The child considered the advice for a moment and said, “Aunt Julia?”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t my mommy look up at the sky when she went in the lake? Didn’t she know that the water wouldn’t have gotten her then?”

Julia hugged Katie close again and said, “Oh, baby, I don’t know why she didn’t look up. I know we both wish she had, though. Maybe it was just too much water all at once, not like the shallow bit in this bathtub.”

Katie arched back, looked at Julia with eyes glistening with tears. Still, a subtle hint of a smile curved her lips. “You’re all wet, Aunt Julia.”

Relief flowed through Julia. She laughed. “I guess I am.” Plucking her damp blouse from her chest, she said, “See? A little water never hurt anybody.”

Katie sat down in the tepid water, pursed her lips in a determined line and stared at the ceiling. “Okay, you can do it now,” she said.

A minute later, Katie had clean hair and Julia couldn’t stop thinking about her sister, who, in her last moment of life, with her child sleeping a few yards away, didn’t look up.

AT CLOSING TIME, six o’clock the next night, what had started out as a picture-perfect autumn day ended with dark thunderheads blanketing the mountains and lightning illuminating the valleys between the tallest hills. Julia and Cora carried rocking chairs in from the store’s front porch and removed hanging baskets from the eaves before the storm could send them tumbling down the mountain. Fighting a near gale-force wind, Julia turned tables upside down on the porch floor and advised her mother to seek shelter. “I’m almost done,” she hollered to Cora. “You and Katie make sure the windows in the store are closed. I’ll be right in.”

Cora ducked inside just as the first fat drops of rain hit the shingle roof over the veranda. By the time Julia secured the last of the outside decorations, the wind had driven the downpour sideways, pelting the wood slat floor and dampening her clothes. She ran into the store, closed and bolted the door and took the roll of paper towels Cora handed her. Wiping her arms and legs, she said, “This is what we used to call a toad strangler.”

“And how,” Cora said, her worried gaze fixed on the closest window. “It’s nights like this I really miss your father. We’ll probably lose power before this one’s over.” She lifted a lacy curtain panel and peered out at the pitch-black evening sky.

Julia placed her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Come away from the window, Mama. You know it’s not safe to be near glass when there’s wind and lightning.”

Cora started to walk away, but stopped and went back. “My goodness, Julia,” she said. “I think I see headlights coming up the mountain. Who would be fool enough to be out on a night like this?”

Julia joined her at the window. “Someone caught on Whisper before they realized the storm was going to be this bad is my guess.”

“I’ll wait by the door to see if they pull in to ride it out.” She looked over her shoulder at Julia. “You and Katie go in the back room and get those old lanterns and oil your dad kept there. If this person passes us by, we’ll still have time to make it to the cabin before the worst of it hits.”

Julia took Katie’s hand. As they went into the storeroom, Julia noticed headlights veering into their lot. A few seconds later, the front door opened. A gust of wind sent the chimes above the entrance into a jangling frenzy, which was followed by a rumbling bellow of thunder.

And then the door was closed, reducing the wind to a steady ominous howl. The sound Julia heard next made her heart pound and her hand freeze around the glass chimney of a hurricane lantern. She wasn’t prepared for that strong baritone voice from her past.

“Hi, Mrs. Sommerville,” the man said. “Some night, isn’t it?” Silence stretched for a few seconds until he added, “I bet you don’t remember me.”

Cora gasped. “For heaven’s sake. Cameron Birch?”

He chuckled. “In the dripping flesh, and am I ever glad you’re still open.”

Julia tucked the lantern into the bend of her elbow and pressed it against her chest to keep from dropping it. Making her way to the storeroom entrance, she stood on the threshold. Her curiosity urged her to peek around the door frame, but her feet felt glued to the floor.

“Who’s out there, Aunt Julia?” Katie asked from behind her.

“I’m not sure,” she lied. “Probably someone looking to get out of the storm.” She leaned against the open door and listened.

“We were just talking about you the other day,” Cora said.

“We?”

“My daughter’s here with me.”

Cameron coughed. His voice was raspy when he said, “Tina?”

Julia held her breath, fearful that the mention of her sister might send Cora into tears. But she calmly answered, “No. My younger girl, Julia’s visiting for a while.”

“I remember Julia,” he said. “She was a student of mine when I taught at Riverton. Smart girl. Got excellent grades, as I recall.”

“She has a job in Manhattan now,” Cora said. “She’s a reporter.”

“Good for her.”

Julia heard footsteps and assumed Cameron was choosing supplies. “Is she married?” he asked after a moment.

“No,” Cora said.

Katie tugged on the end of Julia’s blouse. “Why don’t we go out?” she asked.

“We will,” Julia said. “In just a minute. But for now I need you to be very quiet.”

Katie dropped her hand. “Okay.”

Thunder rumbled over the rooftop, and Julia missed the next words spoken. When the sound faded she heard Cameron say, “I had just started up to my grandfather’s place when the storm hit. I was hoping to buy enough supplies from you to get by until morning.”

“Pick out what you need,” Cora said. “But you might want to wait until the weather clears before you continue up the mountain. This road is slippery in a rainstorm. You can stay in the cabin with us till it’s safe.”

That’s just great. Julia wasn’t really thrilled with the idea of the four of them sitting in the cabin parlor talking about old times, which in retrospect were alternately tragic and embarrassing. But then an even worse picture formed in her mind. Cameron’s wife was probably out in the car. If he accepted Cora’s invitation, it would be the five of them huddled together until the storm passed. How cozy would that be, especially after she’d relived all those old memories the past few days.

Julia released the breath that had been trapped in her chest when Cameron declined. “Thanks anyway, but I can make it to the top. I’ve got four-wheel drive on a Jeep that can plow through anything and I think the rain’s letting up some now.”

Julia heard the rustle of paper and assumed Cora was filling a sack with supplies. She was thankful when the cash register drawer opened and closed, indicating the transaction was finished. “Nice seeing you again, Cameron,” Cora said. “How long you planning to be on Whisper?”

“I’m not sure. A while. My grandfather left the cabin to me when he died. This is the first chance I’ve had to come up here.”

“We’ll be seeing more of you then,” Cora said.

“Definitely.”

Wonderful. Julia winced. She didn’t look forward to running into Cameron and his wife. Although, thinking rationally, she’d been over Cameron for years. So why was she reacting like a love-struck college coed now?

“You be careful now,” Cora called just before the door closed.

Julia stepped aside and let Katie precede her into the store.

“What took you two so long?” Cora asked. “You won’t believe who was just…”

“I heard.”

“I guess the rumors about him coming back to Whisper were true,” Cora said. “Imagine Cameron Birch walking in here after we were discussing him the other day.”

“Yeah, imagine.” The lanterns still in her arms, Julia walked toward the rear of the store and glanced out the back door. “Well, come on. If we’re going to make it to the cabin, we’d better go now.”