A Will and a Way

flashlight.”
    “I almost broke your nose.”
    Pandora shook back her hair and walked over to retrieve her light. She didn’t want him to see her hands tremble. “Well, I certainly think you should find out who someone is before you throw a headlock on them.”
    “You followed me.”
    She sent him a cool, amused look. It helped to be able to do so when her stomach was still quaking. “Don’t flatter yourself. I simply wanted to see if something was going on out here, and I didn’t want you to interfere.”
    “Interfere.” He shone his own light directly in her face so that she had to throw up a hand in defense. “And what the hell were you going to do if something was going on? Overpower them?”
    She thought of how easily he’d taken her by surprise. It only made her lift her chin higher. “I can take care of myself.”
    “Sure.” He glanced down at the can she still held. “What have you got there?”
    Having forgotten it, Pandora looked down herself, then had to stifle a chuckle. Oh, how Uncle Jolley would’ve appreciated the absurdity. “Hair spray,” she said very precisely. “Right between the eyes.”
    He swore, then laughed. He couldn’t have written a scene so implausible. “I guess I should be glad you didn’t get a shot off at me.”
    “I look before I pounce.” Pandora dropped the can back into her pocket. “Well, since we’re here, we might as well look around.”
    “I was doing just that when I heard your catlike approach.” She wrinkled her nose at him, but he ignored her. “It looks like someone’s been making themselves at home.” To prove his point, Michael shone his light at the fireplace. Half-burnt logs still smoldered.
    “Well, well.” With her own light, Pandora began to walk around the cabin. The last time she’d been there, the chair with the broken rung had been by the window. Jolley had sat there himself, keeping a lookout for Saunderson while she’d opened a tin of sardines to ward off starvation. Now the chair was pulled up near the fire. “A vagrant, perhaps.”
    Watching her, Michael nodded. “Perhaps.”
    “But not likely. Suppose they’ll be back?”
    “Hard to say.” The casual glance showed nothing out of place. The cabin was neat and tidy. Too tidy. The floor and table surfaces should have had a film of dust. Everything had been wiped clean. “It could be they’ve done all the damage they intend to do.”
    Disgruntled, Pandora plopped down on the bunk and dropped her chin in her hands. “I’d hoped to catch them.”
    “And what? Zap them with environmentally safe hair spray?”
    She glared up at him. “I suppose you had a better plan.”
    “I think I might’ve made them a bit more uncomfortable.”
    “Black eyes and broken noses.” She made an impatient sound. “Really, Michael, you should try to get your mind out of your fists.”
    “I suppose you just wanted to talk reasonably with whichever member of our cozy family played search and destroy with your workshop.”
    She started to snap, caught herself, then smiled. It was the slow, wicked smile Michael could never help admiring. “No,” she admitted. “Reason wasn’t high on my list. Still, it appears we’ve both missed our chance for brute force. Well, you write the detective stories—so to speak—shouldn’t we look for clues?”
    His lips curved in something close to a sneer. “I didn’t think to bring my magnifying glass.”
    “You can almost be amusing when you put your mind to it.” Rising, Pandora began to shine her light here and there. “They might’ve dropped something.”
    “A name tag?”
    “Something,” she muttered, and dropped to her knees to look under the bunk. “Aha!” Hunkering down, she grabbed at something.
    “What is it?” Michael was beside her before she’d straightened up.
    “A shoe.” Feeling foolish and sentimental, she held it in both hands. “It’s nothing. It was Uncle Jolley’s.”
    Because she looked lost, and more vulnerable than he’d expected, Michael offered the only comfort he knew. “I miss him, too.”
    She sat a moment, the worn sneaker in her lap. “You know, sometimes it’s as though I can almost feel him. As though he’s around the next corner, in the next room, waiting to pop up and laugh at the incredible joke he’s played.”
    With a quick laugh, Michael rubbed a hand over her back. “I know what you mean.”
    Pandora looked at him, steady, measuring. “Maybe you do,” she murmured. Briskly she