Page 20 of Backtrack

Mim’s head fell to one side. She looked up, her hair splayed across the pillow. It was astonishing to Cutter how easily she’d taken to being married. He’d worried that the specter of his dead brother would hang over their relationship forever, but this incredible woman was somehow capable of loving him completely without diminishing her feelings for Ethan.

“I like it, too,” she said. “Except for the bloating and indigestion.” She came up on both elbows with such speed, Cutter thought he’d hurt her.

“So, like I said, you are going to Ketchikan to check on Joellen, aren’t you?”

“What? No. I just got back. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Come on, bud.” Mim often called himbudwhen she wanted him to know she was serious. “Your ex-wife calls you out of the blue …”

“So?”

“Let me ask you this, then,” she said. “Did you end on good terms when you divorced?”

“Not especially,” Cutter said. “We weren’t tearing out each other’s throats, but it wasn’t what you’d call amicable.”

“Good,” Mim said. “It’s not like the woman’s carrying a torch for you. She needs help—and you, Arliss Cutter, are not the kind to let a call for help go unanswered, even from an ex-wife.” Mim gave a tight chuckle. “Especiallyfrom an ex-wife.”

“I’m still processing the conversation.” Cutter yawned, stretching his shoulders. He was so tired his eyes were starting to roll back in his head. “It’s a two-night sail from Seattle to Ketchikan. Nothing I can do until day after tomorrow.”

“Ursula’s bringing Geoff and your sister for dinner on Sunday,” Mim said. “That’s five days.”

“My long-lost mother’s coming for dinner?”

“I thought we’d have leg of lamb. Just make sure you’re home by then to make the gravy.”

“My mother, huh …” He gave her a wry grin. “This might take longer than I thought. …”

“Not a chance, bud,” she said. “Your mother and I have different ways of doing things.”

“That’s a blessing,” Cutter said.

“Did you know she keeps her tomatoes in the fridge?”

Cutter stifled a grin. “I told you she was a monster—”

Michael, the older twin, burst through the door before Cutter could say more. Matthew was hot on his heels. Constance hustled in after them, grabbing the trailing boy by the shoulder.

“Mom’s resting. Y’all leave her alone!”

Cutter was accustomed to seeing Constance decked out in black, dyed hair hanging in her face. Today she could have passed for an emo Betty Crocker, with an apron over faded jeans and one of her mother’s garnet and gold Florida State T-shirts dusted with flour.

“Thank you, Constance, but they’re fine,” Mim said. “Uncle Arliss and I are just talking.”

Cutter scooted up against the headboard and looked at his niece. “How’s swim going? Your mom told me you’re killing it at breaststroke and freestyle.” Constance was beyond prickly after her father was killed and Cutter came to Alaska to help out. His relationshipwith Mim was strictly platonic then, but that didn’t matter to Constance. For a while she’d even suspected Cutter was her real father—until Mim set her straight. It was still touch and go, but swimming was one thing the two had in common. Cutter leveraged that as much as he could, hopefully without being too weird. “You have a meet Monday, right?”

“We do.” She winked at her mom. “But you’re not allowed to come, Uncle Arliss. You get too excited.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that,” Mim said. She eyed the boys. “What’s the problem, men?”

“Everything’s sigma,” Michael said, wagging his head and looking away. There was obviously a problem. “We were just wondering if you wanted creamy scrambled eggs or fried eggs. Because the fried ones will still be a little bit scrambled.”

“No cap!” Matthew stifled a giggle. “Michael just doesn’t know how to crack eggs.”

“I’m good with whatever,” Mim said.

“Uncle Arliss, I heard you say you’re going to be gone somewhere,” Matthew said. A pained look crossed the boy’s face. “That’s freakin’ suss! You just got home.”

Cutter turned to Mim and raised an eyebrow at this Generation Alpha speak. She shrugged.