Sanctuary

car.”
    Too much roaring in the ears, Jo thought, and forced out another breath. “What?”
    “The snazzy little convertible there. That’s Kirby’s. Just park behind it.”
    “Right.” Jo maneuvered the Land Rover into position and found when she cut the engine that the air was full of sound. The humming and peeping and rustling of the little world hidden behind the dunes and beyond the edge of the forest. It was ripe with scent as well, water and fish and damp vegetation.
    She climbed out of the car, relieved to step into so much life.
    “Jo Ellen!”
    Kirby dashed out of the dark and grabbed Jo in a hard hug. Quick, spontaneous embraces always caught Jo off guard. Before she could steady herself, Kirby was pulling back, her hands still firm on Jo’s arms, her smile huge and delighted.
    “I’m so glad you came! I’m so glad to see you! Oh, we have a million years to catch up on. Hey, Lexy. Let’s get your gear and pop a couple of tops.”
    “She brought wine,” Lexy said, pulling open the cargo door.
    “Great, we’ll pop some corks too, then. We’ve got a mountain of junk food to go with it. We’ll be sick as dogs by midnight.” Chattering all the way, Kirby dragged Jo to the back of the Land Rover. “Good thing I’m a doctor. What’s this?” She dived into the grocery bag. “Pâté. You got pâté?”
    “I nagged Brian,” Jo managed to say.
    “Good thinking.” Kirby hefted the food bag, then hooked Lexy’s six-pack. “I’ve got these. Ginny’s getting the fire going. Need a hand with the rest?”
    “We can get it.” Jo shouldered her camera bag, tucked her bedroll under one arm, and clinked the bottles of wine together. “I’m sorry about your grandmother, Kirby.”
    “Thanks. She lived a long life, exactly as she wanted to. We should all be that smart. Here, Lexy, I can get that bag.” Kirby beamed at both of them, deciding she’d just about cut the edge off the tension that had been snarling in the air when they’d arrived. “Christ, I’m starving. I missed dinner.”
    Lexy slammed the rear door shut. “Let’s go, then. I want a beer.”
    “Shit, my flashlight’s in my back pocket.” Kirby turned, angled a hip. “Can you get it?” she asked Jo.
    With a little shifting and some flexible use of fingers, Jo pried it out and managed to switch it on. They headed down the narrow path single file.
    Site twelve was already set up and organized, a cheerful fire burning bright in a circle of raked sand. Ginny had her Coleman lantern on low and an ice chest filled. She sat on it, eating from a bag of chips and drinking a beer.
    “There she is.” Ginny lifted the beer can in toast. “Hey, Jo Ellen Hathaway. Welcome home.”
    Jo dumped her bedroll and grinned. For the first time, she felt home. And felt welcome. “Thanks.”
     
     
    “A doctor.” Jo sat cross-legged by the campfire, sipping Chardonnay from a plastic glass. One bottle was already nose down in the sand. “I can’t imagine it. When we were kids, you always talked about being an archaeologist or something, a female Indiana Jones, exploring the world.”
    “I decided to explore anatomy instead.” Comfortably drunk, Kirby spread more of Brian’s excellent duck pâté on a Ritz cracker. “And I like it.”
    “We all know about your work, Jo, but is there someone special in your life?” Kirby asked, trying to steer the conversation in Jo’s direction.
    “No. You?”
    “I’ve been working on your brother, but he isn’t cooperating.”
    “Brian.” Jo choked on her wine, sucked in air. “Brian?” she repeated.
    “He’s single, attractive, intelligent.” Kirby licked her thumb. “He makes great pâté. Why not Brian?”
    “I don’t know. He’s ...” Jo gestured widely. “Brian.”
    “He pretends to ignore her.” Lexy sat up and reached for the pâté herself. “But he doesn’t.”
    “He doesn’t?” Kirby looked over, eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”
    “An actor has to observe people, their role playing.” Lexy waved a hand airily. “You make him nervous, which irritates him. Which means you irritate him because he notices you.”
    “Really?” Though her head was spinning, Kirby finished off her wine and poured another glass. “Has he said anything about me? Does he—Wait.” She held up a hand and rolled her eyes. “This is so high school. Forget I asked.”
    “The less Brian says about anything, the more it’s on his mind,” Lexy told her. “He hardly ever