River’s End

of parole.”
    Her eyes narrowed in a frown of concentration. Fifteen years was longer than she’d been alive, but it wasn’t enough. “Does that mean he can just get out in seven more years? Just like that, after what he did?”
    “No, not necessarily. The system . . .” How could he possibly explain the twists and turns of it to a child? “He’ll go before a panel, like a test.”
    “But the people on the panel don’t know. They weren’t there. It won’t matter to them.”
    “Yes, it will matter. I can go.” And he would, Frank decided, and speak for the child. “I’m allowed to go and address the panel because I was there.”
    “Thank you.” The tears wanted to come back, so she held out a hand to shake his. “Thank you for talking to me.”
    “Livvy.” He took her hand, then touched his free one to her cheek. “You can call or write me anytime you want.”
    “Really?”
    “I’d like it if you did.”
    The tears stopped burning, her nerves smoothed out. “Then I will. I’m really glad you came. I hope you and your family have a good time. If you want, I can sign you up for one of the guided hikes while you’re here, or I can show you which trails you can take on your own.”
    Going with instinct, Frank smiled at her. “We’d like that, but only if we can hire you as guide. We want the best.”
    She studied him with calm and sober eyes. “Skyline Trail’s only thirty-one miles.”
    When his mouth fell open, she smiled a little. “Just kidding. I know a nice day hike if you like to take pictures.”
    “What’s your definition of a nice day hike?”
    Her grin flashed, quick and surprising. “Just a couple of miles. You’ll see beaver and osprey. The lodge can make up a boxed lunch if you want a picnic.”
    “Sold. How about tomorrow?”
    “I’ll check with my grandfather, but it should be all right. I’ll come by about eleven-thirty.” She glanced down at his scuffed high-tops. “You’d be better off with boots, but those are okay if you don’t have them. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    “Livvy?” he called when she turned back toward the trees. “Should I buy a compass?”
    She tossed a quick smile over her shoulder. “I won’t let you get lost.”
    She walked into the trees, going fast now until she was sure no one could see. Then she stopped, hugging herself hard, rocking, letting the tears spill out. They were hot and stinging; her chest ached with them as it hitched. But after they’d fallen, after she was able to breathe again, to scrub her face dry with her hands, she felt better.
    And at age twelve, Olivia decided what she would do with and how she would live her life. She would learn all there was to learn about the forest, the lakes, the mountains that were her home. She would live and she would work in the place she loved, the place where her mother had grown up.
    She would, over time, find out more about her mother. And about the man who killed her. She would love the first with all her heart. Just as she would hate the second.
    And she would never, never fall in love the way her mother had. She would become her own woman. Starting now.
    She stopped to wash her face in the stream, then sat quietly until she was sure all traces of tears and tattered emotions were gone. Her grandparents were to be protected—that was another promise she made herself. She would see to it that nothing she did ever caused them pain.
    So when she walked into the clearing and saw her grandfather weeding his flowers, she crossed to him, knelt beside him with a smile. “I just did this over at the lodge. The gardens look really nice there.”
    “You got my green thumb, kiddo.” He winked at her. “We won’t talk about the color of your grandmother’s.”
    “She does okay with houseplants. A family just checked into the lodge. A couple and their son.” Casually, Olivia uprooted a weed. She didn’t want to lie to him, but she thought it wisest to skirt around the bare truth. “The mother said she’d hiked around here when she was a teenager, but I don’t think the other two know a bush from a porcupine. Anyway, they’d like me to go out with them tomorrow, just a short hike. I thought I’d take them to Irely Lake, along the river so they could take pictures.”
    He sat back on his heels, the line of worry already creasing his forehead. “I don’t know, Livvy.”
    “I’d like to do it. I know the way, and I want to start learning even more about running the lodge and