfather’s neck.
Richard could feel the boy shaking.
The front doors behind them opened.
Warm light spilled from the lodge dining room, along with music, conversation, and the smell of dinner.
Richard looked over Noah’s head.
Mark stood inside.
His son.
Watching.
Richard’s stomach turned.
“What the hell happened?”
Noah lifted one hand.
He was holding a small wooden airplane.
The wings were uneven. One wheel sat slightly crooked. Somebody had colored a blue stripe along the side with marker.
“Grandpa…” Noah’s voice cracked. “I made it for your birthday.”
For a moment Richard forgot the dinner, the snow, even Mark.
He lowered Noah slightly but kept the boy pressed firmly against his coat.
Then Mark crossed the doorway.
His eyes went directly to the airplane.
“Give me that, Noah.”
Noah pulled it against his chest.
Mark reached.
Richard knocked his arm away with his forearm.
“Don't.”
“Dad—”
Mark reached again.
Richard shoved him backward.
Mark stumbled into the birthday decorations beside the dining table. A chair tipped. Balloons tore loose from their ribbons. Paper garlands slid down the wood-paneled wall.
Mark caught himself against the table.
“Dad, it was just a little punishment.”
Richard stared at him.
Behind Mark, Claudia rushed forward.
She reached for Noah.
Or the airplane.
Richard could not tell which.
He blocked her with his free arm.
Claudia stumbled into the table, sending silverware and two plates clattering across the floor.
Noah buried his face in Richard’s coat and tightened his grip on the wooden plane.
Richard slowly turned toward Mark and Claudia.
“A little punishment?”
Mark froze.
Claudia lowered her hand.
Richard stepped closer.
He kept Noah tucked securely on his left side.
“Well, I have a little punishment for the two of you, too.”
Something happened in Mark’s expression.
Not anger.
Fear.
Claudia moved closer to her husband.
Richard had known both of them were nervous about tonight. Mark had called three times that week to make sure Richard would be at the lodge before dessert. Claudia had insisted they needed “one quiet family conversation” after the birthday dinner.
Richard had assumed they were planning some sentimental announcement.
Now he remembered the folder Mark had placed beside Richard’s usual seat before dinner.
A folder Mark had been strangely anxious for him to sign.
Richard looked down at Noah.
The boy was still holding the airplane.
“You made this all by yourself?”
Noah shook his head.
“Mostly.”
Richard softened his voice.
“Who helped?”
“Mr. Ben showed me the little saw.”
Ben Holloway ran maintenance at the lodge and had worked for Richard for twenty-two years.
Mark interrupted sharply.
“Dad, can we talk inside without turning this into something bigger?”
Richard looked at him.
“You tied a five-year-old outside in a snowstorm.”
“It wasn't supposed to be long.”
“How long?”
Mark did not answer.
Richard felt Noah move.
Then the boy whispered something against his shoulder.
“Daddy got mad because I went in his office.”
Mark's face changed.
Richard caught it.
“What office?”
Noah pointed toward the hallway beside the dining room.
Mark spoke immediately.
“He was told not to go in there.”
Richard looked back at his son.
“And that deserves this?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Claudia looked at Mark.
That interested Richard almost as much as the answer.
Noah raised the airplane again.
“I needed tape.”
“For this?”
He nodded.
“I heard Daddy say you couldn't know yet.”
The room seemed to narrow around Richard.
Mark took one step forward.
“Noah doesn't understand adult conversations.”
“What couldn't I know?”
“Nothing.”
Claudia closed her eyes.
Richard noticed.
Noah clung tighter to him.
Then he said the sentence that made Mark stop trying to explain.
“Daddy said after you signed tonight, it wouldn't matter.”
Richard looked toward the birthday table.
The dark folder still sat beside his chair.
May you like
His name was written across the tab.
And suddenly Richard understood why Mark had been trying harder to take the airplane than to explain why his son had been left outside.
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