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prison.”
    “Prison? It was hell.” And he’d made things even worse.
    She turned and peered over her shades as if waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she dipped her paddle. “I understand how you must have felt. But there are other teams, other baseball jobs. From when I worked in New York I know a couple guys with the Yankees. Maybe I could—”
    “Forget it.” Her casual concern made it difficult to contain his anger. “Baseball is my past. This is my life now.”
    After a pause, she said, “Tell me about Moosewoods.”
    Knocking away the residual anger like dirt from his cleats, he smiled at his brother’s accomplishments. “Ben started the company. I invested a few years ago. He bought the old log lodge and started with a few guide trips, but he needed cash to build the business.”
    “That’s where you came in?”
    “Moosewoods was a solid investment. Since then it’s grown to a full resort. We have antique-furnished rooms and a three-star restaurant. Ben’s built a string of cabins along the lakefront. You saw all the expeditions and resort activities on the brochure.”
    “You have a right to be proud. I can see the company’s doing well.” She turned to grin at him. “Too bad it’s way out in the boonies.”
    “Very funny.” He saw a few yards ahead the triangular wooden sign that marked the campsite. “We’re here.”
    The Gomagash campsite covered a point of land with sandy beaches on two sides. Cedar and maple trees edged a wide grassy opening with a fire ring and a wooden picnic table. “Isn’t this great? Worth the wait.”
    “A regular Club Med.” Annie scrambled out of the canoe as if the dry ground were the Promised Land. She twisted and bent to stretch.
    “What did you think? We’d have to hack it out with a machete?” When her gaze skidded away, he knew he was right. “You don’t give an inch, do you?”
    “Did you expect me to?” Sweat dripped down her temple.
    He grinned. No, not yet. But she would. He reached out to swipe at the drip. Soft skin. Damn, even that light touch played havoc with his heart rate.
    Stepping back out of reach, she slipped her sunglasses off and let them dangle. With stiff motions, she tugged a tissue from her shorts pocket and mopped at her forehead.
    “Those sore muscles will feel a whole lot better after a rubdown.”
    Her eyes glinted silver with suspicion. “And I’ll bet you just happen to have some liniment.”
    He’d like to see her hair loose and those gray eyes go smoky with passion. If only they were alone. “In my duffel bag. Standard gear for a Maine Guide.”
    “The chances of letting you rub my body with anything are about the same as sharing my tent with you.”
    He affected a hangdog expression. “Nil.”
    She set off with her sleeping bag.
    Not until they’d started to unload the canoes did Sam realize what Annie had done to him. Damn, but she must be a hell of a reporter. He’d started quizzing her and ended up talking about himself. How did she do that? He was lucky he hadn’t spilled his guts about the benders.
    He hoisted the cooler from his canoe and stopped dead. If she’s such a city lover, why’d she leave New York?
     
    ***
     
    Waterville, Maine
     
    Rissa Cantrell stepped out of the oak tree’s shade, but even the late afternoon sun and her new spark of hope didn’t dispel the cold deep in her bones. Standing in front of the brick dormitory where her daughter had lived on the Colby campus chilled her with memories. And speculation.
    In front of her, the pretty senior shuffled her feet. “Ms. Cantrell, I’ve told you all I know."
    “I appreciate it, Caitlin.” Rissa smiled. These days, smiles were a struggle to produce. “But the state police will need to hear it in your own words. Can you describe the man? You and your roommate?”
    “I don’t know. It’s been nearly a year.” Caitlin edged toward the building entrance. “I only remembered because I saw a similar van the other day.