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a mistaken attempt to grow a lumber crop and now dominating the landscape of that area. He punched the code into the gate and the ten-foot-tall cedar edifice retracted, flush with the wall that circled their two-acre property. He drove the rest of the way through a grove of fruit trees and parked in the open garage area that had been one of the first things completed on the new house.
    Keiki, their Rottweiler, greeted him with a single bark, pressing in against his leg as he opened the door of his Bronco.
    “Hey, old girl.” He stroked her head and played with her silky ears. Keiki hadn’t been the same since the house fire, when she’d been traumatized as well as burned. Her energy just seemed lower. But now she scented Ellen and sniffed loudly, shooting Stevens a glance as if in question. “Yeah. My mom’s here.”
    His mother was still asleep in her seat, so Stevens took a moment to look around. His father-in-law’s cottage, where they were all currently residing, was a cheerful little home with a sheltered front porch and two red hibiscus bushes bracketing its steps. Beside him the harsh-looking concrete walls of their new house, built for security and stability rather than looks, were complete. They’d spent extra for a terra-cotta-colored, metal tile roof. Pretty soon, the stucco guys would come and apply exterior texture that would make the house, currently looking like a barracks, more attractive.
    Stevens didn’t much care what it looked like. After living through two fires, he just wanted to sleep in a place where that particular nightmare would never happen again, and if it cost more and took longer, his nightmares might at least decrease.
    He reached over and shook his mother’s shoulder gently. Her bones felt brittle under his hand. “Mom. Wake up. We’re here.”
    Ellen sat up, blinking, and he got out and came around to get her backpack and open her door, surprised when he saw moisture in her eyes as he took her hand to help her out of the seat.
    “Thanks, Michael,” she said. “You know how to treat a woman. I’m thankful.”
    Keiki sniffed around her legs and slowly wagged her stump of tail as Ellen stepped out of the truck with dignity. Stevens felt a tug of soft nostalgia as she took his arm.
    “Where are you putting me?”
    “Well, that’s the thing.” Stevens gestured to the looming bulk of the house beside them. “We’re still under construction here after a house fire, so we’re going to have to put you in a tent out in the yard.”
    He led her across the smoothly mowed lawn, which Wayne kept shipshape, to a large tent, already set up with an air mattress in it, back behind a mango tree. He and Lei slept out there when they needed more privacy than the tight quarters of Wayne’s cottage provided, and it was also a fun place for Kiet to play.
    “This is nice,” she said, looking around the interior, furnished with a patterned rug, a chair and camp table, the already-made bed, and a playpen filled with toys for Kiet.
    “Yeah, this is our little getaway when any of us thinks the cottage is getting too cozy,” Stevens said. “You’ll have to go in the new house for the bathroom, though, but at least the plumbing is in and working there. We’re a ways away from being able to move into it.”
    Stevens decided not to say more, wondering how long she was planning to stay and afraid to ask. He set her backpack down next to the desk and couldn’t miss the longing glance she cast at the bed, like she just wanted to get in and sleep.
    “Come meet Wayne. We’d be lost without his help with the baby.”
    Ellen followed him across the yard, silent as he pointed out the various kinds of fruit trees on the property: breadfruit, mango, Hawaiian orange, macadamia, tangerines, and a stand of coffee and cacao trees in one corner, which were Wayne’s experimental project.
    Wayne met them on the porch, Kiet, crowing with delight, in his arms. The older man’s gaze sharpened as he shook