Chapter Two

Four Years Later…

The moon rose high and bright against the midnight sky. Starlight bathed her icy world, making everything look shiny and new. Had it not been for the rugged earth gouging her back, Ginger felt certain she could have fallen asleep right then and there, despite the cold. It wouldn't have been her first time being turned into what her aunt and uncle lovingly termed "a Gingersicle." But even if the half-frozen ground hadn't been digging into her back, she was still much too wired for sleep.

The sun couldn't rise soon enough for her liking. She hunched her shoulders, sliding her parka-covered form ever so slightly against the lawn, trying without success to find a comfortable spot. It didn't matter, she told herself. The wide open spaces and frigid winter temperature outdoors wouldn't be nearly as comfortable as, say, her nice warm bed or a hot bath, but sometimes comfort wasn't what one needed most.

Some might have looked on her "moon bathing" and deemed it strange, but to Ginger, it was a promise fulfilled. Yes, she was cold and a little bit stiff, but she felt every second of that cool discomfort. The important thing was the experience. For the first time in four years, she was taking the time to experience something with her whole being. Her attention wasn't splintered into a thousand different directions.

Montana wasn't Georgia, where life—and the people in it—ran at its own pace. It hadn't taken long for her to get into the habit of following a more rigorous time schedule. The fact that she'd overloaded herself with work had also contributed to her not enjoying a relaxing life for several years now, but she vowed to change all that. She was going to infuse a little Georgia into her brisk Montana existence, starting now.

And when the sun did rise, she would begin the new day with anticipation and only a few short hours before she would see her family. Chris and Gran were the first due to arrive, and she couldn't wait to see them. Through regular phone calls and a handful of visits from her brother, she had watched him go from paranormal fanatic to renowned investigator and, while she would never admit to such a thing out loud, she almost missed those midnight ghost hunts. Even Gran with her eccentric ways and at times blistering tongue had been sorely missed.

Ginger had grown up hearing the old saying "absence makes the heart grow fonder." In this case, it had almost made her heart break.

"It's time to make some changes," she whispered to the silent night sky, watching the stars wink back at her in a cosmic response.

* * *

It was hot. Despite being the middle of January in Billings, Montana, Ginger was sweating beneath the thin orange robe. Someone had cranked up the heat, and the packed auditorium did little to relieve the arid temperature that swirled around the crowd. It was a stifling reminder that her day had finally come—the day she had spent the past four years doggedly striving for with single-minded focus. Today her dreams became a reality, marking the start of the rest of her life. Today her probation was lifted. Today also happened to be her college graduation. Funny how things work out, she reflected, trying not to sway on her feet.

One more hour, just one small hour, and she could take off the damn heels. Ginger shifted her weight from one aching foot to the other and, for the tenth time that day, wondered what she had possibly been thinking by wearing jeans and a thin sweater underneath her graduation robe.

"What fabric is this?" she whispered to the perky blonde next to her on the stage, plucking dismally at the garment.

"Ginger Malhaven."

"They're calling you," the blonde whispered back.

"Oh thank you, Lord." Ginger pulled her shoulders back and even managed a serene smile as she made her way across the stage in a gait that wasn't quite a stride but had not as yet become an all-out hobble.

Cameras flashed and shouts went up in the audience as she accepted her degrees on a surge of pride. She, Ginger E. Malhaven, was officially a college graduate. Scanning the crowd as she picked her way down the short set of steps to the left of the stage, she sought her family, but individual faces were difficult to make out against the harsh glare created by the spotlights. They had all come to see her walk across that stage. Chris, Gran, her aunts and uncles, and her cousins had all arrived safely, and Ginger was touched beyond measure by their awesome show of support.

"Aiden Wright," the announcer's voice boomed.

Ginger joined the rest of her graduating class in front of the audience and turned to watch the handsome, dark-haired man shake hands with the dean. Aiden. The boy that she had watched mature into a man over the past four years.

Time slowed and she remembered the first day she'd seen him. He had caught her interest immediately with his dark eyes and strong build. The fabric of his knit shirt had stretched deliciously across his chest, and she had quickly found herself unable to look away. The attraction had proven mutual; she'd caught him staring intently several times during that hour-long freshman stat class and had run into him constantly over the next few weeks.

It seemed that everywhere she went, Aiden was there, too. It hadn't taken much time for the two to become closely acquainted, and within a year they were dating.

Aiden descended the stairs, diploma in hand, but rather than take his place near the end of the line, he walked to where Ginger stood. The blonde smiled and quickly side-stepped. Then Aiden was next to Ginger, shoulder to shoulder, reaching down to capture her hand in his much larger one.

It was one of the things Ginger liked best about him: He made good use of what little time they had together. Between their school schedules and Aiden's work schedule, they didn't have a lot of free time, but Aiden had never complained or appeared dissatisfied. He had simply made it a habit to improvise whenever possible. Together they had shared ten-minute dates, lunch hours, midnight movies, and walks through campus at dawn. Most of their daily conversations consisted of hastily scrawled notes and text messages. It worked for them.

"Congratulations," she murmured, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Thanks, babe. Congratulations yourself. It's almost over, by the way."

She winced. "Was I that obvious?"

"Only to me."

"Let's hope." She laughed quietly.

The last name had been called, the final degree ceremoniously doled out. All that remained was one more speech and a few pictures.

"Are you ready to meet my family?" she whispered, carefully watching his reaction from the corner of her eye.

"I've already met them."

"You what...? When?"

"I met with them this morning."

Her heart sank. "Even Gran?"

"Even Gran." His lips curved. "We planned the party."

"Ugh. I said no party."

"Sorry, it's too late. We leave for the lake in exactly one hour."

* * *

The group at Willow Creek was a boisterous one, consisting mostly of Ginger's large extended family, which to her way of thinking explained the noise level. Aiden was beginning to look a little overwhelmed, and Ginger would have come to his rescue except for one pertinent fact—he had brought this on himself.

Had he thought she'd been making a joke when she told him that her family could take any social event and turn it into a hoedown? "Hah," she snorted, taking in the scene before her. Who was laughing now?

The D.J. had started off playing a mix of classical music and easy listening, only to be met with cold silence from the Malhaven/Deveraux clan, and sometime over the last two hours, Beethoven had given way to the Dixie Chicks and the party had been in full swing ever since.

"Hey, sis, great party. Why's the boyfriend look so pale, though?"

"I don't think he was prepared for the whole lot of us all at once like this."

"We are a lot to take in." Chris nodded understanding.

"He'll get acclimated," she was quick to say, cringing a moment later when she saw Gran walk by and pinch Aiden on the rear end. "Maybe…"

"Hah. So, is he something serious? You haven't said much about him over the phone."

"I don't know yet. He could be, I think. I know he's a good friend right now."

"And a little more?"

"And a little more," she confided. "He's so nice, Chris, really, but I'm not going to be planning a wedding anytime soon. It's not like that yet."

"You're a smart girl, Gin. You'll know when it's the right time and the right person."

"Aiden could be the right person."

"Yes, he could be," Chris agreed neutrally.

"You don't like him."

"Ginger, I don't even know him." He laughed, hugging her to him with one arm. "But he seems nice enough. And if you're happy, that's what really counts, right?"

"Right, I guess…"

"It is. You're young and there's plenty of time yet."

"What about you, Chris?"

"I'm still young too," he teased.

"I meant are you still seeing Andrea?"

"That's a negative." He shrugged. "We parted ways amicably enough."

Gran joined them, Aiden and two cousins in tow, before Ginger could form a reply to her brother's less than good news. She had liked Andrea.

"There you are. I thought you'd forgotten all about me and this poor man over here."

"Hey, Gran," Ginger greeted her affectionately, leaning forward to press a kiss to the old woman's weathered cheek. "I was talking to Chris. We've got a lot of catching up to do. It's been a while."

"Been too long, if you ask me," Gran complained, rounding on Aiden. "Are you the reason Ginger hasn't been home in four years?"

"Gran!"

"Merle," Cousin Amy hastily intervened, stepping between Gran and Aiden. "Ginger's been on probation all this time. She hasn't been able to leave the state of Montana, remember?"

"Probation...?" Aiden's eyes grew wide.

"Cousin Ginger got arrested!" six-year-old Cousin Lacy helpfully announced.

Her little voice carried amazingly far, spreading through the crowd like a brush fire through dry tinder. Heads turned and people began to call out to one another.

"Ginger was arrested?"

"Again?"

"Is she being arrested right now? I don't see any cops…"

Ginger groaned, Chris snickered, and Aiden continued to stand there with a bewildered look on his face.

"Everybody calm down!" Ginger shouted over the din. "Everything is fine! I'm not being arrested—again. And as of today, I am no longer on probation!"

"Congratulations!"

"Way to go, Ginger!"

"Here's to Ginger!"

"I thought this was a graduation party!" someone else called out.

"Probation?" Aiden repeated.

"Woo! Yeah! Go me! Thanks for coming, everyone," Ginger shouted. "Excuse me," she muttered to Gran, Chris, Amy, and Lacy before taking hold of Aiden's arm and setting off in search of some place a little more private. It looked like she had some explaining to do.

"Ginger?"

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

"What did you do?" Aiden cocked his head and watched her through hooded eyes, as though he were trying to imagine just what she was capable of.

"It's sort of a long story," she warned.

"I'm not going anywhere."

No, she supposed he wasn't. "When I was thirteen, I met a boy…"

* * *

"Chris, are you sure you have to leave so soon?"

"Duty calls. I've got two investigations on hold right now. Believe me, I wish I could spare a few more days."

"I've got nothing to do," Gran put in, "but I hitched a ride with him."

"Well, I'm going to miss you both." Ginger sniffed.

"There's nothing stopping you from coming home, girl. As of yesterday, you're a free woman."

"Gran, don't pester her."

"I'll do as I please, thank you very much. I've been pestering this girl for twenty-two years, and I'm not about to stop now."

"No, I suppose you aren't," Chris sighed. "Ginger, I love you. I'll see you soon."

"Drive safe. Call me when you get there." She released him and turned to cling to her grandmother. "Bye, Gran. I love you."

"This mountain air is no good for you."

"No, Gran, it's not."

"And this cold weather has been hell on your complexion."

"Yes, it has," Ginger dutifully replied.

"Well, okay," Chris broke in loudly, "I'll just take Little Miss Sunshine and be going now."

"I'll see you both soon," Ginger promised, blinking back stray tears.

"Damn right you will," Gran said, and with a wave and a honk, they were soon backing down the drive.

Ginger meandered down the walk, stood on the side of the street with her arms wrapped around her middle, and watched until their taillights disappeared from view. She hated to see them go and would have loved nothing more than to hop into her Eclipse and follow them all the way to Atlanta.

The thought of returning to her hometown was so strange. It was the singular thing she had yearned for during that long, lonely first year in Billings. Oh, how she had longed for her Georgia family! Ginger had missed all the sights and smells of home. She had been mildly surprised to find that it had been the little things, those things she had taken for granted, that she'd missed the most.

Even though four years had passed, she still found herself comparing her new surroundings to her home in Atlanta. She knew it wasn't fair, yet seemed to be unable to stop. Besides, not much could compare to Chateau Deveraux. The place was practically a palace, although why it was called Chateau, she couldn't say. She exhaled a breath of frigid air, shivering a little.

Late afternoon had become dusk, and the temperature had begun to plummet. Ginger spared one last look at the road stretching before her and finally turned toward her aunt and uncle's comfortable A-frame. Tomorrow was another day.

* * *

The somber, half-panicked phone call from Gran came six months later, in the early pre-dawn hours of a Friday morning.

"Gran, what's wrong?"

"I've got some bad news, Ginger girl."

"H-has something happened to Chris?" she croaked, her heart in her throat.

"No, no dear, your brother is just fine. It's … it's me."

"Gran?"

"I didn't want to say anything before, but I may not be with you for much longer."

"Gran, what are you saying? Are you sick? Are you in the hospital?"

"No hospital. When the time comes, I want to be right here in my own home."

"Why didn't Chris call me?" Ginger cried. "He never let on that your health was failing…" she stuttered, tightly clutching the phone.

"He didn't want you to worry. But, Ginger, I need you now. Please hurry."

"I'm on my way."