Emily sat at the kitchen table cleaning her Glock and the two rifles her grandfather had used for hunting. She paid special attention to the rifles since they hadn't been used in a long time and she didn't want them to explode in her or Gideon's face if they were forced to use them. Even though the storm was still raging outside, the front and back doors were cracked open to provide some ventilation since the cleaning solvent and gun oil fumes were rather noxious. Given the choice of being slightly cold or passing out, she chose the first since it was easier to bundle up and strip off layers as she got warmer. Passing out just plain hurt since the odds were high of hitting your head on something as you went down for the count.

"Insert Dr. Reid's statistic about injuries sustained from passing out at any given time," she intoned with a fond and bemused smile as she inserted the cleaning rod into the barrel of the rifle she had disassembled.

Behind her, Emily could hear the raised voices from the bedroom she assigned to Gideon and Noah. The walls were thick so she couldn't make out what was being said, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what the fight was about. It was the same argument they had the night before at the winery and the subject of the dispute was sound asleep without a care or worry dancing about in her head in the second bedroom. Amie appeared to be clueless about the strife she was causing between uncle and nephew and that was one of the reasons Emily chose to sleep on the couch instead of in the second bed.

She really hoped Gideon would be able to talk some sense into Noah and get him to dump Amie after all of this was over. The French girl was nothing but trouble and Emily didn't have much respect for women who voluntarily became involved with a married man regardless if he was happily married or not. Only a small percentage did it out of love or what they thought was love. Insert another Dr. Reid statistic here, she mused. The majority seemed to be after the money, power or social status, especially if the guy was loaded, the affair might bring. Over her lifetime she witnessed many a marriage that had been torn asunder by the infidelity of the husband or wife and sometimes both. But she didn't think yelling was the right way to go about it. If Noah was anything like his uncle, or for that matter, like she had been at the age, he was going to stubbornly dig in his heels and refuse to budge. If Emily remembered correctly, it used to drive her mother nuts when she did that. A smile came to her lips. Actually it still does.

But knowing it was really none of her business, she tuned out the fight and let her mind drift onto other things. As her hands went through the motions of cleaning the rifle, Emily revisited some of her fonder memories of the cabin.

"Where are we going, Grandpa?" six year old Emily asked as she skipped along at his side, one hand in his and the other clutching her stuffed Tigger to her chest.

Bruce Cabot smiled indulgently down at his granddaughter. She looks so much like her mother did at this age, so full of life and eager to learn about the world surrounding her. "I can't tell you yet. It's a secret."

Her dark brown eyes grew as wide as saucers. "A secret?" she breathed in awe.

She loved secrets just as she loved her grandpa and coming up to the cabin. This was turning into one big adventure and she loved those too. Normally she had to be in bed by eight…that she didn't love, but he said tonight was a special occasion. So a little after nine thirty they were trooping up the slope behind the cabin with a flashlight lighting their way.

"A good secret," he agreed with a wink.

He led her to a large clearing, spreading the blanket he had draped over one shoulder on the ground and sat down. He patted the space next to him.

Emily just stood there, looking around. "This is it?" she asked in utter disappointment. What was so special about a field?

"It hasn't happened yet." He patted the spot again. "Please sit, Half Pint."

She wouldn't have anything to do with that, choosing instead to nestle in his lap. "What hasn't happened yet?" she asked as she arranged Tigger so that he was sitting in her lap and facing out.

"The Perseid meteor shower."

"What's a Percy id meaty ore?" Emily's brow furrowed as she tried to wrap her tongue around the unfamiliar words.

"Meteor," he gently corrected. "They are pieces of rock up in outer space. When it crosses the sky it appears as a streak of light."

Her eyes lifted to the night sky. "Like a shooting star, Grandpa?"

"Exactly like one."

"Can I make a wish on it?"

"You sure can."

The two fell into a companionable silence as they gazed skyward waiting for the meteor shower to start. Emily loved sitting in his lap with his arms wrapped around her. He made her feel safe and he loved feeling the warmth of her little body pressed against his chest. When Bruce saw the start of the streak of light, he quickly pointed it out to Emily. She stared up at it in amazement and when she realized what she was supposed to do, she squeezed her eyes shut and made a wish.

After a minute, he asked, "Did you make a wish, Emily?"

"Uh huh," she said with a vigorous nod. "But I can't tell you because then it won't come true."

"I understand."

Emily twisted around in his arms so she could gaze into his face. "Did you make a wish too, Grandpa?"

"I sure did, but I can't tell you," he teased with a smile.

She giggled and turned her attention back to the night sky watching in wonder as more meteors streaked by. It was the most beautiful thing she has ever seen besides her mommy and grand-mere, of course.

"Do you know why it's called the Pereid meteor show?" Bruce could feel her shaking her head. "It's because it seems to occur by the constellation Pereus." He pointed out the constellation and traced it several times until she saw it.

"Neat. Why is it called Percy us?"

Bruce was hoping she would ask. His granddaughter was so smart and curious. "Because he was considered the greatest Greek hero and slayer of monsters," he explained and launched into the myth of Pereus with Emily hanging on to his every word.

Emily smiled at the memory as she reassembled the rifle and set it aside. Stargazing had become their thing after that night. Every time she visited they would return to that same clearing and he would point out a new constellation and related the myth behind it. In later years they would lug a telescope up there so they could check out the nine known planets in the solar system. Back then, poor little frozen Pluto was a planet. Emily owed her love of astronomy to her grandfather.

Also to this very day Emily could remember what she had wished for that starry night. She wanted a baby elephant just like Dumbo: cute, expressive blue eyes and huge floppy ears, but no clown hat. Elephants were too dignified to wear silly clown hats. She had it all planned out. His name would be Maynard and not Dumbo because that name was…well…just plain dumb. He would stay in her room and she would feed him peanuts. Emily chuckled at the simplicity of her six-year-old thinking. It never crossed her little mind that Maynard would outgrow her bedroom and she would have to corner the peanut market to keep him fed and happy. Plus there was the problem of what went in, had to come back up. Her nose wrinkled at that. When she thought about it, Emily realized that she never did get her elephant…not even in stuffed form.

"Oh well," she mused. "You can't get everything you wish for. Otherwise I would be dating the sexiest man alive."

Emily sighed dramatically and grabbed the second rifle. As she took it apart, her mind wondered off to another memory.

Being in France and with her grandfather usually made twelve year old Emily so happy and though she was thrilled to be with him, she wasn't pleased with how it came about. In years past, it was always her and her mother, and sometimes her father if he wasn't involved in his latest research project, on the visits, but this time it was different. Both were too busy with their respective careers and thinking they didn't need her underfoot for the whole summer, had shipped her off to her grandfather. Emily missed and hated her parents at the same time.

Her moodiness didn't go unnoticed by her grandfather and he felt for her. He knew being the daughter of an ambassador, ever a junior ambassador at this point, was hard on his Half Pint. The constant moving from posting to posting meant new schools every couple of months and new friends. Being the new kid on the block made it hard to get accepted and when it did happen, it was time to move on. Bruce had even once suggested that Emily could live with him full time and was even willing to move back to the States so that Emily could have a stable home life. But Elizabeth nixed the idea, wanting her only child with her. Knowing he wouldn't win the argument, Elizabeth got her stubborn streak from her mother, he settled for summer visits with his granddaughter. There has to be a way to cheer her up and when it came to him, Bruce went in search of Emily.

He found her with her nose buried in a book out on the porch. She looked unhappy and not like the young girl he liked to see. She was missing her exuberance and he wanted to bring that back to her.

"Emily," he called to her. She dropped her book and looked over to him.

"Come with me."

Dutifully, Emily followed her grandfather back into the cabin where he prepared a small snack. Once settled, he asked her more about her new home. He barely remembered where it was this time, but Emily didn't seem to hate it as she shared with him a few happy stories, none of which contained her parents.

"Are you sad to be here?"

"No. I love it here."

"You look sad."

She shrugged. Telling him she was happy would be a lie. "I don't mean to."

"It's okay to be sad. You can't help how you feel, can you?"

She shook her head no.

He rested his crossed arms on the table. "Why are you sad? You miss your parents?"

"They're always busy," Emily confessed. "They just sent me here so they don't have to be with me."

His heart went out to her. "That's not true. They sent you here so I can spend time with my favorite granddaughter whom I love very much."

"I love you too." But she still missed them and wanted them to be around too

"Would it make you feel better to do something more fun?"

"Maybe," she answered.

He directed her to follow him outside and took her into the woods where there was some lumber cut and sanded to look a lot like the ones people buy. "Help me with these."

She tried her best to help and asked him what they were doing.

"We're building, Half Pint" he said with a secretive wink. "A place just for you."

What they ended up building was a tree house, a mini version of the cabin, complete with a railed deck and a sturdy ladder leading up to it. Her grandfather had originally planned to surprise her with it, but she was glad he didn't. Emily may not have inherited his way with wood and tools, but she learned a lot about construction and had fun working at his side even when she nailed her thumb with the hammer. She also felt a sense of accomplishment watching something built by her hands taking shape. It took them half the summer to get it done, but it was well worth the wait. There were shelves for her stuff, a well-padded window seat for reading and a table and two chairs made from the leftover lumber.

But most importantly, the tree house was hers and hers alone. No one could enter without her permission and she was allowed to decorate it any way she wanted. Like her grandfather's cabin, she loved the pine paneling so she left the walls bare except for a single poster. On the shelves she kept her prized possessions: a few books and some trinkets she picked up while out walking the mountain sides with her grandfather or had gotten from her grand-mere when she was still alive. The tree house quickly became her little home away from home, one of the few constants in her young life. She knew it would be there waiting for her when she came to visit.

Emily paused in reassembling the rifle to gaze at the fire dancing in the wood stove. From the first round of decorating everything stayed the same because that was the way she like it. Well…maybe not everything. The poster changed yearly, gradually changing from animals to Bruce Springsteen. The tree house stood empty now. The second summer after her grandfather died, she took down the poster and packed everything up, knowing she wasn't ever coming back. As she told Gideon it wasn't the same without him there. But being back here, sitting in the chair she always sat in, brought back a lot of wonderful memories that made Emily think it was time to revisit her decision. Perhaps it was time to make the cabin her own since he had left it to her in his will.

She had just started on her Glock when the bedroom door flew open and Noah stormed out. He marched over to the sink, snatched up a clean drinking glass and used the hand pump to fill it with water. He took one sip and then exclaimed, "Man, it stinks in here."

"Sorry," she said with an apologetic smile. "Cleaning solvent and gun oil is rather strong smelling."

"You're not kidding. I thought a skunk died in here." He moved over to the table and gestured at one of the empty chairs. "May I?"

"Certainly."

He flopped into it and took several more sips of his water. "I guess you heard us fighting."

"Sort of hard to miss," Emily said noncommittally, keeping her eyes on her Glock.

"Uncle Jase just doesn't get it that I love Amie," he huffed. "He thinks she isn't good enough for her."

This was one conversation she didn't want to have with him, but it seems like she was. Noah must be thinking that since she wasn't related to him, she was the perfect neutral third party to vent his frustrations to. Unfortunately for him, she was extremely biased against Amie, but she would try to be what he wanted.

"What do you think?" she countered.

"I think she's great and she loves me too. He just doesn't understand that I don't care who else she was with, only that she's with me."

"He's just trying to look out for you."

"I don't need him to."

"There were a lot of times I wish I had someone to look out for me. It's not about needing them to. It just shows that they care."

"I guess."

"Parents…and uncles always want the best for you. They want you to be happy and successful in life."

"I am. I'm so happy that I'm thinking of asking Amie to be my wife."

Emily's eyes bulged and she almost dropped the gun on the table. That was the last thing she expected to come tumbling out of his mouth.

"Don't tell me not to do it too."

"I'm not. You have to make your own choices, but what's the rush?"

"I love her," he bluntly said.

"Noah, the two of you are…she…" Emily didn't know how to word what she wanted to say. "Your relationship is pretty new. I'm not telling you not to do it, but look at the situation for a moment. If you weren't on this adrenaline adventure, would you still feel the same?"

"Absolutely. I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her."

"How long have you been seeing each other?"

"A month and it's been the best month of my life."

"Have you discussed the future with her?" she probed. "Is she the marrying type? Does she want children? Is she willing to move to the States with you?"

"Well…no," he admitted uneasily.

"If she doesn't want to move, are you willing to come to France or somewhere else in Europe?"

"No."

"Then where would you live? On separate continents?" Emily shook her head. Noah was blinded by his feelings. "You need to know the answers to some of these questions before making a life long commitment."

"I never thought of that."

"You need to. It's one of the reasons why many couples get divorced. They jumped into marriage blindly without asking the right questions and finding out that they have nothing in common."

Noah nodded his head at that. It was food for thought. He knew very well what his uncle thought of Amie and he was curious to know hers. "Emily, what do you think of her?"

That was a loaded question she ever heard one. "I don't really know her. I do think she's young and a little naïve." More like oblivious. "But I can see what you see in her." She comes off as exotic and exciting to a young man like Noah. Her looks didn't hurt either.

"Uncle Jase thinks she a problem, that she's going to get me killed, but it's not her fault."

"Noah, your uncle is concerned and I can see why. It's not completely her fault, but she did put you in this situation by making poor choices and not one thinking them through."

"It's not fair to blame her. She didn't do anything wrong."

Emily gently reminded him that she willingly took part in an affair and that there were several other disastrous decisions that nearly got them both killed. All of it could have been avoided.

"It's not her fault," Noah repeated, but now there was uncertainty in his voice.

"I suggest you talk to Amie first before you pop the question and afterwards do a bit of soul searching to find out if she's the right woman for you. And if she is, then go for it. But don't blindly follow your heart; it might lead you somewhere you don't want to go."

"I can do that, but I don't think I'm going to change my mind."

Emily just nodded, having said everything she wanted to say. The ball was now in Noah's court and she hoped he decides against proposing. All she could see was heartbreak for him down the line when Amie eventually leaves him for another man.

Noah pushed back the chair and stood up. "Thanks, Emily, for the talk. It's a lot easier to work things out when nobody is yelling at you."

"No problem, Noah. I hope I helped you figure out a few things." Like not marrying her and running for the hills, she silently added.

"Maybe, maybe not. Well I'm going to hit the sack and get some sleep."

Just then a loud snore followed by a snort emanated from the bedroom he was sharing with Gideon and both turned to the half open door.

"If you don't want to stay with your uncle, you can sleep in the loft. There's an extra bed up there. All you have to do is make it up," she offered.

"Nah, I'm used to it. Mom snores a lot worse than Uncle Jase," he said with a grin. "Night, Emily."

"Night, Noah," she said and watched him slip back into the bedroom and quietly closed the door. Worse than Gideon's snoring? How could that be physically possible? The man could wake the dead with his.

Emily cleaned up and stretched out on the couch. She knew she should get some rest, but sleep was fleeting. The unsettled feeling in her gut was keeping her awake. It wasn't the pain of her ulcer flaring up, that she was very familiar with. It was more of a sensation that everything was going to come to a head tomorrow.