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way, it was going to be a long four weeks.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    Ian flipped on a light switch and glanced around the interior of the room—or cabin , as they called it here. The space was furnished in a rough, rustic Adirondack style that he instantly disliked. Overstuffed plaid sofa and matching chair, framed hunting scenes on the walls. Wide pine flooring and exposed beams on the ceiling. Large braided rug spread in front of a stone fireplace, windows framed by gingham curtains. Windows that held no view—only the stormy night and presumably, when the sun rose, an endless vista of woods and fields. In other words, nothing.
    Every piece of furniture, every architectural detail, the antithesis of the sleek chrome, dark leather furnishings, and industrial lighting that filled his loft in Brooklyn. Although technically he was still in the state of New York, he felt as though he’d been uprooted to an entirely different country. Everything looked foreign and out of place here, and he felt lost in a way that suggested he’d never find his way back home. Worst of all, he’d dragged Preston here with him. As if the boy hadn’t had enough upheaval in his life.
    It used to be he’d occasionally wondered if he screwed up. But that was Before. Now he measured his mistakes using mental equivalent of a Richter scale, his every decision, his every movement, balanced against the obscene amount of damage he might do. Coming here, for example. The idiocy of that decision suddenly felt catastrophic. What was he thinking? That a dog would fix everything? A dog? Unforgivably stupid. One hundred thousand dollars stupid.
    The nurse moved ahead of him and gestured to the amenities. “The kitchen is fully furnished. Stove, refrigerator, pots and pans, dishes and glassware. No dishwasher, though we do provide soap, sponges, and a drying rack. You’re welcome to cook all your own meals, but we serve both breakfast and lunch in the main house once the training session gets underway. We encourage all our guests to join us. I think you’ll agree it’s important to eat communally.”
    “Why’s that?” he asked.
    She turned, clearly surprised by the interruption. “I’m sorry?” She’d been walking ahead, moving from room to room in the rote, disengaged manner of a flight attendant pointing out safety procedures, obviously intending to give her spiel and leave. Now she turned and faced him directly.
    He searched his mind for her name and momentarily came up empty. Then: Chloe Edmonds—that was it. He pegged her to be in her late twenties. Medium height, medium build. Brown hair and big brown eyes. Nice mouth—plump cherry lips and pearly white teeth. Pretty rather than beautiful. Not the sort of woman who’d stand out in a crowd. Her looks belonged more to the girl-next-door variety.
    “You said I’d agree that it’s important to eat communally,” he said. “Why?”
    “Oh, that.” She tilted her head, considering. “Several reasons, actually. We’ve found that both lingering illness and sudden onset disability can be an isolating experience. It’s not unusual for our clients to have a history of withdrawing from society, either by choice or because physical limitations have made that necessary. Our goal is to help people reconnect with others. We ease that transition by providing a group that’s both non-judgmental and supportive. That helps everyone. Some of the bonds formed here last for years.” 
    Ian nodded. He supposed that made sense. That had certainly been the case with him and Preston. Their world had shrunk to just the two of them, interrupted only by intermittent visits with doctors, physical therapists, and the like. It might be nice to meet people facing similar challenges.
    “And the other reasons?”
    She gave his suit a pointed once-over. “This is not a vacation. You’re here to work. Training a dog isn’t easy. Knowing that everyone else makes mistakes and is facing similar