CHAPTER 1

Three Years Earlier

My husband and best friend was dead. Was I angry? No. Was I confused? Yes, but mostly just terrified, petrified, and, oh God, so, so afraid.

I couldn't fight my fear of being alone in a place that every second reminded me I now would be facing life on my own. I made the decision to return to Canada, the country of my birth, after many years in a small Mexican village. At least in Canada I would have a daughter, sister, son, and grandchildren. I would not be alone.

I'd forgotten two important things. One, that being alone and being lonely are two entirely different states of mind, body, and heart. Second, if you run away, you have to take yourself with you. With time, I was to learn both these lessons.

The years had flashed quickly by. Cassy, my daughter, and I had good times. We both loved laughing at foolish things when they hit us funny. Most of the time no one else understood what we were finding hilarious enough to make us cross our legs to keep from wetting our jeans. Cassy's husband, Steve, just shook his head in bafflement, not getting it or us.

I was happy with my family and my apartment, don't get me wrong, but I still had the emptiness inside. My friends were my daughter's friends and in-laws. I needed to renew friendships with people my age, who shared similar memories.

I had loved my three years in Canada with my family, but I needed home, sun, familiar surroundings, and life. I needed to get out of the cold and snow and into the sunshine. Bottled liquid vitamin D just wasn't cutting it.

I made a decision. I'd go back! I'd spend next winter in Mexico, returning to the small village of Bucerias. I was going back, back to my home where I'd have old friends and memories.

Ten months later, I waited for West Jet to depart as scheduled. The two-hour wait at the Halifax airport hadn't been so bad, thanks to wireless. Cassy stayed with me until I had to report to my gate, so we got in a couple of smokes outside.

I know, I know, I shouldn't be smoking, but what the hell. I don't have much else to do, and yes, I know, ha-ha, that's a cop-out! I haven't even tried to quit! Anyway, I wasn't just going for a smoke; Prin had to go out several times.

Everyone still calls it the Halifax airport, likely always will, even though in 2007 the name was changed to the Robert L. Stanfield International Airport. Why they chose a premier's name is beyond me. The airport welcomes over three million passengers annually. That morning it had a nearly deserted lounge. Maybe everyone had earlier flights.

During the thirty-eight-kilometre drive from the city, I missed seeing the dragon's head in Miller Lake. When had the large, green dragon's head gone missing? It was a famous landmark, and the flaring nostrils and two large white fangs were a reminder that soon you'd be high. High in the sky, that is, and on your way.

Scout leaders who camped on the island had anchored it there years ago. The camp, built in1926, had been enjoyed by scout leaders then and scouts now. I wondered why it had not been replaced. Maybe I could find out on the web. That could be an interesting few hours while sitting on the beach with a frosty margarita or bucket of cold beer. I had to remember to put it on my list of things to do when I got around to it.

"Jeez, hope I get one of those round-to-it thingies soon. My list keeps getting longer!" I giggled.

Enough foolish thoughts; I had to think about my trip instead. Important things like what I would order at my favourite beach restaurant for dinner that evening. Mussels? Tequila shrimp? Ohhhhhh, I might have to buy a larger size in jeans if I kept thinking this way.

"I'm leaving on a jet plane—"

Bag checked, customs cleared, bottle of water purchased. Prin and I were just waiting to board.

"All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go—"

The words to the old John Denver song kept running through my head. My trip and vacation were taking off, literally. Oh, I was so excited but also a little anxious at the thought of beginning a new life.

The first leg of the flight went well. Prin was her usual princess self and caused no problem.

The airline was fantastic. After four or five hours of wine, eating, and napping, I gazed down at the land. Alberta, land of oil, beef, cowboys, and so much more. Home to the world-famous Calgary Stampede and home of the XV Olympic Winter Games in 1988, marking the first time that Canada hosted the games. The sixteen-day event transformed the western cow town into a city boasting top-notch sports facilities. All the facilities have remained intact and available for either training or competition.

Calgary is still the Canadian centre of training for winter athletes. It is, as a result, interesting, full of life and history. I'd love to spend some time here and get to know this city better. The layover, however, was only two and a half hours, so my interest would have to wait for another trip.

The airport is one of my favourites, with good sit-down restaurants, fast-food stops, and lots of shops, busy in an unhurried way. It's a pleasant space to spend two to four hours. Most attractive to me, and Princess of course, is the dog exercise area outside! Now how considerate is that? We plan to visit that area several times.

Back on the plane for another four or five hours and then I'd be in Bucerias. Though I knew it would be different after three years, I was so looking forward to that first blast of hot air that hits you in the chest like a five-pound cannonball when you step out of the plane. I'd put a change of clothing in my carry-on so I'd be ready. Yes, I was ready, more than ready, for whatever the next five months would bring.

"Here we go, we're landing! Soon we'll be able to pee."

Shit, I'd said that out loud. I looked at the man seated beside me, and the look on his face was enough to send me into fits of laughter, but I turned away and pretended to look for something in my bag. Darn, I'll have to be more careful. I'm so used to speaking to Prin, I forget I'm talking out loud. I've never spoken to her like a dog, more like a child of two or three years, and sometimes people don't realize I'm chatting to her.

He'd have a funny story to tell his wife about the crazy lady on the plane who thought he'd have to pee. I'd love to be a mouse in the corner to overhear that conversation.

We landed without a bump, and as I looked out the window, I felt a chill with goose bumps running over me! I must be more excited than I thought.

I collected my belongings and put my bag in order. Didn't want to have to look for my papers and carry Prin at the same time. It didn't take me but a couple of minutes because I hadn't loaded down my carry-on.

CHAPTER 2

Trouble Starts

I wasn't disappointed. Even in shorts and a sun top, I got hit with the cannonball of heat! Taking in deep breaths and holding them, I warmed my lungs and blood and hurried for the baggage pickup. All bags look alike to me unless they are brightly coloured, and I had tied a pink ribbon to mine so I could see it coming before it got to me. Going for a bag on a turnstile is the same as putting your hand into the middle of a herd of running horses. I always got the handle and ended up being dragged four to six feet farther along the darn thing before I could manage to swing it off.

I saw the pink ribbon coming that I used to identify my bag and got in position...