Logan's vehicle was headed south. Down the highway toward Cypress Hills—oasis on the Alberta prairie and vacation home of Logan Napier's grandfather and parents.

Logan Napier should have been happy. No, Logan Napier should have been euphoric.

Usually the drive through the wide-open grasslands of the prairies put a smile on his face. The tawny landscape, deceptively smooth, soothed away the jagged edges of city living. The quiet highways never ceased to work their peace on him, erasing the tension of driving in Calgary's busy traffic.

Usually, Logan Napier drove one-handed, leaning back, letting the warm wind and the open space work its magic as he drove with the top of his convertible down.

Today, however, his hands clenched the steering wheel of a minivan, his eyes glaring through his sunglasses at the road ahead. In his estimation a single man moving up in the world shouldn't be driving a minivan. Nor should a single man be contemplating seven different punishments for ten-year-old twin nieces. And his mother.

All three were supposed to be neatly ensconced in the cabin in the hills. He was supposed to be coming up for a two-week holiday, spending his time drawing up plans for a house for Mr. Jonserad of Jonserad Holdings. If he was successful, it had the potential to bring more work from Jonserad's company to his architecture partnership.

Instead his mother had just called. She was leaving for Alaska in a day. Then the tutor called telling him that she was quitting because she wasn't getting the support she needed from Logan's mother. Each phone call put another glitch in his well-laid plans.

He hadn't planned on this, he brooded, squinting against the heat waves t