The sun flooded the room, warming Cherry's face and drawing a smile to her lips as she woke to birds chirping, the breeze playing through the trees and the sound and smell of the crackling fire in the sitting room.

Cherry's eyes snapped open. She didn't put a fire on, so who was in her cabin?

Pushing out of bed, she moved silently to the open doorway, another thing she didn't leave standing open. Stopping at the entrance, she looked around the living area to find Tyron, Silas and Steve sitting on the chairs in the living room, drinking coffee. Frowning, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before padding out and staring at them.

"Good morning," she said, "didn't you lock up last night?"

"We did," Tyron said, "but since everything automated has disengaged, we discovered the door unlocked this morning. It might look strange if we all sat outside waiting for you to wake up."

Confusion ran over Cherry's expressive face, "What do you mean ... wait for me to wake up?"

Tyron smiled, "I see you've gotten your first good night's sleep since arriving here."

"I guess," Cherry looked at the clock above the fireplace. The hands didn't move. She looked around at the others in the cabin, "the clocks have stopped."

"They have," Steve grinned, "the time is nearly one in the afternoon."

"What?" Cherry blinked fast, "no ... that can't be."

Striding to Tyrone's side, she grasped his left wrist, pulling his watch into sight. They were telling the truth; it was nearly one in the afternoon.

"How long have I been sleeping?" she whispered, looking around at the signs of cooking and a meal being eaten, "you had lunch here? Have you been here all morning? What time did you arrive? What have you been doing?"

Tyron and Silas silently stared at her, firing questions quickly; however, Steve nodded, waiting for her to finish her version of the Spanish Inquisition.

"You've been asleep about twelve hours," he said, marking the answers to the questions off on his fingers. "Yes, thank you for lunch, but we also brought supplies with us ... you don't have much in your cupboards, and there is some ready for you to eat. We have been here all morning. Your muffin is waiting for you next to your place setting ... that was supposed to be breakfast. We were here just before six, and last but not least, we have been repairing the side of the cabin, and there are some interesting things you need to see. First, you need to get your boots on, and I'll pour you some coffee."

"You've... been repairing my cabin?" Cherry whispered, stunned at the generosity of these men, "I don't know what to say?"

"Don't say anything," Silas said, pushing slowly out of the chair, "you need to get a new lounge suite. This one is very uncomfortable."

Smiling, Cherry nodded, "Let me get my boots ..." she said, smiling as she moved toward her room but stopped when Tyron called her name. Turning, she found him pointing toward the front door.

"We rearranged things a little," he said, "if you have a real off-the-grid cabin, then you need to have it arranged as such ...and we brought you the family shotgun."

"I don't know how to shoot," Cherry said, frowning, "perhaps you should keep it."

"You can shoot," Silas said, stretching out the cramps in his back, "you just have to jog your memory."

"How do you know I can shoot?" Cherry asked, her brows puckering at Silas' confidence in her ability.

"I know because I taught you," Silas smiled, slipping his arm around her shoulders, "and a darn good shot you were even for a child."

Cherry smiled, "You taught me to shoot? I thought that was Dad."

"Nope, your Dad couldn't fire a starting pistol," Silas said, heading for the front door, "no coordination and kind of scared of firearms."

"Really?" Cherry shook her head, pulling on socks and sliding her feet into the boots. They weren't her boots ... gasping as memories flashed through her mind, she leaned on the cabin wall.

"Cherry?" Tyron called her name as he stood next to her, "are you alright?"

"These aren't my boots," she whispered, "they belong to my mother."

"They may belong to her," Tyron said, shrugging, "I found them among the items stored in the family facility."

"What family facility?" Cherry asked, "where is the family facility?"

Cherry felt a clashing of emotions slam into her; sucking in the air, she waited until she could sense the world around her. Tyron's voice ground her to the present.

"A storage unit attached to the trust," Tyron said, "your mom put a few things in it before leaving that last time. Thought you may like something practical to wear and something that was hers ... you know, keep her close to you."

Cherry smiled, "Thank you, that was so sweet."

"Steve is going to lose a gut if you two don't hurry up," Silas said, from the doorway, "now get a move on."

"I thought he was too old to come up the mountain?" Cherry asked, tying her laces and following Tyron out of the cabin.

"That was when the cabin wasn't "safe" to be around," Tyron said. "He woke us both before dawn this morning and told us we had to be ready to work in fifteen minutes; otherwise, we'll be embarrassed by what he can do on his own."

"Wow," Cherry laughed, "was he keeping his word?"

"Yep," Tyron grinned, "nearly left Steve behind."

Cherry chuckled as they rounded the corner of the cabin and found Silas and Steve discussing the next section of work that needed attention and the logistics around how to get the job done. Cherry stood staring at the progress made while she had slept. Most of the wall was filled in, the wooden frame was up, and a covered section was erected to protect it against the unpredictable elements of the mountain.

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"You have done more than I could have hoped to get down. There must have been a lot of noise," Cherry said, walking down the side of the cabin, her hand rubbing against the wood; she winced as a splinter rammed into her finger, " ouch ... how did you keep from waking me?"

"We didn't try," Steve said, "we've been sawing and hammering all morning, and you slept through it all."

"I must have been exhausted," Cherry murmured, "this looks really good," she smiled at the three men, "thank you."

"We haven't finished," Silas said, "while Tyron and I finish up some more, why don't you go inside with Steve and look through these things we found while working this morning."

Nodding, Cherry followed Steve into the cabin. He put the box he carried on the coffee table, watching her as she wandered to the kitchen, finding the food and dishing it up.

"Hmmm, chocolate muffin," she bit into it, her eyes closing as the dense chocolate taste ran over her tongue. "I don't know what it is, but everything this morning tastes more vibrant ..." she looked around, "it looks more vibrant, feels more ... vibrant ... smells more ... vibrant."

Steve moved toward her, placing the box at his feet as he slid into a chair opposite her.

"How long since you've taken your medication?"

"Medication?" Cherry met his concerned gaze, "how did you know about my medication?"

"I found a bottle in the bathroom this morning," he said, "it had your name on it, but I'm not sure it's yours, or it could be the other families."

"Why do you say that?" she asked.

"It rolled out from under that bathtub," Steve said, putting the empty bottle on the table.

Cherry picked it up, turning the bottle in her hand, "This isn't mine."

"You sure?" Steve asked.

"Yes, if I took this, I'd be dead," Cherry said, throwing the bottle into the trash can from the table.

"Nice throw," Steve said, smiling, "play basketball at all?"

"No, but I can tell you those were definitely not my meds," Cherry said, returning the smile, "my name starts with a CH ... everyone knows it."

"Okay, what was on the bottle?" Steve asked, glancing at the trash can, "I was sure it was that or something else?" he stood, retrieving the bottle, "Huh, it's an SH ..." glancing at Cherry, he frowned, "why didn't I see that the first time?"

"No idea," Cherry said, "but I'm getting rid of everything in that room ... actually ... the entire cabin is going to go."

"You sure?" Steve asked, looking around, "you going to sell everything?"

"No," Cherry shook her head, "burn it and destroy it."

"Wow," Steve's eyebrows rose, "that is ..." he shook his head, "what will you do for furniture?"

"Start over," Cherry smiled, "build my own furniture."

"You're a carpenter?" Steve asked.

"I used to whittle wood when I was studying," Cherry said, spooning food into her mouth, "I can do one or two things and get some items produced."

"We don't have a frontier furniture store here," Steve said, grinning at her mischievously, "I think it will go down very well if you built and sold the items. Old Man Turner still has the tannery working, and his son and grandson work with him ... I'm sure he'd be happy to tan leather for the seat covers."

"You mean make a living from whittling wood," Cherry mused, a thought sparking, but she kept it to herself, "I like the sound of that."

"You never struck me as a small-town kind of girl," Steve said, turning the chair at the table and straddling it, "when I first saw you ... I thought you would be here a week at the most, but we're going on nearly ten days. Sure you're not going to miss the hot showers and warm bathes?"

"I can heat the water over the stove if that is what I'm looking for, but I'd like to find the waterfall we used to visit and hike out there to see the pool once more.

"Waterfall?" Steve frowned, "we don't have a waterfall anywhere near here."

"Really?" Cherry returned his frown, "huh ... I remember us hiking to a waterfall and swimming in it, sleeping next to it in a field of flowers."

"Sounds beautiful," Steve sighed, "I've lived here my entire life and never heard of or found a waterfall anywhere."

"Fair enough," Cherry nodded, "I guess I'll have to keep dreaming about it. What's in the box?"

"Right, waterfalls are done, and the box is in," he stood beating a rhythm on the back of the chair, "let me get it onto the table, and we can go through it."

Cherry watched him pick it up, placing it on the table. A memory flashed of someone else making exactly that motion ... someone older than Steve, with broader shoulders. Cherry closed her eyes as the memory ran its course, she tried to keep with it, allowing it to flow, but it petered out in a puff of mist as Steve dropped the box on the table. Pulling out children's toys, books, stuffed animals and a baby blanket with a picture frame folded inside.

"Where did you find this?" Cherry asked, taking in everything she was seeing.

"We were taking down the damaged wall, and a section of it had a secret compartment," Steve said, tipping the box on its side to show it was empty, "we found this undamaged inside."

Slowly Cherry reached out, tracing the pattern on the baby blanket before opening it and picking up a wooden frame. Cherry looked down at the photo ... memory slammed into her. It felt like she was back in the moment, remembering everything. The meal they had shared with ... Tyron, the games they had played and why they were toasting ... Cherry gasped, her fingers flying to her lips ... it was her parent's anniversary. The event had to be kept a secret for some eluding reason, but Tyron and Silas knew.

"Cherry?" Steve's questions hung on the words.

"My parents and I," she whispered; she didn't move as he came around, looking over her shoulder, "they were so young."

"So were you," he murmured, "with the same colour hair."

"That was two years before we left and never came back," she whispered, "it feels like a lifetime ago."

"That's your dad," Steve said, frowning, "I'm sure I've seen that man before," Steve said, "around this area in the last two years."

"That's impossible," Cherry sighed, "my parents were killed in a car accident."

"Are you sure about that?" Steve asked, "we saw pictures of them downstairs."

Cherry frowned, "I wonder."

She was silent for a long time. Steve wondered if she would continue speaking, "You wonder what?"

"Huh," she startled, "oh just thinking ... is all. These ... all of these ... everything in this box I shall keep," she said, "I remember all of them ... they are mine."

"Awesome," he said, "leave them here or on the coffee table?"

"Would it be possible to build a fireproof compartment in the same place?" Cherry asked.

"I don't see why not," Steve said, "we'll have to chat to my father and grandfather before they get too far in the job."

"Silas, is your Grandfather?" Cherry looked at Steve.

"Yes, he is," Steve said, meeting her strange expressions, "didn't he tell you?

"No," she stood, placing her plate in the sink, "no, he didn't."

"Strange," Steve shook his head, "usually, he cannot wait to chat about our family tree."

"What kind of thing does he say?" Cherry asked, packing the items back into the box.

"Oh, the usual," Steve chuckled, "where we're from, why we came here when we came here ... you know ... that kind of thing. But with you ... apparently nothing."

"Is it strange?" Cherry asked, looking at him curiously.

"A little; Granddad has been weird and strange a lot," Steve said, "but I've grown used to his weirdness. Oh, there they are, banging again. Bring the box; we can ask them about your compartment."