The nicked and dulled blade of the axe sent wood chips scattering as it bit into the wounded side of the thirty-foot-high dead pine tree.

THWACK!

Peter impatiently jerked the axe free, bringing the tool back and swinging mightily, burying the blade deeply into the vee that was already halfway through the tree's diameter. This time he was unable to pull the cutting edge free and, with a roar of frustrated rage, he kicked savagely at the axe handle. It snapped off at the base of the blade and went flying into some nearby bushes.

"God damn him, God DAMN him, GOD...DAMN...HIM!" Placing both hands on the tree trunk, Peter pushed on the wood, a battle between an irresistible force and an immovable object. For several seconds, the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back bulged and quivered against the strain of this battle between man and nature. He kept losing his footing as the slippery wood chips slithered out from under his boots.

A great creaking and groaning came from the heart of the tree as the wood snapped and popped, finally toppling over into a group of saplings as Peter nearly fell onto the jagged splinters of wood left exposed on the stump. Sweat poured off his face and torso, and he gasped for air as he bent over to brace himself with hands on knees in a tripod position.

"Feel better now, Son?" Paul drawled lazily from the vantage point he had taken nearly an hour earlier under an oak tree some fifteen yards from the impromptu logging site.

"No, I do...not!" Peter's chest heaved as he struggled to fill his lungs with oxygen. He sank shakily to his knees, then pivoted to lean his back against the rough bark of the tree stump. "I...won't feel...better...until I...strangle that...bastard...with my...bare hands!"

"He's already dead."

"I don't care!" He whipped the hair and sweat out of his eyes with a fling of his head and sniffed, breathing open-mouthed and panting. "I want to feel his throat...between my fingers...and squeeze the life out of him!" He opened one eye and squinted briefly at his foster father. "I keep picturing it in my mind. I can see him abusing Kacie. Feel her terror. Hear her calling for me. Jesus God, when I think of him touching her and almost violating her..."

"'Almost' is the key word, Peter."

"Oh, what do you know about it? It wasn't your wife and baby who almost died. It wasn't your wife who was terrorized and you couldn't do a damn thing to stop it!"

Paul's anger rose to match Peter's. "You seem to be forgetting about the time Annie was attacked, Peter. Are you still going to tell me that I don't know what you're going through?"

Peter's head dropped to his chest, and his body sagged in exhaustion. "I'm sorry, Paul. I did forget." He sighed heavily. "It's just that...listening to her tell about it...dredges up so much..."

"You've got to let this go, Peter. Otherwise it's going to eat you up inside, and you won't be any use to yourself or anyone else."

"How? How do I let it go? Christ, every time I look at Kacie's back it reminds me all over again of how I failed her."

"Failed her? That's bullshit."

Peter stared at Paul with sorrowful hazel eyes. "If someone else hadn't found her first, she'd be dead. What good was I during all that?"

"If I really have to spell it all out for you, I will. You bought Kacie time. From what I was told, you kept Rezac from executing her in front of your eyes. You had a group of people doing things for you they would have done for no one else. Rykker, Kermit, Blake...you think those men give their friendship and loyalty lightly? I thank God for whoever it was that intervened and saved Kacie the actual act of penetration, but Kermit was only minutes away from getting there himself. What do you think kept your wife from losing her courage, but the knowledge that you were moving heaven and earth to get to her? And good Lord, Son! When you kept your baby from dying? Where do you get off asking what good were you?"

Peter caught his lip between his teeth and looked off into the distance, his eyes following the lazy circles of a hawk soaring over the lake. "Is this your way of telling me I've wallowed in self-pity long enough?"

"Damn right it is, and you ruined my good axe to boot."

Smiling in spite of himself, Peter scrambled to his feet and poked around the tree stump, wincing as he jabbed himself with a splinter of wood when he picked up the axe head. "Didn't ruin it -- just needs a new handle and some sharpening." He looked down at himself and ruefully examined his sweaty, grimy body and clothing. "Man, I'm a mess." He picked up the shirt he had earlier discarded and swabbed at the perspiration that dripped from his face and neck.

Paul held up his hand and waited for Peter to stride over and help him to his feet. "Not any more you're not. Come on. Let's get back to the house before Kacie and Annie send out a search party."

"I thought you were the search party."

"I am, but Annie's the type to send in reinforcements."

A cheery voice called out from the kitchen, "Too late." Annie pushed through the swinging doors wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. "My goodness, Peter. What did you do, chop down a whole forest? You positively reek."

"Want a close-up smell, Mom?"

Peter reached out for her and she shooed him away with her towel. "Don't you dare touch me before you've showered and put something on that smells better than eau de sweat."

"Where's Kacie?"

"She's upstairs resting. And before you ask, no, there's nothing wrong. She's just taking a nap. She is seven months pregnant, Sweetie. Takes a lot of energy to run two bodies, you know."

The frown that had instantly appeared on Peter's face disappeared. "I still think I'll check on her." He headed for the stairs and paused with his foot on the first step when Paul's words stopped him.

"I won't presume to tell you how to handle women, Son, but I think the shower first would be a better idea."

Peter sniffed at himself and grimaced. "Whew. I think you're right. Fumes like this could be hazardous to my wife's health." He stretched his back and shoulder muscles stiffly. "Man, I hope I can move in the morning."

"I wish you'd move right now and get that smell out of my house!" Annie scolded with a grin. "If you clean up nice, I might still let you stay for dinner."

"I'm going, I'm going." He grinned. "Pretty soon you guys are going to start charging us rent or at least making us split your grocery bill."

Peter padded silently into his old room, a towel wrapped around his waist. Kacie lay with her back to the door, partially covered with a blanket. Pulling open bureau drawers, Peter was pleased to discover that he still had a spare set of clothing left. {Sometimes I think we live here as much as we do at home.} He quickly donned a T-shirt and a comfortable pair of jeans before crawling onto the bed and sliding over to Kacie. Propping his head on his right hand, he reached out his left to stroke her hair, and it surprised him when she spoke.

"You were gone a long time."

"I-I just had some thinking to do, and I wanted to get a head start on that woodpile for the winter."

She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead out the window. "I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry about? You haven't done anything."

"I really thought that maybe through hypnosis I'd remember something helpful, but all I did was nearly get your father arrested again. If there hadn't been so many witnesses that he was at the precinct when I was found, they'd have hauled him off."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I don't want you worrying about it any more. I want you to just concentrate on you and the baby and us."

She rolled over to face him. "I feel so bad about what's happening to your career. It's all because of me, and --"

Silencing her with a kiss, he murmured, "No more of that kind of talk."

"But, Peter --"

Pulling her close, he breathed, "You talk too much." He sealed her lips with his for a much longer time.

Kacie allowed him to change the subject, and ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "You need a haircut, PC."

"Nuh uh. You like playing with my hair, and I like it when you do."

Sliding her leg over his, she hinted, "That's not all I like playing with. Especially since I've been pregnant. I want you all the time."

He sighed and pulled away reluctantly. "No can do right now, Hon. We're expected downstairs for dinner."

"Do you have to be so practical?"

"We'll stay for dinner, but dessert is at home. I may be practical, but I'm not stupid."

She regarded him soberly. "I love you, and I believe in you. You know that, don't you?"

"Better than my own name. Hey, by the way, why do you call me PC sometimes?"

Grinning at him, she explained loftily, "It varies. Sometimes I call you PC because you call me KC. Sometimes it stands for 'pretty cute', and sometimes 'practically certifiable'."

"What, not Prince Charming?"

She was still laughing as they went downstairs to dinner.

To Part 16

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