 
### With This Kiss

### Book 4 of the Southern Exposure Saga

By Lari Smythe

Cover by Lari Smythe

Copyright 2017 Lari Smythe

ISBN 9781370819140 (.ebpub version)

Published by Lari Smythe at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com, or your favorite online ebook store, and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Discover other books by Lari Smythe at Smashwords.com

Lari's books are also available in print at most online retailers.

Dedicated to Leta Fay Faulkner Smith  
April 1927 - October 2016

### * * *

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

The End & Author Info

### * * *

"I will never forget the moment your heart stopped and mine kept beating."  
Angela Miller

### Chapter 1

Jason's mom, Nancy, had been so thoughtful to talk me through cooking Jason's favorite meal for our anniversary. Fortunately, a week ago I tried to cook an out-of-date steak as practice—fortunately because I burned it to a crisp and set off the smoke alarm in our off-campus apartment. At least the fire department wasn't called and I managed to clean and deodorize before Jason got home from football practice. He never had a clue. Today was going to be different. Today, I was going to cook our steaks to a perfect medium rare—I hoped. The Au Gratin potatoes were in the oven, the green beans with bacon simmering, and a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne recently moved to the freezer to make it extra cold.

I glanced up at the clock, time for a quick shower and to change into Jason's favorite lingerie. His choice was—well sweet and suited me fine. It was white silk, but not the thin slinky kind, the heavier, more luxurious kind. It had intricate lace embroidery around the mid-thigh length hem, sweetheart neckline of course, with the thinnest spaghetti straps. I had others that were more _fun_ , but he liked this one the best. I think it was because it was the one I chose for our first night as husband and wife. Hard to believe that was a year ago already.

After I showered, I took a peek at the clock—perfect, still time. I wiped away the fog on the mirror and sat down to put on my makeup just the way Jason liked it, which meant a little heavy on the dark eye makeup. I smiled—he really never got over my first impression in high school—totally EMO. I stood, leaned forward and finished the final touch of red lipstick. As I covered up with my favorite knee-length black sweatshirt, I realized how fast my heart was beating—I really was anxious for the perfect anniversary celebration. Jason wasn't one to forget special occasions, but I hoped at least dinner would be a surprise, the rest no doubt would be incredible.

I returned to the kitchen just as the buzzer for the potatoes went off. I took them out of the oven and set them in the microwave so they could thicken—at least that's what the box said. Once that was taken care of, I set the oven to broil like Nancy had instructed. Since the oven was already hot, it came up to temperature quickly. Should I put the steaks on now or wait until Jason pulled in—or even until he walked through the front doorway? The latter seemed like the best option given the last fiasco. Nothing to do now but wait.

I plopped down on the sofa and tucked my cold, bare feet up under my sweatshirt. Always cold—or hot, there was that, one extreme or the other it seemed. There was studying I could—probably should—do, but not tonight. It could wait. I glanced up at the clock—still half an hour. I'd made a habit of being early for things, partly because I hated to be late—it was rude, and in the case of class, late could get you locked out and a zero for attendance, but the other part, even after more than a year, I hadn't quite adjusted to human speed—or more accurately, human slow. I leaned my head back against the top of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. After awhile, I glanced back at the clock. I swear it hadn't moved.

I thought back a year to our wedding day. I was in an upper room of the church, moments before I would go downstairs to marry the most magnificent man in the entire world, Jason. I was nervous—beyond nervous—I was terrified. I loved him with all my heart, my now human heart, so it was completely ridiculous to be afraid, but I was. My eyes drifted closed.

### * * *

"Jitters?" came a calm, reassuring voice.

"Coach?"

"I didn't mean to intrude," he said as he eased into the doorway.

"No, no, of course not." I turned and the sheer train of my dress wrapped partially around me.

"Could you hold that for just a moment?" his voice was warm and endearing.

I know I blushed; I could feel the heat in my cheeks. Human senses were still so new. They made me an open book at times.

Coach's face filled with a broad smile. After a moment, he said, "Hard to believe you're the same fiery, little girl that stormed onto my football field last year."

"I'm not." My gaze sank from his puzzled expression to the floor.

Coach walked purposefully across the room and then wrapped an arm around me.

"It's time?" I asked.

"No, not just yet."

He would tell me that if it were true or not, because that's who he was—what he did, always there for you.

"Mind if I sit? We haven't even started and my feet are killing me."

"Not at all." Coach stepped back and did the best he could to hold the train of my dress so that I could sit on what could only be called a tuffet, a backless, red-velvet chair that was tucked away by the window of the small room. It made sense now, why it didn't have a back.

I pressed the dress against my hips to keep it from wrinkling as I settled onto the chair. I looked up into Coach's still beaming face. Cathy peaked in through the doorway, smiled with this kind of _I was in good hands_ look before she and Lisa headed downstairs. Coach glanced over his shoulder.

"They dress up nice." He scratched his head. "Never thought I'd see the day those two were together." He hesitated as if thinking, and added, "But then, that's what you've done for this community—brought folks together."

"I never intended—"

"What's eating at you? I know it's not Jason. You two were born to be together and I have no doubt that you and that young man of yours are going to continue a relationship that happens, oh, maybe once every hundred years." He pulled over a chair, spun it around on one leg and sat down straddling the back across from me. "If you'd rather talk to someone—"

"No!"

He waited patiently for me to gather myself.

"It's spring break, Coach."

"And?" He frowned, but not judgmentally, more of a compassionate gesture.

"Well, I feel like Jason and I are in hyper-drive, everything is happening so fast. We're both already enrolled at Clemson for the summer—as soon as we graduate, we're leaving—I mean, what about his mom?"

That brought a smile to his face. "Don't worry about Nancy. I'll take good care of her."

"Are you saying there's more to your relationship?"

He chuckled. "How's Sam and Nancy sound?"

"Who's Sam—No wait, that's you! I never knew your first name. You've always been Coach. Sam, Coach Sam Singleton. It fits you, you know." I tilted my head to the side and raised a brow. "As in Sam and Nancy Singleton?"

A warm smile lit up his face then he leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "We were talking about the future Mrs. Izzy Whitaker. What's really going on?"

I hesitated before continuing. "What about the kids at school?"

"Ah." He nodded. "Now we're getting somewhere." He eased back a little. "As I recall, you talked this over with Principal Moore, and she didn't see any issues."

"Easy for her to say. She's not the one the kids think is pregnant."

His jaw tightened. "First one who says anything like that will be doing laps."

"You can't—"

He chuckled. "I know, but you get my drift. Besides, in a couple weeks you have exams and then you're out of there." He cocked his head to the side. "What else?"

I glanced out the window to avoid eye contact. "Are my parents—"

"No," he replied before I could finish. "I don't pretend to understand the goings on that night in the ICU, but what Nancy said, is that your parents' decision was cast in stone. You miss them—" He slapped his forehead. "Of course you miss them, but don't you think they're happy for the two of you?"

"Yes," I droned my tone lacking sincerity.

"But?"

"I don't know. I just thought—no, hoped they'd come." A tear trickled down my cheek.

"Oh, now-now, we can't have any of that." Coach reached over to the vanity and pulled out a tissue. He gently took my hand in his, handing me the tissue with his other hand.

I dabbed at my eyes trying not to smear the makeup, but he kept hold of my other hand. "Did I make a mess of it?"

"No, you're still perfect." He looked a little uncomfortable for a moment, which was very un-Coach, then got this determined look on his face, got up and started pacing back and forth in front of me. "Sometimes—as a Coach—it's important to know what to, and what _not_ to do, before a game, especially a big game. The boys—let me rephrase, the participants need just the right edge of anticipation and expectation without going overboard and letting it build up. Oh sure, it's a delicate balance, but with experience, we can learn to recognize when we've crossed that line." He came to an abrupt stop. "What we have here is a case of nerves. So, what we need to do is take stock—review the game plan, so to speak."

I couldn't help but laugh. Everything with Coach was wrapped up around football. "Okay," I said, "the game plan. Let's see, you're going to walk Jason's mom down the aisle and then come back for me, right?"

"Yep," he said with a nod.

"And then walk me down the aisle."

"May have to start out in the parking lot." He chuckled.

"What?"

"Quite a crowd."

"But we only invited—" I glanced out the window again. "Is that a television boom sticking up over the trees?" I gasped.

"Sure is. Now, before you get that pretty head of yours in an uproar, the service—as you and Jason planned— is going to be just those who were invited. But once word got out you two were tying the knot, well, everyone just wants to be here, like they were for the two of you that fateful night. I know you remember the candlelight vigils at the school and hospital."

I thought back to Coach standing outside the ICU, clutching his hat to his chest. He'd never looked so vulnerable—so helpless. Despite his vibrato, he was such a gentle man—wise, witty and if I understood him correctly, maybe a permanent part of Nancy's life. It didn't hurt that Jason and I already adored him. "So, I got this?" I clarified.

"You got this. Just do what you did in practice and we'll book a win for the Faulkner's and Whitaker's." He winked and then slid his chair back over next to the vanity.

I spotted the clock on the wall behind him. "Oh my God, we're fifteen minutes late!" I started to get up.

"Whoa, hold on there, take a minute. No one's going anywhere. I want you to enjoy this as much as I know I am. I'll meet you at the top of the stairs." He patted my shoulder. "You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen." He started for the door.

"You're leaving? What if I chicken out?" I teased.

He hesitated—pointed at me with that all knowing look of his. "Not a chance." He nodded and then closed the door behind him.

"Didn't we just say being alone before the big game was a bad idea?" I whispered to the empty room. The television van antenna outside the window drew my attention. This time, it brought a chill as I remembered the night I almost lost Jason.

Jason continued to be apologetic about the sacrifice I made on his account, even though I banned him from talking about it. Despite the loss of my family, and immortality for that matter, there was no other choice, and I think he was finally beginning to understand that I would not—could not exist without him. There was also no denying that I had quite literally been stumbling through life since that day. Even after we bumped heads in the ICU, both Jason and I expected me to have above average human strength and coordination after existing with the enhancements of being a vampire, but there was no way of predicting, and well, it didn't turn out that way.

I slowly rose in front of the window and for the first time, noticed the throng of photographers in the parking lot closest to the church. It was a sea of camera lenses. I waved, like Jason's mom had done from the hospital room window.

### * * *

My eyes suddenly popped open. "What time is it?" I murmured, glancing up toward the clock. The top of the pot on the stove started to jingle as the steam escaped around the edges. Jason was late. I got up and turned down the burner under the beans. Of all the nights to be late, although it did happen frequently if I was being fair. At this level, Division A college level, football was more like a job than a game, but I could tell he loved the challenge. Still, I missed him. Good thing I didn't put the steaks in the oven—caught a break on that one.

I plopped back down on the sofa as the gentle jingle of the pot lid slowly ebbed. I closed my eyes and drifted back to the memory of our wedding.

### * * *

I swear I could hear the clatter of camera shutters before I stepped away from the window. As I turned, I caught the reflection of the back of my wedding dress in the mirror. From the moment Jason proposed, I knew my dress had to be different and the crimson strands, and the meaning behind them were just the special touch it needed. No one had seen the dress since Jason's mom made the alteration. Now that I thought about it, it was odd Coach hadn't mentioned it since he'd seen the unaltered dress during a fitting.

A quick check in the mirror brought a smile to my lips. Was that really me? The bodice of the dress was made from a simple hand woven linen with a sweetheart neckline and thin straps out on the tips of my shoulders. A sheer, V-neck panel above that, was sewn to the straps and held two layers of lace cap sleeves that Nancy had embroidered to look like wings—she still thought of me as an angel. They weren't really my choice, but she was so excited about them, I couldn't say no. Even my hair looked different, smoothed out over my scalp toward the left side with bobby pins until it reached a pearl comb that held back my curls. Around the comb, three small roses were pinned to my hair. I made a quick touch up on my lipstick—red, not black—and I was ready. "Okay," I said to the empty room, "I got this. Please, just don't run down the aisle and make a total fool of yourself."

I stepped out into the empty hall, but Coach was waiting at the far end. He seemed to be speaking to someone rather animatedly. His arms flew up from his sides just before he glanced my way. He turned back to whomever he was talking to and said, "We're ready to begin."

There was a grunt of approval followed by a shuffle of feet down the steps.

I smoothed out the top of my dress, checked to make sure the sleeves were laying as they should and then lifted the sides outward and let the dress fall naturally around me. I took a deep breath and started toward Coach. His smile lit up the hallway.

"Lordy, you are a sight—beautiful! I'm not sure Jason is going to be able to restrain himself long enough for me to get you down the aisle." He chuckled. "I couldn't have at his age." He glanced over my shoulder, presumably at the crimson strands woven into the sheer train.

"Too much?"

He gave me a thumbs up and then offered me his arm. "Shall we?"

As we began to descend the staircase, the organ music faded and a piano picked up the processional Jason and I had chosen. To an outsider, the music might have seemed out of place, but the simple, old southern song was our way of letting Benjamin, Elizabeth and the rest of the Faulkners be with us. I unconsciously began to slow. We were still out of sight from the sanctuary.

"Oh my God!" Lisa exclaimed. "Your dress—I've never seen anything like it."

"Perfect," Cathy added seeing the back for the first time.

Jason's mom appeared from the back of the sanctuary, all smiles. "I'm not Elizabeth with a needle and thread, but is it what you hoped for?"

"Yes, a thousand times over. Thank you, you're amazing." There were hugs all around as the wedding photographer snapped away.

"Alright, ladies," Coach finally said, "game time." He offered Nancy his arm. "Shall we?"

Nancy gave me another big hug. "I love you, Izzy." She straightened out my dress and then turned to Cathy and Lisa. "You girls ready?"

"Yes, ma'am," they echoed.

She slid her arm under Coach's and they started toward the open sanctuary doors.

"I'll be back for you in a minute." Coach winked, and they were gone.

Cathy and Lisa busied themselves making sure my dress was smoothed out and then turned their attention to their own dresses.

"I'm so happy for you," Cathy said.

"Me too," Lisa added.

"Thank you for sharing this special day with me."

They both gawked, glanced at each other and echoed, "You're kidding, right?"

It seemed like mere seconds passed before Coach reappeared. The song changed again and Lisa started toward the doorway. Suddenly, Cathy ran up, grabbed the two bridesmaids' bouquets from the table and handed one to Lisa.

"Nice catch," Lisa said before continuing.

I turned to Coach. "We forgot my—"

He handed me my bouquet of white roses. I looked down to turn it until the two red ones were facing me.

"Like you wanted?" Coach confirmed.

"Yes."

He made a motion toward the doors as Cathy began, matching Lisa's pace. After a few moments, the pianist played a few chords. You could hear the people in the sanctuary stand.

"Ready?" Coach said.

"Ready."

### * * *

"Ready for what?" someone said. "Hey sleepy head, wake up. Don't you know what day it is?"

I didn't open my eyes, but reached forward and wrapped my arms around Jason. "You're home. You're home!" I reared up and we bumped heads.

"Nice," he said, from the floor in front of me.

"I'm sorry, I must have dozed off."

"You've been busy. What smells so good?"

"I cooked dinner, or at least I hope I did. Potatoes, green beans and, if my luck holds, steak, medium rare just like you like it."

"Wow, sounds perfect." He pushed himself up to one knee and extended a bouquet of white roses that surrounded two red ones.

"You remembered." I took the flowers, held them to my face and inhaled deeply. "They're beautiful."

"They pale in comparison." He grasped my left hand, kissed the back of it and then kissed my ring—Elizabeth's ring. "I tried to find a flower—any flower—that was as beautiful as you and, except for some orchid that lasts for about an hour, nothing comes even close, but at least the roses were part of our marriage ceremony. Not bad for a guy, right?"

"Not bad at all."

He rose up and kissed me. I sank back onto the sofa. He nibbled at the crook of my neck for a moment and then pulled back.

"Do I have time for a quick shower? Before dinner." He winked.

"Yes, but it's not really necessary—the shower I mean." I took a slow, inconspicuous breath. It was all Jason, so alluring, hot, but okay, maybe a little on the ripe side.

"How long for the steaks?"

"Three and a half minutes per side."

"And a half." He smiled a playful smile. "You chose a sweatshirt for our anniversary dinner? Or maybe what's under it?"

"Nope, nothing under it," I covered not wanting to spoil the surprise.

"I like the sound of that."

"Well, not exactly nothing," I corrected.

He pouted, sticking out his lower lip. Suddenly his face lit up. "Okay, you said you were ready, so one, two, three, go!" He jumped up and raced into the bathroom.

"No fair!" I called after him, while I ran into the kitchen.

"Don't forget to put the flowers in water," he called.

"That's cheating." I got the only vase we had and trimmed the bottom of the stems so they would fit and then set the bouquet in the center of the table. I checked the microwave. The potatoes were cold so I punched in three minutes to heat them up. While they warmed, I grabbed the steaks out of the fridge and got them into the oven. I glanced up at the clock, this was going to be close.

### Chapter 2

Jason bolted out of the bathroom, headed for the bedroom to change as I flipped the steaks. "Three and a half minutes, come on," I whispered. The table was set, green beans and potatoes on either side of the roses, everything was ready but the steaks.

"Wow, that smells amazing," Jason said as he stepped out of the bedroom. "My mouth is already watering."

I leaned down and pulled out the steaks. As I stood, we made eye contact. The race was on. Jason slid onto his chair just after I put the steaks on the table.

"Beat ya," I bragged.

He rocked back in his chair with a broad smile. "So my chair just happens to be on the opposite side of the table tonight, right?"

"I planned ahead."

He leaned to the side as I slipped around the end of the table to my seat. His brow rose. "I can see that."

I tugged the bottom of my sweatshirt down before I sat. "No peaking. You want to bless it, or should I?"

He grinned.

"Jeeze! The food."

I waited impatiently as Jason cut into his steak. A little blood trickled out onto his plate—at least it wasn't toast. He took a bite and chewed slowly. Okay, is he trying not to gag or does he like it? He swallowed, stabbed another piece with his fork and then stuck that in his mouth.

"Come on, I'm dyin' here?"

He swallowed, set his fork down and then leaned forward and offered me his hands across the table.

"That bad?" I said, laying my hands in his.

"What did you season the meat with?" he asked.

I gulped, he was trying to find a way to be gentle. "Ah, just butter, salt and pepper."

He squeezed my hands. "Perfect," he said with a sigh, "absolutely perfect."

"Just to be clear, you are talking about the steak."

He rose from his chair, leaned forward and drew my hands toward him. After kissing each hand, he eased back onto his chair. "You are amazing."

"You're not so bad yourself."

The rest of dinner was like that, playful banter and teasing—it was wonderful—Jason was wonderful. He offered to do the dishes afterward, but I insisted, so we compromised and did them together.

"Why don't you have a seat on the couch," Jason said as he rinsed off the last pot and grabbed a towel to dry it off.

"The couch? I was kind of hoping for the 'drafting room'."

We had a two-bedroom apartment this year because it became painfully obvious during our first semester that we were not going to get much sleep in the bedroom—the dark circles around our eyes were proof of that. Jason needed a place for a drafting table, so we got a second bedroom for the table and our, 'play bed'. The bedroom was strictly for sleeping and, for the most part, it had worked out—for the most part.

"Anxious much?" Jason teased. "I picked up a little surprise on the way home." He went over to his backpack and pulled out a DVD. "Chick flick!"

"Great idea," I said, trying to not sound disappointed.

He put on the DVD, sat next to me on the sofa and then draped his arm around my shoulders. I cuddled up next to him—maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. He leaned down and we kissed.

"Happy anniversary," he said as he hit the play button.

"Happy anniversary."

I'm pretty sure I made it through the coming attractions—or at least I think I did. I think it was the big meal—which was a total success—yea. I had to remember to call Nancy and thank her. I glanced over at the roses, taking special notice of the two red ones, and then, I was in Never Neverland again.

### * * *

I looked down at my bouquet as Coach and I entered the sanctuary to an audible sigh but waited until we passed the threshold of the large wooden doors before I looked up. I clutched Coach's arm, not because I was scared—I was, but because when I saw Jason, my knees went wobbly. Jason even took a step forward, which made it worse—I was either going to fall in the middle of the aisle or go racing down the aisle to him. The draw between us had never been more intense. This is where we were supposed to be, our lives joined as one. His mom glanced at him, and when she turned back, her face was beaming.

Make eye contact, I remembered the pastor saying during practice. I consciously looked from side to side as Coach and I slowly made our way down the aisle.

Frank from the hospital helicopter and two of the Paramedics from town were in the second to last row. I acknowledged them with a nod. Frank smiled and returned the gesture. We continued.

About halfway to the altar, I saw Doctor Diaz and Nurse Greene from the ICU and glanced up at Coach. We stopped. I slipped my arm out of his and reached over to Doctor Diaz. As we hugged, I whispered to them, "Thank you."

She pressed me back and whispered, "I'm so happy for the two of you."

"So beautiful," Nurse Greene added.

I smiled, slipped my arm back under Coach's and we continued down the aisle, but I glanced back. I wanted to see their reaction to the back of my dress. I wasn't disappointed. They exchanged an astonished glance. We were close enough now that I couldn't help but look up at Jason again. I knew which tuxedo he was wearing, but on the hanger versus on him—not even close. I stumbled on a hem in the carpet but steadied myself with Coach's strong arm.

Jason mouthed, "Wow."

There was light laughter that broke what had become a very serene processional. Coach and I stopped at Jason's mother in the first pew. We were still a good fifteen feet from the two steps up to the altar, but as planned, Coach slipped his arm out of mine. I pressed up on tippy-toes and kissed him on the cheek and then waited until he slid in next to Nancy, who at this point was in tears. I turned toward Jason and the bridal party, took one step and then waited until the pianist finished the last few bars of the song. We'd timed our walk almost perfectly. A faint whisper arose from behind me—I think people were noticing the back of my dress. I looked down at the two red roses in my bouquet, surrounded by white as the pianist began the next piece, Jason and my piece—our song. I slowly looked up.

The minister was in the middle framed by the bridal party, Cathy—my maid of honor, and Lisa on the left. Matt and Alex, the best man on the right. Next to Alex, the love of my life, Jason, my very reason for living. As our eyes met, there was a slight buzz, a sudden pop, and the sanctuary went black.

There was a shriek from the back and my whole body tensed as the nightmare of Home Coming momentarily flashed through my thoughts, but before I could react, Jason was at my side.

"I've got you," he whispered.

"I—I—" My legs wobbled.

"Easy." Jason looked up toward the altar. "Alex, see if you can light some candles."

"On it," Alex replied.

A candle flickered from behind the pastor and one by one, the soft light grew as Alex and Matt lit the candelabras on either side of the altar. The front of the sanctuary now glowed in soft, flickering candlelight.

Coach joined Jason and I. "I imagine the camera crews probably overloaded the circuit," he said.

"No real danger," Jason replied, "I think the breaker just needs to be reset."

"No!" I turned Jason toward the altar. "This is perfect. I don't know why we didn't think of it in the first place. Can't you just picture this in Elizabeth and Benjamin's time?"

"You're right." Jason surveyed the room and then turned back to me with this kind of twinkle in his eyes. "You okay then?"

"Absolutely. Go." I knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Yes ma'am," Jason replied as he retreated up the steps.

"As long as he remembers that, you two will be just fine." Coach chuckled and then added, "Not that there's any doubt."

I playfully slapped his shoulder. "Not funny."

"You sure you're okay?" Coach said.

"Yes, thank you—oh, and don't forget the 'yes ma'am' thing with Nancy."

He chuckled and whispered, "Yes ma'am."

Jason sent Alex and Matt down the side aisles to light the candles on the window ledges. The entire room was soon filled with the soft, warm glow.

Coach smiled down at me and without a word, returned to his place by Nancy's side as Alex and Matt jogged back to their places up front.

The pianist struck a chord and the room quieted back down. After a few bars, she started our song again. I walked to the base of the steps as the song faded to a gentle conclusion.

The pastor made a motion for everyone to be seated. When the clamor subsided, he looked at me and said, "Who giveth this woman to be wed?"

"Benjamin and Elizabeth Faulkner," I answered.

He took one step down, offered me his hand, and then helped me up the steps. The pastor extended his other hand toward Jason and he folded in next to me.

Jason eased back to get a better look at my dress. He lingered for just a moment, then leaned closer to me and whispered. "I knew you and Mom were up to something, but I had no idea—"

"Shh."

The pastor said a few words of introduction and then Jason and I turned so that we were facing one another. Cathy handed Lisa her bouquet and then arranged the train of my dress with her artistic eye, in a sweeping, cascade down the step—not perfect—not messy—artistically perfect. Once satisfied, she took my bouquet and returned to her position.

"Friends," the pastor began, "we are gathered here to celebrate the marriage of Jason Whitaker and Isabella Faulkner." He raised his arms, motioning toward the candles around the room. "It seems that for Jason and Izzy, even the conditions of their ceremony are in our Lord's hands."

There was a combined sigh of acknowledgment.

The pastor gently grasped Jason's and my hands before continuing, "We've all witnessed their incredible journey and the miracle that has brought us all closer to God, but this evening, we are here for Jason and Izzy—two young people, deeply in love, devoted to one another and ready to join their lives as one." He lowered our hands and released them. "I am pleased to say that Izzy and Jason have prepared their own vows. I know I could not have done them justice."

Again, there was light laughter.

The pastor turned toward me. "Izzy, whenever you're ready."

'Whenever you're ready.' Right, my vows—I'd practiced them a million times, they had to be perfect, for Jason. My mind went blank. I looked up at Jason and his warm, understanding expression meant he could see the panic in my eyes.

"It's just the two of us," he whispered.

Without taking my eyes off of his beautiful face, I took a slow, deep breath. A tear found its way down my cheek. I gently took his hands in mine and started. "I—I love—" Everything went black and for an instant, I had the sensation of falling.

### * * *

There were voices, so far away, I wanted to hear what they were saying, but I couldn't get there. An eternity passed before the voices slowly gained clarity.

"She's fine, Coach, just overwhelmed I think."

"Are you sure?" Jason's mom said. "She's so frail, I worry about her. Doctor Diaz is here, maybe we should ask her—"

"I'm fine," I mumbled.

"Izzy?" Jason said.

I blinked several times to focus.

"You fainted. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I just need a minute."

Jason slid his hand under my back and eased me up to a sitting position. "I got her, guys. Just let the pastor know."

"I still think maybe Doctor Diaz—"

"Come on, Nancy, she's in good hands." Coach wrapped his arm around her waist and steered her out of the room.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"It's a waiting room behind the sanctuary—you know, for baptisms. You sure you're okay?" Jason leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.

"I am now—except for the totally humiliating part."

"Nah, these are friends, family, they understand all you've been through."

"We've been, though," I corrected. I took a sip of water from the glass that Jason's mom had obviously left on the small table next to where I was now sitting. She was always thoughtful like that. Are we doing the right thing?"

"What?" Jason recoiled.

"The choice I made, it hurt Benjamin and Elizabeth so deeply. I can't imagine the pain that they carry because of me—for eternity."

"Are you sorry you made that choice?"

"No! Absolutely not. You had to survive, but it wasn't right to not consider their feelings."

"From everything you've told me about that night, you did consider their feelings and they considered what my dying would do to you. Besides, if anyone should feel guilty or selfish, it should be me. You gave up eternity for a mere lifetime with me. The thought of someone as beautiful as you aging and dying because of me—it's—it's selfish at the very least."

I reached forward and stroked his cheek. "I gave up nothing. I would not have survived without you. Only the Faulkners were hurt."

Jason thought for a moment. "Well then, let me ask you this. Do you think Benjamin and Elizabeth are happy for us?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Melanie and Nathan? Tink and Hayley?"

"Sure, but—"

"No buts. Families grow, move apart, but they are always in one another's hearts. Besides, don't you feel their presence at times? I know I do."

"Yes." I lowered my head, shaking it from side to side. "I didn't know you felt them too."

"I wouldn't be surprised if somehow, someway they're here because no way would Melanie, or Elizabeth for that matter, miss your wedding. I bet Elizabeth is thinking she could have done a better job on your dress."

"No, she adored your mother. She would love what she did." I took another sip of water.

"Tell you what," Jason said, "forget the prepared vows, just make it simple. I already know how much you love me."

"Actually, you have no idea." I shrugged. "You sure about the vows?"

"We know—" He made that familiar motion with his hand between us. "This is just for our friends and family. Wing it."

"Wing it—our wedding vows? You're kidding, right?"

"You know what I mean, just relax and be your beautiful self. The rest will just fall into place."

"I hope I've done all the falling I'm going to do for one day."

Jason scratched his chin. A wry smile spread across his face. "Well, there is the honeymoon."

"Don't even think—"

"Yeah, you're right. Could be quite embarrassing."

"Ahhh! You're incorrigible."

Jason stood and offered me his hand. "Can't get there without finishing here." He winked.

"Okay, okay, I get it." What I once innocently referred to as butterflies boiled up inside me. "Well don't just stand there."

Jason helped me up and flashed his pearly whites. "Game time."

"That's not until we're finished here, tiger." I was nice and waited until his blush dissipated before I let him lead me out from behind the altar.

"That's what I'm talkin' about!" Matt yelled, thrusting a fist up into the air.

The guys from the football team and the cheerleaders applauded while Jason and I resumed our positions in front of the pastor. Cathy fixed my dress to imperfect perfection again and then Jason and I turned our attention to the pastor.

"Glad to see you're okay," he whispered.

"Just a little case of nerves."

He smiled warmly and then said, "Whenever you're ready."

'No prepared vows,' I glanced up at Jason and then closed my eyes and imagined it was just he and I—a deep breath and I began, "I'm creative," squeaked out. I cleared my voice and tried again. "I'm creative, and not the best with words—visual expression is my way of communicating. So, I'm going to tell you what went into the creation of my dress."

Jason looked a little puzzled, but his smile and warmth were so overwhelming, I knew he would understand.

"Let me first say, I wear no veil because I bore my soul to you long ago—the good—the bad and everything in between. Besides, a veil over my hair—a puffball." I shrugged.

Matt and a few others laughed.

"Now, about my dress." I took another deep breath. "The two clusters of crimson strands that begin faintly, randomly at the base of the train, represent our individual lives. As they make their way up the train toward the bodice, the many paths of each of our lives intertwine as our focus turned toward one another. They come together at the back of my waist, which represents the day I fell in love with you, with all my being—the many strands of two lives, now one. The wings embroidered into the sleeves were your mother's idea. And while I am no angel, I am never closer than when I am with you. From the back, a single strand of crimson wraps around my body," I grasped Jason's left hand and guided it toward the embroidered heart. "to my heart where you will remain forever. Rich, poor, in sickness and in health, I will love you and cherish you as long as I—forever." I pressed his hand against my pounding heart. I looked up through tear-filled eyes—happy tears—into his smiling face.

A beautiful moment passed quietly and then the pastor whispered, "When you're ready, Jason."

"There was a time I lived and breathed football. Every fiber of who I was, was solely focused on the game, but that all changed with an innocent touch in the hallway at school. That moment altered my life forever. Football? Really? You've shown me—taught me things about myself, life, love, devotion, and despite my human weaknesses, you love me." He glanced at the audience. "We all know what you did for me, everyone here knows about your selfless act of undying love. Although your parents aren't here tonight, I know they will live in our hearts for as long as they beat." Jason grasped my hand and slowly sank to one knee. "I love you, Isabella Faulkner. I've always loved you. Nothing in this, or any other world, will ever keep us apart." Jason rose to stand in front of me again.

"The rings," the pastor said.

Cathy stepped forward with my bouquet and then Jason withdrew the two red roses. Tied to each short stem rose, were Benjamin and Elizabeth's rings. Cathy stepped back as Jason handed me the rose with Benjamin's ring tied to it. Together we untied the rings.

Jason eased forward and gently slipped the rose in my hair. He took my left hand and held the ring at the tip of my finger. After a short pause, he said. "A circle is eternal, like my love for you. With this ring, I pledge my undying love." He slid the ring on my finger next to Elizabeth's diamond.

Since Elizabeth's diamond fit perfectly, we hadn't tried on the bands or had them sized—just a feeling we both had. The ring fit perfectly and with it came a blissful wave of warmth, of comfort and eternal love.

Jason eased back.

I stepped forward and secured my rose to his lapel. Before I could step back, Jason wrapped his right arm gently around my waist. I looked up into his warm, chocolate eyes and melted.

"Izzy?" Jason whispered.

"Right." I held the ring at the tip of his finger and as I slowly slid it on his finger I said, "With each breath, I love you more. I am yours forever more." I could see the same warmth spread through Jason and like my wedding band, Benjamin's fit Jason perfectly.

Jason winked and his smile changed to more of a grin. "That about wraps up the pre-honeymoon nuptials," he whispered.

I must have turned two shades of red.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the pastor said—and I swear he was blushing as well—"With all the blessings of this wonderful community, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

I was already in Jason's arms, so I wrapped my arms around his neck and we kissed. We'd always had a powerful chemistry, even after my change, but this was somehow different and although it seemed totally impossible, even more beautiful. For a moment it seemed as if we were alone, just the two of us, and we shared the sweetest kiss possible. I hated for it to end, but Jason finally eased me back and then set me on my feet.

The pastor draped his arms over our shoulders, turned us toward the congregation and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Jason Whitaker."

The room erupted in applause. The guys from the football team started what sounded like a pre-game chant, while the girls cheered.

The pastor leaned forward and spoke so only Jason and I could hear, "You truly are blessed." With a gentle nudge, he said, "God's speed."

Before we even got halfway down the aisle, our friends and family, unable to contain their enthusiasm, flooded in around us.

### Chapter 3

"Hey sleepy head," Jason whispered, his lips brushing my ear lobe.

"Hey." I blinked several times before I could keep my eyes open.

Suddenly Jason swept me up into his arms and off the sofa. All the college workouts had made him much stronger. "I'm putting you to bed."

"No, wait!" I pressed against his chest. "Put me down."

"It's okay, I know it's been a long day and dinner was perfect. How'd the graphics test go anyway?"

"Seriously?" I frowned. "Put me down, Jason."

"Okay already." He gently set me on my feet.

"Turn around." I made a circular motion with my hand. "Close your eyes and no peeking."

Jason smiled as if he were trying to recall something. "What was it Coach said? Oh, right, 'yes ma'am'."

"Well?" I made the circular motion again. Once Jason's back was to me, I slipped off my black sweatshirt and then smoothed out the silk lingerie I was wearing underneath. I reached out almost putting my arms around his neck. "Okay, I'm all yours."

Jason spun around and opened his eyes—I swear he blushed. He swept me up into his arms, almost before I could lock my arms around him. We kissed, a hot passionate, searing kiss and he started down the short hallway.

"A little drafting?" I teased with a whisper. I kissed him, nibbled at his ear and twirled a lock of his hair around my finger.

"I think we can make an exception tonight." He passed the drafting room and carried me into our bedroom. With our lips locked together, he gently laid me on our bed.

### * * *

Jason was in the shower when I awoke the next morning. I'd hoped I would have awakened in his arms, but I also knew how busy he was—the stress showed. Exams weren't far off and the Spring Game was right around the corner. Hopefully, Jason would make a good showing and get some playing time this season, maybe even a partial scholarship—not that we needed it, but it would be nice for him. They didn't come easy and he'd worked so hard.

I got up, taking the sheet with me and walked over to the window. Sunrise flickered through the leaves of the two large oaks across the parking lot from our apartment. I lay my hand on the window. The glass was cold and gave me goose bumps. This was a beautiful time of year in South Carolina, also unpredictable. The temperature could be in the low forties, even the thirties at night, and creep up into the mid-eighties sometimes by late afternoon. I pulled my hand away from the window, leaving a palm print surrounded by condensation.

"What an incredible night," I whispered.

"I'll say."

"Oh, hey, I didn't hear you come out of the bathroom." I turned toward him and took in his beautiful sculpted chest—the rest was covered with a towel. He was so totally hot. My gaze washed over him until our eyes met.

Jason took a step forward. "Don't—" he started as I let go of the sheet and it slid down my body to the floor.

"Dang, girl!" A voice yelled from the parking lot below, followed by a shrill wolf-whistle.

Jason pulled me into his arms, away from the window.

"That would be—"

"Blake," Jason finished. "Sorry, I tried—"

"To warn me, right. I guess he enjoyed the show."

"What's not to enjoy?" Jason pulled my body tightly against his and we kissed, but I could sense it would go no further. He eased me back, still keeping me wrapped in his arms.

"Busy day?" I asked.

"Blake is picking me up. Obviously, I'm already late."

I wiggled free and avoiding the window, retrieved my sheet and then wrapped up in it again.

"Don't be like that," Jason said.

"I'm not, it's just—"

"I know. I wish last night didn't have to end either, but you're the one—"

"I know. I said you had to try."

"No, you said, 'give it my all'."

"And I meant it. You won't have to ah—red shirt again, will you?"

"You can't." Jason started to get dressed in his workout clothes.

"That's good. It means you'll get to play then, right?"

"No guarantees. There's this new five-star quarterback recruit this year."

"I can't believe he's any better than you. Bet I could march right out on the field and prove it."

Jason laughed. "In your sheet."

I laughed too. "Well, I bet he couldn't complete a pass if I did."

"Neither could I," Jason said. He walked up to me and pulled me into his arms again. "You know I hate this."

"I know, but we've talked about this a thousand times." I gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Listen, we both have exams coming up, you've got the Spring Game—I can't wait to see you play by the way—so let's just be two college kids until then. You do whatever it is you need to do to get ready."

"I know you mean it, but—"

"No, no buts. You do your thing, I'll do mine."

"You are my _thing_." He smiled.

I pulled away as there was a loud knock at the door. "Oh, Izzy!"

"That would be Blake." I sighed.

"Yep. Maybe he thought it was an invite." He winked and then gave me another kiss, stepped away and headed for the bedroom door. "See you tonight."

"I love you."

"I love you. Good luck on that printing test today."

"Is that today? Crap!"

### * * *

Jason didn't do anything halfway. It was one of the things I loved and admired about him, and he wasn't kidding when he said he was going to be busy. For the next few weeks, we only saw each other in the evenings, and then, we were both so exhausted, we usually fell asleep right after dinner.

The week before the Spring Game, Jason didn't come home two nights. We talked on the phone, and while I didn't really understand why the team had to stay, I accepted it. After all, our relationship was built on trust and I trusted him with my life. On the third night, when he did come home, our reunion was almost as sweet as our anniversary night except—I couldn't really say for sure, but there was something, something off. I dismissed it as the stress of the last few weeks.

### * * *

When I awoke on Saturday morning, Jason was already gone. I wish he'd have let me give him a good luck kiss, but he was most assuredly in game mode—where he should be. Today was the big day.

I took the CAT bus because with all the alumni and special activities for the fans on campus, parking would be impossible. I got to class just in time. I'd rather have been at the stadium for some of the pre-game festivities, but class actually turned out to be a welcomed distraction and kept me from worrying about him. He was under so much pressure—I mean, this might be his last shot if what he said was true about the new recruit—five star meant something. It made it worse that the kid was cocky about it. He actually told Jason to get used to the bench—or maybe the stands—it made me so angry. When class was over, I grabbed something to eat at the cafeteria and headed toward the stadium. I was really surprised to see how many fans showed up for more-or-less just an organized practice, even though it was in a kind of semi-game format, but Tiger Fans were something special.

As I approached the area of the stands where the players' families sat, I heard Blake's wife, Betty lean over to one of the parents I didn't recognize and whisper, "Here comes Casper."

Nice. Sure, I was pale or as Nancy referred to it, Alabaster. The funny thing, though—despite my lack of color—I didn't burn. SPF whatever—nope—didn't need it.

"Hey, Izzy. I saved your seat."

"Thanks." I slid in next to Betty. "Blake starting?"

"God I hope so." She moaned. "I mean, like if he doesn't get a scholarship this season, he's going to have to drop out—we just can't afford the tuition."

"No pressure, right?" I waved to the heavyset woman on the other side of her. "Hi, I'm Casper." I glanced at Betty as she grimaced. "Just kidding—I'm Izzy."

"Nice to meet you. Are you with one of the players?"

"Yes. My husband is a quarterback—Whitaker, Jason Whitaker."

"Oh, how nice."

"Is Jason starting?" Betty asked.

"I should think not," the woman said matter-of-factly and then abruptly turned away—sort of a dismissal kind of gesture.

Betty shrugged.

I wanted to punch the lady. I lowered my voice so only Betty could hear. "Jason's worked really hard this entire year, even more so these last few weeks. I guess it's no surprise to you, but he didn't even come home a couple of nights."

"I didn't know that—about the not coming home."

"Really? I thought the whole team stayed—maybe it was just the quarterbacks."

The rotund woman next to Betty glanced at me through the corner of her eye.

"I guess, makes no difference to me. Blake was home every night." She turned to the lady next to her. "So have you heard about the new quarterback?"

The woman said something that I couldn't hear.

"Really!" Betty said. "I swear he's all the alumni are talking about—maybe even an ACC Championship run."

I shut them out, thinking back to what Betty said, 'Blake was home every night'. Jason didn't say the entire team was there, but—well come to think about it, he didn't really offer much of an explanation at all. What bothered me the most, though—why was I questioning his motives?

"Here they come," Betty said as she and the entire stadium stood.

Everyone cheered as the white and orange teams took the field. This was a mock game, with referees and all, but with special rules—my favorite, quarterbacks wore purple jerseys and they could not, emphasis on _not_ —be tackled. Even from the stands, I was amazed how much bigger the players seemed this year. On this level, they were kind of like human freaks, huge, fast, agile, almost monsters—I shivered.

"You okay? You're not sick are you?" Betty said.

"No, no, I'm fine, just a chill." It must have been seventy-five degrees, but Betty didn't question it—like she cared anyway. She was consistent; I had to give her that. "There he is!" I yelled as I spotted Jason on the sidelines. I waved, but he didn't see me—game mode.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but Jason didn't start—it was the new recruit. I wanted to cover my ears as the announcer went on and on about the new kid.

His first play was a simple handoff, but on the second, he rolled left and completed a short pass. The woman, and presumably her husband, jumped up to cheer with most everyone else. Yeah, so I could have thrown that pass, I thought.

The next play started the same, with the quarterback rolling left, but this time, the defense was ready and one of the linebackers—or maybe a safety—I never really could remember which was which, rushed him untouched. I wanted the kid to get splattered, but with the _no touch the quarterback_ rule, I knew that wasn't going to happen—still. The quarterback pivoted awkwardly and collapsed, writhing in pain, clutching his leg. Everything came to a stop as the trainers rushed out on the field. A hush fell over the stadium.

I glanced over, and the woman next to Betty had her hands over her mouth. Her husband was just shaking his head.

"What are you staring at?" she huffed at me.

I didn't think I was staring—I'm sure I wasn't. "Is he your son?"

"Maybe your husband will get his chance now." She turned and followed her husband down the row to the aisle and then started up the steps.

"Okay, that was rude—and awkward."

"Yeah, right," Betty said. "I guess we can kiss a championship run goodbye."

I started to argue the point that Jason was perfectly capable, but decided it wasn't worth the effort—not with Betty.

Once the emergency medical cart left the field, the game resumed with Jason under center this time. He ran two running plays and then they punted. The white team managed a successful drive and kicked a field goal.

On our next possession, the coaches mixed in a few short passing plays, which Jason completed. According to the announcer, one of them was in the perfect spot where only his receiver could catch it. Unfortunately, Jason's next pass was intercepted. Betty gave me this kind of scowl like it was my fault. It looked to me like a miscommunication between Jason and the receiver. Sure enough, on the sidelines, a coach was talking to the two of them.

Jason did well the rest of the half and then they did an intermission/halftime. The announcer gave Jason kudos for a respectable performance but then dropped the bombshell with an update from the hospital. The five-star recruit was done for the season with a torn ACL and probably MCL.

Betty leaned over to me. "You know that kind of injury could end his career before it even started."

"That's horrible," I said. And I meant it.

"Really?" Betty chuckled. "What do you care—I know I wouldn't if it meant Blake would get a scholarship."

Yep, that was Betty. I just let it go.

"Want a soda?" I asked.

She hesitated.

"My treat," I added.

"Sure! It's really hot, a large one would be great."

"Right." I got up and headed for the concessions.

I was hungry, even though I'd eaten at the cafeteria a short time ago, so I also bought us both hotdogs and then headed back to my seat. I was just entering the tunnel when the stadium erupted in cheers. I made it about halfway to the opening into the stadium when the announcer yelled, "That's impossible!" The fans roared again as they presumably showed a replay on the end zone big screen. I was too far from the entrance to see it.

"Can anyone feel another championship coming on?" the announcer said.

Everyone cheered again as I emerged from the tunnel. Jason's team, the orange, were lined up for an extra point. I hurried to my seat.

"What'd I miss?"

"Is that for me?" Betty asked.

"Sure, here." I handed her a soda and one of the hotdogs. "What'd I miss?"

"Oh, the game. The orange team got a touchdown. It was a pass. I think Jason threw it."

"That's great!" I squealed. "It must have been something the way everyone cheered."

"I guess." Betty stuffed half the hotdog in her mouth and took a bite. "No mustard," she mumbled.

I sat and took a sip of my soda intently watching the big screen, but they didn't show another replay. Even so, watching Jason, I could tell he was really charged up—he was playing great—better than great. His movements were noticeably quicker, sharp and he was executing his role with unmatched precision. He'd been presented an opportunity and he was making the most of it, just like in high school.

After the touchdown I missed, Jason's orange team seemed like they were on a roll, and it was clear the coaches liked what they saw as they called more and more challenging plays. In the last quarter, Jason even took a few snaps on the white team and did just as well with the exception of a dropped pass that really should have been caught. It wasn't until then that I realized the orange team was probably the first string—or starters to put it another way. Jason was playing with the first string! This was beyond awesome. He was going to get his start and who knows, maybe even a scholarship. This, no doubt, was going to be a special night.

I think the fans knew something special was happening too because almost all of them stayed to the very last play. Last year, by the third quarter, at least half the fans had left. Not this year.

"Where'd that Whitaker kid come from?" one of the alumni a few rows up said.

"Yeah, where was he last year?" someone else said.

"They redshirted him," another guy said in what distinctly sounded like disbelief.

"Yeah, yeah, that's right. Don't know why, though," the first guy confirmed.

"Well, that about wraps it up," the announcer said. "Have a safe trip home and we'll see you this Fall. Go Tigers!"

Betty got up with everyone else. "You coming?"

"Nah, I think I'm going to just sit here and finish my soda." I looked up at her. "Was Blake on the orange team?"

She looked puzzled. "Most of the time, I think."

"Good—that's good."

"If you say so. See ya."

"Bye."

The sun was setting over Lake Hartwell in a beautiful golden, Clemson-orange glow. It reminded me of the sunset in Georgia—from the riverbank. We'd faced a lot of adversity back then—not to mention Jason had been shot, but that moment on the riverbank was so special, endearing. I would never forget it. This might also be one of those moments—no adversity like back then—just the payoff for a lot of hard work and dedication—a golden moment to cherish for sure.

### Chapter 4

A low bank of clouds rolled in so quickly, it eclipsed the sunset, and with the twilight, came a chill. It was going to be a cold night—but not at the Whitaker home. I smiled.

"Sorry Miss, you'll have to move along. It's almost six o'clock and the stadium was supposed to be emptied by five."

"I'm sorry." I got up. "I didn't realize it was so late." I followed the security guard up the concrete stairs. "You wouldn't happen to know if the players are still here?"

He stopped and turned back toward me. His face was red and he seemed to be having trouble breathing. He grabbed the back of one of the bleacher seats to steady himself. He held up his hand to indicate he needed a minute. Just then I spotted another security guard in the tunnel.

"Officer! Officer, down here! I think this man needs help."

The other security guard walked to the edge of the tunnel, but when he saw us—well the other officer probably—he dashed down the stairs toward us.

"Stan, you don't look so good," he said to the man struggling to breathe. "Take a load off." He more-or-less pushed Stan down onto the bleachers. Once Stan was sitting, he keyed the mike hanging from the shoulder of his uniform. "I have an officer in need of medical attention in Section CC, lower deck."

"On our way." An answer came promptly.

The officer looked over at me. "Thanks, kid. Stan's had some heart problems—he's got a wife and two kids—you just might have saved his life."

"I guess it was a lucky thing I was late after all."

"Darn tootin'."

"My husband is with the team, are they still here?"

"Husband, huh. Well, if you were hopin' for an autograph, I think they've all left. If any of the boys are still here, they'd be down by the back gate."

"Okay, thanks." I flashed my rings at him. "I really am married to one of the players—Jason Whitaker as a matter-of-fact."

"Well, is that so? Maybe I should be askin' you for your autograph. That husband of yours looked real sharp out there—might be one heck of a season."

"Thanks again." I started back up the steps. "I hope Officer Stan is okay."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, thanks to you."

I passed the paramedics on my way through the tunnel. When I got to the gate, there was no one there except a cleaning crew emptying the trashcans. It was odd I missed Jason—even odder he didn't at least call. I pulled my cell phone out of my back pocket. As I unlocked the screen to call him, I noticed a Rover driving across the parking lot. "Jason?" I ran toward where the parking lot intersected with the main road. "Jason!" I waved.

The Rover didn't even slow down for the stop sign, forcing another car to skid to a stop. It was close, too close, and totally not Jason, so it must have been someone else, but before the Rover disappeared from view, I recognized the Maryland license plate. It was Jason—or at least his Rover.

I quickly dialed his number. It rang and rang, and finally went to voice mail. "Hey, sorry I missed you after the game," I said. "I waited at the stadium. You were incredible like I knew you would be. I'm so proud of you. Well, guess I'll see you back at the apartment. I love you. Oh, it's like almost six-thirty, if that's important. I took the bus so it may take me a little while to get home. Love you, bye." I tapped the end icon and slipped my phone back in my pocket. It was almost dark because of the thickening cloud cover. The chill gave my arms goose bumps. I headed for the closest CAT bus stop.

### * * *

Once I was home—alone, the hours crept by. I called Jason two more times, but just left the message, 'I love you.' I was at a total loss as to what was going on, what was wrong, but there was definitely something wrong—that scared me. At home, alone, waiting for Jason, an all too familiar occurrence over the last few weeks. Suddenly my cell phone lit up. It was a text from Jason.

"Finally!" I tapped the messaging icon.

I love you, be in touch soon. Was all it said.

"Soon?" I puzzled, tossing my cell phone on the end table. "Ten minutes—an hour—even two, but what the heck does _soon_ mean?" Whatever it meant, my _scared_ just became _terrified_ and I still couldn't explain why.

I tried to brush it off. It was probably a team party, or he had to stop at the library—there were the two nights he hadn't come home and that was no big deal—but then, Betty said she didn't think any of the other players had stayed. Did he lie? But why? This is exactly what I was afraid of, my imagination was getting the better of me. "Calm down, girl." This is Jason you're thinking about. Remember, the love of your life. You're the love of his life.

I poured a bowl of cereal, a splash of milk with one ice cube and sat at the table to eat. The roses were gone—all but the two red ones and they were still in the center of the table in a Clemson cup. It was eleven-thirty. How was that even possible?

When I finished eating, I washed out my bowl and did the rest of the dishes. I wiped down the counter and put everything away. Finally, when there was no more busy work, I plopped down on the sofa. I fought to suppress the fear I felt deep down, but I just couldn't. There was going to be a perfectly good explanation—perfectly good—once Jason got home. Somehow, I fell asleep.

### * * *

My phone rang, waking me from a restless sleep. "Jason!"

"Hi, sweetheart."

"I like the sound of that. Where are you? What time is it?" I looked up at the clock, it was one thirty in the morning.

"I'm standing outside the front door."

"I like the sound of that even better." I flipped myself over the couch and sprang to the door. When I flung the door open, he was standing there with two milkshakes.

"I love you," he said. His dark chocolate, eyes were heavy, weary, but something else, something I hadn't seen before, something I didn't understand.

"Thank goodness you're alright." I grabbed him and pulled him inside. A little kick closed the door. "You are alright?"

"I'm sorry—and stupid for not at least calling you. Can you ever forgive me?"

"I'm sorry too," I said, "I let that crazy imagination of mine get the better of me—and then there was Betty—can you ever forgive me?"

We kissed and then I followed him over to the sofa where he set the milkshakes on the end table. We sat down next to each other.

"Our usual?" I asked.

"Yep, strawberry." Jason pulled me into his arms. "God I missed you." He kissed me before I could respond. It was a fiery kiss, a passionate kiss, a kiss laced with... fear—why?

"You're hurt?" I said, pulling back, but staying in his arms.

"No, nothing like that. You said something about Betty?"

"Yeah, we sat together at the game." He was fishing for something.

"Well, she's not the brightest when it comes to football—not like you."

I chuckled. "No, she's not." Definitely fishing—for something I should know.

Jason grabbed a milkshake, handed it to me, and then grabbed the other, never letting me out of his arms—which is exactly where I wanted to be. He tapped his milkshake against mine in a kind of toast. "I will always love you."

"I will always love you," I echoed back.

The milkshakes were thick, he hadn't had them very long. They had nothing to do with him being late—no, more of a peace offering maybe—what was I missing? There was an awkward silence.

"You were magnificent today," I said.

"After Nichelson's knee blew out."

"Is that what happened? I mean nobody touched him, he just collapsed."

"Yeah, pretty much." Jason took another sip of his milkshake. "I mean the guy was pretty cocky, and well, a jerk to be honest, but nobody wants to see something like that happen."

"You're thinking about high school when Derrick broke his foot, aren't you?"

"I guess. Kind of coincidental, don't you think?"

"Maybe, but I don't see why it matters? You were presented with an opportunity, and from what I saw, you made the most of it."

His smile seemed forced. "Sure, 'presented'."

"Did the coaches talk scholarship after the game?"

"No, not exactly—we didn't—I mean, I suppose— yeah, probably."

"That's wonderful, you've worked so hard." And that little nagging doubt deep inside got me to add. "You even stayed with the team those two nights." Guilt washed over me as soon as I said it.

Jason looked a little uneasy but glossed over it. "So did Betty realize that Blake was playing with the first string most of the game?"

"Betty?" I laughed. "You said it yourself, 'she's not too bright when it comes to football'. I told her after the game." I took another sip of my milkshake. "She told me earlier that if Blake didn't get some kind of scholarship, he would probably have to withdraw."

Jason nodded. "Well, I don't think she has to worry about that."

"So, if I understand you, Blake got an offer, but you didn't?"

"I didn't say that—it's complicated."

"You didn't turn it down, did you?" I pulled out of his arms and stood. I knew they only had a limited number of scholarships. "You'd do that—for Blake—I know you. You worked so hard, you deserve the recognition."

"Hey, hey, hey, don't get that pretty head of yours in an uproar. Just a few weeks ago we were talking about just getting an opportunity to play, right? I got that opportunity." He grasped my hand and stood.

"Right, I'm sorry." I stepped into his arms and he pulled me close. "You're too good for me."

He kissed me. "Don't ever even think that," he said with a touch of anger. "If anything, it's the other way around; you're too good for me."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled his face down to mine and kissed him. It was a deep, passionate kiss filled with longing—with forgiveness.

Jason wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me off the floor. "What was that all about?" he said once I'd come up for air.

"Really?"

"I don't know, I have homework," he said.

"You're serious."

"Yeah." He grinned and abruptly swept my legs up into his other arm so he was holding me like a baby. "Yeah, drafting homework." He winked. "Might take all night."

"Wait a minute," I complained. "You weren't finished telling me about the game."

He looked puzzled. "You saw the game."

"Not your first touchdown pass. I was getting a soda."

A kind of realization momentarily crossed his face, quickly replaced with an enticing smile. "Really? Right now, at this very moment, you want to talk football?"

I know I blushed. I could feel the heat in my cheeks.

"Let's take this to more comfortable accommodations, shall we?"

My feet drug along the wall of the narrow hallway. When we got to the _drafting room_ , I put my feet on either side of the door frame before he could turn into the room.

"Change of heart?" Jason teased.

"Not exactly. Our bed is much more comfortable and well, you did say, 'this could take all night'."

"I see your point—an all-nighter can be quite fatiguing." He grinned that playful, confident, loving grin that I so adored.

I reached up and kissed his cheek.

Jason lifted his arms and I turned my neck so he could kiss me just under the ear. He nibbled a little, then kissed me again, but this time, he sucked hard.

"Playing vampire?" I teased.

He didn't stop.

"Don't Jason, it'll leave a mark—we're a little beyond the hickey stage."

Finally, he released, but stayed too close for me to really focus on his face. He rested his forehead against mine. I could sense a change come over him. It wasn't something I could quantify, but it was definitely there—a calming maybe. His taught muscles ever so slightly relaxed. He just stood in the doorway to our bedroom, holding me.

"Um, about that homework?"

His muscles tightened, he carried me across the room and then playfully tossed me onto the bed, flexed his torso muscles—I think the back of his shirt split—and then he suddenly ripped off the remnants of his shirt. He was definitely wound up, but then, so was I.

The night sky was blossoming into deep shades of lavender before we finally fell asleep.

### * * *

The morning sun washed over me, turning the inside of my eyelids crimson. Morning? Already—no, wait, it's Sunday. Is that the shower? I opened my eyes, quickly turning my face away from the sunbeams that streaked through our window—the window where I'd given Blake a show. He wouldn't say anything to Betty, would he? Is that why she was like—no, now that I thought about it, she was always like that. If it weren't for Jason and Blake, we wouldn't be friends.

The shower. I went to roll over and couldn't—I was so stiff. Nothing hurt, I was just stiff as a board. I slowly flexed my fingers, releasing the tightness in my hands, and then rolled my wrists. Toes and ankles were next and then I bent one leg up at the knee. The shower stopped. I tried to twist my torso and roll onto my side, but couldn't. Okay, this might look bad. Last night was special in a kind of different way. Our honeymoon in the Faulkner house was magnificent, a culmination of years of anticipation, against all odds, a beautiful, tender moment I will cherish to the end of my days. Last night wasn't that. I couldn't let Jason see me like this. We could talk about it later when he wasn't so vulnerable, and I definitely had the feeling he was very vulnerable. Besides, sure it was different, but it was incredible too. I grimaced as I forced my upper body toward the window. "Ouch," I whispered and then rolled back in the other direction. As the sunspots disappeared, I saw Jason standing in the doorway to the bathroom. His gaze bore into me.

"I hurt you." His head drooped as it shook from side to side.

"No." The twisting really helped with the tightness and I felt almost completely relaxed. I rolled onto my stomach and then folded my arms so I could rest my chin in my hands. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" I countered.

Jason looked up with an expression of relief, or perhaps doubt.

"Dressed? So soon?" I teased.

He walked over slowly and then sat on the edge of the bed. His head remained down as he spoke. "I wish there was a way I could explain just how much I love you."

I rolled over so my head was on his lap and I was staring up into his eyes—very troubled eyes. I smiled. "I know, Jason, I know."

A brief smile seemed to reassure him—lightened whatever problem he was facing.

"You know I'll love you forever. Well—yes, forever."

He smiled again, a tender smile this time. "I do." The momentary calm that filled his face faded. He gently slid out from under me and stood. Before he could step away, I reached up and grasped his hand.

"Are you okay?" That was dumb—of course, he's not okay. "I'm fine, really." I pulled against his hand, swung my legs off the bed into a sitting position and with my other hand swept the sheet across my chest. "Really."

He didn't react.

"You know, I'm here for you if you need to talk, or anything, anything at all."

"Uh, last night, when I was late, I was trying to get some issues worked out—Coach said I had to go home and get some sleep—he insisted."

"Didn't get much of that." I rolled my eyes.

"Izzy, this is seriou—" He stopped himself.

"Okay." So at least I knew he was with his coach, but what issues? The scholarship, could that be what's bothering him? That was a good thing, right? "I have a ton of studying to do," I offered. "If you give me a few minutes to shower and get dressed, we can make a day of it."

"Can't," he said with finality.

"Why?"

He squeezed my hand, tenderly and looked down on me in what appeared to be agony. It looked as though he was trying to resist, but he slowly leaned down and kissed me. And then, as if he could no longer contain himself, but was trying, swept me up off the bed—sheet and all—and pulled me into a beautiful, heart-pounding kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck—ran my fingers through his damp, hair and reveled in the moment.

When he broke off the kiss, it almost looked like he was about to cry. He set me gently on the edge of the bed.

"We're fine," he said, making that motion between us like he did in high school.

"We're fine." I agreed. "Are you?"

He glanced down at his wrist—the watch Benjamin had given him—he never wore it, who needed watches with cell phones? "I have to meet with the coach." His walk across the room was resolute, determined, and forced. He lingered in the doorway for a moment.

I did my best to smile, but I was worried, worried sick.

"I'll call you in a couple of hours." He looked at me with such intensity. "A couple of hours."

"Okay, I'll just be studying my little head off. I love you."

He turned to go, but stopped, turned back as a smile slowly filled his face. It was almost like he was capturing the moment, and then, he left.

### Chapter 5

'A couple of hours,' he said. I looked up at the clock again. It was already three o'clock. My phone sat silently on the table next to my drawings. No texts, no voicemail, nothing. I looked back at my drawing of Jason, it sucked. As a vampire, I'd been able to do the most beautiful renderings—or at least that's what everyone said, but since that time, I just didn't have it. My professor said I did nice work and his critiques were helpful to a point. No matter how I looked at it, though, I just couldn't measure up to my former self. Was that it? Jason experienced a breakout game—did I no longer live up to my former self in his eyes—the self he fell in love with?

"Augh!" I ripped the page out of my sketchpad, wadded it up and then tossed it into the pile of previous attempts scattered around the trashcan. The realization that Jason's issue might be me, got me thinking about the game. What was it that suddenly propelled him into this dilemma? I saw the whole game—wait, no I didn't. I didn't see his first touchdown pass, the one the announcer called 'impossible'. Come to think of it, that was an odd way to describe a play. Why was it impossible? Maybe I could find a video on Tigernet.

Just as I reached for my phone, it rang. "Finally!"

"Hey," Jason said, "how's the studying going?"

His voice was like music to my ears. "No matter how hard I try, I can't draw. It's a total waste of paper."

"That's not what your professor says, right?"

"I know, it's just I used to—"

"Things change, you have to learn to accept the cards you're dealt."

"Are we still talking about art?" I puzzled.

"Yeah, sure, what else?" He hesitated like he was waiting for something. In the background, there was a hammering sound like the Jake-brake of an eighteen-wheeler.

"Are you on campus?"

"Um, not exactly." There was a pause. My question must have caught him off guard.

"Hello, you still there?" I asked playfully.

"Yeah, sure." A car door closed, and I swear it sounded like his Rover started.

I refrained from asking where he was; somehow, I didn't think I wanted to know.

"You remember our spot on Lake Hartwell?"

"The secluded cove, that sounds wonderful."

"Meet you there in two hours."

"Two hours?"

"Meet me, Izzy."

"Of course. I'll bring a blanket, it's supposed to be chilly again this evening. You want me to pick up something to eat, maybe chicken?"

"No, don't make a fuss over it, just meet me."

"Sure, I can't wait to see you."

It was silent for a moment, then the phone clicked dead. That was—weird—scary maybe? There was nothing to eat in the apartment, so I drove downtown and had two slices, of what had become Jason and my favorite pizza. Afterward, I walked from one end of College Avenue to the other to kill time and avoid dwelling on the phone call. Ultimately, I got to our special cove half an hour early.

The water looked so tranquil—so inviting, but it was early Spring and the water was still cold—human cold. I thought back to our rendezvous at the park, outside of Boonsboro, when we were on the run from the motorcycle gang. Water temperature didn't matter then and I'd hid under the surface waiting for Jason's arrival. Wouldn't it be cool if I could do that whole emerging from the tranquil water thing? I know he would remember.

One toe in the water and I knew there was going to be no repeat performance. Human came with so many limitations.

I stood on the bank and watched as the rose colored clouds faded to gray and darkness painted the water in ever deepening tones of green, brown and purple. The sound of tires on the gravel parking lot drew my attention. "He's here," I mumbled.

Moments later a door closed. I was going to call out to him, but I could see he was on his way down the bank.

"There you are," I said as he emerged from the thick underbrush.

He continued toward me but stopped at least ten feet away.

"You've always been more beautiful in nature," I said. "I don't know what it is, but it is definitely your element." I used my fingers to make a little box like I was composing a picture.

Jason glanced up at me for just a moment before his gaze settled back to the ground between us. "I can't—" he whispered. "It was better the other way—man up—do the right thing," he mumbled. This time, when he looked up his eyes glistened with moisture.

I took a step toward him.

He shook his head. "No, Izzy," he choked on my name.

"Okay." The last hint of light lit his face.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered as his gaze sank back to the ground.

I tried to ease closer, but when I did, he backed away. Whatever this was about, suddenly felt very ominous.

"Jason?"

"It's no good, Izzy."

"What's no good?"

He motioned between us.

"I don't know how it could be any better?"

"It was—"

"Was?"

"I can't anymore, I just can't." He drew in a long, labored breath.

Tears started to stream down my cheeks. My heart knew something I'd yet to comprehend. He couldn't possibly be—

"I have to leave—"

"Okay, it's not the end of the world. I can withdraw from classes online—"

"You," he finished, "I have to leave you."

The words hit me in the chest like a three hundred pound linebacker. I couldn't breathe. "Why?" I gasped. "If this is about last night—"

"It's not. Ever since—you're too vulnera—" He shook his head. "I can't be with you."

I couldn't fight the heartbreak any longer and collapsed to my knees in tears. Jason took a step toward me but stopped. He was fighting it, but I know, I could feel it, he was crying too. "It's me, isn't it? I'm not good enough—"

"No!" He clenched his fists by his sides, his knuckles turning white. "No," he repeated in a softer voice. His hands relaxed and he drew in a deep breath—a breath of resolve. He scanned the area around us. "Don't stay long, I don't want you to be out here alone."

"You're leaving me! Why do you care what happens?" I screamed. "You don't, or you'd realize you just killed me. Vampire, human, it doesn't matter. You know I can't live without you."

He took a step back.

"Don't, Jason. Please don't do this."

His hand drifted forward as if he were going to reach out to me. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you." He backed away to the edge of the underbrush.

My tear soaked face sank into my hands. When I looked up, he was gone. His Rover started, but he hesitated for a moment and then abruptly peeled out in the gravel parking lot.

"No! No! No! This isn't happening." I ran—more like stumbled—up the dark, rock-strewn path to my car. The powerful V8 instantly came to life with the turn of the key. I slammed it into gear, peeled out in the gravel and then caught rubber when I grabbed second gear on the pavement. I sped past an old man loading his boat at the boat ramp but had to slam on the brakes at the intersection with College Avenue. "Okay, which way? Wait a minute, I thought back to his earlier call and the sound of the eighteen-wheeler, then he said, 'two hours'—he'd left, but come back to explain. I pounded on the steering wheel. He didn't explain anything, he just said, 'goodbye'. I could hardly see through the tears. Maybe a rest stop but where? North, he'd go north, toward home.

I hung a right and raced across the bridge over the cove, then under the railroad tracks toward campus. I ran the red light, but over-steered and wound up doing a one-eighty in the middle of the intersection. With my rear tires still belching plumes of white smoke and rubber, I caught it and headed down Route 123 toward Easley. The speedometer hit 80 MPH when I noticed the faint flicker of blue lights in the distance behind me. Great, the campus police. No matter, I would be out of Clemson in no time.

Route 123 is two lanes of asphalt that run through the middle of nowhere. Despite the slight fog forming close to the ground, I was doing 110 MPH when I passed under the Issaquena Trail overpass. Three police cruisers came down the ramp in pursuit. I punched the accelerator to the floor with all my strength and my thoroughbred leaped forward with even more speed. The cruisers were no garden-variety cars, though. They closed the distance between us and then matched my speed. It occurred to me, as I passed the glow of animal eyes in the forest along the roadside, that an accident at this speed could possibly be fatal. I glanced in the rearview mirror again and wiped my eyes. The police were still with me, but no closer. That was probably a bad thing.

As I feared, the overpass in the distance ahead was sparkling with red and blue lights and, the lanes—my lanes, were blocked. I froze for a moment not knowing what to do. At 100 MPH, a moment is an eternity. I'd never driven this fast as a human. I knew there were special things you had to do, things Tink had taught me, things that came naturally then, things I couldn't remember, and like an idiot, I downshifted. Wrong! The engine redlined before the rear tires broke traction and the car began a long, sweeping skid. I tried to correct and, of course, over corrected. If there was a good thing, I scrubbed off at least thirty miles an hour. Still, this was probably going to turn out bad—or maybe good considering what had happened. I just hoped I didn't hurt any of the police officers. It didn't matter what happened to me now. "Why Jason?" I cried through tear-blurred eyes.

The car lurched, dirt and grass flew up the side like an ocean wave as I veered into the median and clipped the cable safety barrier. As the car spun, the police cars that were behind me, momentarily became visible through the windshield. They were much closer. The car bounced, was quiet for an instant—airborne—definitely bad. "I love you." I closed my eyes resolved to whatever was about to happen and pictured kissing Jason's beautiful face. The car landed on its side, then everything went black.

### * * *

My first notion of consciousness was the steady pulse of a heart monitor. I wasn't dead. I'm not sure how I felt about that, but then, a car accident would have been too easy. I didn't have that kind of luck. I'm not sure, but I think there were voices. I took stock—I could feel my legs, arms, my chest rose with a breath. There didn't seem to be any pain. Was that good or bad?

"Jason?" I whispered as tears began streaming down my temples.

"Nurse," a female voice said, "I think she's coming around."

A shadow moved across my closed eyelids, presumably to check the hospital equipment. I must be on some kind of pain medication because I was so groggy. I wanted to open my eyes, but I couldn't. The shadow moved away.

"I'll alert the doctor."

"What in the world could have happened?" the female voice said, getting closer again. "And where is Jason? Why isn't he here?"

"Be patient. I'm sure she will fill us in as soon as she's able."

Coach? Was the other voice Nancy's? How long had I been out? I managed to force my eyes open to Nancy's worried face.

"Thank God," she said. "Izzy, do you know who I am?"

"Nanc—"

"Please excuse me ma'am," a different masculine voice commanded.

"Yes, of course," Nancy said. "She tried to speak. I think she recognized me."

My eyelids were forced open wider to a blazing light that flashed side-to-side and then released to close again.

"Ms. Whitaker. Ms. Whitaker, can you hear me?" the doctor said.

"She goes by Izzy."

"Izzy, if you can hear me, try to squeeze my fingers." There was suddenly something in my hand.

I tried hard, but could only manage a feeble attempt. The effort did something, I'm not exactly sure what, but I felt like I was being stabbed with a thousand needles. My body tensed and then my arm jerked, but it only moved a little before it was stopped. I yanked my other arm—the same. I was shackled. Suddenly, I remembered the historian and the horrible place where he had kept me prisoner. With all the strength I could muster, I heaved my body upwards to one side and then the other. The restraints dug into my wrists and ankles as I continued to thrash.

"Izzy!" Nancy cried.

"Please, ma'am," the doctor said.

My body went limp, the pain faded and I slipped back into unconsciousness.

### * * *

I'm not sure how much time passed before I slowly began to regain my senses, but this time, the room was quiet. I tried desperately not to over react. I tugged gently—the restraints were still there. Then, I noticed faint voices whispering.

"She has to come around, we have to find out what happened, what happened to Jason."

"I think she just needs a little time. The doctor said she was going to be okay, physically."

What did that mean? Do they think I had some kind of breakdown and that's why I was driving so fast?

"She's strong," Coach Singleton said, "she's always been a real fighter."

"I know that. After what she went through in the hospital with Jason, I know, believe me, I know, but she's been through so much. Too much."

I opened my eyes just a little and saw Coach pat Nancy's knee. I tugged harder at the restraints.

"Izzy?" Nancy quickly scooted her chair closer to my bedside. "It's Nancy, Jason's mom. Are you alright? What happened? Where's Jason?"

Jason leaving me and the accident all came crashing down at once. I thrashed at the restraints. "No! No!" I screamed.

A nurse, and a man in a white coat, presumably the doctor, burst into the room.

"Let me go!" I screamed. "Let me go!"

The nurse made a move toward my IV stand, but Coach intercepted her, blocking her path.

"Please, Sir. It's for her own safety."

"Just give me a minute," he said.

"Please!" I screamed. "Let me go!"

The doctor motioned the nurse back. Nancy scooted back too and then there was Coach's smiling face.

"Izzy, I'm right here. No one is going to hurt you. They'll have to get through me first." He nodded. "Got it?"

I was still straining at the restraints but noticed the nurse's frantic face as Coach slowly reached forward and brushed my hair out of my face.

"There was an accident. You're in the hospital. You're safe now; everything is going to be just fine."

I collapsed onto the sweat-soaked sheets.

"That a girl," Coach whispered. "I know you're frightened, confused, but this isn't like before. Nancy's here with me, you're safe." He smiled; a warm, genteel smile and I realized that I was not the historian's hostage again.

With that awareness, the realization that Jason had left me stole my breath. I was broken, broken beyond repair. Tears came again—in torrents.

Coach's hands gently moved to my right wrist. He was removing the restraint.

"Sir," the doctor started.

"Nothing to worry about, she'll be fine." Coach finished removing the restraint and then reached over me to undo the other one. He pulled up the sheet just enough to undo the ones around my ankles. "That better?" he whispered.

I didn't move.

"Come on girl, you got this. Just give me something so I know you're okay."

He was resting against his left arm, his hand on the edge of my bed. I slowly moved my hand toward his. He shifted his weight and let me grasp his hand.

"That all you got?" he tested. "Why I remember when you caught that pass Jason threw—showed them, that you did, turned the whole season around."

I tightened my grip.

"That a girl." With his other hand, he patted the back of my hand. "You just rest now, ya here."

"Sam?" Nancy pleaded. "Jason."

Hearing his name again was like an elephant sat on my chest and I let out an audible sigh. I found Coach's face again, searching his troubled eyes. "There's so much I need to tell you," I wheezed. "Help, help me."

"There, there, I know. It'll keep. When you're stronger."

"But—"

"Get some rest, we're not going anywhere. Nancy and I will be here when you're ready."

I tugged feebly at his hand and he leaned in closer. Nancy needed to know, something. I glanced at her and the fear in her face was obvious. I looked back to Coach. "He's gone."

"Gone?" the color drained from Coach's face.

"He left me," I clarified. "I—I—I can't—" I burst into tears again.

"Now, now." Coach pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his nose and then discretely his eyes. "You let me worry about that. Rest now." He leaned down and kissed my forehead. As he rose, he made a slight gesture toward the doctor and I could feel my senses start to slip away again.

"He can't—" I managed before I was asleep.

### Chapter 6

The sound of rain pounding against the window was the first thing I recognized. In the distance, a clap of thunder and then I swear my bed shook with a much closer strike. I flinched, jerking my arms—they were still free. I opened my eyes. The head of the bed was inclined so I was partially upright. I wasn't as groggy this time, but I had a pounding headache. Coach was standing at the window.

"Whew, that was a doozy. Don't get storms with this intensity up our way," he said.

"What do you think she meant by 'he's gone'?" Nancy pondered. "Didn't I hear her say he left her? That can't be right, he would never—" She shook her head. "I guess there's no denying he quit football and withdrew from school, but leave Izzy—never in a thousand years."

Coach turned toward her. They both looked totally worn out—frazzled. They were not aware I was awake.

"Maybe we didn't hear her correctly, or she was just confused," Coach said. "No way I can believe—no way." He also shook his head as he walked over to Nancy. He grasped her shoulders and gently began to massage them. "We both know how big an adjustment college can be."

Nancy reached up and put her hand on Coach's. "Ever since—well, since she saved his life, those two have been living like every day could be there last—so much, so fast. I guess something had to give." She looked up at Coach. "Thank you that helped."

He smiled, released her shoulders and then sat in the chair next to her. "I hear what you're saying—sure, that all makes perfect sense, but those two? Not a chance. You said it yourself, 'never in a thousand years'. We just need to be patient. She's been through a lot. She'll let us know when she's ready."

Nancy rested her head on Coach's shoulder.

"I don't know," I said, opening my eyes to face them.

They both stood. Nancy walked cautiously over to my bedside. Coach eased in next to her, for support I was sure.

"You said Jason," I choked on his name, "quit football? Withdrew from school? Why?" Tears were already streaming down my face if they'd ever stopped at all.

"We were hoping you knew?" Nancy said.

"Those things—he never told me."

"What do you remember?" Coach tested.

All I really knew was that Jason was gone. He left without telling me anything except goodbye. Of course, there was the part about me not being good enough any longer. "Why, Jason?" I mumbled. "Why?"

There were no answers, only pain, so much pain. I couldn't bear it. I didn't want to. All I wanted was for the pain to drag me into the depths of hell where I belonged.

"I want to go home," I said.

"I assume you're not talking about your campus apartment," Coach verified.

"Boonsboro?" Nancy gasped in obvious disbelief. "But—"

"He's not here. That's what I was trying to tell you before. I have no know idea why, or to where, but he's gone and he's not coming—" Sobbing took my breath away.

"You can't give up—you have to try. Maybe we could—"

Coach squeezed Nancy's hand and she stopped mid-sentence. Was it possible she blamed me? It was my fault. I wasn't good enough. Did she know that? Had she seen it coming all along?

"What do you need from us?" Coach said.

I wiped my tears and then coughed to clear my throat. "First, I have to get out of here. Then, I'm sure I must be in some legal trouble."

Just then, there was a knock at the edge of the open door.

"Ahh, a visitor," Coach said.

"Blake?" I said as Coach stepped to the side.

"Hey, Izzy." He glanced at Coach and Nancy before continuing. "If you're busy, I can—"

"No, no," Coach said. "Come right in, young man. This is Jason's mother and I'm well, everyone calls me Coach."

"Yes, sir." Blake nodded toward them. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. I don't mean to intrude, just wanted to see how Izzy was doin'."

"She's better today," Nancy said with a suspicious eye. She seemed to be sizing him up.

"Blake is—was," I corrected, "one of Jason's teammates."

"Oh," she replied. "Were you friends?"

"We kinda hung out and he helped me get a scholarship," Blake said. He looked at me, and then Nancy and Coach. "Why'd he quit? If you don't mind my askin'?"

"Perhaps," Nancy began, "you might be able to shed—"

"We'll let you two talk," Coach interrupted. He slipped his arm in behind Nancy and nudged her toward the door. Obviously, he figured Blake didn't know any more about the situation than I did, and didn't want to subject Blake to Nancy's probing questions.

"Ma'am, Coach," Blake said as he stepped into the room. "Our head coach is down the hall in the waiting room. I think he would like a word."

"Thank you, son." Coach shook Blake's hand and then ushered a reluctant Nancy out of the room.

Blake looked really uncomfortable, but eased over to one of the chairs next to my bed, spun it around and sat, straddling the back. Neither of us spoke and Blake seemed to be avoiding eye contact, which was totally unlike Blake.

"What day is it?" I offered, hoping to ease into a conversation and maybe learn something about what happened.

Blake scratched his head. "Wednesday—yeah, it's Wednesday."

"Wow, I've been out for like three days then, right?"

Blake nodded. He lifted his ball cap, smoothed back his long hair and then slid the hat back on. "So really, you okay?"

"From the accident?"

"Yeah."

"I think the doctor said I have a concussion, but—"

"I don't know, Izzy."

"What?"

"I don't know why he quit." He hesitated. "Maybe you can talk him into—"

"You don't know."

"I swear, he never said—"

"No Blake, listen. He not only quit the team, but he quit school and left me."

"No!" Blake jumped up from the chair sending it crashing into the side of my bed. "No way, he ain't like that."

I grimaced at the sudden noise and jostling.

"Sorry." Blake retrieved his chair.

"He's gone, Blake. Gone." Saying those words again started the tears. I tried to hold them back—for Blake's sake, but it was pointless.

The nurse stuck her head in. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, ma'am, I stumbled over the chair. I apologize."

She nodded and left us alone.

Blake eased back onto the chair. He scratched his head again. "Don't make no sense, girl. He was probably going to get the starting quarterback position and school—heck he was helping me and I know the two of you— well you two were tight—whole team knew that. What the heck's wrong with the boy?" He glanced at me. "Oh, don't cry, ain't right for a nice girl like you to— well it ain't right." He thought for a moment and then asked. "What ya gonna do?"

I sniffed back the tears. "Go home, if they'll let me."

"Ah man, that sucks. Whatta ya mean 'if they'll let you?'"

"The accident," I reminded him. "Not to mention the police chase leading up to it. I imagine they might even throw me in jail."

"Dang girl, I heard you were doin' over 100 miles an hour! Well, I don't blame ya one bit. Someone did somethin' like that to me, I'd be pissed too. Oh, but hey, you don't gotta worry about none of that."

"I doubt that."

"No, seriously. Coach talked to the cops—and an Officer Stan, I think it was, straightened it all out. You're in the clear."

We were silent for a moment while I took that in. I'd run into Officer Stan by mere chance, and then his health problem, and now this. How do all those random pieces just fall in place like that? Exactly, how indeed, especially right when I needed them. Should I have realized Jason was going to leave? Were the pieces there and I just didn't see them? Would it have mattered if I did?

"Blake," I finally said, "can I ask a favor?"

"Anything. You know that."

"I'm going to get a few things from our apartment and I'm sure Jason's mom will want his things, but can you sell what's left? You can keep the money for your trouble."

"Sure, no problem. I'll take care of it, but I ain't keepin' the money. I'll mail it to you."

"Just use it to buy pizza for the team or something then, okay?"

"I really wish I could do something to—well to fix things, or at least get you to stay."

I hesitated. I hated to ask Blake about Jason, but there wasn't really any other choice. "Jason didn't mention anything about what was bothering him, did he?"

"Not a word."

"Did he act any different lately?"

"Nah—now hold on, that ain't so, he did. He was hittin' the weights hard—I mean really hard. I thought he was gonna bust a gut before the game. I told him so too. He didn't listen—not to me, but I'm tellin' you, he was getting stronger by the minute—you could see it." His eyes suddenly opened wider. "No wait, wait right there, there was something. He missed a day of practice—right out of the blue, a no show." He lowered his voice even though we were alone. "Between you and me, I think he was going to get the Spring Game start until he pulled that stunt. Coaches were not amused." He shook his head. "No sir."

"Was that the week before the game?

Blake brought his hand up to his face and began to tap his lower lip with his finger. "Yeah, come to think of it, it was. That important? Betty said something about him not coming home."

"I don't know, might be."

"I'm really sorry. Wish I could do more. Hate to run, but we got game tapes today—gonna be strange seeing Jason in the films." As he stood, he reached over to pat the edge of my bed. He was startled when I grasped his hand.

I squeezed his hand. "Thank you for what you're doing, it really is a big help."

"And what would that be?" Nancy asked entering the room with Coach on her heels. She had that suspicious look again. I guess I couldn't blame her, Jason was her son, I had to have had something to do with his leaving. By the look on her face, she probably thought Blake might be that something.

Blake quickly pulled his hand away.

"Blake is going to sell our stuff from the apartment. Since he won't keep the money, I told him to use it to buy pizza for the team. That's not a problem is it?"

"We'll need to get Jason's things," she said, still eyeing Blake.

"Sure, and I want a few things of mine."

"Don't mean to be rude," Blake said, backing away toward the door, "but I really gotta run."

"Sure, thanks again. I really do appreciate it," I said.

"Later." We exchanged an awkward glance.

I can't say for sure about Blake, but I realized we would probably never see each other again. "Bye."

Blake wasted no time escaping the awkward situation. I waited until he was gone before I resumed the conversation with Nancy and Coach.

"So Blake said the coach smoothed over my incident with the police."

"That he did," Coach said. "He had a lot of nice things to say about the both of you and he was just as surprised by all this as we are. Said Jason talked about you all the time."

I tried to smile, to be polite—I couldn't. My eyes filled with tears, but I managed to hold them back—for now. There were things that needed to be done, then I could fall apart.

"We also saw the Doctor," Nancy said. "You're free to go," she added, then grimaced. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what's next?"

### * * *

It was late by the time I was finally released from the hospital. I didn't want to intrude on Nancy and Coach at their hotel room, so I sucked it up and stayed at the apartment for the night. Not surprisingly, it was too much. I managed to hold it together while they packed Jason's things and Coach took them to the car. But once they left, the walls came crashing down. I melted onto the sofa, squeezed my favorite pillow against the massive black hole of emptiness inside me and just sat there, motionless, sobbing, for hours.

I thought back to the random pieces that all fell in place that kept me out of trouble with the police and if there had been anything like that with Jason I should have seen. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed impossible, except for one thing. Jason had always said he'd rather be with me than play football. We'd talked about it a thousand times and finally came to agree that he owed it to himself to give his full effort—before me it was all he wanted. Was it possible that he really meant the choice was me or football? Was that it? Had I actually talked him into leaving me?

No, that couldn't be—even Blake recognized the bond between Jason and I. If not me, then what? Maybe it wasn't the events leading up to the game at all, maybe it was the game, but I saw the game, there wasn't anything—not the 'impossible pass' as the announcer put it. Why, or how could a pass cause Jason to leave me, leave everything behind?

"What's the connection?" I mumbled into the tear soaked pillow.

I was still crying when the window shades began to slowly brighten with the dawn of another day without Jason. This one was going to be difficult—they were all going to be difficult.

It wasn't long before there was a tap at the door. I couldn't move.

"Hello?" Coach's voice quietly echoed in the room. "Oh, there you are. Hope we're not too early."

I still didn't move.

"For heaven's sake," Nancy said. "You look awful. Sam, wet a towel." She sat down next to me and looked sympathetically into my eyes. "I'm so sorry all this happened." She gave me a little hug, my listless body moved easily into her arms. When she eased me back, the concern in her face was etched deeper.

I had no more tears, just red, burning eyes and an emptiness that was too dark to comprehend. Coach gave her the damp towel and she began to blot at my cheeks and eyes.

"Yesterday, in the hospital, well if I made it sound like you had anything to do with this, I know better. You're the sweetest person I've ever known." She took my hands, gently kissed the back of my right hand. "I mean that." A few more tears found their way down my cheeks.

Coach finished packing up the last few things and then took them down to the car.

"Well, that ought to do it," he said, returning to the apartment. "What's next?"

I drew in a shallow breath and managed a whisper, "I have to withdraw."

Nancy looked deep into my eyes. "No, Izzy, you're in no condition— it can wait until we get you home." Her face registered such concern—such sympathy.

"I have to."

"Izzy, please, don't put yourself through that. It's not necessary."

Coach rested his hand on her shoulder. "If it's what she wants, let her be." His eyes reflected her concern.

Nancy helped me up from the couch and by their reaction, I don't think either one of them thought I could walk out of the apartment, much less into the guidance counselor's office. She turned me toward the door. I could tell she was crying when we all looked back into the stark apartment from the doorway.

"You go on ahead if that's okay. I have something I want to ask Coach," I said.

"Very well." She hugged me and started down the stairs.

"What's on your mind?" Coach said.

"When I said I wanted to 'go home,' I didn't mean your home."

He looked puzzled for a minute. "The Faulkner's?" His eyes became slits.

I nodded.

"I don't want you to be alone. It's not good when you're feelin' low. It's better if you're around people. Besides, Nancy and I expect you to stay with us. It's the least we can do."

"It has to be this way, or I won't go."

His eyes widened. "Gonna be like that then," he grumbled.

"I don't mean to be ungrateful. I just need the time to myself— to think things through— to figure out what to do."

"Alright then, but on one condition, Nancy and I can come over once a week to check on you."

"If that's the way it has to be." I nodded acceptance. "One more thing."

Coach looked very apprehensive.

"No one can know I'm there."

"Alright, I can see that, if that's what you want, but within reason. If Nancy or I don't think you're holding up well, we'll talk it over with you and see if we can get you some help." He held up his open hands to me before I could object. "Don't fret over it. I hope you're going to be fine. I just want you to understand, we are not going to sit by and watch you sink into despair."

Fine? I was never going to be fine, but it was just like Coach to have a backup plan. Right here, right now, there was no other choice. "Okay, but within reason, as you said. I need time to grieve before I can even think about trying to adjust."

He put his arm around me and gave me a gentle, caring hug. "Alright then." He pulled the door closed with a heart-wrenching finality, locked it and we headed down the steps toward the car.

### * * *

Coach navigated the campus flawlessly with my directions, finally pulling up to the curb out front of the building where my counselor's office was located. I wiped my eyes and then opened the car door.

"You sure about this?" Coach asked.

"Please, Izzy, at least let one of us walk you in," Nancy said, twisting around in her seat so she could see me.

I looked at Coach in the rearview mirror. "I got this."

The reflection of his eyes in the mirror said he knew I was bluffing. He got out of the car and helped me out.

"I don't think this will take too long. It's not like I'm going to change my mind." I started a slow walk toward the building before either of them could respond.

When I got to the door and pulled it open, I caught a glimpse of Coach and Nancy standing by the car with an arm around each other. I knew they cared, they really cared.

I hesitated when I got to Ms. Johanson's office. I suddenly felt very unsure, not about withdrawing, that had to be done, but if I could actually make it through this. Maybe Nancy was right, maybe I should have just used the Internet. Ms. Johanson had always been nice to me, tried to help fit my classes in around Jason's football practice schedule so that we could spend as much time together as possible. No, I owed her a face-to-face. Suddenly, her office door opened.

"Izzy! I didn't know you were coming by." She greeted me with an enthusiastic hug. "Oh my, forgive me, I'm so sorry. I couldn't imagine the rumors were true, but Jason's coach called last night—I'm so sorry. Please, come inside where we can talk."

Once in her office, we sat down in armchairs that flanked a small end table. She moved her chair around so it was more across from me. I hadn't looked up since her greeting. "I guess you know why I'm here."

"I hope not."

I swallowed hard as tears began to fill my eyes. "I have to, I can't function. It's impossible."

"I can't imagine what you must be going through. You two were like the poster couple for the entire team—perfect in every sense of the word. Obviously, the college failed you. What could we have done differently?"

I couldn't speak, so I just shook my head.

She seemed to sense my inability to carry on a conversation. "I'm sorry, that was self-serving. Have you thought this through? We're past the withdraw date so you will get zero's for your classes. I'd hate to see that happen. Exams start in another week, if you could just hang on until—"

I shook my head again. "Jason's parents are waiting out front to take me home."

She handed me a tissue as the tears began.

"It has to be this way," I choked out.

We sat silently for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she reached over to the corner of her desk and then handed me another tissue. While I wiped my eyes and blew my nose, she also took a tissue to wipe her eyes. Once she regained her composure, she got up and walked around behind her desk.

"I've filled out most of your paperwork. If you can just sign here, I'll take care of the rest." She slid the form over to the edge of the desk.

I got up and signed with a shaky hand and then slid the form back across the desk. "Thank you, for everything."

"Are you going to be alright?"

I shrugged. My eyes burned so much and I was on the verge of completely breaking down.

She slid her chair back as if she were going to stand, but hesitated. "Izzy, I know how difficult this is for you, for Jason, but I believe the Lord does not put challenges in our paths that we cannot overcome. And, what I'm about to say, I say with the utmost sincerity. You and Jason will find your back to one another—I know that in my heart, like so many other people whose lives the two of you have touched. Have faith, hold onto that and God's plan will be revealed to you." She stood, walked around her desk and offered me her open arms.

We exchanged a gentle hug. Though her words were from the heart, I still knew I would not survive without Jason, I couldn't as a vampire and it was humanly impossible as well. I eased back.

Ms. Johanson walked me out to the car. Introduced herself and turned me over to Nancy and Coach. "I know you will, but watch over her," she said to Nancy.

"We will. She has a lot of support back home."

I glanced at Coach. He obviously had not mentioned my conditions to Nancy.

Ms. Johanson grasped my hand, patted the back of it, and then I slipped onto the back seat.

### Chapter 7

It had been six weeks since my return to Boonsboro. Despite Nancy's objections, she stuck to Coach's and my agreement. I'm not exactly sure why, but Sunday evening became the time they visited. I did my best to put on a good act, cleaning up around the house—at least the part they could see and did my very best to eat whatever food they brought. But when I was alone, all I did was sit and stare out into the dense green wilderness beyond the window. I didn't really see it; it was just the backdrop to the pain inside me.

Although it was painful, sleeping in Benjamin and Elizabeth's old room and our honeymoon bed, the room had the best view out the window. I didn't eat, barely drank anything, just mourned what was lost and would never be again. The void that was once a heart filled with love and joy was nothing more than a deep rooted, sickening pain. I didn't want to cope with it; I wanted it to take me, to end me.

Through sleepy eyes, I stared out into the nothingness beyond the window. It was still dark, the part of the day an hour before the sun would begin to turn the sky shades of violet that give way to blue. It was also the time of day I was the weakest, the time I felt like I might mercifully slip away.

The blurriness obliterated the scene and darkness began to close in around the edges. Jason's smiling face, the face from our wedding day, flashed through my thoughts but was quickly replaced by his face the day he left. I closed my eyes. "I love you," I whispered, unable to say his name, and fell back onto the chair.

### * * *

"Izzy? Izzy? Can you hear me?"

Someone was gently slapping my face. A cold, wet cloth suddenly splashed across my forehead.

"Izzy! Wake up girl."

I couldn't muster the energy to respond.

"You wake up now, or deal's off—I'm calling 911."

"Coach?" I mumbled.

"That's right. Snap out of it now or I'll have no choice but to take you to the hospital."

Suddenly my stomach convulsed leaving a nasty taste in my mouth. There was a stabbing pain, and I rolled to my side just as I threw up.

"Poor kid," Coach said as he scooped me up and carried me to the bathroom. He gently set me on the floor next to the toilet, snatched the plastic liner out of the trashcan and a roll of toilet paper and then went back into the bedroom to clean up my mess.

"I'm sorry," I said, emerging from the bathroom. The convulsions drained what little energy I had, but I tried to act as normal as I could. Still, I had to lean against the doorframe to keep my balance.

"No, this is my fault, I chose the Chinese—Nancy told me it probably wasn't the best thing for you." He stuffed the last soggy, wad of toilet paper in the plastic trash bag and then tied it closed. He glanced my way. Without so much as a word, he rushed over, slipped his arm around me and gingerly led me to my chair in front of the window. He briefly looked around the room, and then pulled the other chair over in front of me and sat down.

"I feel better now," I said, feeling a stern lecture coming on.

"What time is it?" he asked.

I glanced at the clock. "six forty-five."

"AM or PM?"

The light outside didn't give me any clue. "AM?" I guessed.

"And the day?"

"What are you doing here?" I said.

He frowned. "I think it's time we renegotiate our previous agreement."

"No! You promised." The front door squeaked as it opened.

"Upstairs," Coach called.

"You called her? Why? I was—"

"Far end of the hall in the master bedroom," Coach interrupted.

I discretely glanced around. They weren't supposed to see this room.

Coach caught my eye. "You've been less than upfront with us," he whispered. It was obvious from his tone that he was disappointed—very disappointed.

Nancy appeared in the doorway. "Oh, my." She marched across the room to join us. "I'm glad you called."

"I think the three of us need to have a heart-to-heart," Coach said, "but first, I want Nancy to check you over."

"You're kidding. No!"

"I value her opinion and since you've obviously been less than honest with us, I want Nancy's assessment of your health."

I glowered at him. "Because I lost some weight?" He must have noticed when he carried me to the bathroom. "You agreed that I needed time to grieve."

"Just hold on there a minute—"

Nancy shot him a glare and he stopped. It was one of the rare times I'd seen him angry.

Nancy turned to me. "He's just trying to say we're worried about you and want to make sure you're alright, that you're eating, that you're beginning the healing process."

"The 'healing process'? You're not serious? This is not happening, no way!" I crossed my arms in defiance. The room spun with my sudden outburst.

Coach rose from his chair. "Then it's the Emergency Room young lady."

"Okay, already." I got up, staggered a little and followed Nancy to the bathroom. I glared back at Coach. "This isn't necessary."

Nancy closed the door after we were inside the bathroom. She was gentle, discrete, but felt through my baggy sweat clothes, up and down my legs, my arms, and ribs. I was mortified, it felt like being frisked by the police, but for me, the consequences could be dire depending on what she thought. Not a word was spoken. Once she was satisfied, we returned to where Coach was now pacing.

He looked at Nancy. "You agree?"

"It's difficult to say—she has always been petite. I don't have any basis with which to compare." Nancy shrugged. "Maybe it was just the Chinese food.

"Told you," I added.

Coach didn't look convinced. I eased back to my chair—the room was spinning again. Nancy sat on the other chair and Coach settled down on the arm of her chair.

"Maybe so," he said, "but it has been almost two months." He shook his head. "I haven't seen one iota of improvement."

Nancy grasped my hand and coddled it between hers. "We just want to help you move on."

I know how hard that must have been for her to say, but it didn't change the fact that I wouldn't, I couldn't, 'move on'. Jason was my life, without him I was already dead. Their last few visits, they had tried to be very upbeat, with news from outside my self-imposed isolation, and Coach always had stories from school about class or the students—he avoided sports.

"Were the police able to help?" I asked hesitantly.

They exchanged a glance and it was obvious Coach encouraged Nancy to go ahead with something. "They found Jason's vehicle last week—"

"You didn't tell me? What did he say? Why did he—"

She patted the back of my hand. "Just the Rover." She looked up at Coach as if she were unable to continue.

"It's like this," Coach picked up the conversation. "Technically, Jason is eighteen and there is no evidence of foul play, so he's not considered missing. They stumbled across his car because it showed up on an impound lot and our address was on the registration. There is nothing more they can do."

I wasn't that surprised. It didn't really matter anyway, he'd left me, but for Nancy, it was different, almost like her husband, Jason's dad. He just disappeared one day, then they found his car, but nothing more. He just vanished. Of course, there were the unfortunate circumstances when Jason and I had crossed his path as a vampire. I had to destroy him to protect Jason. And yet, somehow Jason had forgiven me, or had he really? "I'm sorry," I said, leaning forward to give her a hug.

"Thank you, dear." She sniffed back tears. "I guess you knew somehow, though."

"Not really," I replied. "This has been so hard on you, things that happened in the past, now this. Will you be okay?"

"Nice try," Coach said, "Nancy and I have already had this discussion and while we both know you care deeply about us, we're here to talk about you. It's been too long, young lady, entirely too long. I know you can't give up hope, we don't expect you to, but you have to get involved in life again. You can't stay locked up in this old house forever."

Truth was, there was a time I could have, but that would have meant an eternity without Jason. I probably could have found him—his blood, his scent was so irresistible, but I couldn't make him love me again. Was that it? Was it that simple? Did he leave because he couldn't love the human Izzy Faulkner with all her faults? It didn't seem likely. He wasn't shallow like that, but maybe if I was a vampire again. I shuttered at the thought. Sure, there were things I missed, but I liked being human. For Jason, though, I would be a vampire, but what if that wasn't it? An eternity without Jason would be unbearable and ultimately impossible so either way, human or vampire, it didn't matter.

"I'm not—locked up that is. I went out for a walk yesterday."

"It rained yesterday," Coach said.

"I know." I remembered the water cascading like tears over the leaves. It deepened the emptiness—made the pain sharper. "It was a good choice for my first time out, right?" I could see the doubt in their eyes—the sadness in Nancy's. "I just walked around the property," I lied, "it's a start."

"Baby steps," Coach grunted with a suspicious frown.

"What day is it anyway, you didn't tell me?"

"Uh-huh." He recognized my attempt at a diversion. "Tuesday."

"Is school out yet?"

"Half days this week."

"Oh, that's nice. You two should go out to dinner, enjoy yourselves. Maybe a movie."

"You could join us," Nancy urged.

"I don't think so; I'm not quite up for that just yet. Maybe another time."

Coach stood, and Nancy followed his lead. "Not much longer," he said, "I expect to see some improvement." He took her hand, and they started toward the door. "We'll see you Sunday evening."

Once they were gone, I collapsed onto the overstuffed chair again and burst into tears. A few minutes later, I noticed Coach walking around outside my window. He was looking for footprints that wouldn't be there.

### * * *

I was shocked back to reality sometime later when my stomach suddenly turned sour again. Fortunately, I made it to the bathroom this time although it didn't make much of a difference, I had nothing to puke. In some ways, the dry heaves were worse, more painful. When they passed, I slipped down onto the cold, bathroom tile floor, and despite the lingering nausea, drifted off.

Later, as I sat motionless in my chair, a car turned up the gravel driveway. It wasn't Sunday, was this a surprise visit, or more like inspection? Just one door closed and then there was a gentle tapping at the front door. Why would they knock? They always used their key. They wouldn't. I would just wait until whoever it was left. The last thing I wanted was company.

Five or ten minutes later the knocking finally stopped, another couple of minutes and the car started and drove away.

It returned the next day and the knocking at the front door resumed. After exactly five minutes, it stopped and whoever it was left again. I didn't sleep that night; instead, I remained in my chair, staring out the window into the dark forest beyond. The pain of losing Jason grew with each passing hour because tomorrow would be Saturday, the day he broke my heart, a heart that no longer felt anything but pain. Why couldn't this torment end—please, just end me.

As the trees began to eclipse the morning sky, I had to make a dash for the bathroom. I'd eaten a few crackers earlier in hopes they would quell the stomach pain, but no such luck. If there was a good thing to puking your guts out, it didn't last long—still, it drained my energy so much, and today, that day—maybe the end was at hand. I fell back onto my chair as a deer darted across my view out the window. For a moment, I wondered what might have spooked her. She was dark, like the leaves, wet from the night's rain. Everything seemed right for this to finally be the end.

"I love you, Jas—" His name stuck in my throat. I closed my eyes and hoped I would never open them again.

I slumped forward just as something struck the outside of the window. I jerked my head back and tried to focus. Someone was standing at the tree line. I blinked again.

"I'm not leaving this time."

I slowly leaned forward. "Cathy?" I mumbled.

"I know you can see me." She waved, just a short gesture and then stood motionless.

Not today. I just want to die today. Wait, why is she here? How does she know I'm here? Did they tell her? Coach promised—

"I'm here to help." She cocked her head to the side. "You don't want help, I know, but I'm supposed to help you."

They did tell her.

She closed her eyes and a strange feeling came over me like I was being pulled back, out of the darkness. "No! Leave me alone." I staggered to my feet and glowered at her.

"You know I can't," she said, as she opened her eyes, "I won't."

"Yes, you can." I stepped toward the window still glaring down at her. "Just get back in your car and drive away." Though I had intended anger in my voice, it sounded more like pleading.

Suddenly her eyes sparkled. "Oh, of course, under the mat." She walked out of view.

"No!" I yelled. "Leave me alone!"

But my protest was in vain as moments later, the key from under the front mat unlocked the door. I sank back onto my chair as her footsteps started up the stairs. I rolled my head to the side as Cathy stepped into the doorway.

"You don't look surprised," I mumbled.

"No, I know you're hurting," she said. Her gaze quickly scanned the room and then settled on me. "Although, I don't know why I had to wait so long—you're a disaster." She started toward me.

I turned back toward the window, but she walked around to that side and then knelt down in front of me. Her face showed concern, sympathy and a touch of anger. She didn't speak, she just sat there, looking at me.

"This isn't the best day—" I started.

"It's the perfect day," she said. "I just wish it would have come sooner, or not at all."

"What does that mean?"

She hesitated as if considering. "I knew you were here—no, they didn't tell me," she added before I could accuse. "I don't understand why, but I had to wait, to let you try, but you're not trying—you don't want to try." She scooted closer. "So, it's my turn."

"If this is another one of your visions—well, I don't need your help."

"Yes, you do. You both do."

I dropped my guard, my anger, "Cathy, I know you're trying to help, but—"

"No, no buts." She abruptly stood. "You need to shower and change." She walked over to my armoire, opened it and started going through my clothes. "Don't make me force you—I didn't bring a change of clothes."

"Fine." I struggled to my feet.

Her gaze was unrelenting as I walked across the room to the bathroom. It was a relief to close the door. Maybe she would go away if I stayed here long enough. I locked the door.

"That won't work," she said.

"What?"

Suddenly the door unlocked. I grabbed the doorknob and yanked it open to confront her—this was my house—my space, but when the door opened, Cathy was standing across the room with a pair of my jeans and a dark, gray tee shirt. She walked over to me and held them out.

"These will do for now."

I grabbed them from her and slipped back into the bathroom. Was she able to manipulate objects now? Had her powers grown since I last saw her? I would have to be careful. I knew she had the ability to erase Jason from me—I couldn't let that happen—I couldn't exist without him.

"I'm not going to take him from you," she said softly, "I would never do that to the two of you."

I lingered in the shower, partly because the warm water cascading over my skin was distracting, but also because I hoped she would go away—deep down I knew she wouldn't. To my pleasant surprise, she was nowhere to be seen when I opened the bathroom door.

"Down here, in the kitchen," she called.

I knew I wasn't that lucky. I glanced out the window. It was late morning and the sun was beating down on the damp, lush vegetation sucking the moisture into the heavy, humid air that hugged the forest floor. Halfway down the steps, I smelled food.

"I hope you don't mind," Cathy said, "but you have to eat before we go. Bacon and eggs should do the trick, don't you think?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

She turned from the stove holding two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon. "Shall we?" She motioned toward the table.

"Fine, but I'm not leaving this house."

We ate in silence, but occasionally I could feel Cathy—or a least what I presumed was Cathy—probing. Each time I glared at her the sensation stopped. Still, it was unnerving—exposing. I couldn't trick her like I was doing with Nancy and Coach.

When we finished eating, she did the dishes without so much as a peep and then sat back down at the table across from me. I hesitantly looked up.

"I know you think you're doing what's best for you, but you're not," she said.

"But you do?"

"To be blunt, yes. I won't pretend it will be easy, but it is necessary." She suddenly stood. "It's time—you have to get out of this tomb."

"No." I crossed my arms and slumped back in the chair in defiance.

### Chapter 8

Physically I couldn't put up much of a fight. I was weak and tired easily now. So, it wasn't all that difficult—all be it humiliating—for Cathy to wrestle me out of the house. Once in her car, I probably should have conceded, but I still refused to cooperate. She buckled me in the passenger's seat and then ran around and climbed in behind the wheel. I stared aimlessly out the passenger's side window as she drove down the gravel driveway. We stopped at the bottom and I could feel her staring at me.

"I know this will be difficult, but you have to know I have your best interest at heart."

I turned to face her. "I don't know that at all."

If you can smile and pout at the same time, she did. "Yes you do, just like you always tried to do what was best for me."

"We were friends—just—I'm sorry, I didn't mean that we aren't, but really, I don't know what you're implying."

"There were many times, but probably the most important, was when you tried to erase what Derrick did to me."

"Erase?" I did erase that memory after her breakdown in Art, but how could she know that?

"It's okay—it worked, well at least for awhile. By the time I started to remember, I could cope with it. You were always protective of me, Jason too."

I wilted at the sound of his name.

"I'm sorry. Deep down you know you trust me, just go with the flow as they say. We're going to get you to the place where you belong." She looked both ways and then turned right out of the driveway. "Let the journey begin."

I didn't pay much attention to where we were going, but after only a short distance, she pulled to a stop. I looked up at the sharp curve ahead and then over at Cathy.

She pointed down into a ravine. "The poison ivy is still there," she said. "This is Moser Road, the place where Jason first saw you."

"I never told you—"

She tapped her finger against the side of her head.

"Right." That was the night Derrick and his crew ran me off the road. My car was hopelessly stuck and then, Jason showed up. The kids called him 'Hollywood' back then. The lightening—I would never forget the flash of lightening when we saw each other's faces for the first time—I wanted to devour him.

"You remember all the rumors around school because you both missed classes for a few days? Everyone would learn about Jason's poison ivy, but you had it so much worse—and no one ever knew." She shook her head. "Still, you remember the magnetism between the two of you?"

"Sure," I grumbled, "but Lisa stepped in and took care of that. Are you trying to say he left me for Lisa?"

"No! You can't be serious." She laughed. "Well, on to the next stop."

I ducked down in the seat when we entered town and even covered my head with my arm when we had to stop at a traffic light. Cathy seemed very amused, but I stayed down, afraid someone might recognize me. By doing that, I lost all sense of where we might be going—not that I had any control of it anyway. When I finally looked up, I was shocked to see we were passing the filtration plant.

"No, Cathy, please not there."

"I know this is chronologically out of order, but it's on the way." She nodded. "It'll be okay, promise."

I shook my head. It was anything but okay.

We rounded the curve and then the bridge joints clattered under the tires. Cathy slowed and eased off onto the side of the road at the gravel spot between two large oaks. I shook my head and pushed back against the seat. Cathy seemed surprised by the intensity of my reaction. She shut off the engine.

"Are you afraid to be here because you will remember good things about you and Jason?" She drug out his name as if to be cruel. "It's exactly why we should be here. Come on." She got out and when I didn't move, she came over to my side and wrestled me out of the car. We only got as far as the front bumper before she gave up. We both leaned back against the hood.

"What do you see?" she asked.

"Water, rocks, sand, trees—" I mumbled, not wanting to play along with her sick game.

"What, no Olympic Mountains?" She pulled me up from the hood. "Come on, there's a log down next to the creek. We can talk there."

"I remember."

I glanced back as we made our way down the path toward the creek. The car was parked exactly where the two motorcycles had pulled off and parked when the gang was after us. Jason was so brave, so protective, even though I was many times more powerful. He'd insisted I hide in the water while he dealt with the bikers, and dealt with them he did.

"You caught a fish," Cathy said as we eased down onto the fallen tree.

I didn't want to think about it. "I'm surprised the log hasn't washed away."

She smirked at my attempt to change the subject.

The sun came out from behind a cloud and in the thick air, it tingled the skin of my bare arms. Despite the sun, the water was still cold and the combination of warm sun and cool air was invigorating. I fought it, but gave in and tilted my face upwards toward the sun. As I did, I saw the smile on Cathy's face.

"Better?" she asked.

"I don't want—"

"You're in no condition to know what you want."

I closed my eyes. We sat quietly for awhile. Finally, I tilted my head back down, opened my eyes and scanned the surroundings. "It was a smallmouth bass."

"And you took it home for Jason's mom to cook."

"He took it home to her. I was still in hiding."

"Don't you mean protection mode? Sure, you were keeping out of sight, but you were guarding Jason so nothing would happen to him—no one would hurt him."

"The motorcycles came from down there." I pointed down the road.

"And Jason made sure you were safe."

"Why are you doing this?" I groaned as tears began to fill my eyes.

"How do you feel?" Cathy asked.

"I don't know."

"Good." She abruptly stood. "One more stop if you're up to it." She looked down at me and offered me her hand. "Oh don't give me that pouty face, you're up to it."

She helped me up and we walked back to the car. I got in by myself this time. Obviously, my resistance was only going to drag this out. She brought sandwiches, so we ate as we drove toward whatever torture she had planned next. I recognized some of the roads, some I didn't. Back then, I did a lot of traveling on foot, it was faster, more direct. Is that what she's doing, reminding me of what I was? Why?

"Cathy—"

"No, it's not about being a vampire—or human for that matter."

"What does that mean?"

She suddenly made a sharp left turn. "Sorry. Detour, I just remembered something."

There was no point in protesting, so I didn't. "You're taking me to the school?"

She glanced over. "Not exactly. Besides, it's summer, no one is there." She passed the school and parked next to the sign at the soccer fields behind the school—right where Jason parked his Jeep.

"How do you—oh never mind."

"We won't get out unless you want to," she said.

"No."

She pointed across the field to the stand of thick pines. "Remember?"

"I could never forget." I reached down and unlatched the door. I got out and took a step away from the car, but looked back at Cathy. I didn't want to go, but the draw was strong I couldn't resist.

"Go on, I'll wait here."

I closed the door and began a slow hesitant walk toward the pines. On the far edge of the field, I could picture the evening fog flowing down out of the woods—the swirling fog as Jason and I ran through it playing follow the leader. I stopped at the edge of the pines and took a deep breath. The scent of pine was strong. I glanced back at Cathy and then lifted a branch and ducked into the thicket, quickly finding the little open area near the trunks of the trees. I knelt down on the soft, dry pine needles and remembered holding Jason's hands, staring into one another's eyes and the kiss—our first kiss. Tears came, as expected—it hurt to cry now. My body seemed to melt until I was lying on the ground. I curled up and closed my eyes.

"You okay?" came Cathy's voice from outside my pine sanctuary.

I sat up, wiped my eyes and then brushed off the pine needles as best I could. I would never forget this place, what happened here and maybe, just maybe, this would be a better place to end it. I could see the love I felt turning to pain and sucking the life out of me into the ground—I would have to remember this place.

"Coming," I called back to Cathy.

"Okay, take your time. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

When I emerged from the pines, Cathy was halfway back to the car. I followed. When I climbed in the passenger's seat, the smile on Cathy's face couldn't have been more obvious.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, "I guess it was a good detour." She started the car, backed out and then headed back toward Main Street. "You know, someone could have recognized you."

"Oh my God! I forgot." I sunk down in the seat. "Did anyone see me?"

"No, there were a couple of kids, but I don't think so. So, you forgot." She smiled again, a smile of satisfaction. Her optimism was in vein.

I stayed low in the seat until the car began to slow and the crunch of gravel under the tires indicated we were pulling off the road again. I glanced up. We followed two ruts through the tall grass for a short distance before coming to a stop in front of two fence posts and an open gate.

"Here we are."

I looked beyond the gate and immediately burst into tears. How could she be so cruel? I dropped my face into my hands and sobbed—I could not bear this—not this.

Cathy let me be for awhile but finally patted me on the back. "Come on, this is important." She got out of the car, came around to my side and despite my feeble resistance, pulled me up off the seat. My legs were so wobbly, I could barely stand. She was determined and led me just a few steps beyond the front of the car where we stopped. "This is where Jason brought you for Home Coming, Junior Year. If you look close, the wires are still in the tree."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can." She tightened her grip around my waist and pulled me up a little. "Besides, I didn't bring you all the way out here just to reminisce. Well, not entirely. Just look for yourself, you won't be sorry."

I slowly lifted my gaze from the ground until I could see that pivotal place, the place where everything changed for Jason and I. "Why are there flowers here?"

"And look closely at the tree." Cathy pointed at the trunk.

"What is that?"

"Come on." She helped me along—not because I needed it, I'd made it all the way to the pines and back, but because I still refused to cooperate. Despite that, we finally made it to the bare, dirt spot in front of the tree. "Your dance floor."

I nodded. "And mud pit."

"You were quite the show off after you told him."

"I didn't, he knew."

"And yet he still loved you—maybe even more."

I looked over at the tree. "Are those names carved into the trunk?"

Cathy loosened her grip. "You okay?"

I nodded.

She let go and then knelt down in front of the tree, pointing to one of the carvings. "This is Alex's and mine. 'Alex & Cathy forever'. It's perfect, don't you think?"

I wiped my eyes, but the tears just kept coming.

She stood and slipped back in next to me for support. "Alex and I were the first. We chose the bottom of the tree because that part keeps getting bigger and bigger every year." She panned the hand that wasn't wrapped around me across the trunk of the tree. "All these names—these people came here for the same reason, to find strength, to pray, or to put a stamp on their relationship like Alex and I did, that says it matters—above all else, their love matters."

"Why?"

"Because of you and Jason—you and Jason matter—you will always matter. Don't you see, the love between the two of you is bigger than life, greater than death? It's eternal. What the two of you began here, brought a sense of hope, of belonging, of love, to people, to couples, even families."

"That's sad. What will happen when they find out—"

"You still love him," she interrupted, "I know you do. If you didn't, you wouldn't be in this condition."

I wiped my eyes again. "Of course I still love him, but my 'condition' as you put it, is that he no longer loves me."

"You're kidding, right?" She turned me toward the car. "We'll stop for today. I know this has been taxing and the detour took a little more out of you than I expected, but you won't regret cooperating."

"Cooperating?" I glanced up and added. "Seriously?"

"Did you just make a joke?" A smile spread across her face. She winked. "We should go."

I followed her back to the car and got in on my own—I was exhausted. Neither of us spoke the entire ride back to my house. Once there, she walked me to the front door. It was already dark.

"Tomorrow," she began.

I shook my head.

"Tomorrow, things will begin to fall into place—gain perspective. Think of it like this—you've started a new piece of art. In this case, you're not exactly sure where it's going, but you've got a few of the pieces. As you continue, the pieces will gain clarity and detail. Then, the composition will become clear and you'll know exactly what you're drawing and why. I know it's only one outing—it didn't change anything, but don't lose hope. You've taken the first step."

"To where?"

Her expression turned placid. "Truthfully—and I owe you that for sure—I don't know, but it has to be better than where you were going." She reached up the railing that ran along the steps, to touch my hand.

I pulled back afraid she might try to erase his memory.

"I promised I wouldn't, but I understand." She pulled her hand away. "I have some homework for you. I know, right now, when you think about Jason, all you feel is pain, the pain of him leaving, the pain of life without him—"

"There is no life without him."

"Tonight, I want you to try something different. Don't think about anything but the times you two were falling in love, dating, married, but don't think of the here and now or the future. Concentrate on the things Jason did or didn't do because of how much he loves you."

"You mean loved, past tense."

"No, I mean loves. Please do that for me, okay?"

"I'll try, but I can't promise."

"I know, just try. He loves you, Izzy, just open your eyes and look back, you'll see."

"You're not leading me on are you?" Tears began to stream down my cheeks as the stress of the day caught up with me. I truly thought I could no longer cry, but they came in torrents. "Cathy, I just want to die."

"I know, I've been there, not for the same reason, but I understand. All I'm asking is for you to give me— give love a chance. It deserves that. I'll pick you up tomorrow, but you'll have to dress a little nicer, okay?"

"Tomorrow's Sunday, isn't it? Nancy and Coach come by on Sundays."

"There's plenty of time. I'll pick you up at 8:00 o'clock."

"I'll do my best." I wiped my eyes.

"I know you will."

### Chapter 9

I hadn't unpacked anything since returning to Boonsboro, so I dug through the closet to see what I could find. I'd gained a little weight since I became human, but that had long since melted away, given the stress and uncertainty that was my existence. I'd tried to focus my thoughts on good times like Cathy suggested. I even managed to smile a couple of times. Despite that, the gnawing pain and emptiness still consumed me. Although Cathy had distracted me for a short time, a part of me—a very large part—still wanted to just lie down and die. I tried to eat something, but it was like I'd passed some invisible line and no matter what I ate, it just came right back up. I guess at least, my stomach got the message. If Coach and Nancy realized that, they wouldn't hesitate to hospitalize me. That couldn't happen.

I thought about running away, but I knew I wouldn't get far in my weakened condition, be easily found and no doubt end up in the hospital or worse, the place they put Cathy. Life without Jason was impossible, but the idea of being forced to endure it with tubes down my throat to feed me and IVs and drugs to keep me alive was terrifying. There were the pine trees—I could make it that far. Maybe after Sunday, I could go and wait for the inevitable. So, for now, there was nothing to do but endure whatever Cathy had planned. At least I could honestly tell Nancy and Coach that I'd gone out. A car turned into the driveway. I took a deep breath, just get through the day, I told myself.

"Makeup and all," Cathy said as I met her at the door.

"Is it too much?" I was wearing a dark, maroon sweater dress with black leggings and I'd applied the black eye shadow that I'd worn in high school—it helped hide my red, swollen eyes. I avoided eyeliner and mascara since I would no doubt just cry again and make a mess out of it.

"I love it, it's so you." She turned toward the steps. "Shall we?"

"So, we look like twins again. Why are you wearing all the makeup? I thought you gave that all up?" I asked.

"I have to work later and well, it helps with the image."

We got to the car and climbed in. I didn't bother to fight it this time.

"Guess what I do?"

"I have no idea what you could possibly do that would require you to wear heavy, black eye makeup."

"I'm a tattoo artist."

"Seriously?"

"It's just part time, but I've got quite a client list and it's growing all the time. Today, for example, I have a referral from a previous client." She started the car and we headed down the driveway. "It's just temporary while I'm in school, but I'm making a ton of money. People really like my work. Can you imagine?"

"Absolutely, you always did great work." I thought for a moment. "I don't think I could do the blood."

Cathy burst into laughter. "Now that's funny, dinner and a tattoo!" We turned right and Cathy slowed as we passed the Reno Monument.

"You remember?" Cathy asked.

"The historian's lair. Is it still there?"

"I think so, but it's boarded up. You have to promise not to look out the window. I want this to be a surprise and well, it won't be if you're checking street names and the surroundings."

"No tricks? I can't handle—"

"Trust me, okay."

"Okay." Let's see, we'd turned right out of my drive, then right again on Reno Monument Road. There wasn't much in that direction.

"Oh, and Jason told me about your little memory thing, listening for clues and counting turns, so I won't be taking a direct route."

"You talked to him? Where is—"

"I'm sorry, that didn't come out the right way. It was back in high school after your special made for two homecoming."

"That's alright, I shouldn't have assumed."

"What special things did you remember last night?" Cathy asked to change the subject.

I couldn't respond. The thought that Cathy had spoken to Jason, and then being wrong, brought all the painful emptiness back.

"That's okay, I understand." She turned right again. "You know, after yesterday one of my visions became much clearer."

"What is it?"

She looked over and winked. "All in good time, all in good time. Augh," she groaned, flicking on the windshield wipers. "I hate driving in the rain."

We drove for a while longer with the steady clunk, clunk, clunk of the wipers, and as we did, my mood became darker, gloomier. This was pointless. "Cathy, maybe we should do this another time. I'd rather go home."

"What happened—oh, you were faking it." She thought for a moment. "All my visions—even though they're murky, point to a happy ending. I won't kid you, there are obstacles along your journey, but it will end happily. Even with all your pain and sorrow, I know Jason still loves you. He never stopped. Whatever happened in college was the beginning of something new—a new chapter, but you have to be open to it."

Visions or not, it was impossible for her to feel the pain that consumed me, to have seen the pain in Jason's face that night. No road to happiness started like this. She was just like Nancy and Coach, coaxing me along, one day at a time, hoping the emptiness would dull with time. It was pointless pretending there could be any other outcome. "Can't you all just let me die?" I mumbled. I pulled the handle on my door and it unlatched against the wind. I unconsciously pushed against the swoosh of air and rain.

"No!" Cathy slammed on the brakes and skidded onto the shoulder of the short stretch of dual lane highway. When she couldn't reach past me to close the door, she pushed her door open.

She suddenly screamed as the car lurched forward. We were violently shaken by a huge gust of wind and water.

Cathy sat trembling, head resting on the top of the steering wheel—her door was gone. A few hundred feet ahead of us, an eighteen-wheeler pulled off the road. Cathy's crushed car door lay on the ground a distance ahead. She looked over at me with an icy stare, slowly put the car in gear and eased further off the side of the road, up to the remains of her door.

The guy from the semi was climbing down out of his cab.

Cathy checked my seatbelt and said, "Don't even think about moving. Got it!"

"I'm sorry, I just— I didn't think—" I burst into tears again.

"Don't move!"

Cathy got out of the car and met the semi driver at the crushed door. They exchanged insurance information and when I realized the conversation wasn't going to be confrontational, I looked away, toward the dense bank of trees and sank back into my massive black hole of despair.

When Cathy returned, she plopped back down on her seat. "He said he has some kind of special tape that they use on racecars and we can tape my door back on temporarily. Once we're finished, I'll take you to where I had planned, but then we'll have to go straight home."

"Just take me home. I almost got you killed. This isn't worth it—I'm not worth it."

"Tell you what. Stay focused the rest of this trip. If you still feel the same way tomorrow, I'll help you end it. The pine trees in the park, right?" she added matter of factly. "Deal?"

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Deal?" she reiterated.

I nodded. Even though it was what I wanted, I couldn't say yes to dying. I didn't know what that meant—that I wanted to live? Even if I did, it was impossible without Jason.

Sure enough, between Cathy and the truck driver they got her door taped to the side of the car. He even had a piece of clear plastic that they taped on in place of the window. The car looked horrible, but he swore it would get us home safe. Once Cathy was back behind the wheel, we started off again.

Cathy kept to the main roads, what seemed to be a more direct route and it wasn't long before I figured out where we were going.

"Stop the car!" I demanded. "You can't expect me to go there. Are you crazy?" Not the best way to phrase it.

"You know I'm not crazy, I have papers to prove it and you promised to see this through. A promise is a promise."

"I had no idea you were—"

"Doesn't matter, you promised. Besides, I arranged this so it would be more or less private."

"Right, we're going to waltz into the ICU and not see anyone."

"Just trust me already. Jeeze, you'd think I betrayed you before or something."

She pulled into a parking spot near the helipad. That was a night I would never forget. I was so afraid of losing Jason. At the time, it seemed impossible that he would survive. Cathy made a call and a few minutes later a nurse showed up and opened the door to the helipad.

"Here we go," Cathy said, motioning me out of the car.

"Hi, Cathy. Izzy. It's been a quiet night, so we should be fine." Nurse Greene held the door for us while we went inside. Although subtle, her visual exchange with Cathy was noticeable. "Right this way." She led us down the short hallway to the ICU.

I froze when I saw the room, our room. So many things happened there. Jason almost died, probably did more than once. My life as a vampire ended. My family left because I chose to stay with Jason, over them—over my very existence. Despite the horror of that night, I awoke in Jason's arms alive—human alive, and he survived, and we were going to live happily ever after.

"Reminiscing?" Cathy asked.

"What happened to Nurse Greene?" I diverted.

"Come on, in case we don't have much time."

The door swooshed open as we approached—I would never forget that sound—and then, we were standing in the room, according to the plague, The Whitaker/Faulkner Room.

Sure, there were some frightening, intense moments here, but what I remembered most, was waking up in Jason's arms. How he told me he loved me, until death do us part. I turned to Cathy. "Jason lied."

"No, he didn't. He still loves you, maybe even more now than on that day."

"Then why did he leave?"

"Exactly. Given how much he loves you, what could make him leave? Or maybe better phrased, what was he afraid of?"

"I never thought of it like that. I just assumed he didn't love me anymore—I wasn't good enough."

"You're so wrong. Like when you miss it, you really miss it. I know, because I can sense it. He loves you very deeply and wherever he is, he's afraid for you and somehow thinks that what he's doing is protecting you."

"From what?"

Cathy tilted her head like I was missing the obvious.

"No, not vampires, he can't think they would come after me."

Cathy shrugged. "It's certainly one possibility, but who am I to say? Don't you see, can't you feel how much he still loves you?"

The swoosh of the door kept me from answering.

"Izzy? Izzy Faulkner—I mean Whitaker?"

I glanced at Cathy. She'd obviously set this up too.

I tried to sound upbeat. "Hi, Doctor Diaz."

She rushed across the room, wrapped me in her arms and hugged me. I could feel her reaction immediately.

"You're so thin." She pushed me back. "It's true then? I can't believe it, not you and Jason."

"I think they're just on different pages—" Cathy said, "same music, just a different sheet."

"Sure," I added. "I think we were just so overwhelmed—well it just kind of caught up with us. I think we'll be fine." This time, it didn't quite feel like a lie when I said it.

"Thank God," Doctor Diaz said. "If the two of you can't make it, there's no hope for the rest of us."

It was quiet for a moment, nobody quite knowing what to say. I suspected Cathy had told Doctor Diaz a lot more than she led on.

Trying to avoid a lecture I said, "I'm not able to keep anything down. It's like I crossed some invisible line."

"That can happen," Doctor Diaz said. "How long have you been having problems?"

"Just a week I guess, maybe two. It seems like once or twice a day. Not everyday."

She nodded. "I'll write you a prescription for something to help, but I'd like to do a blood test, just to be on the safe side."

"I don't know," I said, apprehensively. I wasn't really sure what I was since I became _human_. For all I knew, I had some kind of unknown fluid running through my veins. A blood test seemed like a very bad idea.

"I could do it now," she offered, "and I can run the results right here. No one else needs to know. How would that be?"

"I guess, but no records, no keeping a sample or anything like that."

"No, of course not. I respect your privacy."

Doctor Diaz wasted no time retrieving the things she needed and drew a single vial of blood from my left arm. At least it looked like blood.

"I'll be right back." She started for the door.

"You said right here," I protested, "no one else."

"I'm going to run the test myself, just like I promised." With that, she was gone.

"You okay?" Cathy asked. "You look kind of pale."

She helped me over to the bed. I leaned, half sat against the edge. The room wasn't spinning, nothing like that, but I did feel light headed. While I knew this probably wasn't the actual bed, I squeezed the sheet in my hand, remembering it draped over Jason and me, the sparkle in his eyes when he rolled over and we made our first eye contact and the miracle we shared. We'd gone out, been a high school _item_ , and were officially married Spring Break, Senior Year, but we became one, one soul, one heart, on that December morning.

"One heart," I whispered. We were and always would be, one heart. So, if I was hurting, Jason must be hurting too.

"Did you say something?" Cathy asked.

"You're right."

"Of course—no wait." She stooped down to see my face and smiled. "You get it!"

I nodded. "Yes, I get it." I rolled slightly to the side, pulling the sheet up and hugging it to my chest. "And it happened here. He happened here. We happened here, one heart."

"It happened long before the two of you got here, but for sure what happened here was a miracle. Each of you fought so hard and by sheer will, became one." She leaned up against the bed next to me. "And there is more, so much more. Can't you feel him growing in your heart?"

"He is my heart, it beats because of Jason," I said his name without tears for the first time in a very long time. "But what now?"

The door swooshed open. "There, that didn't take too long," Doctor Diaz said entering the room. She paused, seeming to take us in. She had a curious expression at first, but smiled.

I kind of felt foolish clinging to a hospital sheet, so I let it slip from my grasp. As Doctor Diaz walked across the room, Cathy and I stood. Doctor Diaz glanced at Cathy with uncertainty.

"It's okay," I said, "she can hear whatever it is you have to say."

"Of course." She handed me the half empty vial of blood. "This is yours." She looked torn.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

She tapped her finger against her lower lip. "Your blood is, well, a little different."

"Is that why I'm sick to my stomach, or is it something worse?"

"No, on both counts." She smiled. "Just an unusual blip on the readout, I don't think you need to be concerned."

"Thanks for returning the vial anyway, I appreciate it." I took the news with mixed emotions. A _blip_ , could mean a lot of different things, or nothing at all like Doctor Diaz suggested, but some part of me wished that at least some semblance of my previous existence remained, perhaps the _blip_. "The nausea?" I asked.

"Well, that's a little more of an issue than I originally thought."

Cathy and I exchanged a worried glance.

"I'm glad we did the blood test."

"But you just said—"

She held up her hand to stop me. "The test did identify the reason you're having trouble keeping food down."

It definitely felt like she was holding something back, but I couldn't read her expression. Obviously, she had a magnificent bedside manner—yes, I remembered that from before.

"Why don't you give me back the script I wrote you."

I pulled the prescription out from under my sleeve, where I had tucked it away, and handed it back to her.

She walked over to the table near the door and wrote another script. "Here you go." She returned and handed it to me. "There is one thing, though, you're going to have to see a doctor on a regular basis."

"But I can't—"

"You're pregnant. I'd say about six or seven weeks."

"What!" I pushed off the side of the bed into Doctor Diaz's arms and hugged her.

"I take it then, this is happy news."

"Yes! Oh yes, thank you, thank you!" I hugged her again.

Suddenly the speaker in the room blared, "Doctor Diaz, call for Doctor Diaz, code blue."

"That would be me. Sorry, I have to run. I'm so glad I got to be the one to give you the news."

"Me too."

Cathy and I followed her to the door.

"I stapled Doctor Wilkinson's card to your script."

I glanced down at the paper in my hand and the doctor's card attached to the prescription.

"She's a great O.B. should you choose her, and right in Boonsboro."

The door swooshed open and the three of us stepped out into the hallway.

We started to go our separate ways, but Doctor Diaz hesitated.

"You sure you're going to be alright, Izzy?"

"Before today, no, but now, absolutely."

"The baby?" She looked a little disappointed.

"Partly, but much more than that. I think I found my center, a marker if you will, a place from which I can find my way. I owe that to you and Cathy."

"Make sure you eat, that little one depends on you." She smiled, that kind of fulfilled smile. "Good luck, I wish you all the best," she said and then hurried off to another emergency.

Cathy and I just stood there staring at one another. Could this really be happening?

### * * *

We were halfway back to Boonsboro when a question came to mind. "Cathy, yesterday when you said, 'the two of us', you 'had to do it for the two of us', did you know about the baby?"

She thought for a moment. "You know, I'm not really sure. I remember saying those exact words, but I don't know why I chose to phrase it like that. Perhaps on some level I knew, but not consciously. I was just as surprised back there as you. I'm so excited, for all three of you." She winked.

"Yeah, can you imagine?"

### Chapter 10

I'd been pacing for at least an hour, waiting anxiously for Nancy and Coach to arrive. I was exhausted—I just didn't have the stamina—and finally retreated to the sofa in the parlor. I was tired from two days of activity that far out weighted anything I'd done in weeks, but I was also excited to tell them about everything, my realization that something was wrong and Jason was trying to protect me—could I really tell them that? I might have to come up with a better story. Most of all, I wanted to tell them about the baby, but then, should I do that either?

On top of those immediate questions, how was I going to find Jason? I had to find him, not because of the baby—sure, that was part of it, but I had to tell him I was okay, we were okay and whatever it was he was trying to protect me from, we were better, stronger, facing it together. Cathy had some suggestions on the 'search and rescue' side, but then there was Nancy & Coach. They would be suspicious, and rightly so. I flinched when I heard a car on the gravel driveway.

I started pacing again. "Game plan, I need a freakin' game plan." I had nothing.

"Hello?" Nancy called from the foyer.

Crap, I hadn't changed my clothes. I was still wearing the dark, maroon knit dress and eye makeup, _black_ eye makeup. Nothing I could do about it now. I took a deep breath. Improvement, show a little improvement, but don't overdo it. I smoothed out my dress and started toward the foyer.

"I'm in here." I stepped into the open archway.

Coach's face lit up.

"Better?"

"I'll say." He turned to Nancy. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, what you're wearing looks nice." She was holding a large pot with two oven mitts. "I should put this in the kitchen." She headed off in that direction.

Coach shrugged. "Better." He winked. "Much better."

I followed him down to the kitchen. Nancy had already put the pot in the center of the table and was over by the sink getting bowls down out of the cabinets.

"It smells wonderful," I said. "What are we having?"

"Chicken noodle soup," Coach said. "Nothing like the healing power of Nancy's homemade chicken noodle soup."

"Perfect, I'm starving."

Nancy fumbled one of the bowls and almost dropped it. "You're hungry?"

"Starving."

Nancy set the table and dished out the soup. We said grace and then dug in.

"I'm sorry about in the foyer," Nancy began. "You really do look wonderful. Quite a change since last we saw you."

"I know, right. I have a lot to tell you—so much has happened since then." I slurped down another spoonful of soup. "This is Jason's favorite, right?"

Nancy nodded. "Yes. Your voice even sounds a little stronger." She exchanged a quick glance with Coach. They were skeptical as they probably should be.

"Cathy Hall came by yesterday," I said.

"We didn't—"

"I know—it did cross my mind, though," I laughed. "Well anyway, she finally got me out of the house." Oops, not quite the wording I was going for.

Coach nodded like he'd suspected my earlier ruse all along.

While we ate, I explained about Cathy's excursions and how they had helped me to see things differently. I left out the part about the accident. Nancy seemed suspicious at first, but in fairness, I think she was also afraid I was going to do what they'd been trying to get me to do all along, move on without her son. Of course, that was the furthest thing from my mind. I didn't like the fact that I was just winging it, but they were family—I was definitely crazy to be winging it.

"Would you like some more soup?" Nancy offered.

"Please." I held out my bowl and she dipped out another ladle full. "So," I continued, "whatever happened to Jason's Rover?"

"It's in our driveway," Nancy said. "Coach had a few minor problems repaired, but I think it's good as new."

"Yep," Coach said, "kids were kind of rough on the interior and did God knows what—well let's just say I had it thoroughly detailed inside and out. You lookin' for a set of wheels?"

"If you don't mind."

"Mind? It's your car. Besides, we all know you need wheels if you're going to do anything these days."

"That's great. Thank you so much." Great, yeah, just perfect. Now, what? I glanced at Nancy and then noticed the same conflicted expression on Coach's face. This wasn't going well, not well at all. Honest, I have to be honest. I don't have to say everything, just be honest. "The soup is great, Mrs. Whitaker."

"Mrs. Whitaker, now? What is it? What's troubling you?"

"Cards on the table?" I said.

"Cards on the table," Coach replied without hesitation.

"Okay. So, you remember when I ran away and Jason—"

"Absolutely not," Nancy said, pushing back from the table.

Coach reached over and put his hand on top of hers. "Yes," he said, "I think it's safe to say we both remember."

"Well, I know Jason came to you for advice. Do you remember what you told him?"

A wry smile crossed Coach's face as he nodded approval. Probably not for what I was thinking, but more for how I approached it. He looked at Nancy as if to calm her, but her expression said fear—still said no. "I believe my words were something along the lines of, you had to go with your gut, go after what you want in this life—what's important to you above all else. In Jason's case, we all know that was you." He looked back at Nancy and squeezed her hand. "I believe his mother had him plan out the entire trip to prove he could do it before—"

"I reluctantly agreed," Nancy completed the sentence.

"So you understand that I have to find him? At least try?"

They stared at one another for a long minute before Nancy finally answered. "No."

"But—"

"The situation is completely different," she said. "Jason at least had some idea where to start."

"Hold on now," Coach interjected, "who's to say she doesn't have a plan. You have a plan, right?"

"Well, you said the Rover is good to go and money isn't an issue. I'm not in school and well, I'll have company."

"And that would be?" Nancy probed.

"Cathy agreed—no, wants to go with me at least until school starts again."

"So you're thinking this could take awhile?" Coach rocked back in his chair. "You've hit some key points, all valid, but I don't see a plan."

Nancy slid her hand out from under Coach's, reached across the table and grasped mine. "I know legally you can do whatever you want. I know you're being kind to ask for our blessing, but just the other day, you could barely stand. I don't think you're healthy enough for something like this."

I held a spurt of anger but added. "Or mentally sound enough, right?"

Nancy frowned, not an angry frown, but a sad, desperate one.

"Doctor Diaz gave me some medicine for the nausea. I had subs with Cathy this afternoon."

"You didn't say you saw Doctor Diaz," Nancy said. "How is she?"

"Great, she's great, busy, but great." I hesitated. I didn't want to pull the 'legal age' card Nancy had already pointed out.

"Why now, Izzy?" Coach asked. "Why not wait a couple of weeks so you can get your legs under you again—think things through—plan."

"You mean change my mind." I slipped my hand out of Nancy's and stood. "I'm sorry." My face flushed with anger for a moment. "No, I'm not, I have to do this. I have to do this now before—"

"Why?" they both asked. It wasn't a challenge, more concern than anything.

I sat back on my chair and glanced at the floor for a moment before I continued. "Okay, I didn't want to tell you like this, but well, I don't see any other option." I looked up into their worried faces.

"Did you seek out Doctor Diaz?" Nancy asked. "Is it something serious?"

"No, no, nothing like that, but yes, she did check me over and by the way, said I was perfectly fine—well I needed to gain a little weight, but I was completely normal—almost." I was being cruel, not what I'd intended. I reached my hands out across the table, one toward each of them. I waited until each of them had grasped my hands.

"That serious?" Nancy whispered.

"Yes," I smiled. "You're going to be grandparents. I'm pregnant!"

"Well bless my soul," Coach said. "Now that there is some good news."

"Is it?" Nancy said, drawing her hand back.

"You don't mean that," Coach scolded. "Of course it is. Why I bet the little rascal is going to be a star quarterback one of these days. Ol' Grandpa can teach him a thing or two, not to mention his father. Jason—" Coach abruptly stopped. He looked deeply into Nancy's eyes and then mine. He scratched his chin for a few moments before continuing. "You need your doctor's approval," he said, reverting back to the original topic of discussion.

"Agreed," I said. "Doctor Diaz gave me the card of a local OB, a Doctor Wilkinson. She said she was wonderful."

"Helen Wilkinson?" Nancy questioned.

"Oh, wait, I have it right here." I'd forgotten I still had the script and Doctor Wilkinson's card tucked up my sleeve. Here it is. "Doctor Cynthia Wilkinson," I read.

"My, my," Nancy said, "I remember when her mother was the best OB in town.

Coach turned back to me. "Assuming the doctor gives you the okay, I want you to give it a few days. You haven't even started the medication. You want to be sure your body is sound. It's obvious your spirits have improved. Is the baby the reason for the sudden change?"

Nancy seemed to nod accepting the idea that indeed the baby was the cause of my sudden change in mood.

"No. Actually, I decided I had to find him before I found out I was pregnant."

Nancy gently shook her head from side to side. "Why, Izzy? You were so sure it was the end—so sure it was over."

"I know, right. I mean seriously, we're talking about me and Jason, the two most made-for-one-another people in the world." I broke off. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound flip. After everything I've been through, and the things Cathy had me do, I came to realize that Jason would never just leave me. More importantly, he probably left because of me."

Nancy's expression changed to suspicion again, or perhaps worry. "You blame yourself." She shook her head.

"Not anything I did, or said, but because he loves me. I don't think he considered my feelings, though." I scooted my chair closer to the table and lowered my voice. "You both know Jason loves me, and now, well so do I. I was so hurt by what happened, I didn't think it through. Coach, I'm not sure how much you really know about us—the less the better probably, but neither of you can have forgotten homecoming—that hideous man."

"Monster," Nancy corrected.

If she only knew. "I think Jason left so abruptly because he had some noble idea that he was protecting me. In his mind, I was in danger and by leaving, he would draw the danger away."

Coach scratched his head. "Sounds logical, but makes absolutely no sense. Who would want to hurt you?"

Nancy looked at him. "Some things you have to take on faith." She grasped his hand pulled it toward her, and then looked at me. " _Are_ you in danger?"

Coach scooted his chair closer to her and she rested her head against his shoulder.

"No," I replied.

"Is Jason in danger?" she asked.

"I don't think so," I lied. They were coming around and I so wanted their approval. I needed a closer, something to sway them, something they couldn't argue, something that would put Jason's actions in perspective. "This is a bit embarrassing, but after the game, when Jason came home, we celebrated. He was," I hesitated, "different."

Coach squirmed awkwardly in his chair.

Nancy grimaced. "You're not saying he abused—"

"No! The point is, he felt bad about it. It really upset him, but it goes beyond that."

"How so?" Nancy asked.

"Did you see his last game?"

"On the computer." Coach jumped at the change of subject. "It wasn't on the regular channels, but he called and talked me through the setup on the computer."

"So you saw him play," I concluded.

"Oh, yes," Nancy chimed in, "we were both so proud. After the game, the announcers said they'd never seen anything like it."

"It? What it?" I asked.

Coach picked up the conversation again. "Do you remember that day you strutted out onto my football field?"

"Yes."

"Well, it was kind of like that, but the other way around."

"I don't follow," I said, even more confused.

He eased Nancy up and then leaned forward. "It was like this. Those knuckleheads weren't going to catch one of Jason's passes out of a crazy, misplaced loyalty to the Curly kid. You marched out on the field, and like an idiot, I went along." He slapped both of his knees and then leaned forward again. "Jason dropped back and launched a bomb and what I didn't say at the time—What was that boy's name that got hurt?"

"Andy," I said. "He ran into the goal post and broke his collarbone."

"Right, Andy. Anyway, what I didn't say at the time is that I've never seen anyone in my entire life run as fast as you did—almost superhuman speed."

"If I recall, you said, 'except on Sundays'."

He nodded. "I believe you're right." He pointed at me. "In bare feet, I believe."

"So, sure, I remember." I replayed Andy's crash into me—not the goal post as I made everyone believe, the ambulance, Jason's deep concern for me. But I didn't see any connection. "All that happened, but what does it have to do with Jason?"

"Well, during the Spring Game, he threw a humanly impossible pass. They must have shown it ten times after the game and the announcers, rightly so, went on and on about it. Jason threw the ball fifty yards _on a rope_ ," he emphasized.

"'On a rope,'" I confirmed. Then I was wrong—I had this all wrong. Jason didn't leave me because of some unknown danger; he left because he thought _he_ was the danger. His concern over hurting me, his sudden strength—even Blake noticed—his leaving without an explanation—at least he came back to say goodbye. He loved me enough to do that. Oh my, God, he's changing—becoming a vampire. No wonder he left so abruptly. He was afraid he'd kill me. The potion, now what? I glanced at Nancy and Coach's probing expressions. They thought something, but they had no idea of the reality of the situation. Honest, but not divulging, I reminded myself.

"Then that must be it," I said. He's afraid of himself. Maybe it's an after-effect of his recovery, or, or, I don't know, but it makes perfect sense. He was afraid he was going to hurt me, so in his mind, he had to leave."

"Do you really think it's that simple?" Nancy asked. "There are so many other options he could have chosen."

"It all fits; it has to be the reason. Remember how strong his arm got after he was shot in the shoulder? There must be something about the physiology of his muscles that can produce incredible strength after an injury. That must be happening again."

We all leaned back in our chairs to consider the possibility. It was like a visible sigh. After a moment, Nancy rested her head on Coach's shoulder again. Would they buy it? I shuttered, a vampire, I thought that part of my existence was over. Jason would be a remarkable vampire, though, beautiful beyond belief. My blood must have had the same effect on him as his did on me, absolutely irresistible. He'd left while he still had the will to do so. My gaze sank to my belly. "The baby," I whispered.

"What's that, dear?" Nancy said.

"Oh, nothing important."

She looked up into Coach's eyes, forced a smile and then straightened up. "If you're up to it, you can ride over to the house with us to pick up the Rover. That way, you'll have it for your appointment." She stood, walked around the table to a place behind me and then wrapped her arms around me in a gentle hug. "Promise you won't leave without saying goodbye."

I looked up into her misty eyes. "I promise." I turned to Coach. "And I promise I will give myself a few days to build up some strength and work out a strategy."

"That a girl."

I glanced at one, then the other and continued. "I'll do my very best to find him and bring him home. I know I'm not the only one who misses him."

"That's all we can hope for," Nancy said.

### * * *

An hour later, I pulled into my driveway in Jason's Rover, the gift my parents had given him for rescuing me. I shuttered at the thought—at what Jason had gone through for me. Nancy had given me a large envelope of papers, which she said were Jason's original plan to find me. She wasn't sure if they would be of any help—neither was I, but it might give me an idea of how Jason approached the task and ultimately some insight as to where he might have gone. I sat out front in the Rover for a while. Sure, Coach had it cleaned, but I could still make out Jason's scent and it intensified my yearning for him. "I will find you, Jason Whitaker," I whispered. "I will." I finally got out of the truck and wandered over to the edge of the forest—the forest I'd stared at for almost two months. "Just a few more days."

### * * *

Would our baby be a problem? He wouldn't want to change me and kill the baby, but vampires couldn't change babies either—it was the law. I felt my abdomen—no, I couldn't abort the pregnancy either. "How could this have happened?" I said as I unlocked the front door and went inside. We'd both assumed that I could never have children. Obviously, we were wrong.

### * * *

I was fortunate and got an early cancellation appointment with Doctor Wilkinson. Actually, I think Doctor Diaz might have tipped her off that I probably would be calling. Doctor Wilkinson was gentle, thorough and as wonderful as I'd been told. She wasn't thrilled about my travel plans but agreed if I would limit my driving time each day. She was also concerned about my weight. I think she could tell that I'd turned a corner, though, and just prescribed some prenatal vitamins. It had been three days since my appointment. It was time.

### Chapter 11

I pulled up in front of Cathy's house and lightly tapped the horn. Cathy came to the door but waved for me to come to her. Great, not really in the plan. Hope this isn't going to be a problem.

"Oh, hi Mrs. Hall. How are you?" I said as I stepped inside.

Cathy's mom gave me a big hug and then held me at arm's length. "Is it true?"

I looked to Cathy for some clue as to what _it_ was. Cathy rubbed her belly and shook her head from side to side. Well, at least her mom didn't know about the baby.

"Mom," Cathy finally interjected. "I told you not to press."

"I'm sorry, it's just hard to believe Jason would run off like that."

"Don't worry, Mom, we'll find him."

"I have a pretty good idea where to start at least," I said. It wasn't a complete lie—close, though.

"We really have to run, Mom, before the traffic gets bad." Cathy grabbed a suitcase and I leaned down and picked up her backpack.

Mrs. Hall hugged Cathy, and then me again. "You two girls be careful."

"We will," Cathy said.

"And don't forget to call," she shouted after us as we descended the stairs and then headed down the sidewalk toward the Rover.

"Isn't that Jason's?"

"Yea, Mom." We threw Cathy's things in the back with mine and headed for the front doors. "Bye, I love you."

Cathy's mom was still waving when I turned the corner.

I looked over at Cathy. "You sure you're okay with this?"

"Yep. Besides, how are you going to find him without me?" She opened a granola bar. First stop, Georgia."

"We'll get there, but definitely not the first stop."

### * * *

We were somewhere near Bristol, Tennessee on Route 81 South when we made our first stop. I stumbled as I got out of the Rover but caught myself on the rearview mirror.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just really stiff."

"We should probably get something to eat instead of just a gas and go, _mommy_."

"Cute. If you don't mind driving, I'm okay with a gas and go."

"If you say so."

When we went in to pay for the gas, we grabbed some snacks, even a couple of healthy ones, and then we were back out on the road again.

While I felt a hundred times better, mostly because I was finally doing something, I was still weak and tired easily. Cathy was a godsend if you can call a witch a godsend. It wasn't long before I fell asleep.

### * * *

It was dark when I awoke. "I need to stop," I said, and then added, "Where are we?"

"Georgia."

The Rover shook as an eighteen-wheeler sped past. Cathy eased off the gas and headed for the exit up ahead. While she filled the Rover with gas, I headed for the ladies room. We met up at the checkout.

"Is there a decent place to eat around here?" I asked the clerk.

The cashier motioned toward the other side of the store and a connected room. "Tom's Burger Bar is a pretty _decent place_ and won't cost you an arm and a leg neither."

"Thanks, guess we'll give Tom's a try."

"Ladies," a truck driver said in passing. He tipped his hat and bobbed his brow.

Cathy and I looked at each other in astonishment. After he was out of earshot, we both burst out laughing.

Tom's burgers lived up to the recommendation. Juicy, thick, messy and delicious. The seasoned curly fries were a great side and the cherry cobbler was, wow! Of course, I was starving and pregnant. I did make sure to take one of the nausea pills before we ate.

"How far to the Faulkner Mansion?" Cathy asked.

"Not far. I can take it from here."

"Ya'll knows it ain't there?" the guy behind the counter, presumably Tom, said.

"A fire, right?" I replied.

"Yes 'em, three alarm if I recall. Ain't the first time neither. Folks figure the place is cursed or somethin'."

"Interesting," Cathy chimed in.

"I wouldn't go pokin' round there if'n I was you."

I turned toward Tom. "The mansion actually belongs to my family."

"My apologies, ma'am, didn't mean no disrespect."

"None taken. Has anyone asked about the mansion recently? Maybe directions?"

"Nah, 'fraid not." He turned and went back behind the grill, out of sight.

I turned to Cathy. "Was a long shot anyway."

"Come to think of it," Tom's voice came from behind the grill and then he reappeared at the counter. "Young feller was in here not long ago askin' 'bout the place."

"Really." I got up, grabbed my wallet out of my purse and headed toward the counter. I showed Tom a picture of Jason.

"Yes 'em, that be the fella."

"He's my husband."

"What? You don't look old enough to have yourself a husband." He scratched his head and then rubbed his bristly face. The burger suddenly didn't seem quite as good.

"I'm a lot older than I look."

Cathy laughed. "Trust me, she is, I know."

Tom seemed perplexed but wandered back behind the grill without another word.

"Thanks," I called after him, "I really appreciate it."

Cathy wadded up the rest of her burger in the wrapper and tossed it into the trash. I guess she'd seen the same thing I did.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Ready."

Half an hour later we pulled into the parking lot at Kelly's B&B, the place where the biker gang had stayed. It was creepy, but the only option besides sleeping in the car and neither Cathy nor I were up for that. Despite my uneasiness, the place was pretty nice and we got a good-sized room with two twins. Finally, after a long day, we were tucked in and the lights were out.

"I love you," I whispered, ever so softly.

"I love you too," Cathy replied, propping herself up on an elbow, looking my way. "Just kidding. Well not really. What about tomorrow?"

"I don't know, I guess we just look around and see if we can find some kind of sign that he actually is, or was there."

"What if you're right about him changing and he is there, what then?"

"You're right, I didn't think of that."

"He might not have the control to run away this time."

"I don't care if he changes me, but—"

"From what you've told me, and what I've learned on my own, he probably won't have the ability to stop—he'd kill you. Remember what you told me about his father as a vampire?"

"Right again. He might kill you too." I rolled over on my side to face her. "I'll go alone, I won't put you in that kind of danger. If I don't comeback—well you'll know what happened."

The room was quiet for a time, deathly quiet. I'd rolled back over on my back when Cathy suddenly got up, came over and sat on the edge of my bed.

"I've got a better idea." She held out her hands to me. "Take my hands and close your eyes."

I did as she asked. Suddenly my cell phone rang. We both looked toward the nightstand. "It's Jason's mom," I said, "I should answer."

"Yes, yes, by all means."

"Hi, Nancy, you guys managing? I know this is difficult."

"Always thinking of others first." She repeated what I said to Coach. "Where are you?"

"Georgia. The plan is to go by the mansion in the morning."

"That's where Jason was shot." The quiver in her voice telegraphed her apprehension.

"It's okay, we'll be fine. We actually have a room in the hotel where the bikers stayed."

"No!" Again she repeated what I said to Coach.

"Izzy," Coach's voice came over the phone, "we'd really rather you not—"

"It's okay, Coach, there's nothing to worry about. The danger that was there has long passed. The mansion is nothing more than a pile of rubble."

"What are you hoping to find?"

There was a shuffling sound and then, Nancy was back on the phone. "Are you certain it's safe?"

"Yes, everything is fine. We're going to have a look around the grounds tomorrow and see if there are any signs that Jason has been there or, hopefully, is there."

"You really think he would go back to where he was—"

"I don't know, but we have to check it out. Like Coach said, we have a plan, now we just need to see it through and hope for the best. The mansion is the first step."

"You run along, I'll be up in a minute," she said to Coach, but then it sounded like she either gave him the phone or he took it from her.

"Izzy, you girls be careful you hear. There's a lot of crazies out there—just be careful."

"We will, promise." There was a long silence. "Coach?"

"I love you, girl, be careful."

"I love you too." It was so unlike him to express emotion like that. He must really be worried. "Baby is fine, I'm fine."

"Yes you are," he said. "Don't take too much stock in what Nancy is going to tell you."

It sounded like she might have slapped his shoulder.

"Go on now," she said, "you don't even know if I was going to mention it."

In the background, Coach said, "Oh yes I did." His footsteps faded up the stairs.

"Nancy?"

Cathy silently mouthed, "What's going on?"

I shrugged.

"Izzy," Nancy said very softly, "I just wanted to tell you that I had the strangest feeling this afternoon."

"Your heart? Are you all right?"

"No, no, nothing like that. It was more like I felt Jason's presence. I went out back to look around. I even wandered down by the creek where you two used to meet, but I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Do you think it's possible he would come here and not want to see me?"

I paused for a moment. If he had been there, at least his mom was still alive. Although, maybe she wouldn't have the allure to him she had to me. No, wait, his father definitely wanted Jason.

"I don't know," I covered. "I'd think since I'm not there, he certainly would have come to see you, to explain his side. Maybe you were just hoping too much."

"You're probably right, but it was so surreal. Well, I know you need your rest. Goodnight." The phone went dead before I could reply.

"Is Jason in Boonsboro?" Cathy huffed in utter disbelief.

"No, I don't think so, although his mom is pretty adept at picking up on things. Still, if he was there, he would see her, right?"

"Not if he's a vampire."

"True." I put the phone down and held my hands out to Cathy. "Only one way to find out."

There was a strange sensation when she grasped my hands, but not like when I was a vampire—nothing close to that intensity.

"It's been a long time, I'm not sure how this will go," Cathy cautioned.

"I know; we'll just see what happens. What do you want me to do?"

"Try to clear your thoughts. Think about the foliage outside your window back home." She rolled my hands over until they were palms up. Ever so slowly, she gently began to rub her thumbs in tiny circles against my palms, the circles moving to the edges of my hand, and then back to the center.

I closed my eyes expecting some kind of image or deepening sensation of Jason's presence, but there was nothing. Gradually, the foliage became Jason's smiling face and then—nothing.

"Izzy? Izzy? Can you hear me?"

"What—what happened?" I stuttered as I regained consciousness. I was limply lying across Cathy's lap almost paralyzed. A tingling sensation began in my hands and feet growing until my limbs were usable again. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

Cathy seemed apprehensive, confused, but waited until I could sit up. "What do you remember?"

"Nothing. I was looking at the forest like you said, then Jason's face, and then, nothing."

"No sense of time?"

"What do you mean?"

She shifted uncomfortably.

"Come on Cathy, you promised. What happened?"

"Your _nothing_ , lasted almost an hour."

"Okay, and?"

"I don't know, it's jumbled, everything out of place, out of sync." Her pupils were so large they nearly eclipsed the blue of her eyes. "It's like—but that can't be right, maybe—but no, that can't be either."

"Take a breath, slow down and tell me what you saw, as you saw it, one image at a time."

"Okay," she said, "let's see, first I saw Jason, but I don't know if it was now or from the past."

"Think hard, what was he wearing?"

"A jacket. Yes, he was wearing a jacket."

"Do you remember the color?"

Her pupils darted from side to side as if she were watching a movie clip go by. "Orange. I think it was orange."

"Then it must be recent. His high school letterman's jacket was Warrior Blue. He was wearing an orange Clemson hoody when I last saw him."

"Yes, yes, it was a hoody. He was close, close to you. There was—no, that's not right—no wait—no, there was nothing else, just Jason in his orange hoody."

It looked like that was a dead end so I said, "Let's move on, what else?"

"The mansion, it's white with six grand pillars—"

"The ones on the corners are wrapped in ivy," I added from my memory of the Georgia mansion before the fire.

"No, there was no ivy."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, absolutely." Her gaze became distant. "There was a passageway, maybe a tunnel—we were there, you and I. There was a wine cellar, 'Yes, ma'am, certainly, anything you'd like.'"

"Who was that?"

"A butler, or caretaker, someone like that. 'Right this way, ladies.' He's not alone, there are others. "'Thank you ma'am, you're most gracious'—running, you're running. Faster, faster, but you can't get there—he's gone." Cathy snapped out of it suddenly. "It doesn't make any sense." She drew in a tired breath. "Should we try again?"

As much as I wanted to say yes, I was exhausted and Cathy looked really frazzled. "No, I think that's enough for tonight."

Cathy got up, went to her bed and pulled the covers up to her neck. "I'm sorry I wasn't more helpful."

"Maybe you were. We'll just have to wait and see. Get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a busy day. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she whispered. There was fear in her voice, but she added, "It's safe for me to come with you tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

### * * *

We packed up silently the next morning. The exhaustion of the evening had led to a sound nights sleep and I felt better than I had in a longtime. Deep down I knew it was a long shot, but I still hoped that maybe today we would find Jason, or at least a clue to where he might be. I checked us out at the front desk while Cathy showered and then we loaded up the Rover.

"Ready?"

"I hope so," Cathy replied.

I drove the short distance to the entrance to the mansion. I was surprised to see the sign was still up. I didn't remember it surviving the mayhem. As we emerged from the orchard, I slammed on the brakes, skidding on the gravel to an abrupt stop.

"What?" Cathy asked.

"The mansion, it's been rebuilt."

"Six, grand-white columns, no ivy," Cathy said.

"Then what you saw wasn't from the past, at least not the distant past." I looked over at Cathy. Her awareness of the tunnel from the wine cellar concerned me. "I want you to wait in the car until I know it's safe, okay?"

"It's safe, and you and I both know the car wouldn't be any safer, but I'll wait."

"Maybe you should drive back to the B&B and wait for me to call you," I suggested.

"Nah, the car is fine. Besides, _both in it together_ , right?"

I let off the brake pedal and we continued up the drive to the front of the mansion. The front door opened and a rotund man waddled gracefully—if that's possible—down the steps to greet us.

"Good morning, ladies, we've been expecting you."

Cathy licked her finger and made an imaginary mark in the air.

He opened my door and offered me his hand to help me get out of the car.

"Thank you." I grasped his white-gloved hand and stepped out onto the cobblestone drive. Everything was like I remembered it, except for the ivy.

"My name is Hollingsworth and I am at your service, Mrs. Whitaker."

"How do you know my name?"

He chuckled. "Right this way, ma'am." I rested my hand in the crook of the arm he offered and he led me up the porch steps.

I wasn't prepared for the entourage that greeted us. There were six people, from their clothing, presumably cleaning, maintenance and two tour guides. I forgot their names almost as soon as we were introduced. Once the introductions were complete, Hollingsworth clapped his hands and everyone went off in different directions, presumably to continue with whatever it was they were doing.

"Have you had any visitors recently?" I asked, not wanting to leave Cathy out in the car too long.

"Quite a few actually. Business has picked up considerably since the recent tragedy in South Carolina. There seems to be a renewed interest in history."

"Have the owners been by?"

He laughed, a full belly laugh this time. "You'll forgive me, ma'am. Mr. Whitaker said you would be surprised. You and your husband are the owners."

"My husband told you that?"

"Yes, of course. Mr. Faulkner left strict instructions—"

"Benjamin Faulkner?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you recall when my husband was last here?"

"We only keep a record of visitors, you all come and go as you see fit. I'm afraid I don't know precisely."

"Was it in the last few months? Weeks?"

"Yes, on both accounts." He looked toward the door. "Would you care for something to drink, ma'am?"

"Yes, thank you, a glass of water and a sweet tea if you have it."

"Certainly." He turned toward the hall that led to the kitchen.

"I'm going to get my friend, I'll be right back."

"Excellent." He waddled off down the hallway.

Cathy was standing next to the Rover when I got out to the front porch. "Told you."

I waved her toward me. "Come on, Jason's been here."

She raced up the steps. "Is he still here?"

"If he is, Hollingsworth doesn't know it."

"Hollingsworth?"

"He says Jason and I are the owners and he was expecting me. Jason must have known I'd come looking for him."

"What if he's still here?" Cathy bit at one of her fingernails.

"Come inside."

Hollingsworth met us in the grand foyer and then escorted us to the adjacent sitting room. I couldn't help but remember the bullets tearing open the walls last time I was here—splinters flying everywhere. Cathy and I sat on identical furniture from that day—furniture that had been consumed in the fire.

The water was for me. I couldn't wait to see Cathy's reaction to sweet tea.

"God!" She puckered. "I won't sleep a wink if I drink this."

"It grows on you. It really does, I'm not kidding. I just figure—"

"Right, gotcha."

I glanced up at Hollingsworth. "Would you mind if we looked around?"

"Ma'am, this is yours. Please, make yourself at home."

"Is the wine cellar still here?"

A strange look creased his brow but was gone in an instant. "Of course, right this—"

"That's alright, I remember the way." I stood and Cathy joined me.

"Should you need anything, anything at all, ma'am, I shall be in the office."

"Office?" That was something new.

"Ah," he exclaimed seeming to realize that he had some tidbit of information that I didn't already know. "Next to the sun room, ma'am."

"Thank you."

"Very well then." He clicked his heels and was off.

Cathy followed me to the kitchen and then down the narrow staircase to the wine cellar. I slowly scanned down the bottles trying to remember which one opened the door to the underground passage that had saved our lives—where a wounded Jason was so brave while I removed the bullet from his shoulder. A smile parted my lips as I remembered his intoxicated state afterwards.

"What?" Cathy asked.

"Nothing. I think it's this one." I pushed the bottle inward and a portion of the wine rack swung open.

"We're going down there?" Cathy gasped.

"Just me, you stay here. If anything happens, get away as fast as you can."

"I can't outrun a—" She glanced around. "vampire, you know that."

"I know, but I should keep him busy for a little while. Just try." I gave her a hug and then descended the narrow staircase. I found the light switch in the dark and the low wattage, incandescent bulbs faintly lit the tunnel. I took a deep breath, looked up at Cathy's frightened face and then started down the passageway.

It was much longer than I remembered, but I finally reached the pool of water that led to the river. Shouldn't the water be still? It wasn't. He must have been here. I turned and raced back up the passageway. I bolted up the stairs, passed a shocked Cathy until I reached the front porch. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw someone head into the remains of the garden. I pursued.

'Faster, faster, but you can't get there— he's gone.' I remembered Cathy saying that back in our room. When I reached the river, I was exhausted and there was no sign of anyone else. I sank down to my knees to catch my breath. A sort time later, Cathy caught up.

"Was it Jason?" I huffed, still trying to catch my breath.

"I don' think so."

"I thought I saw him."

"Let me hold your hands while the image is fresh in your mind."

"Right." I leaned to the side and sat down. "Here." I held up my hands.

Cathy grasped my hands in hers, closed her eyes and began to sway from side to side. Finally, she opened her eyes.

"Yes?" I hoped.

"It was someone, definitely a human form. There were moments it looked like Jason, but I think it was because you wanted it to be. I didn't recognize the man."

"It was a man. You met my family, one of them?"

She thought for a moment. "No, I didn't recognize this man."

"Wait," I said, getting to my feet, "you never saw Nathan, he was on patrol that night at the stadium."

I described Nathan to her, but she couldn't be sure one-way or the other. We started back toward the house. I hadn't noticed before, but the garden was a total loss and unlike the house, had not been replaced. It was Elizabeth's favorite place on the grounds. I may never see her again, but I could send her a message that I still loved her. "Come on, there's something I need to do." I picked up the pace.

Once inside the house, I led Cathy straight to the office. "You mind waiting?"

"No, of course not." She sat in one of the ornately engraved chairs outside the office.

"Mr. Hollingsworth," I said stepping into his office, closing the door behind me. "Do we make a profit?" The question seemed to shock him, as if I were questioning his ethics. "No, no, you misunderstand, I just don't know."

The tension in his face eased. "Yes, ma'am, we do quite well compared to many of the historical sites."

"Forgive me for being blunt, but how much?"

This time the shock on his face was almost humorous. He was obviously not used to discussing such things so openly. "Approximately two thousand dollars a month. It is directly deposited into your account. It does vary from month to month as you might expect. I can get you exact figures—"

"That's not necessary, your word is good."

"Thank you ma'am."

"I want the gardens replanted with mature plants. All of them need to look exactly like they did before the fire, especially the ones on the west side of the house. Can you see that it's done?"

"Yes, of course. We have a vast inventory of photographs that can be used for reference."

"Perfect. I want you to divide up our profit each month. Put the first one thousand dollars toward the gardens and then I want you to split the remainder evenly between all of you who tend to the mansion. Not in their salaries, but as a bonus, under the table, if possible."

"Thank you ma'am. That is most gracious of you."

"That includes you too. Okay then, you all are doing a great job and Jason and I really appreciate it. I'll look forward to seeing the gardens. Goodbye." I offered my hand expecting him to shake it, but instead, he stood and bowed.

"I'll escort you out," he said, handing me a small packet with a brochure about the mansion.

Cathy and I walked on either side of Hollingsworth locked arm-in-arm until we reached the car. He opened and held the door for each of us and once we were inside the Rover, retreated to the front steps. Several of the other workers appeared out of nowhere to join him. They were still waving when we turned down through the orchard.

### Chapter 12

We rolled to a stop at the main road. I looked left for any oncoming traffic and then to my right, but I couldn't see past the sign, a light-gray oval outlined in gold painted trim that read, _The Faulkner Plantation_. Under that, in smaller letters, _In memory of simpler times_.

I looked over at Cathy. "Are we doing the right thing?"

"Sure, stick to the plan, right?"

I shifted into reverse and backed away from the main road, off to the side of the gravel drive, under an expansive old oak. "Something's not right. I just have this feeling like we missed something. There isn't any timeline in the plan, right? So nothing says we have to leave so quickly."

"I guess."

"What do your senses tell you, did we miss something?"

She thought for a moment before answering. "Honestly, no. Maybe you want something to be here so you're projecting again, trying to make it so, like you did with that man, thinking—no wishing it was Jason."

"You think I'm crazy," I said matter-of-factly.

She choked. "I don't think that's the word I would have chosen." Her stomach growled. "Sorry, I'm starving. Is there a place to eat around here?"

"There's the biker bar where Jason and I ate. You know, come to think of it, it was kind of a vampire hangout."

"Soooo," she drug out the word, "we definitely don't want to go there, and _biker bar_ sounds even less appealing than Tom's."

"I don't know."

She twisted in her seat until she was facing me. "Listen, I'm all for helping—it's why I'm here, but that doesn't include some kind of sadistic death wish. We're trying to find Jason, not vampires. God help us if they find us."

"Right, I guess." I pulled forward and started to turn right, but slammed on the brakes as a car, horn blaring, sped past. I glanced over at Cathy. She was fuming. "Honest, I didn't see it."

We drove for about half an hour when I spotted a sign for the interstate. Sure enough, there were several fast food places to choose from. I let Cathy pick. We went through the drive-thru and then I parked in a shady corner of the parking lot. It was hot, so we rolled down the windows and let the gentle breeze drift through the car. The South had such an honest, earthy aroma. Benjamin was exactly right when he said, 'it was the land that bound southerner's together as one people.'

"Did you take your nausea pill?" Cathy said.

"Yes, _mommy_ and my prenatal vitamin."

Cathy let out a long slow sigh, "Prenatal. I still can't believe you're pregnant."

And my little baby wasn't going to wait around for me to find his father. The clock was ticking. I wiped the grease from my fingers and set my chicken leg in the little, paper basket it came in. "Word game."

"Okay?" Cathy said.

"I want you to close your eyes, then I'm going to say a word and I want you to say the first thing that comes to mind. No cheating, the first thing."

"I know how to play," She groaned, not looking at all thrilled about the idea.

If I was going to find out how she really felt, I would have to ease into this, easy words first.

"Boonsboro," I said.

"Anger."

That surprised me, but at least it seemed honest. "Alex."

"Hope."

"That's nice," I said.

She looked annoyed.

"Okay. Umm, peach."

"Fuzzy."

Not what I expected again. "Faulkner."

"Danger."

"Why danger?"

"I don't know. The first word, right?"

I nodded but went through the next words quickly. "Leave."

"Stay."

"Stay," I repeated.

"Vampire."

"Vampire," I repeated.

"Hope."

"Hope," I repeated.

"Stay. That's enough!" Cathy said. She looked very annoyed—perplexed.

I thought for a minute. "Okay, you said Alex equates to hope."

She blushed. "Yes, he's my hope for the future."

"But when I said vampire, you also said hope. And, when I said leave, you said stay." I picked up my chicken and nibbled the last bite off the bone. "That's it then, we're staying." Once I swallowed, I asked, "Why do you think the Faulkners are in danger?"

"I don't know. Maybe they're not, maybe I just associate them with danger."

"But you know them, you know they're not dangerous to humans."

"Maybe, but remember that tiger that mauled his trainer in Vegas? Things can change in an instant."

"Do you really think they're dangerous?"

"No, I guess not, but why would I say that?"

"Well, maybe we'll find out in a few days." I stuffed the remains of my meal in the bag and then started the engine.

### * * *

It was almost dusk when we turned up the driveway to the mansion. The road through the orchard led directly into the setting sun, blinding me. Eventually, the driveway turned away from the sun toward the main house. I stopped the car and jumped out. "Come on Cathy, you have to see this." I led her around through the charred remains of the west gardens to the river's edge.

"Oh, my!" She gasped. "No wonder they call this God's country. That's the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen.

"I know." I was quickly overcome by the memory of the last time I stood here watching the sunset. Elizabeth and Benjamin were with Jason and me. In fact, it was Elizabeth who had suggested we meet here. And Jason, my beautiful soul mate, the wonder in his eyes was magnificent, and after my parents left, that kiss, so romantic. "Jason," I whispered.

"I think he's watching too," Cathy said. "Not here maybe, but wherever he is, I think he's watching the same beautiful sunset—longing for you," she added.

A warm, smile spread across my face. It was the first time in a longtime that I felt hope. We stayed until the last hint of crimson faded to pastel shades of lavender.

"It's dark!" Cathy startled me out of my remembrance.

"That's okay," I said, even, though I knew that's not what she was worried about. "I know my way back to the house." I led Cathy back through the maze of scorched plants until we could see the front of the house. I pulled up short. "Do you remember the front light being on?"

"No, but maybe it's on a timer or sensor thing—you know, for security."

We edged up to the Rover quietly. The porch light—well chandelier—was on, but the rest of the house was dark. "Odd," I said, "I thought the staff was still here when we arrived."

"I guess when they were done for the day, they closed up."

"Hollingsworth would have seen the Rover, though, right?"

"I guess, unless there's another exit."

"There's the tunnel—no, that's not a human exit." I took a step toward the front door.

"Oh!" It took Cathy a minute to catch on. "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see if the door is unlocked."

"Why?"

"I thought we'd stay here tonight."

"What? You are crazy."

"Come on, you said it yourself, we're not in any danger. We're perfectly safe."

"I did not say that."

"You said if we stayed, there was hope."

"I said if we stayed, there were vampires and they were hope. That's completely different."

I walked up the steps and tugged on the doorknob. "Locked."

"That's good, right? We can just comeback tomorrow," Cathy pleaded.

I bounced back down the steps and then reached into the Rover for the packet Hollingsworth had given me. I slid my hand inside the envelope. "Perfect." I pulled out a shinny, brass key.

"Peachy," Cathy pouted.

"Fuzzy," I teased.

"Not funny. Not funny at all."

We went around to the back of the Rover, grabbed our stuff, and then headed for the front door. I pointed the key fob behind me and hit the power lock button. Cathy let out a shriek when the horn beeped.

"Edgy, much?" I unlocked the front door and we stepped into the dark, quiet mansion—well I stepped into the dark, quiet mansion. "Come on, we'll be fine." I felt along the wall until I found the light switch. "There," I said flicking two of them on. "Is that better?"

Cathy cautiously entered the house.

"The bedrooms are upstairs. I know, let's check out the kitchen? I'm starving."

"We just ate," Cathy replied.

I shrugged. "Suit yourself." I headed down the hallway toward the kitchen with Cathy right on my heels.

### * * *

Cathy was afraid to sleep alone, so we shared the master. Even so, I don't think she got much sleep until the sun shown through the lace curtains and softly lit the bedroom walls. I eased out from under the covers, being careful not to wake her, and then walked over to the window.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky. A light fog framed the imperfect, old window that was cool to the touch. The heavy damp air clung to the field grass as it slowly melted in the sunshine. I lingered, watching the shadows retreat toward the tree line. Was I wrong? Was it a mistake to stay? Maybe, but something, something I couldn't explain, said stay. In truth, it was no more likely Jason would show up here any more so than Boonsboro. The sun was higher now, its rays warm on my skin, soothing. I rested my palm on the cool glass.

Suddenly, there was a noise downstairs. Cathy stirred as I quickly got dressed. Hollingsworth must be back.

"Did I hear—"

"Shh, shh, go back to sleep, it was nothing."

"Okay," Cathy mumbled in a daze, pulling the comforter over her head.

As I stepped into my jeans, a motion outside caught my attention. I almost fell as I stumbled to the window, trying at the same time, to pull up my pants. The hip deep grass parted as if someone had run across the field, but fast, beyond human perception. I didn't see anyone, or anything that could account for it. Whoever, or whatever it was, was gone. Could that have been the noise downstairs? If so, it was no vampire. Vampires didn't bump into things or knock things over. I needed to investigate.

I wasn't surprised to find the house empty, but nothing seemed to be out of place either. I knew it wasn't my imagination, Cathy heard it too. According to my cell phone, it was nine o'clock in the morning. The kitchen was a surprise, the pantry was nearly empty and the few items that were there, were well beyond their sell by date. It must have been blind luck we stumbled across the cookies last night. My stomach rolled in an odd sensation that I'd never experienced.

"Was that?" I pressed my hand against my abdomen. My stomach growled. "I'm hungry, that's all." I wished I would have thought to bring some of the material that Doctor Wilkinson had given me in from the car. I couldn't leave Cathy alone in the house—if she came downstairs and I wasn't here—well that couldn't happen. So, there was nothing to do but wait.

I went by the closed office again, just to be certain I hadn't missed something, and then ventured into the parlor. I pushed back the heavy drapes and then found a comfortable place in the corner of the sofa. It seemed, after all the effort, I'd merely changed the scenery and the window. A tear found its way down my cheek, then another, and another. I missed Jason so much.

It was almost noon when Cathy came crashing down the stairs jarring me out of mourning.

"There you are," she said. "Where is everybody?"

"Nobody's here."

"You mean like they had a day off or something?"

I sat up straighter. "No, I don't think—"

"You've been crying," Cathy stated the obvious.

"It's not what you think."

She crossed her arms in a huff. "Right." She looked out the window and no doubt thought the same thing I had. "Tell me the truth, Hollingsworth and all the others were vampires, right?"

"I don't know—I certainly didn't at the time, but, well, I can't say for certain."

"Okay, so fine, not at the time, but what about now? Come to think of it, Hollingsworth never touched us."

"Don't you remember he escorted us into the house. We most certainly touched."

"—but never skin to skin. He must have been," she concluded. "Probably all the others too."

"I guess, now that you mention it. I really didn't notice at the time, I was so wrapped up—"

"I know. We need to get our vampire radar working better. What if they'd been regular—"

"You might have _vampire radar_ ," I interrupted, "but I certainly don't."

"Really? I figured since you'd been one—well I just assumed—I'm starving, is there anything to eat?"

"Nothing. No, wait, there were two bottles of blood in the fridge."

Cathy reeled back in shock until I burst out laughing. "That's not funny."

"Yes, it is."

"So really, nothing to eat?"

"Afraid not."

"Great." She flopped down on the sofa next to me. "We're not headed west are we?"

"Just the grocery store," I said.

"I figured." She got back up. "Well come on, we have to get you something to eat, pronto." She dangled the car keys in front of me. "Our purses are at the foot of the stairs."

### * * *

It had been two weeks since we first arrived at the mansion and still no sign of, well, anything or anyone. There was the path in the grass, but I even doubted that now—maybe the wind. We both called home every other day or so and I'm pretty sure Cathy had talked to Nancy at least once, because she and Coach had started talking about 'the next step' in the plan. For me, though, the plan was done, finished. Deep down, I knew I was where I was supposed to be, for what I wasn't completely sure, hopefully, it was for Jason. Cathy new it too although she tried several times to trick me into leaving with so called _visions_ of Jason or some imaginary danger lurking in the woods. To her credit, I think she was worried that it didn't look like I was gaining any weight. I might have even lost a few pounds, and I'm sure it was pretty obvious that I was beginning to sink into that pit of hopelessness again. It had been a dreary, damp, drizzly day, and unusually cool for the time of year. After supper, we sat in the two chairs opposite the gas fireplace for warmth. Cathy was reading and I was reminiscing about Jason—trying to focus on the good things.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door. It startled both of us. We'd not seen another person except when we went to the little market for groceries. We exchanged a glance, but neither of us moved. The knock came again.

"Hello?" A male voice probed.

We both rose cautiously.

"Cathy? Are you there?"

"It's Alex!" She raced to the door and opened it before I could voice caution. Fortunately, it really was Alex. "Oh my God!" She kissed him and wrapped her arms around him like he was rescuing her from the Titanic.

Alex peered over her shoulder. "Hey, Izzy."

"Do you have a bag?" Cathy asked.

"Yeah, if it's okay with—"

"Well come on." Cathy pulled him back out onto the porch and then down the steps toward his car.

This probably wasn't a good sign. I could hear them talking in almost a whisper. I got up and moved closer to the window where I could hear them better.

"How's she doin'?" Alex asked.

"Not good. The trip started out fine, just like we planned, but when we got here, I lost her. I can't get her to budge."

"Any sign of Jason?"

"Nope, not a glimpse." She lowered her voice. "But there were vam—" she stopped. "A van, there was a van, kind of bus that brought a tour-group through last week."

Nice cover. What did she mean by 'we planned'? It didn't seem like she meant the two of us. Was this all just another, more elaborate attempt, to get me to move on?

"Izzy?" Alex's voice came from the doorway.

I dashed toward the fireplace as Cathy and Alex walked into the room.

"You were listening," Cathy accused.

"What did you mean by, 'like we planned'?" I bounced back up off the sofa to my feet.

Cathy's face turned crimson.

"You liar! I can't believe you'd do that to me, not after all—I can't believe it! We're done." I held back the tears and raced up the stairs to the bedroom only to be confronted with Cathy's stuff all over the place. I started picking things up and throwing them out into the hallway. "We are so done!" I yelled as I heaved her suitcase out into the hallway and then slammed the door.

### Chapter 13

It had been two days since Alex's arrival. I stayed in my room most of the time. On the rare occasion when we accidently bumped into one another, no one made any effort to speak. I felt sorry for Alex being caught in the middle like he was, it had to be awkward. There were several times I thought I could hear them arguing. That bothered me—sure, I was mad at Cathy, but I didn't want to do any harm to their relationship. In many ways, she needed him almost as much as I needed Jason.

The following morning, Alex's car started and then drove away. Since they were gone, I decided to venture down to the kitchen for something to eat.

"Alex!" I gasped as I opened my bedroom door. "I didn't expect—"

"Ugh, sorry, I was about to knock, I didn't mean to scare you."

I wrapped my PJs around me tighter. He just stood there, seemingly not knowing what to do. His gaze discreetly washed over me. That brought a slight smile to his lips that quickly vanished. There was one of Cathy's séances that had inadvertently revealed he once had a kind of crush on me.

"Um, why don't I get dressed and meet you downstairs," I said, "I haven't eaten this morning."

"Sure, sure, that'd be fine." He grasped the door handle and pulled the door closed. He lingered for a few moments before heading off down the hallway.

"Awkward," I whispered. For him to look at me like that, maybe I'd done more damage than I thought. I skipped a shower; put on my baggy, black sweats; pulled my hair back in a loose, not so attractive, tumbleweed of a ponytail, and headed downstairs.

He didn't react when I entered the kitchen, which was hopefully a good sign. I opened the fridge and scanned down the barren shelves and compartments for something to eat. "Looks like it's going to be a banana." I closed the door, pivoted so that I was facing Alex at the table and then leaned back against the door. The banana was still green so I had to bite the tip to get it to peel. I took a bite, then another and glanced over at Alex. His mouth was hanging open and he was staring at me. "Oh, gross!" I choked.

Alex pushed back from the table, his face two shades of red. "You're sick—I wasn't—" he bolted toward the hallway.

"Stop Alex," I called after him. "Don't go."

He paused at the edge of the hallway.

"Ugh, um," I stuttered. "I guess I've messed things up pretty bad between you two, huh?"

He didn't move, but said, "Nah, every couple has disagreements."

I realized we probably didn't have much time if Cathy was just going to the store. "Can we talk? Please."

He silently nodded and never looking up, walked back to the table. He flopped down on one of the chairs. "I'm sorry," he said to the top of the table. "I didn't—"

"It's okay, I overreacted. How's school?" I changed the subject.

"Good." He paused for a long time. "I miss Cathy—hate it that she couldn't get into Frostburg."

"I thought her mom and Ms. Moore were going to write recommendation letters."

"She just didn't have the GPA, with all she went through and all."

"That's a shame, she's smart and extremely talented."

"For sure, but things are what they are." He finally ventured a glance up from the table. "How about you? How you holdin' up?"

"'Things are what they are', but I'm hangin' in there."

He half smiled. "Why'd he quit? I mean after that pass, he was probably looking at the pros—junior year. Maybe even first round."

I left the banana on the counter and sat down across from him. "I don't know. We talked about football from time-to-time, there were times he said he wanted to quit—it just wasn't his focus anymore since—well I guess, even before we got married, but I don't really know what suddenly changed."

Alex smiled again.

"Yeah, it's the same with me. I just want to be with Cathy."

That one hurt, the implication—intended or not —that Jason didn't want to be with me. Could he be right? Was I just clinging to flimsy excuses—hope? "Does Cathy know that?" I asked.

"Sure, sure she does."

"Really? When was the last time you told her?"

Alex leaned back in his chair, made a motion with his finger like a gun and said, "Gotcha." He leaned forward placing his elbows on the table. "Why are you still here?"

"I'm supposed to be here. I know it sounds lame, but I know this is where I'm supposed to be—to wait."

"For what, Jason?"

"I hope so, but I honestly don't know. I thought Cathy—"

"She was—is, it's just well, it's just they—" Alex fumbled.

We both glanced toward the main hallway as a car pulled up out front.

"Alex," I started, "Coach told Jason this once, I think you should hear it." I cleared my voice. "Coach said, 'sometimes you just gotta go with your gut, go after what's important, what makes you happy.'"

Alex smiled again. "Sounds like Coach."

"And it's true. He told that to Jason just before he came looking for me."

Alex nodded. "Yep, I remember, just disappeared, then everyone thought you were pregnant, remember?"

My cheeks flushed.

"Why'd Jason leave you, Izzy?"

"This looks cozy," Cathy said from the entrance to the kitchen.

I looked up at her, standing there with her arms full of groceries. "You didn't tell him I'm—" I accused.

"No! Of course not," she shot back.

"I'm sorry. I know you wouldn't. I'm sorry."

"Me too," Cathy said, setting the bags on the counter. "I'm so sorry." She sat down in the chair next to Alex.

"Me too," Alex said and then leaned over and kissed Cathy on the cheek.

She turned his face toward hers and they locked lips.

"Ah, hello? Get a room."

Cathy pushed Alex back.

"I should let you two talk," Alex offered.

"No, Cathy said, glancing at me, "stay here."

"Sure," I agreed. "It's fine."

Cathy looked at me with a sad, sympathetic expression and sighed. She glanced over at Alex who kind of nodded like she should go ahead. I didn't like the looks of this.

"I don't know what to say. Everything was so clear, so focused—"

"And now?" I asked.

She shook her head but didn't speak.

Alex shuffled his feet uncomfortably. I got the distinct impression he knew whatever it was Cathy wasn't saying.

"Alex?" I crooned.

"She was just tryin' to help. Coach said—"

"Alex!" Cathy snapped.

"So this has all just been a rouse?" I clenched my fists in anger.

"No," Cathy defended, "you have to admit the trips helped."

"Okay, I'll give you that. The visions?"

"Oh, you remember when we did that séance thing back in high school?" Alex interrupted. "That was so weird. Oh, I know, that's when I told Izzy—" His cheeks turned splotchy, red and he suddenly pushed back from the table. "Ah, excuse me." He made a fast exodus leaving Cathy and me alone.

Cathy half smiled. "I think he's always had a thing for you—even now."

"But he's in love with you."

She shrugged. "I guess."

"Are you serious? He's crazy about you—" Whoops, there's that word again. "Sorry."

Cathy shook her head. "Maybe."

Alex's footsteps trailed off up the stairs.

"Izzy, I really am sorry, I was just trying to help. Like I said, the trips were my idea, but the rest—really, I was just trying to help."

"I know—not about the tricking me part, but I know you meant well," I paused. "You said your visions were clear, focused, what happened to change that?"

"We came here. I have no idea why, but it's like they just vanished as soon as I walked through the front doorway."

"Do you think it's possible that whatever I'm waiting for, you're not supposed to know or see?"

She looked up with such a strange, almost terrified expression. "I suppose it's possible."

"Honest?" I probed.

"Do I have to?"

"Please."

"Okay." She grimaced.

"This was all orchestrated by Nancy and Coach, right?"

She nodded slightly. "They were worried sick about you locked up in that old house, and being pregnant, that just made it worse. They thought if you made some kind of effort, you'd be satisfied and come home. That's why we had the plan—if we'd just stuck to the plan. They don't know things about you that I do. It's part of why I had to come, and then there were the visions—they were real, so real. Please don't be angry. They hurt for you, we all do." She started to cry.

I tried to control my anger choosing to wait before I spoke. Then it occurred to me, this wasn't a waste, not at all. Whatever their motivation, their actions had led me here. Here, where I was supposed to be. I wasn't part of the world beyond human awareness any longer, but it was there, and things happened for a reason, even if I couldn't humanly see or understand them.

"You're going to stay, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes, oh yes. It's like I've been telling you all along, 'I'm supposed to be here.'"

"You're human now—mortal," she whispered "What about the vampires?"

"Like you said, 'vampires, safe, hope'."

She started to correct me again but stopped. I think she realized there was no changing my mind.

"When do you have to go back?" I asked.

"I don't know for sure—"

"Tomorrow would be best," Alex said from the entrance to the kitchen. "I have some paperwork that needs to be done to complete my transfer."

"Transfer?" Cathy puzzled.

"Yeah, I'm going to transfer to your school. I talked to Mom and Dad while I was upstairs, and it's cool, save them a boatload of money to boot."

"But, what about football?"

"I love you, Cathy, really, truly love you. When we get back, if you'll have me, I want you to come with me to pick out a ring."

"A ring?" She was crying again, but these were happy tears.

"Sure, we'll be officially engaged—well, assuming you say yes."

"Yes! Of course yes, I love you."

I got up and started toward the hallway. "I'll leave you two to talk." I made little quotation marks in the air. "Cathy, you don't want to miss the sunset this evening. And, if you remember, there was a nice little restaurant at Kelly's B&B."

"Only if you'll come with us," Cathy said, looking up at Alex.

"Absolutely," Alex agreed.

"Sounds like a date." I cringed and we all laughed.

### * * *

I stayed at the house while Cathy and Alex enjoyed the sunset. It was spectacular, even from my window. Things were about to change. I would be alone, vulnerable if you looked at it like Cathy, but also approachable. I'd been stuck in the same pattern for weeks—months, change had to be good, at least it meant I was moving.

Their engagement party was fun, even if it was just the three of us. The food was much better than we expected. Cathy had Salmon and Alex and I had steak. There were a few moments when I drifted away from the conversation. I'd noticed a trickle of blood from my steak and remembered what it used to mean to me—did it mean the same to Jason now, or was it human blood he craved—my blood?

We reminisced about times back in school but were careful to avoid the bad things that had happened, and there were plenty of those. They even made out in the back of the Rover on the ride home. They weren't very discrete that night either, but who could blame them, they were happy and in love. Their lives were about to change too.

We were all up early the next morning. Cathy wouldn't let me help load Alex's little car—it was no Rover. Somehow, Cathy seemed to have acquired a lot more stuff since we'd been here. Alex was going to have to get used to all the accessories.

"I feel so bad leaving you out here all alone," Cathy said as Alex tried to squeeze in the last bag.

"Really," Alex added. "You sure it's safe?"

"There's a staff here, I won't be alone. They've just been off for a few days so we could enjoy the house. I think they're due back tonight." I winked at Cathy, but she didn't look very happy about the ploy. "I'll be fine. You two better get going if you're going to beat the Roanoke traffic."

Alex looked down at his watch. "Yeah, guess you're right. You sure about this?"

"Go, go." I made a shooing motion with my hands.

"Okay then," Alex said. "If you change your mind, just give Cathy a call. We'd be more than happy to come back and get you—anytime," he added.

"Thanks, but not necessary, I've got the Rover."

Cathy wrapped her arms around me and whispered. "You're starting to show."

"No!" I gasped.

"What's that?" Alex said from the driver's seat.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Cathy covered.

Alex's face turned beat red. He must have thought she said something about their night.

"See you guys."

Cathy ran around and climbed in next to Alex.

"Nine-one-one if you need help," Alex said. "9-1-1."

"Yes, sir." I saluted. "Got it."

And with that, Alex started the car and they drove away. I lingered in the driveway until the dust settled. The sun was hot again today. It was going to be another sweltering Georgia day, a new day and maybe a new beginning.

### Chapter 14

If I'm being completely honest, I was a little nervous when I showered, being alone and all, but once I dried off and got dressed, I relaxed. I spent most of the morning reading in the little nook in front of the open window with the cool, southern breeze off the water. I wanted to make sure that I was visible in case anyone came by—well not just anyone. I ate lunch. Cathy had really stocked up before they left so I was good for at least two weeks, although, I hoped that whatever I was waiting for would happen long before that.

In the afternoon, I got really tired and fell asleep. It was dusk when I awoke, the day fading away with no change. I slipped back into my dark place, the emptiness and sadness overwhelming. Tears came again, lots of them. I thought I was past crying, but apparently the hope I felt was delicate—superficial—maybe I was projecting like Cathy said. The sky turned a deep crimson igniting the walls in the same hue. I thought back to the night of the fire—the attack by the biker gang—the night Jason got shot because of me. Perhaps, I was here to remember these things so that I would realize he was better off without me. I cried harder. It was dark by the time I exhausted all the tears. I turned on one dim light, ate something for the baby, and curled up on the sofa in the parlor. I could feel the baby move now—I was certain, not like the first time, but I wondered if somehow the baby knew when I was grieving. It always seemed like it was still in those times. I prayed my sadness wouldn't hurt the baby. The next six days passed the same way.

What I had hoped would be some kind of change—some movement, in one direction or another, had not happened. Cathy, Nancy, Coach, were right, it was the same miserable me, just in a different place. Finally, I had enough. I wasn't sure what day it was—hopefully not Sunday, I think they were closed on Sundays—but I got in the Rover and headed for the biker bar. I needed a distraction—a drink. Air conditioning wouldn't be bad either.

When I pulled up out front, the memory of when Jason and I first found this place raced through my thoughts, but I forced it out of my mind and went inside. The blast of cold air was invigorating. It was quiet, too quiet for it to be the distraction I'd hoped for. I sat at the bar and ordered a soda.

"Hey," the bartender said, "you look familiar. You been in here before, right?"

Marge, the waitress came out of the back. "Well bless my soul." She slapped the bartender on the back. "Bart, ya ol' fool, that there is the little filly that showed them boys a thing or two 'bout shootin' pool." She turned toward me and smiled, an almost toothless, but sincere smile. "Where's that cute fella that was with ya?"

"Just me," I said, not wanting to think about Jason tonight.

"Shame, was a real looker that one." She walked around the corner and headed toward the back of the bar, but stopped and turned back. "Feel like demonstrain' your skills?" She nodded toward the pool tables.

"Not tonight, thanks."

"Suit yourself." She continued on toward the pool tables. "We talkin' another round back here?"

"You alone?" Bart asked.

"Tough one," I said. It would probably be a bad thing to tell him I was alone for obvious reasons, so instead, I just held up my left hand.

"Married!" He choked. "Didn't see that comin'. Don't really answer the question, though."

Great, I was probably going to have to leave. Just my luck. "Husband's sick, just needed some fresh air," I tried.

He laughed. "Definitely come to the right place for that." He took a long drag from his cigarette, tapped his cheek and blew smoke rings into the smoky room.

I couldn't drink—probably wouldn't have served a minor anyway—and the smoke definitely wasn't what the baby needed. I finished my soda in two gulps. "What do I owe you?"

"On the house." He nodded.

"Thanks." I got up and made a hasty retreat as a couple of guys from the pool tables were headed my way. I wasted no time getting in the Rover and then headed back to the mansion.

There was a light drizzle by the time I turned up the driveway and the sky up ahead had a strange glow. I was shocked to see the house lit up as I emerged from the orchard. I trounced on the gas. After skidding to a stop out front, I got out, slammed the door and raced up the front stairs. The door was unlocked, so I went straight in. "Hollingsworth?" I called. It looked like every light in the house was on. No answer, so I headed toward the office. "Hollingsworth?"

Nobody. Somebody had to be here, or at least had been here. "Hello, is anybody there?"

I passed the empty sunroom, the kitchen and then headed for the parlor. Who would do such a thing? I flopped down on the sofa.

"It's so good to see you," came a faint voice from the corner, near the window by the front door.

I jumped up startled and turned. "Elizabeth?"

She moved forward a few steps, into the light.

"Elizabeth! I—I—I"

"You are with child."

"Yes, isn't it amazing? Amazing and wonderful. You can hear—"

"A strong, healthy heartbeat."

I pressed my hands against my abdomen. "Really?"

"Yes, of course." Her expression became serious when I took a step toward her. "Let's not rush things."

"Right, I'm sorry, I forgot. I guess I'm one of those now."

She waved her hand to dismiss the topic.

"Are the others with you?" I asked.

"Not this time."

"This time?"

"We thought it best if I came alone."

"Kind of testing my scent," I joked.

Elizabeth frowned.

There was no point beating around the bush, I'd waited for what seemed like an eternity for something, someone to show up and with it being Elizabeth, there was only one thing I wanted. "Will you change me back?"

Elizabeth was really good at hiding her emotions. You might say, she had a poker face, but she was obviously shocked. She even sort of staggered back a step. "Why on earth—"

"The potion didn't exactly work, Jason changed—he's a vampire and I need—"

"I can assure you, Jason is not a vampire."

"How? How do you know that?" I studied her expression carefully. "You've seen him. Where is he?"

"All in good time, all in good time."

"Now. Now is a good time. I messed up." I started to cry. "I messed everything up and I have to tell him—he has to understand that I love him—I can't exist without him."

"It is not my place to speak for another, but I assure you, he knows. Indeed, he knows."

"What now?" I asked, sinking back onto the sofa.

Elizabeth moved cautiously closer. She was still unsure. She took another step.

"Am I as tempting as Jason?"

"Quite. It brings back old memories of your tragic change."

"I'm sorry."

"No need. There are things you need to be made aware of, danger that you and your baby may face. Perhaps it was unavoidable for you, but you must consider your child now."

"The baby is important, I can't argue that, but a child needs a father, I need the baby's father. Whatever the cost, I am willing to pay it."

She nodded and then started to turn.

"No, don't go. There's something else."

"Very well."

She turned back toward me, standing elegantly like a perfect figurine.

"Oh, how I've missed you, all of you, but especially you, Elizabeth—Mother. I would not change my choice, there was no other way, but I never intended to hurt you. Forgive me, please forgive me."

She nodded and blotted at her eyes with a handkerchief even though I knew she couldn't cry. She was showing me in actions how much she cared—that she understood.

"You'll see Jason?"

"Yes."

"You can't tell him about our baby. I know you wouldn't intentionally, but he can't know. If he wants me, I'm his, but it can't be because of the baby."

"How noble, but he will have to know at some point, the stakes are too high." Her head rose, chin up in a noble, but elegant position. "I will do as you ask."

"Risks? What risks? And what did you mean by 'dangers I may face'?"

In the blink of an eye, she was gone. "No!" I cried, to no avail. I collapsed onto the arm of the sofa stunned. Tears began to stream down my face.

### * * *

It was morning before I was coherent enough to think past the disappointment of seeing Elizabeth only to have her vanish so abruptly. The more I thought about it, the more I realized, she came alone for more than to just test her resolve. Like she said, she'd been around my blood before, lots of it. No, there was definitely something else going on. We'd faced dangers when I was with them and she always remained calm, composed—at least on the outside, but even as a human, this time I could sense she was afraid of something. It seemed like her discovery of my baby had heightened that fear, perhaps even upped the stakes.

The next night passed insanely slow. I think I counted every tick of the clock, but by morning, nothing had changed, I was still alone. Of course, there was the real possibility that she or one of my vampire family, had been here and I just didn't know it. Still, that didn't seem likely.

I was hot and exhausted by late morning and fell asleep on the sofa. When I awoke, it was dark again. 'Maybe tonight.' I thought. The long delay frazzled my nerves, to be sure, but I began to wonder if perhaps the rest of the Faulkners were a long distance away. Whatever danger she was referring to, she might have been afraid it would follow, putting me in danger. I got up and stomped to the door. I threw it opened and yelled. "I don't care! I don't care if it's dangerous! Do you hear me? I want—I need—" I slouched against the doorframe. "Jason," I mumbled.

### * * *

Two more uneventful days passed. I hadn't showered, hardly eaten. I was a sweaty mess and while I didn't care so much about me, our baby was another thing. It was early afternoon, after I ate breakfast and lunch, all at one-time mind you, I ventured upstairs to the bathroom.

The shower turned out to be just what I needed. The cool water cascading over my body felt heavenly. It seemed early, but I pressed my hands against the firm knot bulging from my abdomen. It wasn't news, Cathy said it before she left, but there was no question I was pregnant now.

I was standing under the showerhead, letting the water run through my hair, when I thought I heard a noise. I quickly turned off the water and then pulled back the shower curtain. "Hello?"

That was dumb—see any slasher movies lately? I didn't bother to dry off, just slipped on a robe and wrapped a towel around my wet hair.

"Hello?" I said venturing out into the empty hallway. I went partway down the steps and tried again. "Hello, is anybody there?" Still nothing. The sun was close to setting and it cast long shadows across the rooms. Truthfully, it was kind of eerie. I went back upstairs to get dressed.

I sat in front of the ornately framed mirror, unwound the towel and began the impossible task of brushing my hair. I glanced into the mirror, and gawked at my reflection. I had lost a lot of weight. My cheekbones were prominent, my cheeks sunken, and my jaw line noticeably sharper. I would have to do a better job of taking care of myself. Doctor Wilkinson would not be happy with me. The brush, tugging at my hair, was gentle now and I kind of faded into a tranquil state with each successive stroke.

"You're beautiful."

"Oh, I miss you, Jason. Where are you?" I mumbled to the illusion.

"I'm right here."

I stopped and stared into the mirror. Behind me, Jason's reflection. "Jason?" I turned.

"Yes," he said, taking another step out from behind the curtains.

I was frozen, I didn't know what to say, what to do. The last thing I wanted to do was scare him away so I did the only thing I could think of. "I love you," I said and then tears started streaming down my cheeks.

"Please don't cry," he begged. "It hurts to see you cry."

I wiped my eyes with the towel. "Better?" I offered.

"No, I can never be better, not after what I did to you. If you knew—"

"Then tell me. Tell me what happened."

He walked slowly toward my bed and sat on the edge. In doing so, he crossed through a beam of sunlight. No sparkle.

"Elizabeth told me you're not a vampire," I said. "Are you changing?"

"No, but I thought I was. Our anniversary dinner, the one you worked so hard on, you remember?"

"Of course, why?"

"The steak was perfect, the best I've ever eaten, just on the rare side, a touch of blood. I devoured it, if you remember, and then that night after the game." His gaze sank to the floor for a moment. "I hurt you."

"You should have told me why. We could have figured something out."

"Don't you see, I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"From the very first day I discovered what you were, all you wanted was to be human. I knew, if I was changing, then you would want to change. I couldn't do that to you."

"It would have been better than leaving me. Besides, that's not what I wanted, I wanted you and I thought I couldn't have you when I was—like that."

"Maybe so, but you swore you'd never change me and that says the same thing."

"No, it doesn't." I snapped.

Jason held out his palms to me. "I didn't come back to argue."

"Why did you then? I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

He smiled, that beautiful Jason smile that melted my heart.

"Coach told me about the pass," I said, "and what the announcers said. Alex even said he thought you were pro material. What stopped you?"

"Me. It wasn't me. I don't know where that strength came from, but it wasn't me. And then, that night with you, I was so afraid—so ashamed. I couldn't control it, it just kept building up and building up. I had to get away. I couldn't risk hurting you again. I couldn't live with that."

"And now?" I twisted my hair apprehensively.

"And now, now I know what I always knew, that I can't live without you." He gripped the edge of the bed as I stood and took a step toward him.

"All this time?" I questioned.

"I know." He hung his head. "I knew the minute I left, but I had to protect you."

"You almost killed me. I meant what I said all those times. I can't live without you."

"Can you ever forgive me?"

"For trying to protect me, yes, but not for leaving."

"Where does that leave us?" His gaze sunk from me back to the floor.

"That depends," I said.

When he looked up, I was inches away from him. He glanced into my eyes.

"You promised that nothing in this world would ever keep us apart."

"I did," he confirmed.

"You said our love is eternal like our rings—Benjamin's and Elizabeth's rings."

"I did. I failed you on the first count, but not on the second. I never stopped loving you. As flawed as my reasoning might have been, I left because of how much I love you." He slipped down off the edge of the bed onto one knee. "Even though my intentions were admirable, I failed you—I so failed you—and you're absolutely right in saying I should have talked to you. We could always talk—about almost anything." He winked.

"That's not really fair—I mean I was trying to protect you from what I was."

"Exactly." He smiled, not an _I made my point_ smile, but more of a _do you understand now_ smile. He slowly reached up with his left hand, spun his wedding ring on his finger, and then slid his hand into mine until our rings were touching. "Two circles as one, for eternity." His gaze sank from mine and he added. "If that's what you want."

I waited—much longer than I should have—"Yes, of course, that's what I want." I tightened my grip and then quickly pulled him to his feet and kissed him, but I could feel his apprehension. "What?"

"Baby steps." He took my hand and kissed it, then my arm, and finally the crook of my neck.

I was on fire.

He eased back. "I also swear never to hurt you again."

"You didn't hurt me," I huffed. "Are you that worried? Is it that bad? What is it if you're not changing?"

"Exactly." He leaned back in and kissed me again, lingering longer this time.

I couldn't help myself and started to slip out of my robe.

"Stop," Jason said, breaking the kiss. "Stop trying to take off your clothes." He stepped back. "I'll wait for you downstairs. There's a lot to discuss." He walked briskly to the door, but stopped and turned around. "I'm sorry for what I did. I will never forgive myself. I love you, even more than life. You said it on our wedding day, 'forever'."

"I love you," I said as the door closed leaving me alone in the room.

### Chapter 15

Needless to say, I dressed quickly, terrified Jason might have a change of heart. Despite his reassurances, he was nervous, afraid, just like Elizabeth, and that was not like either of them. I chose jeans that I had to use a safety pin instead of the snap to hold up and a loose fitting top to hide my baby bump. I skipped the black eye makeup, but as I headed for the bedroom door, I reconsidered. When we first met, I was all about the whole EMO thing, so I went back and added black eye makeup—not too much, just enough to be noticeable, and maybe, if I was lucky, enticing.

"Jason!" I called as I stumbled down the steps.

"In hear," he replied, from the parlor.

My heart did a major flip as I stepped through the entranceway. Jason was standing at the window where I'd spent all those hours reading. His shirt was unbuttoned and the coarse, but thin, linen fabric fluttered in the gentle breeze silhouetting his torso. Worn jeans clung to his narrow hips making a little dip at the base of his abdomen.

"Oh, my," I mumbled. I could have just stood there and stared—or jumped his bones, but he turned as I entered.

"Wow," he said in a low voice, "incredible, absolutely incredible. How is it that every time I see you, you're more beautiful than the time before?"

"You're lucky you turned around when you did—or maybe not." I winked.

He frowned. "Then I wish I hadn't, but at the same time, glad I did."

"Glad?"

"No," he reconsidered, "not glad. It's just we have to be patient until I know I can control myself."

I laughed.

"It's not funny." He pouted.

"Ironic, though. Your thoughts, your actions are like mine when we first met. I was torn apart not knowing whether to love you or devour you. Your blood— It was so, so—irresistible."

"It's not like that," he said stepping away from the window and walking over to the sofa. "You look exhausted, sit with me."

"Is it okay if I sit next to you—or maybe on your lap?"

"Next to me will have to do." He thought for a moment before continuing. "I want you, love you so much—"

"That part's the same." I snuck a kiss on his bristled cheek.

"Sure, but I have to protect you—even from me."

"The first part's good, but protect me from you? I can't see it."

"I know, but there's something—something I don't understand that can just consume me. I know what I'm doing, at least I think I do, but, I don't know—it just takes over."

"Is that what happened at the game?" I asked not wanting to broach the subject of our last night together.

He twisted his body around to face me. "It was the first time—"

"No," I interrupted, "it wasn't the first time. Blake told me about your workouts. He said you were like possessed, and he also said he could almost see you getting stronger with each rep."

He hung his head. "So many lies—too many lies."

"The nights you stayed out."

He nodded. "All anyone could talk about was the new guy—I was old news—not a chance in hell I'd play, and well, we'd just talked about this being my big chance and focusing on football. I was going to fail you—fail me—it was eating me up." He looked up and shook his head. "I couldn't do that—not you, but—"

I patted his hand. "You were protecting me. So what happened at the game?"

"You didn't see it?"

"Coach explained it as a 'humanly impossible' pass. 'On a rope' I think he said. He even compared it to when I ran to catch your pass in high school."

"Really."

"Yep—"

"So that's why you thought I was changing."

I nodded. "I knew it had to be something like that, why else—that's not true." I cringed.

"What?" His knitted brow showed such deep concern.

"When you left me, I thought it was me—I wasn't good enough for you."

"Oh, Izzy." He shook his head. "Never in a thousand years—never in a million years." He started to get up, but I grabbed his hand.

"I think I'm past that now," I offered.

"Think?"

"I wish I could say I was sure, but the truth is, I'm not sure why I deserve you."

"Deserve? Are you kiddin' me? You deserve eternity, but I took that from you. I would die for you, but instead, everyday you're dying for me. How is that even fair? It's not."

I stroked his cheek. "You can't die for me, because without you, I'm already dead."

He took my hand and kissed it. "Same for me." He risked a gentle, sweet kiss on my lips.

"So, I guess I don't understand. You got your chance when the new guy went down, and from what everyone in the stands said, you were absolutely incredible—some of the alumni were even talking ACC Championship, so why run? That's so not you, you don't run from anything."

He grasped both my hands. "The pass—the way I played out there—it wasn't me. Nobody saw because they were watching the ball, but I ripped the facemask right off my helmet. Fortunately, the outburst abated quickly and I was able to regain control, but how, how was I going to put myself out there where that could happen at any time? I couldn't—no way. I mean think about it, if the wrong crowd saw that, or something like it, it might expose your family's existence. If that wasn't bad enough, it could lead back to you." He abruptly stood, pulling his hands away. "That can never happen."

"Easy." I reached up, took his hand and pulled him back down onto the sofa. I let him catch his breath and waited until he calmed down before I continued. This seemed like the time, the time to get everything out in the open. "Jason, there's one more thing."

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Yes?"

"I left without saying goodbye." He turned, his sad eyes probing mine. "But I couldn't, it broke my heart."

This isn't where I was going, but had concluded, and it seemed important to him. "When you called, to meet at the cove?" I confirmed.

"I know it was selfish—to put you in danger like that, but I couldn't just walk away and then—when I was standing there in front of you—I couldn't—I couldn't do it—I mean how?"

"But you did."

His gaze sank to our hands and he nodded.

"It means a lot you tried," I offered. I'd already forgiven him everything. "There's one more thing."

"Don't." He shook his head, and his shoulders visibly drooped. "No," he said, sitting up, squaring himself to me, "I deserve this—it's my responsibility—my fault." His face showed such uncertainty when I hesitated.

"You're right, it's your responsibility, but fault? I don't think so." I shouldn't have, but I let that linger for a moment.

His eyes searched mine for some clue. I swear it almost looked like he thought I wasn't going to forgive him.

"Jason." I lifted his hands to my lips and kissed one and then the other. As if somehow it knew what I was about to do, the baby started moving as I lowered Jason's hands toward my abdomen. "Jason."

"Yes?"

"I'm pregnant. You're going to be a father!"

"What?" He bolted up from the sofa. "That night? You think it was that night?"

This was not the reaction I expected. "Yes, I'm pretty sure."

"What if it's a monster like me?" He cringed.

"Sit down. The baby's fine. Doctor Diaz—"

"You saw Doctor Diaz?" He eased down next to me.

I scooted closer and rested my hand on his chest. His heart was pounding a mile a minute. "Take a breath—easy, easy." The pounding started to subside. "That's it." I gently grasped his hands again. His gaze locked on mine when we made eye contact. Slowly, I moved his hands to my abdomen and right on cue, the baby moved. Jason's face lit up.

"It's true, but we thought—"

"Obviously we were wrong."

His warm endearing smile began to fade. I could sympathize, I knew what it was like to be a danger to the ones you loved.

"Everything is going to be okay, Jason. You don't have to worry."

He looked down as the baby moved again. "How did you come to see Doctor Diaz?"

"It's a long story, but Cathy tricked me into going to the Frederick Hospital. Did you know they named our room in the ICU after us?"

"No, I had no idea. What did she say?"

"Well, I'd been having trouble keeping food down, so she did a blood test—"

"You sure that was okay? I mean—"

"Yes, it was fine and before I agreed, she promised not to divulge anything about the test. As a matter of fact, she gave me back the vile of blood. Turns out, though, I'm completely human—O positive and, well, that's when I found out I was pregnant."

He eased back, taking me in. "You are awfully thin, you sure the baby isn't doing something to you?"

I laughed. "No, the baby is not drinking my blood if that's what you're implying. Elizabeth even said the baby had a strong, healthy heartbeat."

"Elizabeth knows?"

"I made her swear not to tell you. You were with them, right?"

"Off and on at first."

"Ah, you're still human enough—" I stopped as his eyes tightened. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"No, you're right, I'm not exactly human anymore."

"Maybe Doctor Diaz—"

"No. It's not worth the risk."

"Maybe you're right. The potion?"

"Somehow it has to account for it, but not even Benjamin can explain it."

"But?" I prompted.

"Together we can figure it out."

"Yes." I slipped my arms around his neck. Despite his apprehension, I kissed him. "Exactly."

He gently, carefully wrapped his arms around me and returned the kiss. Then again and again until we were both lost in the tenderness that defined our love for one another. I released him and then placed my hands on his torso and gently slid them along his ribs until I could stroke his back.

After a moment, he slid his arms up my back, but as he did, I could feel his muscles tense. He pulled me closer and my heart pounded in rhythm against his.

"I love you." I moaned.

Slowly, carefully he eased me back. "I love you," he said and then cupped my face in his hands with a gentle kiss. He kissed my lips once more, and then sat back, putting some distance between us.

"That bad?" I questioned.

"I just want to be careful, you understand."

"I do. Whatever it takes, Jason. I'm here for you. Whatever it takes."

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about my travels, and his. Although he thought he was changing at first, with all the superhuman benefits, his human side slowed him down considerably, especially after he abandoned the Rover. I sensed he was skipping a lot, concentrating on details instead of the emotions involved, but I did the same thing when I told him I had dropped out and returned home to the Faulkner house in Boonsboro. It really peaked his interest when I told him how I was drawn here, to the mansion, and no matter what anyone said, no matter the dangers, I knew I was supposed to be here.

"You hungry?" he asked.

My stomach rolled. "Yes. Cathy stocked up, why don't we go see what I can cook up for supper."

"Sounds tempting, but I was thinking more of a celebration. You sound like you've been here for awhile, anything good nearby?"

"How about a juicy burger and fries at the biker bar?"

"You kidding? That place gave me the creeps."

"I went there you know, by myself."

"You can't do things like that, put yourself in danger."

"I was angry, frustrated, bored—all of the above, but I didn't stay. Oh, I know, the bed and breakfast has a nice quiet little restaurant."

"The one where that biker girl puked all over the place?"

"Nice." I frowned. "Seriously, though, it's a nice place. How does a steak sound?"

"Fantastic!" His brow arched upwards. "You know about this place, how?"

"I went with Cathy and Alex before they left. It was kind of a celebration."

"How are they?"

"Engaged."

"About time."

"I know, right." We stood. "I should change," I said.

"I don't know; you look pretty perfect to me." He patted his pockets. "Afraid I can't, just these."

"You're beautiful, rugged and impossible to resist. You should probably button your shirt, though, no need to make it any harder on the poor waitress than necessary."

"Right." He laughed.

"Is that one of Tink's shirts?"

"Yeah, I borrowed it."

"It suits you. Be right back." I ran upstairs. I quickly dug through my backpack of mostly dirty clothes looking for the one item I brought especially for this, well other than his favorite silk nightgown. "Bingo!" I pulled out my old band shirt. A little touch-up on the makeup and I was ready.

"What's taking so long?" Jason called up the stairs. "You were already perfect—oh." His face lit up with an infectious smile.

I posed at the top of the steps. "Remember?"

"Oh yeah, I remember, that was the first time I talked to you in school. Something about seeing them in L.A.."

"A new beginning." I glided down the stairs into his opened arms.

"Amazing, absolutely amazing." He kissed me. "Mind if I drive?"

"Miss the Rover?"

"Yeah, she's special, I'm glad nothing happened to her and she found her way back home." He set me down and then held out his arm.

I gladly wove my arm around his and we strolled out to the Rover. He held the door for me, and then ran around the front and hopped in behind the wheel.

"Hello, old girl," he said, gripping the wheel. With that, we were on our way.

"You know," I said, "Cathy and Alex made out in the back seat."

"Seriously?"

"I was driving, I should know."

"No."

"And as far as nothing bad happening to the 'old girl', and you better have meant the Rover, Coach said he had to have the interior extensively detailed because, as he put it, 'the kids did God knows what in there'."

"That's kind of gross." He glanced over at me. "Well, I'm glad she's all fixed up, and I owe him."

It wasn't long before we arrived at the restaurant. I think the host was surprised to see me again, maybe even kind of gave me that look like I might have been a working girl. I made sure he saw my ring as he handed me a menu.

The meal was wonderful. Jason seemed to enjoy his steak, his extremely rare steak. I tried to think back if he always had steak rare, but I wasn't sure. Was he just covering, to make me feel safe, or could he not realize he was changing? Incredible strength, bloody meat, it wasn't too difficult to make a connection. There were only two other couples at the restaurant, and we were kind of tucked away in a quiet corner.

"What did Benjamin have to say about your condition?" I whispered.

Jason leaned forward. "I was a fool for hurting you."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Seriously, what did he think?"

"He said his expertise is in battle, and although he had learned many things throughout the centuries, chemistry was not among them. There was no more of the elixir they gave you—did you realize, that when they gave it to you, they were afraid it would kill you and in turn me?"

"No. I knew they didn't know much about it—it was a long shot at best, but I didn't know they thought it would kill us."

"Melanie told me that, not Benjamin. She said they were so desperate to save you, they would have tried anything, and well, they did."

"But what about you?" I repeated, realizing he had discreetly changed the subject.

"No idea. He has some of the historian's papers and notes—more like gibberish, but he couldn't tell exactly what was in it, or what it was intended to do. At the time, they thought it was an attempt to make a vampire mortal. That's why they tried it."

"At the time?"

"He never said, but I don't think they really believe that's what it was intended to do any longer."

"Then what?" I asked.

"We didn't get that far."

"Why not?"

"Something came up." He eased back as if preparing for an outburst.

"Something came up? Are you serious?" I fumed.

Jason shrugged but said nothing. I could tell he was considering, taking stock.

"If this is about the danger, I don't care. You promised, together." I mimicked his old hand gesture between us. "All in, remember?"

"I know, but you're pregnant now. As parents, can we willingly put our unborn child in danger?"

"If it means staying together, fighting to be one, then yes. If it has to be that way, absolutely."

"Together." He confirmed with a nod and then leaned in toward me.

"There is trouble, big trouble in the vampire world. Being human, or some facsimile of human, they wouldn't tell me much. Best I can tell, their diet choice doesn't sit well with the ruling class."

"It's not their diet as much as it is their coexistence with humans," I clarified. "The 'ruling class', as you put it, sees humans only as nourishment. Sure, throughout history there have been those that formed a bond with a human, but in the end, there can be only one and that was usually the vampire. This happened before. They came from their sanctuary in Italy with their collection of 'special' vampires, but the war was averted and for the first time in recorded history, they relented. In the vampire world, it was secretly viewed as a sign of weakness."

"Ah yes, the 'special vampires'."

"You know about them?"

"I don't," he said, snapping out of whatever he was thinking, "not exactly."

"What are you not telling me?" I got the distinct impression he was hiding something.

"My guess," Jason surmised, "things are about to come to a head again."

"Why? Why now?"

"I don't know."

"How can we help?" I asked.

"We're human, our even knowing about them is against the law, right?"

"Right, but what if they know about us?"

"How?"

"They keep a constant vigil, newspapers, crime statistics, probably the Internet these days. If one of them placed me back in Forks, then ten years later in Boonsboro, all the coverage at the hospital, then married to a human—it's possible."

"A long shot," Jason agreed, "but possible. Why wouldn't they just go after us? I mean we're mortal, done away with in the blink of an eye."

We both sat back, considering the possibilities.

"An excuse? A means of reasserting their ultimate power?" I suggested. "Only one way to know for sure."

"The Faulkners," Jason said.

"Exactly."

"Waiter," Jason called, catching the waitress's eye, "check please."

After he paid, we walked out to the Rover and then headed back to the mansion.

I hated the sleeping arrangements, but it was blissful to have Jason back in my bed, even if I couldn't see him over the pile of pillows between us. Even so, it took both of us awhile to fall asleep. There was trouble and if it was the rulers of the vampire world, our existence was in grave danger of extinction. I grasped my tight abdomen. Our baby may never take its first breath.

### Chapter 16

It had only been a few hours when I startled awake. I lay quietly, not wanting to rouse Jason. The autumn moon cast a deep blue beam of light across the chilly room. I looked toward Jason and the pile of pillows. Really? I thought, but if it made him feel safe, in control, they were worth it. I snuggled down deeper under the comforter.

"Together," I sighed.

"Together," Jason echoed back.

Suddenly, he rolled up onto the pillows, crushing them down with his arms and chest—his bare chest. I rolled over on my side to face him. Our honeymoon night, our last night and all the ones in between flashed through my thoughts. Our chemistry was incredible—his arms around me—mine around him—a little sigh escaped.

His smile gave me hope, hope that maybe he felt in control of his demon, like I had learned to do. He pushed forward and kissed me.

"Jason—"

"I'm sorry," he said, easing back up on top of the pillows.

"That's okay," I lied.

"Why are you awake?" he asked, resting his chin on his forearm.

"I don't know—just woke up."

"Come on, you were tossing and turning and then suddenly jerked awake. You mumbled something, but I couldn't make it out."

"It was just a night terror—an overactive imagination, I guess, or maybe the baby."

"You're both alright then?"

I reached over and cupped his cheek. "As long as we're with you."

He kissed my hand. I withdrew it and tucked it back under the covers.

"You're cold."

"The covers help. Of course, if you were under them with me—"

"Want me to start a fire?"

"Ugh, that's what I was suggesting."

He frowned. "So, about a fire, in the fireplace?"

"That's okay, I imagine the sun will be up soon."

"You sure you're okay?"

"As 'okay' as I'm going to get tonight, I guess."

Can I ask you something?" he asked.

"Anything."

He hesitated. "Do you think I'll be a good father?" he continued before I could respond. "I mean college drop out, quit football, left you, no job—kind of a loser, you know."

Of course, he was going to be a magnificent father, so instead of answering such an absurd question, I asked my own. "What kind of mother do you think I'll be? Besides the obvious," I made a biting motion, "I ditched high school, could have killed you multiple times, then there's the whole false identity thing—kind of a psycho, you know."

He frowned. "That's—"

"—ridiculous," we both said.

I winked.

"The way you do things like that." He smiled. "It's part of why I love you so much."

"Part?" I bobbed my brow.

"Izzy," he warned.

"I know, no fire tonight, I can wait—not too long, though."

He slid back over to his side and the pillows sprung back up between us. I lay quietly, listening to his breathing and I think he was listening to mine. Sure, we weren't in each other's arms, but we didn't need to be. I could feel him in every fiber of my being.

I couldn't resist, so I quietly snuck my silk nightgown out of the nightstand drawer. Without warning, I tossed it over the mound of pillows.

"Seriously?" The nightgown came flying back over the pillows.

"Sorry," I pouted. I folded it and tucked it away for another night.

"I hope our baby looks like you," he said softly.

"Not the hair," I joked. "I hope he looks like you. Can you imagine a world with two of you?" I fanned my face with my hand.

"He?" Jason asked.

"Just a feeling."

He popped back up on top of the pillows, leaned forward and kissed me. "Goodnight." He slipped back over to his side, out of sight.

"Goodnight."

### * * *

Despite the urgency to locate my family, Jason was certain we would not be able to find them. It was obvious he had been with them at some point, and I had to trust he knew what was best.

We spent the next four days getting past the hurt that still lingered. Our days were filled with walks around the grounds, the river, and even the old barn where Jason and Tink had gotten the strange little car working. The evenings were spent by the fire and, by the third night, wrapped in one another's arms—we even made Smores that night. Through all that time, we never mentioned the Faulkners or the impending danger Jason alluded to at Kelly's.

The pillow wall was gone now, but Jason still maintained a safe distance when we were in bed. While I missed the intimacy, I knew one day he would be able to cope. For now, sitting by the fire together was perfect.

"Come on sleepy head," Jason said, "I'm putting the two of you to bed." He slid out from under the quilt, stood and then swept the quilt and me up in his arms.

I lay my head on his shoulder as he carried me up the stairs. "I love you."

He paused, looking down on me with that incredible smile of his. "I love you."

At the edge of the bed, he pulled me closer and kissed me with a fiery kiss—the kiss I'd been waiting for, but I yawned right in the middle of it. He sat down on the edge of the bed, with me still in his arms, and laughed.

"I'm sorry. You're not mad, are you—I'm exhausted."

He gave me another quick kiss. "You are so adorable." He stood and then gently tucked me in under the covers.

I tried, but I couldn't keep my eyes open. I managed to open them once as the room filled with the flickering light from the fire Jason started to keep me warm. His silhouette is the last thing I remember before I fell asleep. Could it be any more perfect?

Suddenly, I jerked awake. I heard something. I glanced over at Jason, sound asleep, arms wrapped around his pillow—I could have been that pillow. The ceiling reflected the faint glow of the dying embers. I listened, but the house was quiet—and cold. I gently slipped out of bed and tiptoed over to add a log to the fire. I looked back at Jason, stretched out on top of the covers. I should have been that pillow. I eased down onto the warm floor next to the fire and stared into the embers as the log slowly began to turn to flame. The warmth of the fire slowly sank in, taking away the chill.

"Your daddy is amazing," I whispered as I gently caressed my baby bump. "You have no idea how lucky you are." I'd been such a fool, so easily misled by thinking with my brain and not listening to my heart. Jason loved me as much as I loved him—I knew that now—I always knew that. Whether eternity or until death, we would always love one another. I flinched as a pair of hands grasped my shoulders.

"What are you doing over here on the floor?" Jason asked. "Ahhh, the fire—of course. I'm sorry I didn't realize—"

"I love you."

He chuckled. "And I love you."

"No, I mean I know you love me, that we are in love."

"Okay." Jason slowly lifted me to my feet, turned me in his arms so I was facing him and then cuddled me to his chest. "I am so in love with you."

My knees gave out.

"Easy." He caught me.

"Did you hear that?" I suddenly perked up. "Did you?"

It looked like he strained to listen. "Nope, don't hear anything but your pounding heart."

"Mine?" I pressed my hand against his chest.

"Well, there is your growling stomach," he teased. "Hungry?"

"Now that you mention it, I'm starved."

"You don't do the whole pickles and ice cream thing do you?"

"No." I slapped his shoulder.

"Cereal it is then." He set me back down on the floor by the fire. "I'll be right back."

"You don't have to—" But he was gone, down the stairs already. It was amazing how quickly he could move. It might not be vampire speed, but it was close. What had I done to him? Had I condemned him to the historian's monstrous fate? Was that what was happening? I shuttered. What choice did I have back then? None. There was no other choice—letting him die was never a choice, but this?

"Here we go," Jason said, waltzing back into the room with a tray. He sat down next to me and set the tray in front of us. Let's see, we have one with the little marshmallow shapes and another one with honey flavored Os."

"I'll have the marshmallow one."

He cocked his head to the side. "Since when do you like marshmallow—come to think of it, you devoured the Smores."

I grinned. "The baby loves them."

He poured us each a bowl—even had an ice cube for mine—and splashed on the milk. We dug in.

I was halfway through my second bowl of cereal when I decided to ask. "Are you scared?"

He looked at me so strangely—even apprehensively.

"I know guys don't like to talk about that kind of stuff, but—"

"Yes." He set his bowl down and then draped his arm around my shoulders.

I leaned in close, resting my head against his shoulder.

"I'm afraid of hurting you—of never being able to be with you—of telling you—"

I raised up. "Telling me what?"

His gaze drifted away from me to the fire. He remained silent.

I put my bowl down and then got up on my knees and scooted around so I was directly in front of him. "The historian?" I cringed.

For just an instant he looked confused. "Right, I couldn't live if I was like that."

I grasped his shoulders. "Jason, what are you not telling me?"

He shrugged. "Oh, I forgot, I found your noise." He reached down to the tray and pulled up my cell phone. "This yours?"

"I knew I heard a beep, I knew it." I took the phone from him. "It's a text from Cathy." I touched the screen to reveal the message and read aloud, "Hollingsworth. Danger. When?"

"Kind of a strange message, even for her," Jason said.

"The batteries almost dead." I closed the screen and set the phone back on the tray. "It's a warning."

"About Hollingsworth?"

"So you do know who he is," I accused.

He took my hands gently and lowered them between us, but didn't let go. "I know I hurt you—disappointed you, but I thought we'd gotten past—"

"I'm sorry. We have—I have."

"I'm still working on it," he said. "I acted like such a selfish jerk. You might be able to forgive me—me, I'm not so sure."

I kissed his hand and then leaned forward and kissed his lips. He let go of my hands and caressed my cheeks taking in the kiss. Finally, I eased back.

"We're fine, Jason. If you're still worried, you needn't be." I kissed him again and then sat back on my legs. "You met Hollingsworth when you were here before, right?"

"Not the second time."

"The nights you didn't come home?"

"Guilty." He hung his head.

I reached forward and lifted his chin. "You were protecting me. I understand that now."

He stared deep into my eyes and began. "I didn't know what was happening to me—it had been building for awhile, but I was getting worried. I needed options. This was close—well sort of—and there was the tunnel. I knew the house was gone, but the tunnel was a good place to hide should it come to that. I was surprised to find the house under construction when I got here, but well, it was the Faulkner plantation and I figured your dad was probably having it restored again—you know, since we destroyed the historian. Hollingsworth was the job foreman."

"No, he wasn't."

"Sure, he had the hard hat, blueprints, the whole shebang." He scratched his head. "You didn't meet him, did you?"

"He was here when Cathy and I arrived."

"But the house was already finished."

"So you were here. The water in the tunnel—the ripples, they were yours."

"No. Well, there was the time—"

"Then it was you downstairs."

I came back when you were sleeping—just knowing you were so close, I had to see you. I watched you for hours. I longed for you so deeply. When you stirred, I raced downstairs, but bumped into the table in the foyer."

"I heard you," I said. "I went to the window and saw your path through the tall grass, but not you."

"I was crazy to put you at risk like that, but I had to see you and, just as certainly, I had to leave so I couldn't hurt you."

"I'm glad you came, it gave me hope. I just wish you would have stayed, but I do understand. So, what about the pool in the tunnel, something made the water move."

"Something? As in—"

"Had to be, right? I mean it's too far to the river for a human," I confirmed.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on, maybe it was one of your fam—no, that couldn't be. So, okay, maybe your dad just had him stay on to run the place."

"A construction foreman? I doubt it—he would lack the refinement, not to mention all the human contact. I just don't see Dad taking that kind of risk."

"I agree, not like your dad at all. Hollingsworth." He tapped his chin with his finger. "So you're saying he was a vampire." His muscles tensed. "So Cathy's text, 'Hollingsworth. Danger.' means she just figured that out?"

"No, we figured that out when she was still here. We also assumed the entire staff was vampires as well. Her text is a warning like I said."

"And the 'When?' What does that mean?"

"Her visions lack a timestamp when they're distant. The timing becomes clearer as the event gets closer."

"So she can still do the whole see into the future thing?"

"Yep. She can even manipulate objects. I locked myself in the bathroom—long story, and she unlocked the door with her thoughts."

"Impressive. So if I've got this straight, vampire Hollingsworth saw me, and then later he and said staff saw you and Cathy. If you're right about the vampire thing, then—" He tapped his lip with his finger again. "Then I don't know. Are vampires watching the house? Us? Makes absolutely no sense."

"Did you ever notice Hollingsworth's eyes?" I asked.

"You or Cathy?"

"No, just that he never touched us skin to skin—he wore gloves. That's enough, right?"

"As hot as it has been, I'd say so. What were they doing here?" Jason puzzled.

"We know the historian is gone, but maybe not all his allies. Maybe scouts?"

"The Vampire Royalty—scouts for the Vampire Royalty!"

Just then my cell phone lit up. Jason reached over, tapped the screen and glanced down. He moved quickly—without hesitation and the next thing I knew I was in his arms and we were racing down the stairs. The grass stung my bare feet as we streaked across the field. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. He began my once familiar zigzag through the trees—I had no idea he was this agile.

"What was the message?" My voice quivered from the jostling.

Jason glanced at me for an instant. "Now!" He ran even faster.

### Chapter 17

After what I assume was several miles, Jason's arms began to tremble. He might have slowed, it was hard to tell since we weren't going in a straight line and it was pitch black—the trees were only faint shadows. We exchanged an apprehensive glance.

"Stop," I said. "You're going to hurt yourself."

He forced a smile but slowed to a jog. Finally, he had to stop. He carefully set me on my feet. "Where are your shoes?" He huffed.

"The floor was warm—I didn't need them."

He shook his arms like athletes do when they're trying to relax their muscles. "Piggyback?"

"No, rest a minute."

He bent down, putting his hands on his knees and panted. "We can't stay long," he gasped. "If they're—they won't be far behind." He made a quick visual scan of our surroundings. "Just a couple of minutes."

The ground was cold and every time I tried to move, a stick or something under the leaves stabbed my tender feet. I don't recall the woods ever being so dark. Jason sank down to his knees, sweat glistening off his skin. I knelt down next to him and stroked his back.

"Sit, just for a little while, please."

He sat back on his legs, scanning our surroundings again.

"You can't possibly see anything," I said. "It's pitch black out here. How, Jason? How did you do that—the strength—the speed—the darkness?"

"You get it now—how dangerous I am?"

"Beyond human strength, but humanly exhausted," I said. "What do you feel?"

"Not now, Izzy." He shook his head and took another deep breath.

"Yes, now! Absolutely now." I reached down to my ankle and rubbed my finger on a spot that felt wet. I licked my finger—salty—blood. I kissed Jason and then quickly forced my finger in his mouth. "Anything?" I was expecting him to have a sudden lust for my blood, like maybe he was oscillating back and forth between human and almost vampire. Kind of like the changes the historian went through while I was captive.

He pushed my finger away. "You're hurt."

Not what I expected. "You don't feel a burning—"

"—thirst for your blood? No, it's not like that." Suddenly he pulled me into a breathtaking kiss. Just as suddenly, he pushed back. "You're so captivating—so beautiful, and your scent—staggering, still beyond my control." He kissed the palm of my hand and then released it. "Ready?"

"Where are we going? Oh my God, Jason, my cell phone! We left my cell phone."

"I don't think it matters, they probably already know where we call home."

"Where your mom and Coach live," I clarified. "We have to warn them."

"Even if we could, there's no safe place. Wait, a cruise. They could drive to Baltimore and take the next cruise ship to wherever."

"Perfect. How? How do we tell them?"

"There's a farm not too far from here. The old guy is by himself. The sun should almost be up by the time we get there. Once he goes out to the barn to milk the cows, we should be able to slip in and use his phone. You make the call while I keep watch."

"No, I don't think I could convince your mom. You'll have to call."

He stood, and then swept me up on his shoulders piggyback style.

"Watch the low branches," I cautioned.

I rocked back and had to grab his head as he took off running again. It was much more difficult on his shoulders, but I held on as tight as I could. When the sky started to brighten in the east, Jason slowed to a jog. After a few more minutes, we came to a stop at the edge of the woods. A thick layer of fog clung to the meadow in front of us. On the far side, there was a small, white, postcard perfect farmhouse. Jason eased me down by his side. He looked at me apprehensively.

"Don't even flinch a muscle, got it?"

I nodded.

"I'll check it out and be right back."

I could see him as he raced toward the house. The exertion of the long run and carrying me had drained his strength considerably. As he crossed the field, plumes of fog swirled behind him like the vortex behind the wing of an airplane. The sky was much lighter now and we were surrounded by low mountains, but I had no idea where we were. Given the sky was brighter to my right, we must be headed north. We couldn't be out of Georgia, could we? The plumes of fog swirled again as Jason returned.

"No sign of the farmer. I don't think he's here. I don't like not knowing, but it's now or never." He swept me up into his arms and we started toward the house. As we entered the fog, he whispered, "Remember follow the leader at the soccer park?"

"Yes." I held out my arms like wings and let the mist roll around them. "Hope this doesn't turn out the same."

"Huh?"

"The police," I reminded.

"Right."

We cleared the fog and then the short, open distance to the side of the house. Jason leaned back against the wood siding and nodded toward the power lines overhead.

"The twisted one is a phone line," he whispered. "Just hope it's not out of service."

He carried me up the steps and eased the front door open and then we were inside.

"You sure he's not here?" I whispered.

"If he is, he's out in the barn." Jason scanned the room. "No phone."

"Maybe the kitchen."

We silently made our way across the room and into the kitchen at the back of the house.

"There." I pointed. "On the wall by the back door."

Jason gently set me down on the cold, linoleum floor next to the wall phone. "Rotary."

"I've seen them in antique shops," I said. "You have to lift the handpiece before you dial."

We both looked out the window in the back door toward the barn.

"Are you sure we're alone?" I asked.

"Yep, checked every room. He has to be in the barn, or not here at all."

"Okay, ready. You know what to say?" I started dialing and the phone made a horrible screeching sound. I pressed down the receiver hook. "I don't know the area code."

"Two four zero," Jason said.

I dialed again. "It's ringing." I handed Jason the phone.

We stepped out of view from the window and Jason held the handpiece between us so we could both here. "Still ringing," he observed.

"It's early."

"Hello?" A groggy female voice finally answered.

"Mom."

"Jason?" Nancy's voice perked up immediately. "Jason, is that you?"

"Yes—"

"Where are—"

"Hold on, Mom." He glanced at me before continuing. "Mom, you know certain things about Izzy and me, right?"

"I suppose. Is she with you? She's been devastated, I hope whatever you're doing was worth the pain you caused—"

"I'm right here," I said.

"Then you're together," she said in a sigh of obvious relief. If she only knew.

"Mom," Jason said, "Mom, you have to listen. I can't go into detail, but you have to leave—"

"Leave? Do you need us to come get you?"

"Is that, Izzy?" Coach's sleepy voice came from the background.

"It's Jason and they're together."

"Knew he'd come around. They alright?"

"Mom, Mom, I want you and Coach to go on a cruise."

"Right now," I added.

"That's sweet, but we can't—"

"Now Mom! Pack your bags and head for the shipyard in Baltimore."

"This is serious," she said, and then turned away from the phone. "They want us to go on a cruise."

"What's this all about?" Coach asked.

It was going to be much more difficult to not explain things to Coach.

"Take Nancy on that honeymoon cruise you wanted. No time like the present," I added.

"Well sure, one day we hope—"

"Now!" I said, unintentionally raising my voice.

"Let me give it a try," Jason whispered.

We both looked toward the barn as a rooster crowed. I nearly wet myself.

"Coach, Sam, Dad," Jason said, "I can't go into detail—you're going to have to take my word on this—but the two of you are in danger. You have to get out of the house—out of Boonsboro, immediately."

"Danger," he huffed with a protective defiance.

"Remember 'go with your gut'?" Jason tried. "I'm serious, my gut—"

"Okay," Coach grumbled, "bein' mighty evasive, but I suppose we can get packed after practice. I'll see if one of the other coaches can—"

"No!" I almost yelled. We both did a double take out the back window.

"Now, right this minute," Jason said.

"It's like that then, your gut?"

"Please, Coach," I begged. "Do it for me, for us?"

"You all pullin' all the strings. Baltimore, you say."

"Yes," Jason acknowledged. "Just throw a few personal things in a bag and go. You can buy whatever you need once you're onboard."

"Alright, then." He turned away from the phone. "Get dressed and pack a bag. Don't just sit there, kids said it's urgent."

"Oh alright. I never—"

"Thanks, Coach," I said. "We'll pick up the tab; call it a belated wedding gift."

"Mighty kind, mighty kind indeed. You two okay?"

"We're fine."

"But Nancy and I have to leave the country."

"Coach," Jason said. "If you can't get on a cruise today, find out where there is one, get to the airport and get there."

"Alright, I read you loud and clear."

"We love you guys," I said. "Have fun."

"Take care of Mom," Jason added.

"I will. You know I will."

"Bye."

Jason hung up the phone. "You think they got it?"

"I hope so. Coach didn't like the way you were beating around the bush, but it sounded like he was going to follow through."

"Yeah, but you know how Mom can be."

I nodded. "But she's better since Coach is in her life."

There was a clanking sound from the barn.

"Do you think we could find a pair of socks, or slippers, or maybe even shoes?" I asked.

"Breaking and entering," Jason joked to ease the tension. "Might as well add petty theft. We're going to be great parents, oh yeah." He nodded.

He carried me to the bedroom. The farmer must have been married because there was a closet with women's clothes. We found socks and a pair of canvas shoes that fit if I wore two pairs of socks. Jason also 'borrowed' a skin-tight, long-sleeved, camo undershirt and a pair of socks. There was another clank in the barn, the exact same sound as before.

"What is that?" I asked.

"We have to go," Jason demanded.

"No, we have to check to make sure the farmer is okay. You said he's out here all alone."

"You're not going to take my word for it," Jason guessed. "Okay, come on."

I followed Jason out the back door, down the wooden steps and across the gravel driveway to the edge of the massive barn door. A tractor blocked most of the opening. To see anything, we would have to go inside. We slid along the side of the tractor and as we reached the huge back tires, the clanking started again. It was on the opposite side. Jason led me quietly around the back of the tractor. In the faint light, I could barely make out the silhouette of a cow.

"What do you see?" I asked.

He let out a relieved breath.

"What?"

"It's just the cow. When she wags her tail, it's hitting a bucket."

"That's a relief. I guess you were right about the farmer not being here." I leaned back against the wheel and looked up toward the sun-bathed loft. "Ahhh!" I screamed.

The farmer's body was dangling off the edge of the loft, his arm and neck were obviously broken, but that wasn't the worst of it. The bite marks and pale skin meant only one thing.

Jason wanted to leave immediately, but I convinced him we had to go back to the house and wipe down everything we'd touched. Once we were sure there was nothing for the police to find, we started for the door. We both almost jumped out of our skin when the phone rang.

Jason looked at me. "Coach calling back?"

We both looked at the old rotary phone as it rang again.

"No way to know," Jason said. "Hope whoever it is, didn't try while we were using the phone—" And then, I was in his arms and we were racing across the field toward the woods again.

I looked back over Jason's shoulder. The poor man, to meet death like that, all alone, so sad. Maybe he was with his wife now. I could only hope that such a thing was possible.

It wasn't long before we began an ascent up a steep crevice in the rocks. With amazing prowess, Jason jumped from rock to rock until we reached a small clearing near the top. Once there, Jason faltered and then collapsed with me across his chest.

"Jason! Jason! What's wrong?"

"Okay," he gasped.

As we had vaulted over the crevice, I'd noticed that there was a trickle of water running down between the rocks. I carefully walked over to the rocks, pushed some brush away only to find a copperhead, coiled, ready to strike. I froze. Even if not fatal—I had no idea—a bite would be excruciating, and I didn't know what the venom might do to the baby. There was a stick, close to my foot, but I was afraid to move, afraid any motion might trigger the snake's instinct to strike.

"What's wrong?" Jason huffed, probably realizing I was frozen. He was still struggling to catch his breath.

I didn't respond, but the snake slowly began to let down its guard. It was still faster than I was, but at least I was no longer in imminent danger. I slowly turned my head toward Jason and silently mouthed, "SNAKE."

Jason reached for a baseball sized rock, and before I knew what happened, he threw it between my legs, splattering the snake against the boulder behind it. Jason collapsed back onto the ground.

I grabbed the stick by my foot and used it to probe around the trickle of water. When I was satisfied there were no other snakes, I cupped my hands and filled them with the cool, mountain water. I eased back to Jason and he raised his head enough to drink. I got him four more before his breathing began to slow.

"Thanks," he said. "If we can make it just a little bit further, there's a small pool. It would really help."

"Rest a little, then we'll try," I said.

He nodded out of necessity—he wasn't going anywhere.

Once the morning haze burned off, we had a spectacular view East. I tilted my head back and let the sunshine take away the morning chill while Jason recovered.

It was close to midday when Jason finally stirred.

"How do you feel?"

He pushed himself up and then stood. "I should be able to make it." He held out his arms.

"I can do it." I looked up the remainder of the steep crevice. I think, I thought.

It was difficult, to say the least, and we helped each other over some of the more treacherous spots, but we finally made it to the top. The area was much more secluded. It felt safe, at least for now.

Jason wasted no time and pulled off the tight camo shirt, stepped out of his jeans and then slipped into the water. "Ah, this is what I need." He was on his back, slipped his head under the water and when he came up, squirt a mouthful of water at me. I jumped to the side.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked. "It's not like anyone is going to see us, besides, we are married."

My heart skipped a beat. "Are you sure?"

"We're just cooling off, recharging. I'll be fine."

I pulled off my sweatshirt but left the band shirt. He might be exhausted beyond being dangerous—not to me, but to himself. I remember how difficult it was. Even so, I couldn't get my sweatpants wet, they would take forever to dry. I tried to be discrete and sat down at the edge of the pool with my back slightly toward him before I slipped them off and then quickly slid into the water. "Ahh!" The cold water took my breath away.

Jason slid over and wrapped me in his arms. His body was hot and took the chill away. I rested my head on his shoulder and we just lay there in the shallow water, staring up at the canopy of leaves.

"You okay?" I ventured hoping the answer was yes.

"Yeah, you?"

"My legs are cold."

He pulled me closer, rolled over on his side and put his right leg around my legs. "Better?"

I snuggled down against his chest and thought of all the beautiful moments we'd spent in one another's arms. Jason lifted up his head, kissed me and then lay back in the water again.

The times I'd spent at the creek, in my pool doing exactly what Jason was doing, crossed my mind. For me, though, it wasn't recharging as much as it was cleansing my senses so I could function after being around him.

"You think they're safe?" I asked.

"Coach didn't like my evasiveness, but he heard us loud and clear."

"But your mom—"

"No, he understood the urgency. He'll keep her safe, at least for now."

I slid my arm across a moss covered rock and then across his chest.

He glanced down and a smile filled his lips. "You putting the moves on me?"

"Should I be?"

He slid his hand up my arm until it was resting on my shoulder and then slowly slid it behind my neck and pulled me into a passionate kiss.

If you can be cold and melt at the same time, I did. I was freezing, but I didn't want this to end.

Jason eased me back until our lips were just touching. "God I've missed you. I love you so much I—You're shivering." He scooped me up out of the water in one motion.

"I've come at a bad time," a voice muttered.

I turned from Jason. "Melanie? Melanie!"

Her gaze washed over us, standing there dripping wet in nothing but our underwear, but she didn't respond with one of her witty remarks. Instead, she pointed into the forest and spoke to Jason. "Just over two miles. Were you followed?"

"No," Jason replied, "but there's been a development."

She cocked her head to the side and looked at me curiously. She managed a brief, seemingly painful smile. "When you're ready." And she was gone.

Jason set me on the large rock at the edge of the pool and then tossed me my sweats. We dressed quickly.

"She seemed, different," I said. "Tense."

Jason nodded but said nothing. When we were finished dressing, he scooped me up and we raced off into the woods. After what I assume was two miles, Jason slowed, and then set me down. We stood there, hand-in-hand and waited.

"It's me, isn't it?" I whispered.

He squeezed my hand. "Could still be me—together?" He shrugged.

Elizabeth emerged through the tangle of underbrush in front of us.

"Hi," I said.

Her smile was warm, endearing—under control. Behind her, Benjamin emerged, erect, dignified, yet his compassion showed through as I remembered.

"Father." I curtsied.

To their right, Tink emerged holding Hayley's hand, but she drew up short.

"It's okay," I said, "I understand." At least for now, the breeze was from behind them—probably not an accident. "Melanie? Nathan?"

Jason pulled me closer and wrapped his arm around my waist as Melanie stepped to Benjamin's side. Her expression was void of emotion.

"Nathan?"

Jason gave me a little squeeze, but no one else offered any kind of response. I knew we were in danger, but this was not the reunion I expected. Maybe I should have, but I didn't, not at all. I looked back up at Jason. He shook his head.

Benjamin stepped forward. "I am afraid—"

"With your permission?" Jason interrupted.

He never interrupted Benjamin—never.

"As you wish," Benjamin replied.

Jason looked toward Melanie and then turned me toward him. "Nathan is gone."

"Gone? Gone where?"

"Dead," Melanie snapped, "Destroyed, gone forever."

"What?" I teetered on the edge of falling.

Jason cuddled me, lowering me until he was on one knee. "I'm so sorry."

"This is what you couldn't tell me?"

Jason's gaze sank from mine. "I couldn't bring myself—" He shook his head.

"It was not his place," Elizabeth defended.

"What about forever?" I cried, pounding my fist against Jason's chest. Tears streamed down my face. I looked up at Melanie. "It can't be, not Nathan, he's part of your forever."

Her face remained placid and then she was gone. I collapsed back onto Jason's shoulder.

Jason drew me tightly against his chest. "I'm sorry, so very sorry."

From the moment Jason told me about the potential war, I knew humans and vampires alike were in danger, but vampires were immortal and we were the good guys. I never expected one of my family's forever to end.

After awhile, Jason helped me to my feet.

I wiped my tears away. "Forgive my human weakness."

Benjamin nodded. "He will be missed, but remembered by us all."

I pushed back the sorrow and my concern for Melanie. "How can we help?"

Jason squeezed my hand. I knew he would want to help as much as I did.

"Dear child, you're mortal—" Elizabeth began.

Benjamin raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence.

"Forgive me," Elizabeth whispered.

"Is this because of me? Because of my choice? Have I done this to you? To Nathan?"

"No," Benjamin said. "I think not. This goes back many years to a previous encounter that did not end well in their eyes."

"Then we are talking about the Royal—?"

"I will not dignify them with such a title. Over the centuries they have become vile creatures only interested in their own sadistic endeavors and their insatiable thirst for power. They've lost all sense of humanity, which is where we all originated."

"How long?" I asked.

Tink shrugged.

"Oh," Jason said, "we have news that might shed some light on that. We believe one or more of their scouts were at the mansion when Izzy arrived, but they did nothing to harm her."

"They also saw Jason when he was there before," I added.

"She's right, but I had no idea they were vampires—didn't even consider the possibility at the time," Jason said.

Benjamin glanced toward Tink and nodded. "That could explain the ambush."

"That was my fault!" Jason gasped, staggering back a step.

"You said yourself, you had no idea they were anything but what they seemed," Benjamin concurred. "This is not of your doing. You were simply the means to an end."

"Nathan's end," I mumbled.

Jason tensed and pulled away from me.

"No, Jason!" I yelled, fearing he might run. "Don't even think about it. It's going to take us all if we're going to defeat them."

"Defeating them is impossible," Melanie said, reappearing out of nowhere.

"We will find a way," I said. "Right, Jason?" His expression made it obvious he knew a lot more about this than he had led on. "Or die trying," I added.

I could feel everyone stare at my belly—my baby. "Or die trying," I repeated.

### Chapter 18

There was a small stock of non-perishable, human food in the makeshift dwelling where we were camped, but after three days, it was beginning to run low. It occurred to me that it might not have been intended for two. We had several roundtable discussions about our situation, but no definitive plan. Still, it seemed like they were skating around something—something they didn't want me to know. Any real hope, though, depended on how much support we could count on. That was iffy because most vampires saw going up against the rulers as impossible. The Faulkners took turns running surveillance sweeps, and so far, there was nothing unusual. Jason helped, and more than once, it seemed like Tink disappeared at the same time. Each time I'd noticed it, Tink reappeared in the camp long before Jason returned. It was almost like it was planned—a ploy. Secret rendezvous and unspoken plans worried me. It was after one such occurrence that Jason and Tink huddled around Benjamin in what seemed like a conversation about strategy. I was sitting alone, a slight distance from them.

Elizabeth approached with Melanie not too far behind. "How are you managing, dear?" Elizabeth asked.

"Okay, I guess. I'm a little worried about my diet, though."

"You do not find the provisions satisfactory?"

"It's not that, they're fine for me." I put my hand on my baby bump. "It's the baby I'm worried about."

"Why?" Melanie said from behind Elizabeth.

"I was taking prenatal vitamins. They help the baby develop."

"Ahh," Elizabeth responded. She stooped down in front of me. "May I?" She extended her hand.

"Absolutely, I'd love for you to feel him." I lifted up my sweats and shirt to expose my belly. I really was showing now. I noticed Jason glance over at us.

Elizabeth slowly moved her hand toward my stomach. Without thinking, I grasped her hand to direct it toward the baby. She momentarily froze with such an odd expression on her face.

"What is it? My touch!" I immediately released her hand. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"Not at all." She slowly moved her hand toward my face and then her cold hand cupped my cheek. "You're so beautiful inside, the love you feel for Jason, the baby and for us is quite endearing."

"Of course. You're all my family."

She released my cheek and her cool, warmth slowly subsided. As it did, her brow creased with concern. She glanced toward Benjamin. If there was some unspoken thing going on, she was in on it.

"Please," I said, "I'd love for you to feel the baby." I pulled my tops up a little higher and pointed. "Right about here."

Elizabeth ever so gently placed her hand on my abdomen. Her face brightened with a smile. Suddenly, the baby moved.

"Did you feel that?" I asked. "I think he moved."

"She did," Elizabeth said.

Jason broke away from whatever it was they were doing and raced over to us. "She?" he said.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied. She moved her hand slightly and cupped the side of my bump. The baby moved to her as if _she_ wanted to be in her hand. "Here," Elizabeth said, motioning toward Jason.

When Jason's hand came to rest next to hers, the baby moved again. "Oh my God," Jason said, "she did move." He looked at me. "Did you feel that?"

I nodded as a tear trickled down my cheek. "Happy," I said to Jason's concerned eyes.

Elizabeth looked up toward Melanie.

"Please," I urged.

Melanie hesitated, but then cautiously stooped down next to Elizabeth. "I'm not sure I should." Her once childlike demeanor showed such sorrow now.

"We're sisters," I said. "Please."

Jason stepped back to give Melanie some space. Vampires don't tremble, but it almost looked like her hand was trembling as she slowly reached out to me. The apprehension in her face vanished as soon as she touched me. The baby moved again.

"I think she likes you guys."

Melanie glanced at Elizabeth. "Izzy's right," Melanie said.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied and then addressed me. "She needs better nourishment."

"She, you're sure?"

"Absolutely," Elizabeth said.

Melanie nodded. They both pulled their hands away and then stood.

"She," Jason confirmed. He looked at me. "A name?" He made his signature motion between us.

"Go ahead," I said.

"Elina."

"Yes!" It's perfect, Elizabeth and Nancy." I looked up at Elizabeth. "Are you okay with that?"

She looked shocked I would ask. "Yes. Yes of course. Such a beautiful name. A special name for a special little girl."

Another happy tear found its way down my cheek.

Elizabeth and Melanie returned to speak with Benjamin and Tink, and I saw the two men look our way more than once. Jason knelt down in front of me.

"She moved, she really moved. It makes this so real."

"Throwing up all the time made it real for me," I joked.

"I'm sorry I wasn't—"

"Oh no, you don't. None of that, we're fine and we're going to have a beautiful little girl."

"Elizabeth said you need to eat better."

"I was taking vitamins, but they got left behind."

Jason abruptly stood. "Tink!" he called. "Is the transportation where we left it?"

"Yes," Tink replied, but glanced toward Benjamin. "I'm not sure now—"

"It's for Elina, she needs vitamins and Izzy and I need to restock our provisions."

Again, Tink looked toward Benjamin. Benjamin motioned for us to join them. He waited until we were all gathered before he spoke.

"We need to hunt, to maintain peak performance should it come to that, and Jason feels the need to restock their provisions as well at least for—" He paused. "For Elina." His gaze met mine and his warmth was overwhelming, but there was something else, uncertainty, maybe even sadness. "I'm not entirely happy with the timing of these necessities," he continued, "but they are what they are and must be met. We will hunt in groups and remain as close to this area as possible." He looked at the others. "We will also be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary."

"I don't think they should be away from us," Hayley said.

Tink nodded agreement as did Melanie.

"We'll stay together too," Jason said, stating the obvious. "And also keep an eye out for anything unusual. I'll get a newspaper. We can see if there have been any recent disappearances or deaths."

"Excellent!" Benjamin said seeming to ignore Hayley and Tink's concern. "Proceed deliberately and return as quickly as possible."

We began to disperse when Hayley spoke up again. "Be careful when you return. Our camp will be unoccupied, vulnerable."

We all nodded that we understood the danger of another possible ambush.

### * * *

"You have _transportation_ out here?" I asked as I followed Jason through the tangled underbrush.

"You remember the Volksrod?"

"I wondered what happened to that thing."

"Yeah, still runs as good as when Tink and I got it going." He stopped. "I'm sorry; I know you were shocked to hear about Nathan. I should have told you, but I couldn't bring myself to lay that on you, not in your condition, not after what I—"

"My condition?" I fumed. "You mean pregnant?"

"I just didn't want to hurt you anymore."

I took a breath. "Okay, I can see that and while pregnant is a condition, I'm not some helpless little girl."

He nodded and then looked through the underbrush. "It's right up here. Come on, help me with these branches."

We went another twenty feet or so and dug into a pile of sticks until the little, squashed car appeared. Jason pushed back the last remaining branches and then opened my door. I looked down at the metal seat pan, and then put my hands on my thin butt. "This is going to hurt."

"I'll go as easy as I can, but it is bumpy—not really made for off roadin' like the Rover, although Tink and I tweaked the rear torsion bars."

"Am I supposed to understand that?"

He laughed. "Nah, you're a girl. Maybe wad up your sweatshirt and sit on it." He pulled his camo tee shirt out to the side. "I don't think mine will help much."

"Better than nothing, I guess." I pulled my sweatshirt off over my head, folded it and put it on the seat. I squeezed in and Jason slammed the door behind me, making doubly sure it was secure.

"Comfy?" he teased as he climbed in behind the wheel. "Let's just hope the battery isn't dead."

It took a couple of tries, but just when it seemed the battery was about to give out, the engine fired in a cloud of blue smoke.

"Subtle, real subtle," I said.

Jason shrugged and ground it into first gear and we were on our way down what looked like either a fire road or break line. Like Jason said, the car wasn't built for off-roading, and despite whatever he and Tink had done, the suspension kept bottoming out. There was no doubt my backside was going to be bruised.

"Take it easy," I pleaded as we hit the lip of the paved road at the bottom of the hill.

"Sorry."

"Tell it to your daughter."

"Our daughter." Jason leaned over and kissed me. "You sure you're okay with Elina?"

"It's perfect, just like I know she's going to be."

We exchanged an awkward glance. We both knew the unlikelihood of that actually happening.

"What about a middle name?" Jason asked on a brighter note. "I picked her first name, only seems fair you should pick her middle name."

"I don't know."

"Your birth mother's name?" Jason suggested.

"Elina Jessica Whitaker. Nah, doesn't sound right. Faulkner? You know, my family name."

"Elina Faulkner Whitaker," Jason pronounced. "Nice, old, kind of an aristocratic ring to it."

"Old? Aristocratic? Oh, I don't know. I'll think about it."

"Sure." Jason veered out of our lane to pass an overloaded old, rusty pickup.

"Hey, we want to stay under the radar here," I reminded him.

"Yeah, I know, sorry."

I pointed ahead. "There's a little convenience store. That should do."

"Okay, hang on girls." Jason let off the gas and turned onto the gravel parking lot."

Splash! And almost instantly, thud! We bottomed out in a huge puddle almost as long as the car.

"Sorry, didn't expect that."

"I hope you didn't break the radiator."

"Air-cooled, no radiator," Jason said, matter-of-factly.

"Well, you could have broken something—me!"

He patted the dash. "Sorry ol' girl."

"You're not implying—"

He jumped out of the car before I could finish. "Come on ladies, time's a wastin'."

The store didn't have the selection I'd hoped for—Jason even hesitantly suggested we go further into town, but we made do with what was there. I got some kind of soy milk that the label said didn't need refrigeration. It wasn't really milk, but it at least sounded healthy. Jason grabbed a copy of the two local newspapers on the shelf and then started up a conversation with the clerk as we were checking out.

"Wife and I are just doing a little off the beaten path kind of vacation thing, anything interesting to see or do around here?"

"Not much. There's the river if you like fishin'."

"Yeah," Jason said, glancing my way, "sure, we like fishin'." Jason and I both noticed the picture on the front of the local paper at the same time. "What's that all about?" Jason pointed toward the photograph of the barn we'd left behind.

"Second attack this month," the cashier said. He took a long drag of his cigarette. "Some kind of animal the police sayin'. They been warnin' folks to stay clear of the woods. Poor ol' Mike, he was a swell guy—just lost his wife a while back. Real shame."

"That's so sad," I said.

"That'll be thirty-two dollars and fifty-eight cents," the cashier said.

"Here's two twenties," Jason said, "I'll top off the gas tank with the rest. If that's okay?"

"Sure, that'd be fine. Pumps on the far side of the building." He pointed toward his left."

"Got it, thanks." Jason grabbed all the heavy bags leaving me with just the bread and granola bars. We headed for the door.

"Ya'll be careful if you go fishin'. There's a nice spot for catfish under the bridge into town—No wait, that's where they found the other fella. Aw, I don't know, just be careful."

"We will," I said. "You too."

He gave me a thumbs up and then pointed to what would be a useless, sawed-off shotgun on the wall behind him.

### * * *

Once we had our groceries packed in the back, Jason drove around the corner to the gas pump. I chose to walk—stretch my legs a little, my backside was aching and probably already bruised. I wasn't looking forward to the return trip.

"Passing through, or still here?" I puzzled, as I walked up to Jason.

"Either way, not good." His muscles tensed, he was obviously on edge. "Surrounded? Waiting?" he mumbled. "Almost seems like we're boxed in, like they're just waiting for the order and then—" He stopped, thought for a moment and then dove right in with an intense determination in his voice. "Listen Izzy. Seriously, I'm not topping this off because we need gas—I'm topping it off because I want you to get in and drive as fast and as far away from here as you can." He held up his hand to stop my objection. "Do like Mom and Coach, get on a ship or a plane and just go somewhere, disappear. Do it for me, for Elina, heck do it for yourself. I'm no idiot. I remember the historian and how impossible that seemed, and I know that was nothing compared to what's coming. You gotta run, you gotta. Please."

"Finished?"

"Please, Izzy. I love you, I can't see you—"

"Die? If I do as you say, that's the only thing that would be different, you wouldn't see me die. If this is the end, my end, your end—our end, then I want it to come on our terms and that means the three of us, together."

Jason's cheeks glistened with tears. "Please, Izzy, you have to try."

I knew he understood, he was just praying for a miracle.

"Then you come with us," I challenged.

He looked up into the hills.

"Right, you can't. Neither can I. The Faulkners are part of our family, who we are. We can no more leave them than I can leave you."

Jason hung up the gas nozzle, closed the gas cap and then opened my door. I squeezed back into the car and we headed back the way we came. We rode in silence, under the looming uncertainty that lay ahead. I pressed my hand against Elina.

"She moved again," I said.

Jason didn't answer. We passed the place where we'd come out onto the main road, but a short distance later, Jason turned off the main road and headed back up into the mountains. He knew the area well. How? The grade was steep, rough, but the little car managed to keep climbing. About two-thirds of the way up the mountain, the path turned left down a narrow ridge. It was easier going now. We would be back to camp soon, but I needed answers. I reached over and turned the ignition key, killing the engine. The car bucked to a stop and backfired.

"Hey, what was that for?" Jason looked over at me half angry but turned away when we made eye contact.

"I want the truth, Jason. We promised each other."

"We did." He twisted in his seat so he was facing me. "What do you want to know?" he asked hesitantly.

"How long have you been with my family?"

"A while."

"That's not an answer. Tink, what about Tink? You go out on reconnaissance and then Tink disappears. It's pretty obvious you two are up to something, and I'm pretty sure the others know what that something is. What's going on?"

Jason's gaze sank from mine for a moment, but he took a deep breath and looked back up at me. "You don't miss much, do you?"

"No, and you certainly know your way around these woods."

He sighed but remained silent like he was contemplating a way out.

"The truth," I reaffirmed.

He nodded slowly. "A couple of months off and on—more on lately."

"They're trying to help you figure out what's happening to you?"

"Not exactly—hold on, don't get angry. It started out that way, but things changed."

"The scouts? Nathan?"

He nodded.

"But you're not going to tell me."

"No."

"I can't believe you would lie—" I stopped myself. He wasn't lying, he was avoiding it—still, he wasn't being forthright and that only meant one thing, he was putting himself in danger to protect me. "What is the plan you all are keeping from me?"

His momentary look of surprise vanished quickly. "Plan?"

"Don't," I huffed.

"You believe in honor, in keeping your word?"

"You know I do, but don't twist this around like that—I'm part of this family too."

"Exactly, the most important part—"

"No. I'm not more important, far from it. We're all in this together—equal."

We sat silently for a moment—I was fuming. When we got back, I was going to have it out with my family. I stared into Jason's eyes and realized for the first time since I'd started this conversation that he was hurt—torn, sad. I reached over and grasped his hand. "I love you. I trust you. I—"

"Do you? Trust me?"

"You know I do, but—"

"Trust doesn't come with conditions. Either you trust me or you don't."

How did this get to be about me? This was about what was going on, right here, right now.

He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. "I can tell you this. We have a plan—it's not much, but everyone agrees it's the best option we have. Nathan believed that too."

"Not everyone," I huffed. "You can't tell me because I'm mortal, is that it?" I wrapped my arms around him, pulled him closer and then kissed the nape of his neck. "I love you." I sat back. "Promise me you won't sacrifice yourself for me—I mean it, Jason. Promise me that at least."

He nodded slowly but said nothing.

"You can't, can you." And suddenly it hit me. "You can't tell me because I will be the first to fall, or be taken, and when that happens—they'll know!"

His eyes told me I'd hit the mark.

"I want you to kill me before it comes to that."

"What?" he gasped.

"And Elina. You can't let us become some kind of lab rats for their amusement."

His head sank until his forehead was resting on the rim of the steering wheel.

I leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I know what I'm asking, but—"

"No, you have no idea, or you wouldn't ask." He glanced over at me.

"I get it—I'm human—weak—heck, I'll probably never even see it coming, but you will. You can stop them from taking me if that's what they intend to do."

He sat up straight—well a least as straight as he could in the tight confines of the car. "And I did that to you. If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't be this vulnerable—it's all on me." He took my hands in his. "Trust that what we're doing is the best thing for everyone, including the two of us and Elina too."

"But—"

"Trust us—trust me." He cupped my cheeks between his hands and pulled my lips to his and then kissed me.

Suddenly, there was a loud Snap! A huge oak hit the ground with a thunderous jolt just inches from the front of the car.

### Chapter 19

Jason had the car started before the echo from the fallen tree returned. Dust and fallen leaves swirled around us as he slammed the shifter into reverse and stomped on the gas. The wheels spun, but when they caught, we were thrown toward the dash. We exchanged a panicked glance as Jason looked over his shoulder. There was another, Crack! We rammed into another tree as it hit the ground behind us. I bounced off the back of the metal seat pan. We were trapped—

"Lab rats," I muttered, grabbing my left shoulder. It throbbed from the impact.

Jason looked out his side window, ground the car into first gear, but it didn't move. The clutch was engaged—wheels spinning, but the car didn't move.

"The bumper must be pinned!"

I braced myself as he slammed it into reverse, then forward, then reverse again and again. Finally, when he slammed it into first gear, the bumper tore loose and we vaulted off the ridge, plunging headlong down the steep incline.

Neither of us had on seatbelts—at least Jason had the steering wheel to hold onto. I grabbed the handhold on the dash, but the old, brittle plastic crumbled in my hand. The car pitched violently to the right. I fell back against my door and it opened, but before I was ejected, the door struck a tree and catapulted me onto Jason. He grabbed me around the waist and held me against his chest, maneuvering between the trees with his other hand. At this point, our supplies were flying everywhere.

Suddenly, we hit a flat crossroad that had Jason not been holding me, I'm sure would have thrown me through the windshield. Dirt and debris slid up the hood and over the roof like a tidal wave. He turned a sharp left to try and line up on the crossroad, but the tire dug into the soft ground and the car rolled over. Once. Twice. On the third roll, a welded seam in the modified, roof split open and sprayed us with dirt, but the next time, the car stopped, teetering on the two right wheels and then dropped back on all fours. Jason had never taken his foot off the accelerator and the screaming engine and spinning wheels threw up a rooster tail of dirt. The tires caught traction and we lunged forward, down our original path and then with a jolt, in a shower of sparks, back onto the main road. Jason veered sharply to the right, the tires squealed as we slid across the road, but they grabbed on the shoulder and we shot down the road toward the convenience store.

The car was full of dust and smelled like it was on fire. Jason set me back on my seat. I rolled down the window to clear the dust.

"Better buckle up," Jason said.

I slapped his shoulder, buckled his seat belt around him and then buckled mine. "Better?"

"What just happened?" he said.

"I don't know. Why'd they let us go?"

"Exactly. Even that human biker gang would have had us back there."

"Maybe this is more about _us_ than we realized. Even so, with all their special powers, we were easy prey."

"A test," Jason suggested.

"As in they don't know what we are?"

"It would explain a lot, like back at the mansion with Hollingsworth—why he didn't do anything. Like we said, maybe just an observer."

"If he was, then they know you're strong, more than human strong."

"We've got to tell the others," Jason said.

"How?"

"Plan B. Hold on!" Jason jerked the wheel to the left and the rear jumped out from behind us in a cloud of white tire smoke. He downshifted and we headed in the opposite direction.

"Impressive," I said in an attempt at levity.

Jason smiled. "Video games. And if you remember, nothing compared to our high dive with the Jeep."

That time it was me with the super strength. Clutching Jason in one arm as I leaped from the Jeep at just the right moment, the apex, and grabbed the crane before the Jeep careened into the pitch, black quarry below with the motorcycle gang right behind it. Jason was magnificent—the courage—the faith. He trusted me with his life. That's what he wanted from me now.

### * * *

We'd put five miles behind us and in that distance, Jason had slowed twice, but each time there had been a huge tree laying across a small road or path that led back up into the mountains.

"Something's burning," I said. I looked in the back and several of our plastic grocery bags were laying on the floor. One of them was smoking. "The bags are melting."

"We must have lost oil when we rolled," Jason said. "You sure you're okay?"

I rubbed my shoulder and then the back of my head. "I think I hit my head on the roof." I looked at my hand. "No blood, though."

"Can you see straight?"

I stared out the windshield. "Kind of."

"Maybe a concussion." He looked over. "What about your arm?"

"Just a bruise, it'll be fine." I took my hand away.

"I'm sorry, I did the best I could."

"I still don't know how you managed all that, incredible." Suddenly one of the bags in the back burst into flames. I pulled my sweatshirt out from under me and started beating the flames until they went out, but the car smelled awful. As I turned back to sit down, Jason slowed and pulled off at a dilapidated, old gas station. The gas pumps were long gone. He pulled up out front and shut off the engine.

"Hope it'll start again."

We both climbed out of the smoking car into the fresh air. It was late afternoon, and the sun would soon set. We didn't have much time.

"Wait here," Jason said. He walked around the corner of the open garage bay and disappeared behind a car. A man came out to meet him.

"Uh, pardon me, sir," Jason said.

"Hey there young fella, what can I do for ya."

"Well, I'm kind of in a pinch. Pregnant wife is out in the car, and the engine's low on oil—getting real hot. I'm tapped out. I was wondering if maybe you had some used oil I could put in it? Probably only needs a quart or so."

"Let's have a look-see."

Jason and a thin man in grease-stained clothes came around the corner. I could tell by his expression, the Volksrod was not what he expected.

"Ma'am." He tipped his greasy baseball cap toward me, wiped his hands on the rag tucked under his belt, and then tapped the rear deck lid. "Yep, she's hot as a pistol."

Jason looked up at me, nodded, and made a shooting motion toward me with both his hands.

The mechanic used his rag as insulation and popped the rear deck lid open. You could feel the heat radiating from the engine compartment. He waved off the smoke with the rag and then used it again to pull out the dipstick. "Yep, dry as a bone. Be right back."

When he was out of sight, Jason pointed at me again and said. "Hot as a pistol."

I smirked and then stuck out my tongue just as the guy came around the corner. He had two gold, cardboard cans with metal lids and some kind of spout that had what looked like a knife blade on one end. He set the cans on the ground, and then stabbed the spout into the top of one of the cans.

"Sir, I just wanted some used oil, I don't have a dime on me," Jason clarified.

The mechanic nodded. "Stuff been sitting on the back shelf for as long as I owned the place. Ain't nobody gonna want to use it in one of those fancy new fangled cars anyways."

"That's so nice of you. Thank you," I said as I joined them at the back of the car.

He emptied one can and then poured in part of the other. He checked the dipstick and then stuck it back into the engine. "Right on the mark." He smiled. "Why don't you give it a try?"

Jason got in and turned the key. The engine turned over slowly but didn't start. The mechanic fiddled around with the carburetor, but it still wouldn't start.

"Did I fry it?" Jason asked as he rejoined us.

"Nah, I don't think so. These old VW engines are pretty stout. Probably just vapor lock."

"Vapor lock?" I questioned.

"Well, ma'am, when the engine gets hot like this, the heat boils the gasoline out of the carburetor. No gas, no start. Just needs to cool off."

"How long will it take?" I asked, glancing up at the dwindling light.

He scratched his head. "Sun's going down, it'll cool off—I'd say no more than an hour or so. Might give it two just to be sure. I was getting ready to close up shop, but I'll stay until we can get you on your way. Wouldn't feel right leaving you out here all alone."

Jason and I exchanged a glance, recognizing the danger he would be in.

"No," Jason said. "You go on and lock up, we'll be fine. No need to put you out any more than we already have."

"Well, that's mighty kind of you. It's bowling night and I'd kinda hate to miss it."

"Well there you go," Jason said.

"Sure, you go on ahead," I added, "we'll be fine."

"Tell ya what, come with me."

We followed him into what was probably supposed to be a front office. It was cluttered with old parts from all kinds of equipment. In the rafters, fan belts hung haphazardly from a row of nails. He pulled a key ring off the wall, and spun it until one of the keys came free of the ring. He handed the key to Jason.

"You kids stay in here while your car cools off. I'll close up the garage bay, then when you leave, just lock the front door and slip the key in through the mail slot."

"That's awfully kind of you, but—"

"Nope, won't have it any other way." He cleared off a cushion and offered it for me to sit.

"Thank you." I sat on the faded, olive colored cushion.

"Pleasure, ma'am." He turned to Jason. "You take care of that pretty lady of yours now." He headed off into the shop and a few moments later, the overhead door came rolling down and the latch clicked into place. An engine started and seconds later an old rusty pickup pulled up out front.

Jason opened the office door.

"Just remember to lock up," he called through the open, side window.

"Will do, and thanks again."

"There's a can of starting fluid on the shelf if you have any trouble getting it to fire. It's a yellow can. Do you see it?"

Jason looked back inside as I pointed to the yellow can.

"Yes sir, I see it."

"Okay then." He gunned the engine to keep if from dying.

"Good luck bowling."

He waved and drove off with a faint trail of blue smoke.

"That was unexpected," Jason said.

"Not really, people down here are kind, genuinely kind."

The next fifteen minutes seemed like an eternity. Jason checked the engine, but it was still too hot to touch. When he came back to the door, he had this look on his face like this might be it. I knew the feeling, the little car was like a beacon signaling, here we are, stranded, alone and helpless.

"You want to give me a hand?" Jason asked.

"Sure." I hopped up.

"Follow me." We walked through the shop to the empty bay. Jason raised the far garage door about halfway. I followed him out to the car. "You steer."

"Got it." I hopped in behind the wheel and Jason pushed us back into the garage. Once we were clear, he pulled the door back down. As I climbed out, Jason drug a huge, old electric fan around behind the car, aimed it at the engine and then turned it on.

"That should speed things up a little."

We headed back into the office. Turned out, the _cushion_ I was sitting on was one end of a sofa.

"Let's clean this place up," I said. "It's the least we can do."

"Nesting?" Jason teased.

With the two of us, it only took half an hour to get the place into reasonable order. Parts sorted by size, since we really didn't know exactly what they were for, papers piled neatly on the desk behind the counter and the fan belts that were strewn around the room back up on their respective nails, according to size. The entire sofa was even cleared off. We glanced down at it and then at one another. I stepped into Jason's open arms.

He held me tightly against his chest. "I'm sorry about earlier, I know you're afraid." He smoothed my hair back and kissed the top of my forehead.

I looked up into his beautiful, chocolate eyes and saw determination, strength, love, and because I knew him so well, fear. I knew the fear was not for himself, but for me—for my family. _I_ was afraid for him. The last ray of sunshine flickered through the tree limbs across the road and disappeared. I clung to him as he started to step back. "I'm afraid," I confessed.

"I know." He eased me back just a little and then leaned down and kissed me. Despite all the unforeseen danger that lie ahead, it was a beautiful, tender kiss. "Would you feel better with some light?"

"I don't think we should turn on the lights—you know, kind of a _hey, here we are_."

"Sure, but a little light won't hurt." He grabbed an old metal ashtray off the counter, poured a little motor oil in it and then tied a piece of an old shop rag to a metal washer and set it in the middle of the ashtray.

While he was doing all that, I stepped back, pulled off my sweatshirt and spread it out on the sofa.

Jason lit his makeshift oil lamp and then turned toward me. A smile filled his face. "You're so beautiful." He stepped toward me but hesitated and then peeled his shirt off over his head. We stepped into one another's arms and kissed. "I have to be the luckiest guy in the entire world."

"Jason, I'm sorry—"

"No." He kissed me again. "I mean it. Be damned with what lies ahead, it doesn't matter, knowing you, loving you, being married to you, means everything."

"I was going to say, if everything that's happened was just so I could be human again—human with you in every way possible, it was worth it."

He slid his hand softly to the small of my back and leaned into me. "I love you." He kissed my neck and gently laid me on my sweatshirt. The next hour flew past.

### * * *

I was lying across Jason's chest, chin on my crossed arms, staring into the flickering light in a blissful state of twilight.

Jason scooted up so he could rest his head on the arm of the sofa. "Like I said, 'luckiest guy in the whole world'. What are you thinking?"

"How'd you learn to do that?"

"The lamp? Dad taught me."

I turned to look at him.

"What made you ask that?" he said before I could say anything about what I'd done to his father.

I let it go. "You're good at starting fires." I grinned.

"You're not so bad yourself." He suddenly reached down and slid me up his chest into another beautifully, sweet kiss. "I love you, forever."

How I wish that could be, but we both knew we were about to end. The only question was how. For his sake, I hoped Jason wouldn't have to kill me, and truthfully, I didn't think he really could do it anyway, which in the end, would probably only make it worse on both of us—all three of us. I tried, but I couldn't keep from crying.

Jason hugged me tighter. "Don't cry, I'll protect you."

I looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. I knew he meant it with all his heart, but it was impossible. I'm not sure how long he let me cry—longer than he should have for sure, but he finally had to ease me up. He cuddled my cheeks between his hands, kissed me and then sat up, rolling me to the side on his lap. His gaze washed over me as if he was saving the image—I know his was imprinted on my heart. "We should get started." He moved to get up.

"No, don't leave me."

He pulled me up to my feet. Once we were dressed, we stood next to the fading flame of the oil lamp. It would soon be gone, leaving only an odd jumble of random pieces—we would soon be gone.

Jason led me out into the dark garage toward the hum of the electric fan. The engine had cooled down considerably, but despite his efforts, it still wouldn't start. After one more try, he weaved his way through the dark, back to the office, returning with the yellow can of starting fluid. He pulled off the air cleaner and tossed it aside—we wouldn't be needing it anyway.

"I'll give it a few squirts and then give it another try. If it doesn't fire, you give it a few more—but keep your head back, it could backfire and set your hair on fire," he warned.

"Funny." I stuck my tongue out at him. "I think I've had enough fire for one night."

"Really." He sat back, stroking his chin, with a devilish grin on his face.

I slapped his arm with a shop rag. "Go try it again."

"Yes, ma'am."

He was right, and it backfired several times, once with flames, before it finally started. It ran rough, and blue smoke was pouring out of the exhaust, but it was running. Jason opened the garage door. I climbed in and eased the car out onto the gravel strip in front of the garage. Jason pulled the door down, locked it and then came out through the office. He lingered in the doorway for a moment. A smile briefly lit up his face but vanished all too soon. He locked the door, slipped the key back inside, and then raced down to the car and opened the driver's door.

"Where too?" I asked.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I feel like driving."

"Okay." He slammed the door and then ran around and got in the passenger's side. "Lights work?"

I fumbled around for the knob. The lights lit up the cloud of blue smoke that enveloped us. "Yep."

"Okay, the way we were headed. About ten miles—"

"You think it'll make ten miles?"

"It better. There's a road on the left, turn there. Hopefully, the next one after that will be clear. That's the road," He made quote signs in the air with his fingers, "we want."

"Got it." I eased it into gear and pulled out of the cloud of blue smoke onto the main road. We were like an Atlas booster rocket, nobody—not even a human, was going to miss us. After a few miles, there didn't seem to be as much smoke in the rearview mirror, but the engine was getting hotter and I had to press the accelerator to the floor to maintain speed. The vibration in the steering wheel was getting worse by the minute—probably a bent front wheel. This might be closer than we thought. Despite everything, tonight was beautiful—maybe because of everything. "I love you." I glanced over—Jason was asleep.

It would have been nice to hear him say he loved me one more time, but I knew he did. I would fight if I could—fight hard, but I could die now, knowing we were in a good place again—the place we'd always belonged. Hopefully, it would come swiftly and Jason would never know what happened. I turned left down a one lane road that led into a dark, narrow valley.

### Chapter 20

I slowed after about a mile, flipped on the high beams—only one worked, and looked through tear filled eyes for the dirt road that led up into the mountains. With my attention on the side of the road, I didn't see the tree lying across the road until I was almost on it. I slammed on the brakes. Jason slid halfway under the dash.

"What the—" He pushed back up into the seat instantly. "Backup, backup he ordered when he saw the tree.

There were no backup lights and before I knew what happened, I crashed into another tree. The engine almost died, but I managed to flutter the pedal and keep it running.

"Switch," Jason said.

I knew he would do a better job behind the wheel, but the idea of exiting the car frightened me. We'd be exposed, vulnerable. Instead, I squeezed between the seats and the low roof into the back of the car. The floor was hot, but Jason slid over onto the driver's seat quickly, and I didn't waste any time squeezing back up onto the passenger's seat. He waited until my seatbelt locked before he hit the gas and started up the hill.

This time, the little car had great difficulty climbing the steep incline. Jason downshifted into second gear—our progress not much faster than a slow jog. Behind us, the engine wheezed and coughed with a high-pitched metal screech. Even with only headlights for illumination, I could tell this path was much rockier. Suddenly, a huge boulder, bigger than the car, came careening out of the darkness straight toward us. Jason swerved left—the only option—to miss it.

We continued along the ridge for a short distance when another boulder came crashing down the mountainside. We couldn't see it, but we could hear it. It crashed into a huge tree in front of us, blocking our path. I only caught a glimpse of Jason's face as he turned around to backup, but it was strained, etched with determination. I'm certain mine was filled with fear. Here? Now? I wondered.

Jason pushed it into first gear and turned up the path the boulder left in its wake. It was so steep, he had to stay in first gear. "We're being manipulated."

"Lab rats," I uttered and put my hand on top of his and the shifter.

"Hang on!" Jason yelled. A huge tree trunk slammed into my side of the car like a giant lance, just behind me. It penetrated halfway into the back of the car, peeling part of the roof back like a tin can. The trunk stopped sliding, but the roots of the tree, now tangled in the jagged metal, continued upward, twisting and lifting the car. Jason wrapped his arms around me as we rolled over. The tree slammed to the ground, tore free of the car and slid down the trail of rubble.

Jason kicked the rest of the roof off the car while I tried to unlatch my seatbelt.

"I'm stuck!"

He reached down and with one mighty tug, ripped the belt out of the floor mount. I grabbed his hand and he pulled me up and out of the car. Before my feet could hit the ground, I was in his arms and we were racing along the ridge. Behind us, what was left of the car caught fire. That was a good thing, it would attract attention—human attention and they would come. With luck, whoever was toying with us would retreat to avoid contact. Jason hit the ground, protecting me with his arms, as a basketball sized rock shattered the trunk of a tree right next to us. We were up and he was running again.

We almost toppled over as Jason suddenly turned just as a huge boulder fell from the night sky. It would have crushed us. Jason turned again, crested the ridge and started down into the valley.

"I don't like this," he said. "They're picking the place."

I looked back at the silhouette of the ridge against the night sky, but there was no sign of a fire. I tightened my grip around Jason's neck and managed to kiss his cheek. "I love you."

His quick glance was filled with resolve, not defeat. He tried to turn left twice, but each time a chunk of rock came hurling out of nowhere. Suddenly, we were clear of the trees and Jason's constant zigzagging turned into more of a smooth glide. I kissed him again. As we approached what looked like the crest of the field, another huge boulder came crashing out of the night sky. It hit the ground with such force, the bottom of it shattered into baseball sized pieces. We came to a stop a few feet from the boulder. All around us, the night was filled with silence.

Jason knelt and set me down next to him. He was breathing hard, but not gasping. At least he still had his strength. Elina moved as I rested my hand on her. "The Faulkners?"

"I think we're on our own." He continued to scan our surroundings.

"They wouldn't desert us," I argued.

"No, they wouldn't."

"You don't think—"

"I don't know, but—come on." He helped me along until we were at the base of the huge bolder.

This was it, the time, the only chance. I looked around me, but all the pieces of rock were smooth, nothing sharp or jagged that could be used to cut. I lay my head back against the boulder and held out a grapefruit sized rock toward Jason. "It's time."

"What?" He looked at me in astonishment, took the rock, and tossed it gently aside. "Not yet."

"But—"

He hushed me with a finger to his lips. After all this time, I thought he knew better. There would be no battle—no give and take and inevitably, no time. He had to know that. Ten minutes or an eternity passed without a sound, not even a cricket.

I scooted closer to Jason and he put his arm around me. "Something's wrong," I whispered. "All the effort to get us here and—nothing."

"Maybe we weren't supposed to make it this far."

"We surprised them." I slid my arm under him, wrapping it around his waist. "You're incredible." I eased back, turned my head away from him, and in a loud voice said, "If you don't stay back, I'll turn him loose on you."

Jason looked stunned.

"I mean it," I continued, "he will tear you apart and let me burn you."

'What are you doing?' Jason silently mouthed.

"If any of you survive, imagine the humiliation—defeated by a human." I glanced up at Jason and silently mouthed, 'wait for it.'

"Humans cannot defeat us. We are the power in this world," came a young—in human terms—voice from across the field.

Jason grasped a few strands of my hair and silently mouthed, 'Female?'

I nodded, although I don't know why it mattered, there was no strength difference and if indeed she was one of their scouts or guard, she no doubt had some special power.

Jason edged up the rock ever so slowly and then peered over the top for just an instant. He slid back down next to me, leaned forward and we exchanged a kiss. It was shorter than I would have liked, but I knew they could attack in an instant. Jason pulled me up next to him, toward the top of the bolder and motioned for me to look across the field with him.

In the distance, I could barely make out the silhouettes of what appeared to be cloaked figures, vampires—lots of them. Actually seeing them brought the realization that this indeed was the end. I started to cry.

"There, there, no need for tears," the young voice said in a taunting tone, but she was much closer than the silhouettes.

I locked my gaze on the origin of the sound and then sank down the face of the boulder to the ground. It was the small female—the one stories said could project pain. I stared down at Elina. Maybe I could smash her with a rock—it was brutal—but better than what the small female could do. I reached down into the rubble and picked up a softball-sized rock.

Jason took it from me and I swear I saw a glint of excitement in his eyes. He perked up as if he heard something beyond my perception and then quickly leaned down and kissed me. "I love you." He started to move away from me.

"No—" Suddenly, there was motion behind us. I gasped and pressed back against the boulder as a figure appeared. "Melanie?"

Her face was hard, filled with rage and she was wearing Nathan's military cap jacket. She glanced at us and then started forward.

"No—" I tried to warn her, but it was too late. She collapsed in agony. "Melanie!" Why would she do this to Melanie and not Jason and me? I looked at Jason. "I think they intend to capture us."

"Their second mistake," Jason seethed.

"Second?"

"They split up."

Melanie struggled to her feet and screamed. "You end here!" She collapsed again, writhing in pain.

When I looked back, Jason rolled away from me. "No!" I screamed and lunged toward him, but before I got to him, he rolled up on one knee and threw the rock he'd taken from me. His arm was a blur, I couldn't see it—the rock was just gone. I locked my arms around him.

Jason pointed. "There."

Midway across the field, the small female's hood fluttered to her shoulders and her body toppled over to the ground. The vampires that were with her took a step back. In a blur, Jason fired off another rock and another one fell. I couldn't believe what my eyes were telling me.

Melanie screamed, but not a scream of pain, a scream of vengeance and suddenly attacked. Then, at the edge of human perception, a blur of figures raced past Jason and me into the field. I cowered, covering my ears as the meadow erupted with the thunderous clash of opposing forces. It was like being in the clouds amidst a thunderstorm. This was no illusion, this was all out war.

Jason eased me up against the edge of the rock for cover and then raced into the battle.

"Jason!" I screamed as I realized what he'd done. "No!" Strength or no strength, he was no vampire, he was mortal like me. I cowered against the deafening sound.

An eerie feeling came over me—a presence as if I was no longer alone. I opened my eyes to a cloaked figure standing over me. His skin was translucent, ancient, and his crimson eyes bore down on me with an intensity beyond hatred. He said something in an old Latin dialect—something about 'leading us to our doom'. I cuddled Elina and stared back defiantly, ready for my end.

A sudden blur crashed into my would-be assailant and they tumbled to the ground. Then Jason was on top of them. I grimaced at the sudden, deafening crash. When I looked up again, Tink was standing over a headless body that lie beneath Jason. Jason looked over at me and then slowly stood, tossing a large piece of granite up and down in his hand. His victorious expression changed to concern. He let the rock fall and took a step toward me.

Tink quickly dragged the body a few feet away and then Jason was suddenly silhouetted against a purple pyre of smoke and flame.

"You're safe," Jason said, kneeling down next to me. "It's over. Are you alright?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

"Elina?"

I clutched my abdomen and nodded again. "Over?" I questioned. "How can that be?"

He held out his hand to me. "Quickly, you have to see this." When I took his hand, he pulled me up and we peered past the rock across the open field. "There!" Jason said, pointing to where the group of cloaked figures had been. "Can you see them?"

"Yes. They're running away."

Jason laughed. "Not just running away, but being pursued. And trust me, they won't get far."

The distant blur disappeared from my perception, and as it did, I shifted my gaze to the field in front of us. There was a large fire near the center that gave off a purple haze flanked by half a dozen smaller, more intense fires scattered across the field. Stands of red cow grass glowed in the flickering light giving the field the appearance of a bloody battlefield. Motion drew my attention back to the larger fire. There was a group gathered there, some talking, others milling around. I looked at Jason.

"They'll come back with the rulers," I whispered.

Jason nodded behind us. "That was one of the rulers—it's over—they are over." He leaned down and kissed me.

"Tink," I called as he started to walk past.

He stopped and saluted. "It's nice to be the victor." He snapped his arm down to his side as Hayley slid in next to him.

"Nice," she said to Jason and I, and then they ran out into the field to join the others.

"The rest of my family!"

"They're fine—they're all safe. It's over, sweetheart." He stroked my cheek. "It's over." He cupped my cheeks and pulled my lips to his.

My legs gave out, but I was in his arms before I could fall. He looked out into the field.

"You ready?"

"Ready? What happened—how—I mean, it's impossible, but—I don't see how."

"Deep breaths." He rubbed his forehead against mine. "Not such a bad plan, right?"

"Plan? You didn't tell me the plan, remember?"

"I thought you figured it out when you handed me the rock."

"The rock? I gave you the rock to kill Elina and me."

He kissed me again. "Never. There will be time for explanations, but the Faulkners—our family, are waiting." He seemed to sense I wanted to meet them by his side, so he set me on my feet. "Better?"

I took another deep breath, grasped his hand and we started out into the field toward the congregation of vampires. When we were about halfway across the field, there was a discernible, catch in the conversations. I glanced up at Jason to see if he'd noticed, but he'd already started to slow.

"Maybe this wasn't the best idea," I whispered.

"It's what they all wanted." We stopped.

When I looked up, it seemed they were all staring at us, and then it started. A blur of images flowed from the gathering toward us. As if captured by the flash of a strobe light, each one stopped for a split second before continuing on into the darkness. Some were alarmingly close, others gave us a wide berth. There were races from around the world, and then, they were all gone. Jason nodded toward the center of the field. We resumed our walk toward the purple fire that, at this range, smelled sickening sweet. We'd only gone a short distance when another image raced toward us, coming to a stop right in front of us.

"Melanie!" Her expression had softened since her appearance before the battle. "I'm glad you're safe. I'm so sorry about—"

She wagged her finger at Jason and then me. "Nathan was not your fault." She stared at Jason. "He was not your fault either, got it?" She looked past us momentarily and seemed to relax a little. "Tink informed me that I destroyed the ones who stole my love, Nathan."

"I'm glad you have that satisfaction," I offered.

"But I know it doesn't change things," Jason added.

"Thanks for saying that. You're both right of course, but did you know all of this was foretold?"

"Seriously," Jason said.

"How?" I asked. "By who?"

Melanie glanced back to the those that remained by the fire and then returned her attention to us. "Your, 'birth mother into our world', as you refer to her, knew. She had no idea when she changed you all those years ago—it was when you met her family, in particular, her sister."

"I remember her, she was—exuberant."

"Yes. Although her vision was clouded, and remained so, she had the distinct impression that you—a human you, would change vampire history. Of course, how could that be, you'd been changed?" She glanced back at the gathering. "She did not tell any of us until right before the battle." Her voice changed to a sad whisper. "I am devastated, sad, hurt, but Nathan, like the others lost tonight, will be remembered for all time as part of this historic moment. He is a hero, my hero, my love, forever."

"Stay with the Faulkners," I pleaded. "They all love you so very deeply."

She smiled. "They do, as I love them and you, both of you. I have to go now, but I'll see you soon." She looked beyond us again and then vanished.

"Foretold." Jason nodded. "Imagine that, and I thought I was in love with just your ordinary garden-variety vampire."

I slapped his arm. "I'm neither of those."

"No, you're not." He suddenly pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss.

Okay, my knees gave out, but anyone's would have. When I was about to break it off, to come up for air, he eased back, gave me another little peck on the lips and then took my hand and we resumed our walk across the field. As we approached, I noticed everyone had their backs toward us. No doubt the kiss.

"Hi," I tested.

Tink and Hayley folded back, opening the circle to us. In the middle, Benjamin was on one knee, his back to us, with an ancient looking map spread out on the ground in front of him. Elizabeth stood behind him, slightly to his left. She had her right hand on his shoulder. Across from them, opposite Jason and I, a small contingent of vampires stood at military attention. Benjamin rose at the sound of my voice and turned with open arms.

I raced into his arms and hugged him. He enthusiastically returned the embrace.

"I'm so glad you're safe," I said. "I'm so proud of you." I eased back, even though he kept hold of me, and looked to Elizabeth, Tink, Hayley and the others that were there. "Thankful and proud of all of you."

Benjamin released me into Elizabeth's arms and then turned toward the group that was with us. "This is what your bravery, your dedication, and sacrifice means to me. You have restored my family." He glanced at Elizabeth and me before continuing. "Our job is not yet complete. Until that day, you have your orders."

"Yes, sir," they repeated in unison.

"As inspirational as I believe you expected sir," the man at the end of the row said.

A slight smile turned the corner of Benjamin's mustache upward. "You have your orders," he repeated and the group was gone—just like Melanie. Benjamin turned back to us with a broad smile.

I grabbed Jason's hand and pulled him into Elizabeth's embrace. "I love you all so much. Once again, you have given me new life, Jason, Elina and I a new life. I love you."

Tink raised his arms. "One big happy family!"

I motioned toward Hayley.

"You kidding me?" Hayley said. "Of course, I can't get enough of this big oaf."

"I remember a night under the bleachers," I teased.

She smiled wryly, but Tink squirmed a little. "The bleachers were fun."

Jason's gaze sank to the ground. "Melanie?" he whispered.

"There, there young man," Benjamin said. "She has lost a great deal, no one can deny that, but she will rebound of that I have no doubt, and she has all of us for support."

"But she's not here," I said.

Elizabeth smiled. "No, but not for the reason you suspect. She wanted to do something to show her appreciation for what you have done for us, for all of us, and so she has gone ahead to do so. You will see her again." Elizabeth stepped back from Jason and I. "But now, it is time for you to go."

"Go?" I puzzled. "Go where—oh no, you are not leaving us—not even close."

Elizabeth looked confused.

"She means we want you to stay in our lives," Jason clarified.

"Is this true?" Elizabeth asked. "You have been freed from this—"

"Yes! Yes! I want you in our lives, always. You are my family—part of our family."

She glanced up at Jason who had that, I told-you-so look on his face. "By all means then, we shall do as you request."

"That's what I'm talking about," Tink shouted. "Do we get to hold the baby?"

"Yes—as long as you're careful," I added. "But what did you mean by go?"

"You need to rest, tonight has been a tremendous strain on all of us and I know you and your little Elina need your sleep."

"Of course you're right, but—"

"You will see us again, soon."

"Human _soon_ , right?" I checked.

"Yes, of course, we shall meet you at our plantation."

"Promise? Pinky swear," I pressed.

Jason hooked his pinky finger around mine to demonstrate.

"Ladies do not swear," she said, but hooked her pinky around mine with a slight grin.

I looked up at Jason. "I guess so, then."

Jason opened his arms. "Your chariot awaits." He swept me up off my feet.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and then scanned the smiling faces of my family. "I love you all. See you soon."

"Sir." Jason nodded toward Benjamin and we were off, racing across the field toward the dark outline of the woods. Before it disappeared into the night, I glanced back at the field, the field where at least one world had changed forever.

"Where to?" I asked.

"I'm afraid only as far as the camp, but there will be food and I'll build you a nice, warm fire. Hope that'll do."

"Sounds perfect, but—"

"I know, you want to know everything, but not until you do as Elizabeth asked and get some sleep. I can honestly say, it will keep until morning." With that, he accelerated through the darkness until we reached the camp some ten miles away.

Jason started the fire with no matches—just to show off I think. We sat together by the fire and ate. The warmth was soothing—too soothing and my eyelids became heavy all too soon.

"Jason," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and then kissing him.

"You need to sleep."

"No, I don't." I yawned. "I need you."

"There's still my demon."

"But not tonight." I hugged him tighter.

"No, not tonight."

We slid down onto the blanket in each other's arms. We kissed, a long passionate kiss hotter than any fire. I pulled the blanket over us.

### Chapter 21

The crisp air and sunlight flickering through the canopy of leaves woke me the following day. The sizzle of bacon made me instantly hungry. I pulled on my clothes under the blanket and then sat up and stretched. The morning wasn't as cold as I expected.

"Jason?"

"Right here," he said, stepping around the corner of our makeshift shelter holding half a carton of eggs. "Hungry, sleepyhead?"

"Starving."

"Well, snap to it beautiful, eggs are up next. Your usual?"

"Do we have cheese? I'm craving an omelet."

"Let me check." He ducked back behind the corner and emerged with a blue foil packet of sharp cheese.

"Perfect. Can I help?"

"Sure." He balanced the eggs and cheese in one hand and pulled me up. I think he was a little disappointed to find me fully dressed.

"So, how do we happen to have cheese and eggs out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"Can't take credit for this one. Melanie did the restock. Guess you two are on the same page for sure—I mean she nailed the cheese thing."

"I guess I could say unexpected, but not from Melanie. She's always been like a sister." I took the eggs from him and we walked over to the fire. There was a nice bed of coals and that didn't just happen, it took time. "What time is it anyways?" I rubbed my eyes.

He looked up toward the sun. "Maybe one o'clock, give or take."

"Seriously? I can't believe I slept that long."

"You didn't." He winked. "Sure you wouldn't prefer over easy?"

I punched him in the arm.

### * * *

Cheese oozed out as I cut into my omelet for another bite. I still enjoyed the taste of human food so much, and the fact that Jason cooked this particular meal, made it all the better.

"Everything to your liking?"

"Perfect." I stabbed a piece of Jason's omelet with my fork.

"Okay, so I know you have a million questions, so let me give it a shot. First off, despite what was or wasn't said, we always figured they had some kind of interest in you, and maybe me. The way your dad figured it, we were all in danger, and we just couldn't be sure what they wanted with the two of us. You said it yourself, it seemed like they wanted to capture us.

Nathan thought they were mostly interested in you because you had been a vampire and were now mortal again. Up until you, it has always been a one-way street, human to vampire. So, if humans aren't even supposed to know about vampires, you can imagine the threat a vampire gone human could pose. Or, another way to look at it, what if they could all go back to being human? What if some wanted to and others didn't—you see the power struggle that could exist. We had to be careful what we said—we could never be sure if they were close enough to listen in."

"So, when we were here before—with my family, you were intentionally misleading me?"

"No, it wasn't like that—we just had to be careful not to tip them off that you and I were a one-time thing." He snapped off a bite of crisp bacon.

"Okay, I guess that makes sense, kinda keeping them guessing, but what about the plan?"

"Right. Well, first off, we weren't supposed to get separated—"

"Guess that was my fault."

"Nah, you were looking after our little girl. Besides, it worked out almost perfect anyway. A lot closer than I would have liked, though. You were never supposed to be in the 'direct line of fire' as your dad put it—we both agreed on that, but well, for awhile there, they were pulling all the strings."

"The _lab rats_ part." I stabbed my last piece of omelet.

"Exactly." He let out a sigh. "Honestly, though, I was really afraid we were goners back there. I didn't think I was going to be able to protect you, plus I had to be careful not to reveal all my abilities—I would have, had it come to that."

I lay my head on his shoulder. "You were amazing."

"Your family was never really all that far away as it turned out. Your dad was staying just off their radar, and as luck would have it, they forced us to the exact place we'd wanted to face them all along."

"I get it, but I still don't see a plan. It seems like all you were doing is picking the place to be destroyed?"

"It could have gone that way—we all knew it—I know I did." He shook his head. "But not you, I couldn't let that happen." He set me up straight and stared intensely into my eyes. "I was the plan."

"You?"

"I told you it wasn't much, but it was all we could come up with. Your dad said, in a battle, the element of surprise can be an incredible advantage, and well, measly, inconsequential human me, was the surprise."

"Elizabeth went along with that?"

He shrugged. "It took some convincing, but she came around—I think."

"I get the inconsequential human thing—you are not that by the way, but how—how did you know you could throw like that?"

"Okay, so you know I messed up leaving you and school and all, but after that, I went looking for your family—for help. I'm not really sure if any of this other stuff was going on at that point or not. Anyway, I didn't really find them as much as they found me.

Your dad was great, took all kinds of notes, asked questions and was doing his best to help me—no wait, I have to tell you something first."

"Okay." Not sure I liked the sound of this.

"Your dad was pissed—I mean I thought he was going to take my head off when I first showed up alone. And Elizabeth—well she isn't always so refined. Needless to say, they were very disappointed in me until they saw first hand what I was dealing with."

"You wouldn't have hurt me."

"I—"

"Ah, ah, ah, we are not going there." I gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Okay, so if I'm getting this, then you showed them, that you could throw a football fifty yards—on a rope?"

"Not exactly. Sure, I showed them I could throw, and well, Tink turned it into a contest. I don't remember which river it was, but we got into a rock skipping contest."

"That must have been pretty amazing."

Jason laughed. "Yeah, we're both really competitive—well you know. Anyways, after a few throws, the rocks went so far Tink couldn't even see them, so we switched to how deep our rock could penetrate the trunk of a tree. That didn't last too long either, we were making a huge mess as we splintered tree after tree. I didn't realize it at the time, but Nathan had been watching us very intensely." Jason twisted his paper plate and tossed it into the fire. He put his arm around me. "It was Nathan really; he's the one who came up with the idea."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a couple of days later that Nathan suggested we see who could throw the fastest. Tink and I had no idea what he was up to, but a competition, we were both all in. By then, we were somewhere up in the mountains—not too far from here I think. Anyway, Nathan found this nice rock face, had us back off a quarter of a mile and—"

"Whoa! You can throw a rock a quarter of a mile?"

"That's not the point. It was a speed contest. Tink was faster at first and he started to tease me—it was just in fun, but—well, you know, that got me mad and then, with the anger, I could beat him."

"I'd say impossible, but I saw it with my own eyes. So then what?"

"Nathan went to your dad with the idea—the formulation of a plan. They had Tink hold a target on a stick to see if he could move it before my rock hit it. It took awhile—not long really, but finally, Tink couldn't move the target out of the way fast enough. Once we got to that point, it was just about power and accuracy. I progressed to larger rocks and granite targets. I was finally able to show your dad that I could shatter the granite seven out of ten attempts. He figured in actual battle conditions, when I was juiced up on adrenalin—not his words—I would probably be near one hundred percent. So, the plan just kind of grew out of Nathan's idea."

"I am blown away." I kissed him—I needed a moment to process. This wasn't the first time he'd been there for me or my family. I wrapped my arms around his neck and really kissed him.

"Whoa, whoa tiger," he said, easing me back, "what was that for?"

"For finding me when I was lost—for careening off a cliff to save my family—for draining your own blood to rescue me—for helping us rebuild our lives—for always being there for me, for my family."

"I wish this one had a happier ending." His entire body slumped.

"Nathan." A sudden feeling of sadness overwhelmed me. He was always there, lurking in the shadows to protect us—to protect Melanie. He was unyielding, determined, and despite his composed exterior, fun, happy and the love of Melanie's existence. There could never be another Nathan.

Jason's chest rose and sank with a ragged breath—the excitement of the plan, gone.

I rested my head on his shoulder. "You can tell me about it if you think it will help, but—"

He nodded. "You should know, like your family. I hope you can forgive me." He kissed the top of my head. "We were at the rock face Nathan found. In our eagerness, we didn't realize that it was located in the back of a narrow ravine. Tink and I were so focused on the competition, we were clueless as to what was going on behind us. Then, all of a sudden—"

"Nathan appeared out of nowhere to warn you."

"You already know then."

"No, but it's what he did. He was always vigilant. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Go on."

"It's like you said, he just appeared in front of us and told us to run—for Tink to get me to safety. Then he charged down the narrow ravine. The look in his eyes—he knew what was going to happen.

By the time Tink got me to the top, the rest of the Faulkners arrived and they went after him." Jason shook his head, paused for a moment before he lifted my face to his and gave me the sweetest kiss ever. "I will never forget the look in Melanie's eyes." He sighed. "I failed him—Nathan, Melanie, all of them. They have been gracious, but I ran." He raised his voice. "We should have fought together, but I ran like a scared little kid," he finished in a whisper.

I let him have a moment before I spoke. "I will miss him, and I will hurt for Melanie as long as I live, but you did not fail him or us. There's something you might not realize about my family, in particular, the men."

"They were soldiers, I know that."

"But what you're forgetting is what soldiers are—what they do. Sacrifice—self-sacrifice is part of the fiber of who they are—to serve and protect, no matter what. I have no doubt Nathan—Tink or Benjamin for that matter, would do the exact same thing again given the gravity of the situation."

Jason glanced up and when he did, a tear found it's way down his cheek.

"It's like Melanie said, his sacrifice changed history. He will be remembered forever as the brave, selfless soldier he was, and I know, one day, Melanie will find comfort in that."

Jason nodded.

I pulled his lips to mine and kissed him. "We owe Nathan our lives, our respect, and our eternal gratitude. Thank you for telling me. I know it was difficult, but—"

"No, it wasn't—I can talk to you like that."

"Always. Remember that." I stood. "So, where do we go from here?"

Jason brushed back another tear, poured a bucket of water on the flickering embers and then stood next to me. "Next stop, the mansion."

### * * *

The chandelier at the front of the house was lit when we arrived at the edge of the clearing that evening. The Rover was even still parked out front. Jason hesitated.

"I think it's on a timer," I said. "At least that's what Cathy thought.

He set me on my feet. "I should check it out first, just to be safe."

"I really have to go." I glanced around our surroundings. "I don't relish the idea of having to go in the woods again."

"Okay, I guess." Jason swept me up in his arms again but slowed as we approached the house.

"Jason," I pleaded when we reached the driveway. "Please."

Jason eased me down, not taking his eyes off the front door. "I don't like—"

The front door suddenly opened. "Welcome—"

Jason was on top of Hollingsworth before he could complete his greeting. I raced to the top of the steps. It appeared from the swirling blur that Hollingsworth's actions were defensive.

"Stop! Stop! Jason, stop!"

Jason recoiled back to a protective stance in front of me. "He's one of them," Jason said.

Hollingsworth stood and brushed himself off.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"Where else would I be, ma'am?"

"That's not an answer," Jason shot back. "You were with them, admit it."

Hollingsworth slowly nodded.

"Wait!" I grabbed Jason's shoulder to keep him from attacking again.

"Is there a _but_ in there?" I ventured.

"I was originally sent to watch you, but after seeing you, your devotion to this young man, I could not possibly see how you were a threat to my kind."

"You're not supposed to think, just take orders," Jason said.

Again, Hollingsworth nodded. "Allow me?" He held out his gloved hands and motioned toward his breast coat pocket.

"Slowly," Jason warned.

Hollingsworth carefully withdrew an object from his pocket.

"My cell phone?" I puzzled.

"Yes, ma'am. Once I'd made up my mind, I sent the staff to tell the others that you were leaving the following morning and I would track you. I knew for certain they could not make contact before you would supposedly be gone. That left you safe, in the last place they would ever look. Later, I used your cell phone to mislead them on your whereabouts and intentions as-well-as your abilities."

"That's why they were so careful then," Jason surmised.

"I hope it helped, it was all I could do." He looked away. "Oh, I'm so sorry ma'am."

Crap, I wet myself. I looked up a Jason. "No fighting." And then raced upstairs to the bathroom. It was a surprise, but nice, to find fresh towels and toiletries set out. I flipped on the water as Jason reached the top of the stairs.

"You okay?"

"Totally humiliated," I said to the closed door.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, kind of a pregnant thing and besides, you were just trying to protect me."

"You'll be okay?"

"Sure, just need a shower."

"Need any help with that?"

"Not this time. Don't hurt Hollingsworth, okay? Promise?"

"Okay. I actually think we might owe him—like he's one of the good guys. We'll be downstairs."

### * * *

After days without a shower, I lingered longer than I anticipated. The hot water cascading over my body was wonderful, rejuvenating, but I finally shut off the water and grabbed a towel. As I dried off, I realized I didn't have any fresh clothes. I wrapped the towel around my body and headed for the bedroom hoping my things were still there.

I wasn't prepared for what greeted me when I opened the bedroom door. My suitcase was in front of the open closet where my clothes were hung, neatly sorted, but the bed is what surprised me. There were two mid-1800's, southern dresses laid out carefully across the bed. They both looked to be my size. I have to admit it felt a little odd, but I tried them both on—they fit perfectly, as in Melanie was likely responsible. I finally chose the linen, pastel yellow dress because the empire waist sat right on top of my baby bump. I had difficulty fastening my bra, but besides the straps showing, it was totally too tight at this point in the pregnancy anyway. A shopping spree was definitely on tap in the near future. None of my shoes went with the dress, so I went without. I did a few turns from side-to-side in front of the full-length mirror and then a complete spin. The dress was beautiful in an earthy, simple way and it reminded me a little of my homecoming gown. I brushed my hair and then headed for the door, ready to surprise Jason.

As I approached the bottom of the staircase, Jason stepped out from around the corner. He offered me his white-gloved left hand. I accepted and he helped me down the last two steps. Besides the white gloves, he was adorned in a blue, period correct, dinner jacket and black pants. He kissed the back of my hand.

"Shall we?" he said, offering me his arm.

I slipped my hand in the crook of his arm and he led me down the hallway. "Haven't we done this before?" I reminisced.

"I believe we have at that," he said trying to sound very proper. "A second chance, without the unwanted drama."

"Not funny." I thought for a second. "Oh, and we have company this time."

His gaze drifted from my face to Elina. "Yes, indeed we do."

"What about—"

"Right this way," Hollingsworth said with a bow as we entered the dining room. "I presume you wish to sit close to one another," he added as Jason led me past the head of the table.

"You presume correctly, sir," Jason replied.

Hollingsworth followed us to the far end of the table, closest to the fireplace, held my chair for me and then helped me scoot in. Jason stepped around the end of the table and Hollingsworth pulled out his chair. With great flare, Jason flipped his coattails back and sat.

"Very good, sir. Our home made chicken noodle soup will be out shortly." He bowed. "Enjoy." He poked at the fire with an iron until the flames settled down to a soft amber glow and then he walked gracefully out of the room.

Jason pulled off his gloves and set them on the table next to his place setting.

He looked at me with a serious expression, smiled, and then laughed. "How'd I do?"

"Perfect."

"Not to be a copycat, but you blow me away. Look at you. Oh my God, you're so beautiful I can't believe it. His gaze drifted down from my face. "Pregnancy suits you."

He'd obviously noticed I'd filled out considerably. "Jason, you're staring."

"My apologies, ma'am," he said, bugged out his eyes and then rocked back in his chair with a broad smile. "Oh," He turned toward the entrance to the dining room. "Do you smell that?"

Hollingsworth rounded the corner with a tray containing two bowls of soup and a basket of fresh bread. He placed a bowl in front of each of us, and then set the bread basket between us. He bowed and departed.

I was starving and dug in as did Jason. The soup was delicious. After a few bites, I stuck my leg out toward the fire, exposing my bare foot.

Jason laughed. "Now that's perfect."

"Barefoot and pregnant." I shrugged and slurped down another spoonful of soup.

Jason looked toward the door as though he were checking Hollingsworth's whereabouts and then picked up his bowl and held it to his mouth. "Ahhh," he sighed as he set the bowl down. "That was great." He ripped off a piece of bread and started eating. "Make sure you leave room for the main course," he reminded me.

"You think I'm fat?" I picked up one of his gloves and tossed it at him.

"No, no, not at all. I just want you to enjoy everything."

"Then you think I'm a glutton."

"You did a pretty good job on breakfast."

"Ah!" I shrieked.

Hollingsworth appeared immediately. "Something you need, ma'am?"

"Better company," I teased.

"No ma'am." He shook his head and smiled. "Perhaps something to drink? Supper will be ready shortly."

Jason snickered.

"A sweet tea, please. Jason?" I asked.

"Water for me."

"Yes, sir." He clicked his heals and left, still smiling.

"Sweet tea?" Jason questioned.

"I don't want to get sleepy again tonight. You know, dessert and all."

Jason choked. "Ah, you slept until noon, I don't think the sleep thing should pose a problem."

"You have no idea what it's like to be pregnant."

Jason's playful expression suddenly turned inquisitive. He leaned forward on his elbows. "Tell me, I want to know everything."

And so went the topic of our dinner conversation. The roast, potatoes and sweet peas were delicious. Once Hollingsworth cleared the table, Jason and I sat back in our chairs in front of the fire and just stared into one another's eyes. There was no longer any need for playful banter.

Truth is, I hadn't taken a sip of my sweet tea, caffeine not being the best for Elina, and my eyelids started to droop. Having a baby really did take a lot of stamina. Jason slipped out of his chair, around the end of the table and then scooped me up in his arms.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me down the hallway. "You never did tell me about Hollingsworth," I mumbled.

"Tomorrow."

"Okay."

We started up the steps to the bedroom.

"What about desert?" I pouted.

"Tomorrow."

### Chapter 22

We lounged around the house the next day. The warmth of the sunroom in the morning was glorious. After lunch, we wandered outside and I told Jason about my plans to have the garden's restored. He agreed it was a great idea. As the sun began to set, Jason led me down to the riverbank. We stood hand-in-hand as the sky turned spectacular shades of crimson and gold.

"I already miss them," I whispered.

Jason wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close against his side. "I know."

"Do you think they'll be okay? I mean their entire world has changed—and poor Melanie."

"I do," Jason said. He kissed the top of my head with a reassuring squeeze. "Didn't you tell me you were considered like vegetarian vampires by the others?"

"Sure, I heard the humanitarian vampire expression used once or twice too, why?"

"Well, I don't see all vampires changing to that, but between your family and those on the West Coast of the same persuasion, I can see them striking some kind of balance that will be good for both human and vampire alike."

"You can see all that?" His vision was amazingly perfect, but not so simple to achieve.

He looked at me. "Sure. Knowing your dad—his strength and compassion, absolutely."

I looked up into his beautiful, warm, chocolate eyes that now reflected the crimson glow of the sunset. For a moment, I saw his father's eyes in the red halo around Jason's pupils and shuddered.

"You're cold," Jason said. "Do you want to head back?"

"No, not yet." I looked back at the mirror reflection in the river and soaked in the beautiful sunset and Jason's warm embrace.

Jason gently tugged at my waist.

I turned and looked up into his face to kiss him.

"We have company." He smiled.

To our right, Benjamin, Elizabeth, and Melanie had joined us, and on our left, Tink and Hayley.

"You knew?" I asked Jason.

"Of course."

I slipped out of Jason's embrace and then gave each one of my family a hug, ending with Melanie. I grasped both her hands. "Thank you for the dress and the night; they were so thoughtful as was your breakfast choice back at the camp." I let go of one of her hands and tugged the other for her to follow me back to Jason, but she resisted. "Please."

Jason held out his hand to her. "Yes, please."

She yielded and stood between Jason and I holding our hands. Then the rest of my family joined hands as well and the seven of us stood hand-in-hand and watched another human day come to an end. As the last shades of lavender turned gray, Melanie slipped back a step and joined Jason's and my hands together.

"You're not leaving?" I said, looking back at her.

"No." She walked behind us and then eased in next to Tink and Hayley.

When I looked forward again, Elizabeth and Benjamin were standing in front of us. Elizabeth stepped forward, hugged Jason and then took a moment to take in Elina. I stepped into her open arms and we hugged. She stepped back, next to Benjamin and looked up at him guardedly.

Benjamin straightened his coat before addressing Jason. "I realize that this may not need to be addressed, but just the same, given your previous choices, I want your assurance that my daughter is your number one priority." He glanced at me with a little smile.

Jason didn't respond immediately like you might expect—defensive, but took a moment to consider before he spoke. "Your concern is certainly justified. I have made some very poor choices, although, to my credit, they were made with the welfare of your daughter in mind." He cleared his voice and looked directly at my father. "I can assure you, sir, your daughter, and my daughter are the center of my world, my life, above all else." He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "I will always, and I mean always, love and protect them."

Benjamin gave Jason a slight nod of approval and then turned to me. "Isabella—Izzy is it within your heart to forgive Jason?"

"For thinking he was protecting me, yes, but not for leaving."

Benjamin stroked his mustache and then glanced down at Elizabeth.

"Child, even after everything that you've learned, you do not have it in your heart to forgive him? He loves you with a special kind of love that is so rare. Certainly—"

"Yes. I forgive you," I said to Jason. "But don't ever hurt me like that again."

Elizabeth smiled. "Pinky swear," she chortled.

Jason held out his pinky finger and I wrapped mine around his for an instant before pulling him into my arms.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I can be a little stubborn if you haven't noticed."

Jason eased back and made that familiar same motion between us. "Always."

I nodded. "Always." I folded back in next to Jason facing Elizabeth and Benjamin's smiles.

"Very well," Benjamin said, "I presume you wish to proceed."

"Absolutely." Jason glanced at me but gave no clue as to what _proceed_ meant.

Benjamin and then Elizabeth hugged me and then stepped away. Benjamin offered Elizabeth his arm and she gently grasped his forearm.

"We look forward to this evening," Benjamin said and then led Elizabeth down the riverbank toward the woods.

I looked up at Jason. "What did Dad mean by 'proceed'?"

Tink and Hayley stepped in front of us.

"Very nicely done, on all accounts," Tink said.

"I'll say," Hayley added.

They each hugged us—well Tink and Jason shook hands, and you could hardly call Hayley's embrace of Jason a hug, but the thought was there—and then they followed Benjamin and Elizabeth down the riverbank.

I couldn't help it, but tears started streaming down my cheeks when Melanie stepped in front of us, alone.

"Don't cry," she said, wiping away the tears with her thumb. She looked deep into my eyes. "What's it like?"

"The baby?" I puzzled.

"Yes, but being human as well. It's been more than a century and I long for something I don't even remember," she pouted.

"Limiting—the human part." I was sure this was to avoid talking about Nathan and I was okay with that—it seemed to be what she wanted.

"That seems odd." She cocked her head to the side. "How so?"

"Without even considering the sleep part—which by the way takes at least six to eight hours, the maintenance alone takes forever." I gasped to add emphasis.

Melanie laughed.

"Really," I continued, "bathing, brushing your teeth, makeup—forever!" I glanced up at Jason and he shook his head. "Well, I won't kiss and tell."

"Please do," Melanie teased.

"Not," Jason said.

"That sucks," Melanie replied.

Jason pointed at her. "Nailed it that time."

It must have been some kind of inside joke, but I laughed along with them just the same.

"And Elina?" Melanie asked.

"She's so incredible, her heartbeat, her movements, even her kicks a constant reminder of just how blessed I really am."

"May I?" Melanie extended her palm toward me.

"Here," I said directing her hand to where Elina was gently elbowing me. "She doesn't move as much now, there's not as much room.

Melanie's face lit up when she touched me. She gently traced around my stomach poking ever so gently here and there. Elina seemed to like it and became more active.

"Are you tickling her?"

Melanie winked, smiled and then pulled her hand away. "Well, I should be going."

"Not as in leaving?" I confirmed.

She looked up at Jason. "Until tonight." She followed Tink and Hayley toward the woods.

Jason and I stood quietly for a few moments watching the moonlight sparkling on the water.

"What's going on?"

"Be patient." He kissed me, and then lifted me up off my feet and kissed me more passionately. It was a beautiful kiss, like so many we shared, but different at the same time, although I couldn't exactly say why. With one hand, he swept my legs out from under me and I was in his arms. "Shall we?"

"You really like this ol' southern thing, don't you?"

"I do." He started a slow walk—or should I say stroll, back toward the house.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Why?"

"Well, it's simple really. In today's world, let's say when I came home from class, or work or something, I'd say something like, 'Hey, what's up?' I might add a kiss or a pat on the butt, but in your parent's day, men had more respect for women, more grace, so instead of 'hey, what's up?' I'd say something more along the lines of, good evening, sweetheart. I'd hesitate, taking in your beauty and then draw you into my arms and kiss you."

"Oh." I had no idea what else to say to that, but then added, "Maybe somewhere in the middle?"

Jason laughed. "Sure—I mean yes, ma'am."

I punched him in the shoulder. "By the way, you never said what you meant by 'proceed'."

He set me on my feet at the front door, kissed me again, cupped my cheeks and drew out another sweet kiss. My heart melted.

"I love you."

"That's not an answer."

"Yes it is, it's the answer to everything. We need to change—walk or carry?"

"Walk this time I think. Why are we changing?"

"Ah, ah, ah, a little patience." He bowed and waved me forward and then followed up the stairs.

"Looks like Hollingsworth has been busy," I said, noticing the clothes spread out neatly on the bed. "I guess this means he's in on whatever is going on."

Jason just smiled. "We better hurry." He walked over to the bed and lifted my dress off the comforter. "Do you need any help?"

"No, I managed with the other one."

The gray southern dress was trimmed in white lace around the square neckline, wrists and at the bottom hem. The material—probably hand woven, was coarse by modern standards, but it was soft to the touch, almost like velvet. Once I had the dress on, I went over to the mirror to brush my hair and put on my makeup—just a touch.

"Hey," I said as I spotted Jason in the mirror. He was slipping into a short gray jacket. I turned toward him.

"What do you think?" He tugged the straight lapels up tightly around his neck. "Oh, no, wait—your dress—you're more beautiful than even I imagined. Elizabeth will be so pleased—she made it, just for tonight."

"Jason," I warned, realizing what he was wearing. His cap jacket collar was trimmed with a navy blue band that also trimmed the epaulet on each shoulder. A similar stripe formed a point upwards, on the outer side of each sleeve. Down the front, nine brass buttons. His pants were the same gray with a thin navy stripe down each pant leg. "That's a uniform—a Confederate uniform." He was stunning, but I scowled.

He eased around the end of the bed. "Oh, you missed the necklace." He scooped up a shiny silver necklace off the bed. "May I?"

I lifted my hair off my shoulders and turned my back slightly toward him. He slipped the necklace around my neck, fastened the clasp and then lingered. His breath was searing. After a moment, his lips gently kissed the crook of my neck—one side and then the other—he wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered through another kiss, "I love you."

"It's still not an answer—even when you deliver it like that," I fumed.

Jason stepped to my side, offered me his arm and we strolled out of the room toward the stairs at the far end of the hallway. As we started to descend, the scratchy sound of an old Victrola began to play.

"It's from our wedding," Jason observed.

"Elizabeth's favorite."

"You look lovely this evening, ma'am." Hollingsworth met us at the bottom of the stairs with an exaggerated bow. "Right this way." He led Jason and me the short distance to the parlor.

The Faulkners were waiting and greeted us with smiles and hugs. Elizabeth, Melanie, even Hayley were wearing gowns similar to mine, but each unique in its own way. Benjamin and Tink were wearing almost identical uniforms as Jason—I definitely didn't like the looks of this, but before I could say anything the dancing started. Jason swept me right into the dance like he'd danced this style a thousand times. There was no point fighting it, so I enjoyed the dance along with everyone else. After two more songs, though, I started to tire.

"Melanie?"

"Yes." She was at my side in an instant.

"Will you step in for me? I need a breather."

"Jason?" she checked.

He bowed. "Absolutely."

I stepped back and they twirled off with the others. I retreated to the sofa to watch. Melanie might have been being nice, but it really did look like Jason was leading. After a few more songs, Hollingsworth set the arm in the cradle. Elizabeth and Melanie joined me on the sofa.

"You approve?" Elizabeth asked.

"The dress? Absolutely, it's beautiful, a work of art."

She smiled and looked toward where the men were gathering near the fireplace. When I looked, I realized we had been joined by four other men—I was pretty sure they were the same ones from the field that night—vampires no doubt and also in uniform. I glanced over at Elizabeth and she had this serene air about her. And Melanie, she was somewhere between somber and dazed. Beyond her, Hayley looked intense. As the men began to form a line, I started to get up, but Elizabeth's iron hand pressed my thigh back down on the sofa. She didn't hurt me, but she had an apologetic look on her face.

"You trust Jason," she whispered.

"Yes."

She smiled. "Enjoy this with him."

"Let us begin," Benjamin said. "Ladies." He nodded in our direction and the four of us stood. "Tonight is a special night, special in many ways. We celebrate victory, but more than that, we celebrate the beginning of a new era in our history, an era that was forged by sacrifice and an undeniable bond between mortal and immortal. One need not look beyond this family to recognize the significance of that bond. Jason, please step forward."

Jason stepped smartly forward and snapped to attention. Was he about to subject himself—what about me—Elina—they promised. My heart was racing, pounding in my temples.

Benjamin must have picked up on my anxiousness and glanced my way with a gentle, reassuring smile before continuing. "Jason Whitaker, you have demonstrated dedication and faithfulness to this family and an uncanny ability on the field of battle. We applaud your heroic accomplishments."

One of the men that had mysteriously joined us, stepped forward and extended his hand toward Benjamin with two small, brass buttons. "Sir."

Benjamin took them and then pinned them on the epaulets of Jason's jacket. "These signify your acceptance into Phillips' Legion. Wear them with all the pride and dignity they command."

"I shall, sir." Jason slapped his hands against his sides.

Tink stepped forward, turned sharply toward Benjamin and extended a small wooden box.

Benjamin opened the box and withdrew a medal from the scarlet, velvet lining. "It is no secret that General Lee did not indulge in honoring individual acts of valor, but that was a different time." Benjamin extended the medal for us to examine more closely. The silver and bronze medal was in the shape of a ten point star and bore the Great Seal of the Confederate States. "In 1977 The Sons of Confederate Veterans designed this medal to honor those who fought above and beyond the call of duty." He turned back toward Jason and held the medal up to read. "Inscribed on this medal are the words, Honor, Duty, Valor, and Devotion. It is with great pride I decorate you for your accomplishments on the field of battle both now, and in the past." He pinned the medal on Jason's uniform. He and Jason shook hands and then the other men stepped forward to shake Jason's hand as well. After Tink shook Jason's hand, he patted him on the back.

Melanie did a little silent clapping motion and was literally bouncing up and down.

"Thank you, gentlemen. This concludes our ceremony," Benjamin said.

The four nodded and then disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

"If I may, Sir?" Jason addressed Benjamin.

"By all means, the floor is yours."

Jason turned to face us, but before he spoke, he made a slight nod in Tink's direction. Tink left the room.

Jason smiled warmly at us, his gaze coming to rest on me. "Ladies, I am honored to become part of your history and your future. My life, my heart, my very soul belong to Izzy, but I will always be at your families disposal should any of you need me." He made a slight bow to Elizabeth, Melanie and then Hayley. "Anything, anytime, you need but ask." He glanced toward the entrance to the parlor. At the same time, it felt like Elizabeth moved closer to Melanie.

Jason smiled again, but his eyes became misty. He was struggling to hold back tears. "Isabella—Izzy, my actions are meaningless if not for you. You truly bring out the best in me." He made a motion toward the entrance and Tink slowly entered carrying a simple wooden urn.

Elizabeth put her arm around Melanie's waist. I followed her lead. I knew Melanie wouldn't break down, but it was an important gesture of compassion and support.

Jason glanced at Benjamin and then returned his attention to us—Melanie specifically. "I don't believe I can fully comprehend eternity, but I do know the pain of losing someone dear to you."

Tink stepped to Jason's side.

"Nathan is the hero of the events that changed your existence. He and he alone chose to make the ultimate sacrifice." Jason's gaze sank to the floor for a moment. When he looked up, tears glistened on his cheeks. "Me—Me—Melanie," his voice broke, "you also paid the ultimate price. Not by choice, but by love and devotion to one of the bravest men I have ever known. I know, as I hope you do, Nathan's last thoughts were of you." Jason turned his head away as Tink handed Melanie Nathan's remains.

"You will live on in our hearts, friend, brother and brave comrade," Tink said.

Melanie stood frozen, holding the urn. After a few moments, she glanced toward Elizabeth and then me. We let her ease forward until she was standing inches from Jason.

"You may not know this," she whispered. "But Nathan was as warm and emotional as you are, he simply didn't display his emotions in the presence of others." She reached up and touched Jason's cheek and then placed her tear moist hand on Nathan's earn. "Thank you for this."

Jason stepped aside as she walked across the room toward the fireplace. She held Nathan close for a moment and then set his earn on the mantle. She paused as if considering before she turned back toward us. It was an awkward moment, you could see it in her eyes— Elizabeth with Benjamin, Hayley with Tink and Jason and I.

"You are part of this family," Elizabeth said.

"Absolutely," Tink added.

"I know that, but I need some time."

"Yes," Elizabeth said. "You know where to find us."

"I do." She looked toward the door.

"Don't!" I blurted out. "Promise me you'll be here for Elina."

She smiled warmly. "Of course."

"The West Coast is a good place to rediscover yourself," Hayley said.

"Perhaps." She smiled, making eye contact with each of us and then, she was gone.

I staggered, but Elizabeth steadied me and then led me over to the sofa. Jason sat down next to me.

"You okay?"

"I'll miss her so much. I wouldn't—we wouldn't be where we are without her."

He wrapped his arm around me and hugged me. "I'll miss her too."

Elizabeth, Benjamin, Tink and Hayley started to move toward the door.

"Remember, you promised to stay in our lives," I said.

Elizabeth nodded.

"Thank you for this, sir," Jason added.

"I hope it accomplished what you desired," Benjamin replied.

"Yes, it did."

"Until later then," Elizabeth said, and they were gone.

I rested my head on Jason's shoulder, looked up at the mantel and cried.

### * * *

We lingered quietly on the sofa long after everyone left. The fire had died down to just flickering embers when I asked, "Why the uniform—the ceremony? What did you hope it would accomplish?"

Jason kissed the top of my head and stroked my hair. "I wanted to be more than the _human_. I wanted to be a real part of your family."

I pulled back so that I could see his face. "But you are. No ceremony can do that."

"It did for me."

I remembered the fear I felt before the ceremony. "No hidden agreements, agendas?"

"No." He kissed me. "You look exhausted."

I patted his knee. "I'm glad you feel more a part of my family."

"Thanks. I knew you would understand." He stood, straightened his uniform and stood at attention. "What do you think?"

"Amazing."

He offered me his hand and then gently pulled me to my feet.

"Now what?" I said.

"Home."

"Sounds perfect." I eased his lips to mine and kissed him. "Elina and I should see the doctor anyway."

"Is something wrong?" His voice was filled with concern—almost panic.

"No, it's just long overdo."

"Ready for bed?" Jason said, pointing out the obvious.

I kissed him again. "Not just yet." I wrapped my arms around Jason's neck, kissed him again and then settled back on the sofa. I lay back against the arm of the sofa. "Have I won your favor, Sir?"

Jason smiled that incredible, loving, innocent smile of his. "Yes, ma'am, I believe you have."

I kissed him when he leaned over, and I pulled him down next to me. "Well?"

### Chapter 23

After breakfast, Hollingsworth was waiting with our bags at the front door. While Jason packed the Rover, I went over the plans for the garden with him. It was amazing how much of the planning he'd accomplished in such a short time—of course, he was a vampire and had twenty-four hours a day. When we returned to the Rover, Jason was just finishing up. We said our goodbyes and Jason and I headed for Boonsboro.

### * * *

"I can make it all the way," I said, stretching out a cramp in my left leg.

"I know you can suck it up, but it's just not necessary. Besides, no way am I letting my 'little lady' suffer." Jason flashed a quick smile.

"Your 'little lady'? Seriously, you have got to stop talking like that."

"Yeah, I know." He pulled out into the left lane to pass an eighteen-wheeler struggling up the incline. "It's almost like I was born in the wrong time, but I gottcha."

"You mind stopping at the next rest area?"

"Were not going to miss a one, are we?"

"Blame it on Elina." I shrugged.

"No blame," Jason said, "that's why we're doing the trip in two days." He eased out of the right lane and onto the exit ramp to the rest stop.

### * * *

Sure, I'd argued about stopping for the night, but when we pulled into the hotel, I was exhausted. We checked in, I took a nap while Jason watched T.V., and then we had dinner at the quaint restaurant connected to the hotel.

"I can't eat another bite," I said, pushing the last of my apple turnover with ice cream away.

Jason slid it over in front of him and started in on what was left. "I'd hate to see it go to waste."

"You mean my waist?"

"Nice play on words, but you know that's not what I meant."

I nodded. "Jason, would you mind if we—"

"The little mall across the street? No problem." He scooped up the last of the ice cream. "Waiter!"

The mall—more of a strip mall—was literally right across the street, so we walked. Like I'd hoped, they had a few maternity clothes. The styles weren't anything I really liked, but I was desperate at this point. No more shoestrings in the button of my pants, pushing my pants down under my stomach or going braless.

"Hey, look at this little number," Jason said, holding up a bra. "It's got a trap door." He poked his finger through the flap on the cup.

"It's for the baby to nurse. You know that, right?"

"Ah, yeah, sure." He turned two shades of red, fumbled putting it back on the rack and then quickly put his hands in his pockets.

I busted out laughing. Stepped in close, and wrapped my arms around him. "You are so totally adorable."

"Me? I don't think so; you've got adorable all sewed up." He kissed me. "We about done here? Looks like they're ready to close up."

"Yeah." I laughed. "We're about done."

We walked over to the cashier and checked out. I don't think we'd been back in our room more than five minutes before I fell asleep.

### * * *

It was dark when I stirred, but Jason was on the phone, speaking very softly. He glanced at me but didn't seem to notice I was awake.

"Mom, Mom, I know I screwed up, that's not the point. The point is, we're good now." He suddenly got up and started to pace. "I know, dropping out of college was dumb, but I had to..." He glanced my way again. "She...yes, she understands. This conversation is over." He pulled the cell phone away from his ear and punched the end button. He took a few more steps and then plopped down on the chair, dropping his head into his hands. Before I could say anything, he looked up and stared in my direction.

I was looking through just slits for eyes, but I could tell he was hurting and I felt so bad for him. What happened was as much my fault as it was his. The potion, him thinking he was changing—we still had no idea what really was going on, and he couldn't say a word. He had to just let people think what they did, even his mother. He smiled, pushed his hair back, and then tapped the screen on his phone. It lit up.

"Hey, Mom. Sorry about that, it's just—well it's complicated. I know I hurt her—I hurt her a lot and I have to live with that, but as long as she'll have me, I'm going to try and make it up to her."

He listened for awhile, maybe even smiled once.

"Baby's fine, Mom...No, I don't want to spoil the surprise, she'll tell you all about it when we get in tomorrow."

His mother seemed to have more to say this time, but it must have been tempered because Jason leaned back, extended his legs and crossed them.

"Sure, sure, but it's up to her. She gets tired pretty fast these days...I know; I know I should have taken her to a doctor...Yes, we'll make an appointment as soon as we get back. Okay, love you too. See you soon." He closed the phone and then patted it against his chest.

After a few minutes, he got up, walked over to my side of the bed and then bent down and kissed me on the cheek.

I stirred. "What was that for?"

"Go back to sleep, Mom will be fine once she sees you're okay. I love you with all my heart."

"I know."

He kissed me again. "Goodnight."

"Night."

### * * *

Day two of our trip home went smoothly. Elina wasn't as active and we were actually able to miss a few rest stops. Finally, we turned off Interstate 81. It wouldn't be long now.

"I'm sorry about last night," I said. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, it was rude."

"Nah, don't worry about it. I knew you were awake."

"Is your mom mad?"

"Not exactly the right word, more like frustrated, furious—yeah, furious I think. She can't believe she raised such an insensitive, self-centered, inconsiderate idiot."

"I'm sorry, I know that hurts. I wish there was something we could do or say, but—"

"I know, mums the word." He forced a smile. "Besides, when she sees you, she'll forget all about me."

"No, she won't. She loves you, she'd never forget you." I drew in a deep breath. "You ready for this?"

"Yeah, I think we've covered all the bases. Besides, if I can keep the Faulkner secret, mine should be a piece of cake." He glanced over as we approached the driveway. "You sure you're not too tired?"

"Nice try, but I think we all need this."

"Alright, then." He turned into the driveway.

"There they are!" Nancy came bounding down the back steps, arms stretched forward as we opened our door's. Coach was right behind her, with a smile that just warmed your heart.

"Hey Mom," Jason offered. They hugged in the midst of her tears.

"Well bless my soul," Coach said as I walked around the front of the Rover and into full view. "Little fella looks almost ready to make a break for it."

I laughed and put my hands on either side of my baby bump. "So what do you think, soccer ball or basketball?"

Coach put his arm around my shoulders. "Bigger than a football, that's for sure." He gave me a gentle squeeze. "How you doin'?"

"Great, I'm great."

"Well, I have to admit, pregnancy suits you. You have that glow as the ladies say."

"Thanks."

"Oh, my!" Nancy gasp when she saw me. "I can't believe you've been away that long." She shot an angry glare Jason's way.

"Yeah, but it was totally worth it." I slipped out of Coach's embrace and into Jason's arms.

"You must be exhausted. Come, come inside." Nancy grasped my hand, Jason let go and she led me up the back steps. Would you like something to eat? I have some homemade chicken noodle soup."

"How'd you know? I kind of have a thing for chicken noodle soup these days."

"Ah," Nancy nodded. "I remember the cravings. You really do look wonderful."

"Your son took good care of me."

She frowned—that kind of _you had to say that frown_ , but didn't reply.

We caught up on local events while Jason and I ate—they had already eaten. We avoided anything to do with Jason's sudden departure and my trip to find him. Things got awkward as we finished eating. The conversation just kind of stalled. Nancy took our soup bowls to the sink, her safe zone. The lull lingered.

"We have news," I offered.

"What kind of news?" Coach asked.

"Well, would you like to know more about your grandchild?"

"You betcha," Coach said.

Nancy wiped her hands on the dishtowel, turned and leaned back against the counter.

I glanced at Jason. "You wanna tell them, or shall I?"

"Have at it," Jason said with a smile of eagerness.

I looked at Coach, then Nancy. "Well, I'm afraid you might be a little disappointed, Coach."

"Not a chance."

"So, while we were in Georgia, we found out the baby is a girl."

"That's wonderful," Nancy said. "I have no doubt you'll make a terrific mother." It seemed intentional that she didn't say anything about Jason's potential parenting skills.

"There's more," I said. I looked at Jason. "Go ahead, it was your idea."

"So, well, obviously she's a miracle, so we wanted her name to be something special and well, we—"

"You," I corrected to make sure Nancy realized this was totally Jason's idea.

"Yeah, I guess. I liked the name Elina, so that's what we chose."

Nancy's face lit up immediately.

"That's a mighty fine name, real pretty," Coach said, missing the obvious.

"EL for Elizabeth, Izzy's mom, and NA for you, Mom," Jason clarified.

Coach chuckled and a broad smile filled his face. "Well then, there you go, perfect."

"How is, Elina, doing?" Nancy said.

"She's fine, moving all around, playing fits with my bladder. Before you ask, we called from the car and I have an appointment with Doctor Wilkinson early next week, but I'm sure everything is fine."

"No thanks to my son." And there it was, right out in the open.

"There's a lot you don't know, Mom," Jason defended.

"Enlighten me." Nancy folded her arms across her chest. She was really angry and I felt so sorry for Jason, it was going to be difficult to get her to understand without telling her what actually happened. The awkward silence grew tense. Nancy glanced over at me and then turned toward Jason. "Well at least it doesn't look like you hurt her."

Jason gawked at me.

"I didn't," I whispered, "I swear."

Nancy's glare bore down on Jason. "Don't try to put this off on Izzy. Your father—"

"Whoa! Whoa, Mom, I never—"

"So, Coach!" I interrupted. "It'd be nice to stretch my legs after being cooped up in the car for so long. What do you think, up for a little walk?"

Coach hopped up out of his chair and we made a hasty retreat.

"Go easy," I whispered to Jason as we passed.

Coach helped me down the back steps, and I instinctively headed toward the creek.

"You ever been back here?" I asked.

"Only to cut the grass."

"There's a nice little pool under this really big tree."

We walked down the narrow dirt path to Jason's and my pool. So much had happened here, from deep dives to cleanse my thirst for his blood, to guard duty to protect him, even the time he showed me the first pictures of the historian. The Faulkners had even made their return appearance here. This was indeed a special place.

"Nice back here," Coach said, ducking under a low-lying branch. Nice place for a hammock."

"Maybe you and Elina can play in the creek together."

"Grandpa, who'd of thought it?"

There was a crash—a dish or something—from the house. Coach and I both winced.

"She's a lucky little girl to have you as a Grandpa."

Suddenly, Nancy stormed out on the porch and slammed the screen door.

"We're not done!" Jason yelled from inside.

She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath and marched back inside.

"Think they'll work it out?" I asked.

Coach thought for a moment. "Couple first rounder's, that's for sure. Neither one of them is used to backing down, but in the end, their family."

I nodded. "I hope so. We really want to be close to you all."

"So," Coach said, "how's it you think the baby is a girl?"

"Well, while I was in Georgia—oh, and by the way, Cathy told me what you all were up too. Anyway, I saw Elizabeth."

"Your mom. I thought—"

"So did I, but she came to visit and well, it turns out she kind of has a knack for knowing things like that. It's kind of a family thing."

"Did you see your dad too?"

"Yes, and by then, Jason was with me."

He nodded approval. "It's none of my business, being family—"

"It is your business. You're just as much a part of this family as I am." Okay, how to be delicate. Jason and I had talked about this, so that our stories would match, Nancy would check for sure. "So," I began, "you remember Jason's pass, right?"

Coach laughed. "You're going to tell _me_ a football story?"

"Not exactly, but you remember the Spring Game."

"Sure." He grunted. "I remember."

"Well, it scared him. You yourself said it was humanly impossible, right?"

"Thing of beauty, though. Real thing of beauty."

"But after all that happened in the hospital, you can see how it could have affected him like that. Well, being the most wonderful guy in the whole world and all, he didn't want to burden me, so he decided until he figured out what was going on with him, he didn't want to put me at risk. You remember the night I mentioned after the game?" I knew that would derail any questions.

Coach fidgeted awkwardly. "Well, I'm glad you two found your way back to each other. You two make quite a team, quite a team indeed, and I'd say little Elina there is one lucky little girl."

I reached up and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me.

"Basketball," he said. "Definitely a basketball."

We both laughed.

"Sounds quiet up there, think we should take a chance?" Coach said.

"Sure, let's hope it's a good quiet. Besides, Jason and I should probably get going."

"Going?" Coach said, offering me his hand and helping me up the bank.

I giggled, thinking of the time Jason fell in the mud.

"Something?" Coach asked.

"No." I smiled. "We don't want to impose on—"

"Nonsense, not imposing one bit."

"But Nancy's really mad, what if—"

"Not gonna go that way." He smiled. "Sure, she's as angry as a hornet—more disappointed really—but like I said, 'in the end, they're family'. Anyway, she already made up your room."

"That sounds like her," I observed.

"Yes, it does." He put his arm around my waist and steered me through the darkness toward the back door.

I looked up at him when we reached the steps. "Ready?"

He smiled. "Don't worry that pretty little head of yours about it."

"Okay, Grandpa."

And up the steps we went.

### Chapter 24

The next morning, Nancy had breakfast—the whole deal, and while the tension between Jason and her was less obvious, it was still there. As Nancy and I started in on the dishes, Jason picked a football up off the shelf in the corner.

"Hey, Coach, feel like tossin' the ball around?"

"Sure, as long as you don't fire off one of those cannonballs." He chuckled.

"Sure, no problem."

I couldn't believe Jason was going to leave me alone with his mom, not after last night. The pieces of the broken dish were even still on the counter.

"Have fun," I said, and I know Jason could hear the disbelief in my voice, and then they were gone.

"I'll wash," Nancy said. "It's probably better if you avoid the dishwashing detergent."

"Sure, I can dry, that's fine."

We finished the plates, silverware, and glasses in silence.

"Would you mind terribly if I made an observation?" Nancy said.

I didn't mind, but at the same time, I didn't want to get in the middle of it. "No, that's fine."

"I have always felt that there was something unique, special about you. Sometimes, like when you and Jason first met, maybe even a little scary." She leaned her hip against the counter and turned slightly toward me. "But even way back then, Jason could only see the best in you." She handed me the last pot to dry. "Why don't we sit down?"

I finished wiping off the pot, set it on the drying rack and turned toward the table.

"I think the living room would be more comfortable don't you?"

"Sure, thanks—Oh!" Elina kicked. "Would you like to feel her?"

"Oh, yes, of course."

I guided her hand to where Elina was playing soccer with my bladder again.

"Oh, my, she's so strong. How far are you along now?"

"Close to seven months give or take."

"Well, she certainly is a strong little girl."

We walked into the living room. She waited until I sat down, and then sat on the end of the sofa closest to my chair.

"As I was saying, Jason has always been devoted to you as I know you are to him." She thought for a moment as if she'd forgotten her point. "Well, be that as it may, even after the miracle in the hospital when you saved his life you could see how much the two of you loved one another."

She was babbling, obviously afraid to say what was on her mind. While I was terrified what that something might be, this was getting us nowhere. "Nancy, Mom," I said. "Remember that day at the picnic table out back?"

She smiled. "Yes, I do. That was difficult for both of us."

"It was, but we made it through it. Whatever is on your mind, please, just say it."

Her expression changed to a combination of embarrassment and frustration like I'd derailed a conversation she'd been working on for some time. "I'm sorry. What I'm trying to say, is until last night, I really never appreciated just how much Jason loves you."

"What's not to love?" I spread my arms out to the sides.

Nancy frowned. "I'm serious. You have this power over him that—well I just don't completely understand."

"He has the same power over me."

"I know that, and yet, there's been times—"

"He's always been sweet to me," I defended.

"We both know that's not true."

"I've had my moments."

"That you have," she agreed.

Great, she's probably thinking like when I dragged him across the country, or maybe worse, the night I threw him through the big screen.

"Every couple has their moments," I said. "What matters is that they love each other, and nobody in the world loves Jason more than I do, not even you." I probably should have left the last part off.

"And I think we can agree he feels the same way about you, yet he's hurt you and you him."

"Ah, well, I don't think—no, I mean—"

"I know there are," She thought for a moment, "secrets the two of you keep from me—from everyone I suppose, and well, while I know they are none of my business, secrets worry me. Secrets can unwind even the best relationships."

Wow, she was pressing hard, much harder than I expected. I was getting edgy and a little angry and I didn't want to go there, not with Nancy. She was a sweet person and loved him almost as much as I did.

"I'll be honest with you," I said. "Yes, there are things that we can't talk about—"

"Can't, or won't?"

"Both! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice." I scooted up to the edge of my chair and spoke calmly. "There is a part of our lives, our love, that goes beyond what people consider reality, and yes, that part of our lives belongs only to us and it has to remain that way, even if we wanted it different."

"I don't understand that." She gently grasped my hands. We were both calmer now.

"Call it love, fate, divine intervention or even a curse if you must, but Jason and I were meant to be together. That will never change."

"And after our little discussion last night, I know he feels the same way about you. I couldn't accept that from him, but hearing you express the same feelings, I know it must be true." She leaned forward and gave me a hug.

"This looks all nice and cozy," Jason said from the kitchen.

Coach was behind him, just smiling.

Nancy leaned back. "When is your appointment?"

"Day after tomorrow."

"Elina really is a strong little girl."

### * * *

We got home around noon, and after I took a short nap, I joined in with straightening up the house. We removed all the sheets covering the furniture, dusted and Jason mopped the floor. We even spent some time in my old room, planning out the nursery. Neither of us realized what time it was until we had to turn on the lights.

"So, no way anything in the fridge is any good," Jason said. "Feel like pizza?"

"Yes, that sounds great, with pineapple & ground beef."

"What, no pickles?" Jason helped me into my jacket and then grabbed his.

"What's wrong with pineapple and ground beef?"

"Nothing."

We walked out to my car. Jason held the door for me and then slipped in behind the wheel. She fired right up, even after sitting for so long. I made fun of him when he stalled it trying to back out of the garage, so he did a little burnout when we pulled onto the main road from the driveway. A few minutes later, we pulled up out front of our favorite pizza place.

It was crowded inside, mostly high school kids who gave us this kind of weird stare when we came in. Joe, the owner, greeted us as soon as he spotted us.

"Oh my," He clasped his hands on either cheek. "I cannot-a believe my eyes. So-a nice to-a see you kids." He grabbed two menus. "Right-a this-a way."

We followed him back to what had become our booth, but it was occupied. He shooed off the two annoyed kids that were making out and then called over to the counter.

"Peter wipe-a the table off for Mr. and Mrs. Whitaker."

Peter came quickly, cleaned off the table and then Joe helped me onto the booth. Jason sat across from me.

"Please excuse my directness, but-a baby, yes?"

I nodded.

"A girl," Jason said.

"Ah! That's-a wonderful. I am so-a happy for you." Joe's smile was infectious. "You-a see?" He motioned to a brass plaque on the edge of the table. "This is-a your table, whenever you are here. Ah, and soon a booster seat!" He held out his arms theatrically. "What are we having tonight, your usual?"

"We're going to go with a large, with pineapple and ground beef this time," Jason said.

"Maybe mushrooms too?" I suggested.

"Oh-a no, no-a mushrooms—not good for the baby. Coming right up." He turned and hurried back into the kitchen.

Jason reached across the table and we held hands. "You okay? Mom wasn't too hard on you, was she?"

"So," I said, "you wait until we're in a public place before you ask me that?"

Jason shrugged.

"If I'm being honest, it was awkward; the word curse even came up."

Jason suddenly stood. "She said you were a curse?"

"Sit down!" I demanded. "That is not what I said. As a matter of fact, I said our relationship might even be considered a curse."

"You said that?"

"Don't you remember Lisa and her 'fatal attraction' theory?" I laughed. "No, you are no curse, that's for sure."

We leaned forward and kissed.

"Dude, get a room."

"Alex?" Jason stood and they slapped each other on the back in kind of a guy hug. "How are you? Oh hey, Cathy," Jason acknowledged her as she walked up to the table. "Izzy tells me congratulations are in order. Nice!"

Jason scooted in next to me so Alex and Cathy could join us.

"About time," I added.

Cathy held out her hand to show off her ring.

"It's beautiful," I said. "I'm so happy for you."

"Nice goin' dude," Jason said and then strained his neck to look over the top of the booth. "Is that Matt?" He looked at me. "Mind?"

"Absolutely."

Jason looked stunned until I laughed and then he and Alex went to talk with Matt.

"You look great," I said to Cathy.

"I know, right? I don't know what it is, but after we got back—no wait, it was before, or was it—"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down."

She took a deep breath. "When I went with you to Georgia—maybe even before, there was like this huge weight hanging over us."

"I know; I was in pretty sorry shape."

"Yes you were, but it was more than that, almost like the world was hanging in the balance, something dreadful was at stake. Even after I left you—and I will never forgive myself for that—"

"No, you shouldn't feel that way, not at all."

"Well, I do. Anyway, after we got back, I just couldn't shake that feeling of impending doom. Even Alex noticed. Then, a month or so later, boom!"

"Boom?"

"Yep, boom, it was like the weight of the entire world was lifted off my shoulders."

I smiled.

"Whatever happened, I've never felt more alive in my entire life." She cocked her head to the side and looked at me with a strange expression. "What?"

"You tell me," I said.

"I don't think I can—it's just not there."

"But you can. My family—"

"Then you saw them—the Faulkners?" Cathy confirmed.

"But you already knew that."

"I guess I did, and the rest?"

"You tell me," I repeated.

She thought for a moment—actually looked like she was lost in thought and then said, "Your family was in danger, more than just your family."

"And?"

"Their world... _their world_ was in danger, but, but—" She squeezed her eyes closed and then suddenly opened them wide. "A fight—no, an epic battle that changed everything."

I sat back and smiled. "Bingo."

"And since your family is safe, that's why I feel so much better?"

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?" Alex said, slipping in next to Cathy.

"Girl talk," she replied.

Alex held up his hands. "Don't want any part of that."

"I make it-a two," Joe called over the counter, "It's-a on the house."

"Thanks," We all echoed.

"Pineapple?" Alex questioned.

"Blame it on Elina," Jason said.

"Elina?" Alex replied.

And the conversation became about our little girl. Twice, though, Cathy and I exchanged an uneasy glance. I didn't completely understand our previous conversation; it was like Cathy doubted her ability. She was happy, but as the evening wore on, she seemed to become more sullen. Our visual exchanges were almost like a silent interrogation. What changed?

### * * *

"Come on," Jason yelled up the stairs. "You're going to make us late."

"Be right there." Truth is, I'd been ready for fifteen minutes, but I was sitting in the bathroom, just staring in the mirror. There was something, something the way Nancy went on about Elina that had me concerned, not to mention the change that came over Cathy at dinner. Was Elina stronger than normal? Was she normal? What if something was wrong? Then what? Doctor Wilkinson would have the answers—so why couldn't I move?

There was a gentle tapping on the door and it slowly opened. "There you are," Jason said. He slipped in behind me and started to massage my shoulders while he watched me in the mirror. After a few minutes, he whispered, "There's nothing to be afraid of."

I twisted so I could look up at him. "You don't know that, not for sure."

He sank down on one knee, next to me, brushed back my hair and then kissed me. "Everything is going to be fine. You're beautiful, Elina's beautiful, healthy, strong, and everything will be okay." He kissed me again, stood and offered me his hand. "Let's do this."

"Okay," I said hesitantly.

Your mind can play a lot of tricks on you and I had worked myself up into quite a frenzy by the time we reached Doctor Wilkinson's office. She was right on time, so I didn't have to wait and worry any longer than necessary, and she was as thorough and gentle as my first visit.

She was good at keeping her facial expressions, her voice, calm, but I did notice that she seemed a little concerned about the size of my belly. After her examination, she jotted down some notes, measured my baby bump a second time and then asked, "How far along did we think you are?"

"Around seven months."

"Yes, that's what I have too."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, but I'd like to do a sonogram if that's alright with you? It will allow us to see the baby. We'll be able to tell if it's a boy or a girl if you'd like to know."

"It's a girl. We named her Elina."

She frowned. "Well, why don't we have a look to be sure? Is the father here?"

"Yes, Jason's in the waiting room."

"That's perfect, then. I'll have the nurse bring him back while I go grab the equipment."

It was only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity before Jason arrived.

"So, a family photo op they tell me," Jason said in an obvious attempt at levity.

"You think something's wrong?"

"Nah, pretty standard stuff or so says the Internet. Normally, you'd have had at least two of these by now." He smiled, but it did seem a little forced.

The door opened and Doctor Wilkinson and the nurse wheeled in a piece of hospital equipment. Doctor Wilkinson had Jason stand up next to the head of the bed, draped a sheet over the lower portion of my body and then slid up the front of my gown. It felt like Elina rolled over.

"Well, your baby's quite active—"

"Elina," Jason said.

"Well, let's see if we can get a smile for the camera."

The doctor rubbed some gel on a probe and then a little on my belly, but before she began, the nurse subtly turned the monitor so Jason and I couldn't see it. The probe was slimy and cold as it slid over my skin. The doctor settled it into one position pretty quickly. It looked like the nurse might have taken a picture and then the doctor moved the probe to a spot very low on my belly. The first one was definitely on Elina, but this one was way off of where I felt her.

"Is something wrong?" I finally asked.

"Wrong?" Jason edged forward. Aren't we supposed to be able to see her?"

"Yes, yes of course." Doctor Wilkinson said. As she moved the probe, the nurse turned the monitor toward us. Doctor Wilkinson scooted her chair around so she could see the monitor as well and then slowly moved the probe around. "Well, you're right about the baby being a girl and Elina is certainly a beautiful name. Let's see—" She moved the probe again. "There we are, a perfect little face."

Jason put his arm around me. We were both beaming. "She's beautiful," Jason said.

"As if there was any doubt," I added.

Doctor Wilkinson moved the probe again. "Ten little fingers and toes. She's doing just fine."

Jason leaned back from the monitor. "Sounds like there's a but in there," he said to the doctor.

Doctor Wilkinson looked at me as if for permission.

"Absolutely, Jason's my husband and Elina's father, what is it?"

### Chapter 25

"Ahh!" I gasped as Elina kicked me harder than she ever had before. This one didn't feel like normal baby movements, maybe defensive or anger. "Ahh!"

Doctor Wilkinson recoiled back, taking the probe with her. The shock on her face was obvious.

"What just happened?" I yelled.

"Easy," Jason said. "Take it easy." But even his voice was laced with concern.

"It's okay, Izzy," Doctor Wilkinson said. "I don't think Elina is a big fan of the sonogram." She spoke to Jason. "Some babies are more sensitive."

The nurse had left the room at some point but now returned with a cart of wipes and pads.

I doubled over in pain as Elina pushed up high into my chest. "I—I—I can't breathe," I gasped. "Stop!" I shrieked as I pushed back toward the head of the hospital bed as if I could escape. "Make her stop!"

Jason grasped my hands. "Look at me, Izzy. Izzy!"

I grimaced but looked up at him.

"Everything is going to be alright. Breathe, just breathe—short breaths if that helps." He squeezed my hand.

"Okay," I gasped. "That's a little better."

Jason glanced down toward my belly and immediately turned toward the doctor. "She's bleeding."

"What?" I looked down, and sure enough, there was a smeared bloodstain where I had slid up the hospital bed. I yanked my hands away from Jason and grabbed at myself. "Elina's bleeding! We're bleeding!" When I started to thrash, Jason tried to grab my hands again. "No! No! Don't! Leave me alone." I slapped at his hands.

Doctor Wilkinson slid a large pad up under my bottom. "Jason, would you please wait outside."

"No! He has to stay with me."

"Okay, okay," Doctor Wilkinson said in a soothing voice, certainly intended to calm me down.

"Try to stay up by Izzy's head," the nurse suggested.

Jason and I both stared at the blood. There was so much, it was almost black.

"Look at me," Jason said, turning my chin so that I was facing him.

"What happened? What's wrong?" I cried.

"You're going to be okay," Jason said. "The doctor said Elina didn't like the sonogram."

"Is she alright?"

Jason's eyes showed the same fear I'm sure mine did.

The nurse squeezed around behind him and lowered the head of the bed so that I was lying flat. I couldn't see much beyond my baby bump now, but watching Jason's face told me it wasn't a pretty sight. He squeezed my hand as they moved away a wad of bloody pads.

"It's okay," he whispered; his voice filled more with fear than reassurance. He leaned down and kissed me.

"She's still moving," I told him.

He smiled. "That's gotta be good, right?"

Together, we reached down and rested our hands on Elina so we could feel her movements. Two more nurses burst into the room.

"Is Izzy okay?" Jason said.

"She's lost a lot of blood and we're going to have to determine the cause," Doctor Wilkinson said before turning to me. "Do you feel dizzy or lightheaded?"

"I don't think so."

"We're going to turn the intensity down on the sonogram and see if we can determine where you're bleeding."

"No! You can't, she doesn't like it—it must hurt her."

Jason slipped his hands around mine and gently squeezed them. "They have to do this, to make sure you're okay."

"No, Jason." I shook my head. "They can't hurt her."

"I have an idea." Jason let go of my hands and cupped his around Elina. As he did, her movements slowed until she was still. He looked deep into my eyes. "I will hold her while they check to see what happened. She'll be fine as long as she knows I've got her." He glanced toward the doctor.

"We'll do this as quickly as possible," Doctor Wilkinson confirmed.

Elina flinched when the cold probe touched my stomach, but Jason's hands around her seemed to comfort her like he'd promised.

The doctor slid the probe quickly and then spoke to Jason. "Can you see if you can move her to the right?"

Jason looked deep into my eyes and shifted his hands. Elina moved. He smiled, and whispered, "She's fine."

"Izzy, you did fine," Doctor Wilkinson said. "I think the baby's sudden movement caused a deep internal bruise. It appears the bleeding has almost stopped." She turned her back and said something to the nurses and then two of them left. "I want you to just lie still for a little while and then we'll check again to make sure the bleeding has completely stopped." She patted the back of one of Jason's hands. "They're both going to be just fine."

An older woman, followed by the two nurses entered the room. The nurses quickly slipped a blue gown over her clothes.

"Stay nice and quiet for me, okay?" Doctor Wilkinson said and then walked over to talk with the older woman. They spoke in whispers so neither Jason nor I could hear what they were saying.

Jason's right hand slid away from my belly and then gently grasped my hand. "Nice and easy."

"Why are they whispering? Something must still be wrong." Panic was creeping back into my voice.

"Shh, shh," Jason said. "You're both fine."

"But—"

"Patience," he whispered. We both looked over at a sudden noise as both doctors left the room. One of the nurses walked over to us.

"How are you doing?" she said.

"Scared," I confessed.

"That's certainly understandable," she said. "I think I'd be scared too, but you needn't worry, you and your baby are in good hands."

"Everything's okay?" I questioned.

"Yes, yes, of course. You're both going to be just fine." She glanced back toward the door and then toward Jason and me, speaking much softer this time. "You gave us quite a shock. I don't think any of us has ever seen a baby do what your baby just did. She is really something—"

The door opened and the two doctors walked directly to my bed.

"Izzy, Jason, this is my mom, Doctor—"

"Wilkinson." Jason laughed, halfheartedly. "My mom told Izzy this used to be your practice."

"Well, I still stop in from time-to-time." She glanced at her daughter. "Cynthia would like me to have a look, another set of eyes if you will. Do you think Elina will let me do that?"

I looked up at Jason.

"Sure, I think we can manage." Jason let go of my hand and cupped both hands around Elina again. "I assume you want to look at the same place?"

"Yes, to begin with." She looked at me. "We'll do this quickly, we just don't want to miss anything that could jeopardize you or your baby."

"You have to stop if she gets agitated," I insisted.

She nodded. "Okay, here we go." She placed the cold probe on my belly and again, Elina flinched, but just like before when Jason moved her, she calmed down.

My Doctor Wilkinson got this, 'I told you so' look on her face when her mother glanced over at her. "Just a little longer," she said and then guided her mother's hand, and the probe, down lower. Elina began to kick.

"Stop! Stop!" I said.

Jason pushed the probe away and then cuddled his hands back around Elina. The doctor's exchanged another curious glance. Jason let go of Elina with one hand to grasp mine.

"No, she needs you to hold her," I protested.

"You need me too," Jason whispered.

Elina calmed down after just a few seconds and Jason was able to hold my hand. Jason smiled at me so warmly. My heart could have melted if not for the deep concern in his eyes. Without looking away from me, he spoke to the doctors. "So, how are my girls?" He glanced over at them as they handed the sonogram probe to the nurse. "Straight up, the truth," he added.

My doctor looked at me with a cautious expression. "Izzy?"

"Yes, yes, of course, the truth."

She glanced at her mother before beginning. "Let me start by saying, in all my studies—"

"And my experience," her mother added.

"We have never seen a baby do what your baby just did. Yes, some babies are more sensitive to the sonogram, but I've never seen one react so intensely. I am so sorry the baby hurt you, but fortunately, you were in the office." She pulled over a stool and sat down very close to Jason and I. "You both understand the role of the placenta in a baby's development?"

Jason and I nodded.

"In rare cases, the placenta can be extremely small—"

"In our case?" Jason asked.

"Yes. In your case, it's almost as if the umbilical cord connects directly to the uterus wall. At thirty weeks, we expect a much more developed placenta. The good news is your baby is very healthy—stronger than most I'd say."

Jason and I exchanged a concerned glance.

"So how did that account for the bleeding?" I asked.

"It's possible she kicked right where the umbilical cord is attached to your uterus. Then, when she pushed, that strained the connection.

"But that's her blood supply?" I did a poor job of containing the fear in my voice.

Doctor Wilkinson patted my arm. "She's fine. Elina's fine, she did not lose any blood."

"But Izzy did," Jason said.

"Yes, she did, but the bleeding seems to have stopped." She glanced back up at her mother. "I'd like to check you into the hospital for a few—"

"The hospital?" I complained.

"Given your blood loss, and as I said, the rare size of the placenta, I think it's our safest option."

"I could lose her?" I started to cry.

Jason squeezed my hand. "Is that true?"

Doctor Wilkinson hesitated. "It's a possibility that I don think we should ignore—she still needs some time to develop. I don't want to risk—"

"Then the hospital it is," Jason said.

"No!" I yelled. I wanted what was best for Elina to be sure, but at the same time, there was Jason's condition and my blood abnormality to consider. The hospital didn't seem like the greatest idea—for one thing, they might type me for a blood transfusion and that _blip_ Doctor Diaz mentioned would show up again. That might start a ball rolling I couldn't stop. "Why the hospital?"

Jason looked confused—like I'd missed the obvious.

"I think they might want to give you some additional blood," Doctor Wilkinson began. "Then, of course, they have all the necessary equipment to monitor Elina."

"Is there another option?" I asked.

"Why?" Jason questioned as he stood. "Why are we talking about this?"

I grasped his hand. "Please, Jason. There are all sorts of germs and infections around a hospital. The less time you're there, the better," I covered.

"I don't know." He sat back down and looked over at the doctors. " _Is_ there another option? Another _safe_ option," he added.

The doctors exchanged a glance and then my doctor said, "Total bed rest, and I mean total." She looked at Jason. "Do you realize what that involves?"

"Yes, I think I do. What about the additional blood?"

I grunted. He'd obviously not picked up on the risks involved with going to the hospital.

He stroked my hair, still oblivious. "Bedpans can't be that bad."

"Bedpans," I groaned.

"Total bed rest," my doctor repeated. "As for the additional blood, if you drink plenty of fluids you will naturally replenish your blood volume."

"I don't know," Jason said. "It still seems like second best—I want the best for my girls."

"The hospital is by far—"

"We can do this." I squeezed Jason's hand. "I promise, we'll be fine. I'll feel much better at home in my own bed. That has to count for something, right?" I added looking over at my doctor.

She sat back on her stool. "Yes. Yes, it actually does." She looked up at Jason and then to me. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

I looked up a Jason and then to the doctor. "Yes."

She stood, reached out and patted my leg. "As long as you follow my instructions to the letter, you and Elina should be just fine. I want you to rest now." She looked over at Jason. "Jason, why don't you come with me and I'll write up everything that you need to know."

"Sure." He leaned over and kissed me and then followed Doctor Wilkinson out of the room.

While they were gone, the nurse finished cleaning me up. To be honest, I was scared to death. Afraid to move, afraid I might sneeze, afraid of anything that might hurt Elina, but even so, I knew the hospital wasn't an option.

"Hey," Jason said, peaking his head into the room a few minutes later.

"Hi." I forced a smile.

"Could you give us a minute?" Jason said to the nurse.

"Absolutely." She got up and quickly left the room.

Jason sauntered across the room and then sat down on the stool closest to the head of the bed. He leaned down and kissed me. "I love you."

"I love you."

"Are we doing the right thing?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I know you're trying to protect me—my secret—but it's not worth risking you, or Elina's lives."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" He finally got it!

"I know that's what you're doing." There was a glint of anger in his eyes. He abruptly stood.

"Sit down, Jason."

"No, I don't think so. I think I should man up and walk out there and tell the doctor to send you to the hospital."

"Please sit down."

He sank slowly back onto the stool.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, bedpans and waiting on me hand and foot, but—"

"You're not asking a lot of me, you're putting yourself and Elina at risk for me."

"You saw the doctors' faces. I'm not saying they lied, but I'm not so sure they told us everything either. It's just like before; I don't want Elina to become some lab rat, do you?"

"Of course not, but whether they told us everything or not, they genuinely want what's best for you and Elina. You didn't talk to them like I did out in the hall. They're really concerned. If something happens, there won't be much time. I won't make a choice—there is no choice—I'd have to save you—if I can even do that."

I stretched upward and kissed him. "It won't come to that, I promise."

"You can't make that promise—no way."

"Then just trust me. Can you do that?"

"You know I trust you—"

I gave him a sideways glance.

"Okay, so I don't always get it, but you and me—" He made that motion between us. "and Elina, we're one."

"And home is the best place for us to be."

Just then Doctor Wilkinson came in. "How are you feeling, Izzy? Any dizziness, lightheadedness?"

"No. I feel fine."

"She's scared," Jason said to my scowl.

Doctor Wilkinson seemed to sense the tension and certainly knew stress was a bad thing. "Well Jason, I think your girls are in perfectly good hands. You'll do just fine." She looked at me. "As long as you follow my instructions."

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

"Good. Jason's made arrangements for an ambulance to take you home—"

"An ambulance?"

"I'm taking care of you, remember?" Jason said.

"Fine."

Doctor Wilkinson checked me an hour later, and since there was no sign of any further bleeding, she released us to go home.

The paramedics from the ambulance carried me upstairs in their gurney. Once they moved me to my bed, Jason walked them out and then came running back upstairs. He'd move our bed over in front of the window so I could see outside. He fussed with the covers and pillows until I was comfortable and then slipped into bed next to me. It had been an exhausting day—stressful to say the least—and he fell asleep within a few minutes. I lay there, staring out the window at the nondescript tangle of bare tree branches where, a few months prior, all I wanted to do was die.

### Chapter 26

The first forty-eight hours past without incident, so Doctor Wilkinson and more importantly, Jason eased up on me a little. Jason was a trooper and despite bedpan duty, managed the most romantic candle lit sponge bath ever one night.

Nancy and Coach visited regularly. Their visits were short, I think Jason had something to do with that, but I'm just as sure they were being cautious not to add any stress. During their first visit, there was this moment when I think they realized the same thing I had about my situation, and staring out the window and waiting. They didn't ask too many questions, just kept the conversations upbeat and supportive. It was sweet, but truthfully, kind of weird, because I know they were both worried sick.

"Company!" Jason yelled from downstairs. "Are you decent?"

There were footsteps on the steps.

"Come in, come in," I called over the headboard, unable to see the door. "How are you guys?" I said as Cathy and Alex walked into view.

"We're great," Cathy said.

"So any wedding plans yet?"

"Nothing concrete," Alex confessed.

"But there is something we'd like to ask," Cathy added.

"Okay," I said as Jason sat down on the edge of the bed next to me.

"Would you guys be in our wedding?"

"Yes, or course," I said, grasping Jason's hand, "that'd be awesome."

"Like maybe best man?" Alex said.

Jason got up and he and Alex did that football half hug, pat on the back thing. "And we both know I am the best man." Jason joked.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Cathy said. She grabbed my foot that was sticking out from under the covers. "Barefoot and pregnant. Really, Jason?"

We all laughed. Jason gave me a little déjà vu wink.

Alex picked up on the lighthearted conversation. "So, ever notice how the studs in high school don't end up so well in life's big picture? I mean here we are, ruled the football field, dated the hottest girls in school and neither one of us has a job."

That, while intended as a joke, didn't sit so well with Jason.

"Don't be ridiculous." Cathy punched Alex in the shoulder. "We're all going to do just fine. Sometimes it just takes some time to gain traction."

"Right." I ran my hands across my belly. "Traction?"

"You're bad," Cathy teased. She looked over at Jason and Alex. "You guys mind giving us a little girl time?"

"Sure, no problem." Jason leaned down and gave me a kiss.

"Maybe now," I said, looking up at him.

"Sure, now's a perfect time," he said.

"What are you talking about?" Cathy pondered.

I held Jason's hand. "Well, Jason and I would like to ask you if you would consider being Elina's godparents?"

Cathy & Alex exchanged a strange look, perhaps disbelief. "You sure?" Cathy said.

"I don't even have a job," Alex added. "I don't know anything about kids."

"Well," Jason began, "that makes two of us. The thing is, though, we know you would do right by Elina—and well, that's what godparents are supposed to do."

"Yes!" Cathy said. "Of course, yes."

Alex nodded in agreement. "Just tell us what we need to do and we'll do it."

Jason gave me a little peck on the lips and then he and Alex headed downstairs. Cathy took Jason's spot on the edge of the bed.

"You okay?" she asked.

I looked out the window for a minute. "An odd circle of events, don't you think?"

She glanced out the window, her gaze lingering for a long time. "Are you sure about this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, while I know we're best friends and all, I'm hardly godparent material—sure, Alex—"

"You don't want to?"

"No, that's not what I said, it's just, well, can't you do better than me?"

"Cathy," I droned and shook my head. "No, we couldn't do any better than _you_ and Alex, you're the best. Besides, it'll keep us close."

"Oh, so you don't really—"

"Stop." I reached over and grasped her hand. "Sure, I hope it keeps us close, and I pray you never have to step in and be Elina's parents, but if things turn out that way, Jason and I both know you and Alex will look after her—do right by her. That's all any parent could ask for."

Cathy rolled her hand over in mine until we were holding hands. She closed her eyes and was obviously concentrating. Finally, she opened her eyes and smiled briefly.

"Oh!" I yelped. "That one hurt."

"She's still moving around a lot? I thought she'd calmed down, you know since—" She held her arms in a circle out in front of her stomach and puffed out her cheeks.

"Nice," I groaned.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. By all accounts you're tiny, but you said yourself Elina's a big baby."

"Here," I said, placing Cathy's hand where Elina was kicking.

Cathy closed her eyes again and I knew she was concentrating, but it only lasted a few seconds. She abruptly withdrew her hand.

"What?" I asked.

"Noth—"

"Don't say nothing. I know you saw something. What was it?"

"She's going to be beautiful, but most importantly, loved very deeply."

"Can you put that into any context?"

"I wish I could, but not really. I could see her in your arms, the three of you laying side by side—love, so much love."

"Well, I don't think anyone could ever love her more than Jason and me."

Cathy leaned down and gave me a little hug. "Exactly."

Jason and Alex came around the headboard. "What's up?"

Cathy got up from the edge of the bed. "Just girl talk."

A yawn slipped out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No," Cathy said, "we've overstayed our welcome."

"Never," Jason said. "Never happen, got it?"

"Sure," Alex said. "Just the same, we better head on out and let our godchild get some sleep."

"Godchild," Cathy echoed. "Who would have ever imagined."

### * * *

"Nice and easy now," Jason said as he eased me down onto the car seat for yet another checkup. He'd tried to make me ride in the back this time, but I wouldn't have any part of that.

"You think the seat belt will fit?" I joked.

"If not, you're definitely going in the back."

"So grumpy." I had to let it retract and pull it back out, twice, but I finally got it around Elina and me. She was still through the whole thing, but she didn't have much room to move now. It also seemed like, after the disaster in the doctor's office, Elina knew she had to be careful not to hurt me, and when she did move, she always recoiled away from the poke or jab. Jason thought I was just imagining things, but one night, when I was laying in Jason's arms, he could feel the same things I did. After that, he realized I wasn't kidding, even though it sounded totally impossible.

Jason jumped in behind the wheel. "Comfy?"

"Thanks for warming up the car." I squeezed two fingers under my seatbelt. "We wouldn't have fit with a coat."

"I'll be as gentle as I can." Jason slipped the Rover into gear and we headed down the driveway. He backed up twice at the entrance to the main road so he could miss all the potholes. The rest of the ride was smooth as silk. It didn't hurt we were doing ten miles an hour under the speed limit. Talk about over protective, but Jason wasn't taking any chances and I was grateful. When we arrived at the doctor's office, he pulled right up on the sidewalk by the front door.

"Door to door service," I joked. "Doctor Wilkinson did say I could walk now you know."

"Yeah, sure, but no need to take any unnecessary risks." He hopped out, raced around to my door and helped me out.

"Well, I never." An older woman said as she came out of the front entrance and had to walk around the front of the Rover to get to the sidewalk.

"Well, now you have." Jason smiled and waved to her. "Have a nice day!" Once inside, we checked in with the receptionist and then sat down next to each other in the waiting room.

Another woman, in her early thirties, with two kids in tow, came in and kind of gave us a look.

"Jason, please go move the Rover."

"It's not blocking—"

I motioned to the woman with the two kids. "Please, we're not the only people in the world who are pregnant."

"Yeah, you're right." He got up, leaned down and kissed me. "Wait for me?"

"Always."

Jason raced across the room, almost running into one of the kids and slipped out the front door. Moment's later; he burst back into the waiting area and returned to the seat next to me.

"What'd I miss?"

I leaned over and kissed him.

"Ewe, that's gross." The little boy groaned.

"Jeremy, that's not polite." His mother said, grabbing his arm. "You apologize."

Jeremy turned toward us, back to his mother, and stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. His gaze was locked on the floor. "Sorry," he droned.

"Jeremy," his mother warned.

He glanced at her and then back to us. "Sorry." Suddenly he stuck out his tongue.

"Mrs. McKinley," the nurse called from the glass doors that led back to the doctor's area.

Jeremy's mother stood. "Come on boys."

"Awe, can't we stay here?" they complained.

"I bet Doctor Wilkinson has lollypops."

The two boys raced toward the door where the nurse was standing.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. McKinley said, "he really is a good boy."

"Seems like it to me," Jason said. "Both of them."

She smiled. "Is this your first?"

"Yes," I said. "Your third?" I assumed.

She softly sighed. "The boys have two sisters in school, first and third grades."

"That's wonderful," I said. "They're lucky kids."

She smiled but looked so weary. "Follow the doctor's orders and everything will turn out fine. Nice meeting you, and good luck." She turned and shuffled over to her boys. When she took their hands, Jeremy used the opportunity to stick out his tongue at us again.

Jason and I both burst out laughing when the glass door closed.

"Nervous?" Jason probed.

"A little. I know she's kind of squashed in there now, but I miss her movements."

"I can see that. You've taken great care of yourself and followed the doctor's orders to the letter."

"I know, it's just—well, I guess we'll find out soon enough, right?"

"What were you going to say?" Jason turned, focusing all his attention on me. "Just what?"

"Mrs. Whitaker," the nurse called.

"Showtime," I said, struggling to my feet before Jason could help.

Jason grasped my hand and stood. "You should have let me help you." He pulled me close—well close considering I was nearly nine months pregnant. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise."

The nurse had Jason wait outside my room until after the exam. Doctor Wilkinson didn't say too much outside of her usual pep talk during the exam, and I didn't detect any sign of increased concern.

"Well, everything is fine. Why don't you get dressed and then have Jason join you? I'm going to grab my schedule and be right back."

Once I was dressed, I poked my head out in the hallway. "Yoo-hoo, remember me?"

Jason stuck his tongue out at Jeremy and then jumped up and kissed me.

"Gross!" Jeremy ducked behind a huge potted fern.

"I can't leave you alone for a minute."

Jason smiled. "Just practicing."

"Oh great, you're going to tease her?"

"Nah."

"Get in here before you get into any more trouble." I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside my room.

He rolled into my arms and kissed me again. "I have told you how lucky I am, right? And how you've made me the happiest man in the whole world."

I cupped his bristly jaw in my hands and kissed him very gently on the lips. "Sit down, before Doctor Wilkinson gets here," I whispered in my sultry voice.

"Yes, ma'am." Jason smiled and settled onto the chair next to the exam table.

Suddenly, the door opened and Doctor Wilkinson came in carrying a clipboard of papers.

"Jason, nice to see you again."

"Nice to see you too, ma'am."

She sat down and then rolled her stool closer to us. "You both are to be commended. I wasn't completely convinced our little stay at home arrangement was the best option, but you've obviously been diligent, both Izzy and the baby—Elina," she corrected, "are doing splendidly, although, Jason, I must say you look a bit weary."

"Well, keeping Izzy down is no easy feat."

"No, I don't imagine it is. Well, good news on that front. I want to schedule Izzy's C-section for this Friday."

"A C-section? Doesn't that involve cutting?" Jason asked before I could.

"You never mentioned it before," I added, realizing we were talking about the hospital again.

"I'm sorry. I thought you understood after our talk about the location of the placenta that a C-section was necessary."

"So, I can't deliver the baby normally?"

She patted my leg. "A C-section is a very normal type of delivery these days. Really, it's a routine procedure and in many ways, much easier on you and the baby. They will do a spinal block and you'll be awake for the entire procedure. You won't miss a thing."

Jason suddenly jumped up. I think the shock finally wore off. "That's like three days!"

"Yes," Doctor Wilkinson replied.

"We're going to be parents in three days!" His joy was infectious, but he slowly sank back onto his chair. "You have to operate on Izzy?"

"There, there, like I said, she won't feel a thing and you two can enjoy the birth of your little Elina together."

"So you said it was a routine procedure, right?" Jason confirmed.

"Yes. I don't see the earlier episode being an issue at this point, so everything from here on out should go smoothly." She pulled up her clipboard. "Would you like an afternoon delivery?"

Jason and I looked at one another and then he grasped my hands. "Yes, afternoon," he said. "For Mom and Coach."

"Sounds perfect." I turned to the doctor. "Afternoon it is."

"Why don't you two go out and enjoy yourselves a little? Maybe a movie or something to eat—not too spicy, though. After tonight, I want you to moderate your food intake, but drink plenty of fluids—no caffeine and watch the acidic juices."

"You mean like a date?" Jason gasped.

"Yes, exactly like a date." Doctor Wilkinson smiled. "I can't wait to meet Elina." She stood. "The nurse will be right in with your hospital paperwork. Izzy, if anything changes—anything at all, call my paging service right away and then dial 911."

"Okay. Should I be—"

She patted my leg, reassuringly. "Everything is going to be fine." She opened the door. "Enjoy your evening and remember, not too spicy. See you Friday." She walked out, letting the automatic door close behind her.

She'd no sooner left than there was a tapping at the door and the nurse came in. She went over all the paperwork with us, filling out most of it, and highlighting where we needed to sign. Once that was finished, Jason and I headed out to the lobby. He made me wait while he warmed up the Rover but finally reappeared in the doorway. Once I was settled in the car, he climbed in behind the wheel.

"So what do you feel like—sky's the limit!"

"Honestly?"

"Absolutely—no wait, let me guess." He smiled. "Pizza."

"With pineapple and pickles."

"Pickles now?"

"Yeah," I said sheepishly.

"Elina is going to love that." He laughed and we drove out of the parking lot. We'd just gone a little way when he turned and looked at me.

"I was thinking the same thing. I'll call them." I grabbed my cell phone and called Jason's mom. "Hi, Nancy. Have you and Coach eaten yet?"

"No, we were thinking we might go out tonight. Is everything alright? Are you in a car?"

"Yes and yes. You guys feel like pizza in say fifteen minutes? I know it's short notice."

"We'll be right there."

Dinner was great, but I didn't have very much room and only managed one slice and just nibbled on a second. I think it worried Nancy a little, but she let it go. With Jason and Coach at the same table, even the conversation about Elina turned to football, but it was a totally enjoyable evening. Nancy and I had a chance to talk while Coach and Jason went out to warm up the cars.

"You okay?" Nancy said.

"I'm a little nervous."

She reached down to pat my arm. "Izzy, you're trembling."

A tear trickled down my cheek. "I'm scared. We had a little miscommunication thing with the doctor, but bottom line, I have to have a C-section."

"Oh," she said, trying to maintain a calm voice, but the shock on her face told me how she really felt. "Well, I'm sure Doctor Wilkinson knows what's best for you and Elina. I think C-sections are pretty common place these days."

"That's what Doctor Wilkinson said, but—"

"Izzy, no matter how it's accomplished, giving birth is one of the most amazing miracles in the world. I know you've had some tense moments, getting to this place, but you're ready, I know it right here." She patted her chest. "You are an amazing young woman and you are going to be an incredible mom."

"This looks serious." Coach walked up to the table. "Oh!" He nodded and then sat down next to me. "I don't know anything about birthin' babies, but I do know you are the strongest, most determined young lady I've ever known. You'll do just fine, just fine indeed." With that, he stood and offered me his arm. "Shall we?"

Nancy folded in behind us as we walked out to the cars. Jason met us at the Rover and held my door until I was buckled in.

"Thank you," I said to Nancy and Coach. "For everything. See you Friday."

"Yes indeed." Coach closed the door.

### Chapter 27

Nancy's reassurances at dinner had helped, but facing a C-section still frightened me. Sure, I'd been through more than my share of painful experiences, the fiery vampire change for one, even so, a human life, Elina's, had never depended on my strength, or lack thereof.

"Hey," Jason cooed as he reached across the console to hold my hand. It was as if he knew what I was thinking. "You're—no we're going to get through this." He lifted my hand, rolled it in his, kissed my palm and then pressed my hand over his heart. "You have the most amazing strength, a strength that lies within your heart." He glanced my way again. "No doubt you can do this without me, but I'll be there."

"You're wrong, I can't do this without you. Together." I rolled his hand in mine like he had done, kissed his palm and then pressed his hand over my heart. "Together."

We both slid as close as the console would allow and Jason draped his arm over my shoulders. I rested my head in the crook of his arm and never felt safer or more loved.

"I love you, Jason—" A burp escaped.

"Nice." Jason smiled, laughed, but then turned serious. "You okay? Should I call the doctor?"

"A burp doesn't warrant calling the doctor."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I just don't want to mess this up, you're depending on me."

I'd been so wrapped up in my part of the whole baby process I'd forgotten Jason's part—how he must feel. I know I would feel helpless if our roles were reversed.

We turned up the gravel driveway and I swear I could have walked faster.

"Trying not to chip the paint?" I teased.

Jason passed the turn off to Tink's garage and, instead, pulled up out front. He shut off the engine and slowly withdrew his arm from around my shoulders. As he did, his hand caressed my cheek and then he drew my face to him and we kissed. What I'm sure was meant to be a reassuring kiss quickly turned into more—much more. I clasped my hands behind his neck and bent him over the console, my mouth opening. Our tongues danced for a moment before Jason eased back.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that," I murmured. "Not now."

He reached for the key still in the ignition. I intercepted his hand before he could start the car.

"What? What's wrong?" he said with a touch of panic in his voice.

"Easy, nothing's wrong," I said reassuringly, "actually, quite the opposite."

"But—"

"Take a deep breath, relax." I slowly glanced down at Elina. His eyes followed. "It's just we can't take this where I want it to go." I winked.

"Where we want it to go," he corrected. He tenderly grasped my cheeks between his hands, drew me closer again and we kissed, a long, sweet, reassuring kiss this time.

When the muscles that caressed Elina fluttered, I grasped his wrists and eased him back. "Look, I can't remember the last time we fogged the windows." I reached forward toward the windshield and wrote, 'I love you' with my finger.

Jason smiled and under what I'd written wrote, 'Forever'. "It's cold. What was I thinking?" He opened the door and raced around the front of the car and then opened my door.

"I know exactly what you were thinking—the same thing I was thinking," I cooed.

He reached down to lift me out of the seat.

"Wait," I said, and then reached for the windshield and wrote, 'Elina' and drew a heart around her name.

"Perfect," Jason said and with unfathomable gentleness lifted me out of the car and then carried me all the way to our bedroom. He removed my coat and then his, tossing them in the general direction of the cedar chest. "How about a sponge bath to unwind?"

I laughed at the irony. "I'm not thinking that would be the outcome. Maybe we could make this one about Elina."

"Great idea." He winked and flashed that perfect smile of his. "Come to Papa."

The sponge bath was delightful, the soft glow of candlelight and a medley of lullaby's Jason had put together in a playlist. One song was especially beautiful. All too soon, the lights were out and we were tucked into bed.

More than an hour had passed and I was still staring at the ceiling unable to sleep. I rolled my head to the side, and to my surprise, Jason rolled his toward me at the same moment. We stared into one another's eyes for a long time.

"I meant what I said earlier," I whispered.

Jason propped himself up on an elbow. "And that would be?"

"I not only couldn't do this without you, none of this would've even been possible without you."

"Remember when we were kids, playing hide and seek in the clothes racks?"

"Yes," I puzzled.

"Well, no doubt in a different way—I was only five—but I knew then that I loved you, that we would somehow share our lives together. I could have never predicted the path, but I knew that what we shared was special. _We_ had to be."

"You knew all that when you were five. But that's not what I'm saying—you've managed to change the subject again."

"Who, me?" His smile glistened in the moonlight.

"I want to know what you're thinking, how you feel."

"You always know how I feel. Remember that time—"

"No Jason, no diversion." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm scared. They're going to cut me open—a knife that close to Elina scares me beyond words. What if they don't get her out in time? What if something happens—I don't know. It seems like there are so many things that could go wrong. And then there is you. I'm afraid for you, because no matter what happens to me, or Elina, it's beyond your control—you'll be helpless and I know that has to frighten you."

He pressed forward and gently kissed me on the forehead. "Sure, I'm apprehensive as hell about putting your life in the hands of someone else." He closed his eyes for a moment. "It scares me to death," he whispered. "Remember—"

"Jason—"

"Hear me out."

"Okay, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. I'm the one who's done all the stupid stuff in our relationship."

I placed my fingers across his lips. "We've both had our moments, but in the end, we're where we're supposed to be—together."

"Remember when you said you couldn't exist without me? Well, it goes both ways. I couldn't face a day without you—sure, I've messed up at times, but you are my heart—what makes it beat." His eyes tightened. "I'm scared, not for me, but for you, I can't let anything happen to you." He slipped his arm under my pillow and slid me closer. "I love you with all my heart."

He fell asleep a short time later. He'd confirmed what I already knew, that he was afraid of losing control, depending on someone else if it came to that. He also made the wrong choice, to protect me, not Elina. Hopefully, Doctor Wilkinson was right and this would be just another routine procedure, but what if it wasn't? I looked across the room to Jason's dresser. There, bathed in moonlight, the pamphlet that the doctor had given us on a C-section delivery.

### * * *

After breakfast the following day, I fell asleep on the sofa, basking in the warm winter sunshine. Tomorrow would be the day we met our little Elina.

"Hey, sleepyhead," someone said, shaking me gently.

"Jason?" I fluttered my eyes open. "There you are." I wrapped my arm around his neck, drew him down to me and kissed him. "I've missed you."

Jason smoothed back my hair and kissed my cheek. "We have company."

I looked past him to Cathy and Alex. "Hey guys. What's up?"

"We have a surprise," Jason said.

"Do I smell paint? How long have I been asleep?"

Jason gently swept me up into his arms. "Alex and Cathy helped me put it together—actually, I think Alex and me helped Cathy put it together."

"Don't be ridiculous," Cathy said, "it was all Jason's idea. We just helped."

"It? What it?" I complained.

"Right this way." Jason, with me in his arms and Cathy and Alex in tow, walked to the base of the stairs. As we started up the steps, Jason said, "You have to close your eyes if you want it to be a surprise."

I closed my eyes as we reached the top of the stairs. The smell of paint was stronger now. Jason and I had picked out furniture for Elina's nursery, but somehow the three of them must have managed to paint the room without me knowing. It didn't seem possible although, now that I thought about it, the door to my old room, the planned nursery, had been closed for some time. Jason set my feet on the floor and steadied me as I regained my balance.

"Okay," Jason said, "open your eyes."

"Oh my God!" I glanced over at Alex and Cathy, then up at Jason. "It's amazing!"

"Well go on," Cathy encouraged.

I grasped Jason's hand and we stepped into Elina's nursery, more like a fairytale in pink. Three walls were a soft subtle pink with the fourth a deep pink, but that's not what grabbed your attention. You had to look closely, but over the dark pink wall were roses from every imaginable perspective somehow blended into the background.

"Is it dry?" I asked. "Can I touch it?"

"Yes," Jason confirmed after glancing Cathy's way.

I stepped closer to the wall and gently traced the outline of a large rose that drooped with a drop of dew that appeared wet—real. I turned toward Cathy. "How in the world did you do this?"

"Honestly, it was part of a tattoo I did for a client. Not bad for a first try with an airbrush, right?"

"I don't know what to say, it's stunning." I scooted over to one of the adjoining walls. "And the fairies are so cute. It's almost like they're really flying." I turned toward their smiling faces. "Thank you doesn't seem sufficient. It must have taken hours—how did you find the time?"

"When you were asleep," Alex said and then added, "We had plenty of time."

I stuck out my tongue as they all three laughed. I turned slowly to take in the whole room. "It's like its own little world. Is that a rainbow?" I pointed to the ceiling. Somehow, and I have no idea how, Cathy managed to paint a rainbow with nothing but shades of white that transitioned to pink when it turned down the wall.

Cathy clapped her hands in quick short little motions with the excitement of a school girl. "I'm so glad you like it. I hope Elina—" Cathy broke off mid-sentence and looked momentarily lost. "And there's more," she prompted. "Jason."

"Close your eyes again," Jason said.

"Okay." I closed them as Jason left the room and his footsteps faded down the stairs. I couldn't help wonder about Cathy's sudden change. Had she seen something in the future? What could possibly be wrong with the room? She was a perfectionist, for sure, but it seemed more pronounced than just a flaw in the paint. Should I be worried? I would have to ask her about it later, Jason's footsteps entered the room. He went over near the window. I turned in that direction.

"You're not peeking?" he accused.

"No! You more or less stomped across the room. I was just following the sound."

"She doesn't miss much," Cathy added.

"Okay, open your eyes."

In front of me, a white wooden rocking chair that matched the baby furniture Jason and I had picked out. "It's perfect." I eased over and Jason and Alex helped me down onto the chair. I rocked back and forth a few times. It was perfect. "Help me up?"

Jason and Alex got me back on my feet and then I gave all three of them a hug. Jason carefully swept me up in his arms and we returned to the parlor. Jason, Alex and Cathy had soda while I sucked on ice chips. We talked about life with Elina and Cathy and Alex's wedding plans. It was nice to hang out like any other normal friends. After a while, Jason and Alex headed to the kitchen for refills. It gave me a minute alone with Cathy.

"Should I be worried?" I began.

"Worried? Why?"

"Upstairs, in the nursery, it seemed like we lost you for a moment."

"No, I was just excited to see your reaction, you know."

"You're not a very good liar. Is it that bad?"

She sat down on the sofa next to me. "Only you would notice. I guess we know each other too well." Her head sank until her forehead was resting in her palms and she was looking at the floor.

"You're scaring me," I confessed.

She looked up quickly. "No, don't be afraid. I don't want to rob you of the joy and anticipation you feel."

"But?" I pressed.

"You know, you said it yourself, I can't always put what I see in to perspective." She straightened up and scooted closer. "It was just a flash—a flicker really—darkness, pain, sweetness—a silver lining, I'm sure of it."

"Elina's birth?"

"Sure, of course—what else could it be?"

"Could what be?" Jason said as he and Alex returned from the kitchen.

"Nothing," Cathy said as she stood. She walked toward Alex. "I think we should let these two get their rest, they've got a big day coming up."

"Right," Alex said, picking up her not to subtle hint, "that's tomorrow—whoa!" He turned to Jason. "I'm expecting a cigar."

Jason pointed across the room to the small table. There was a wooden box of cigars sitting in place of the chess set.

"And keep us posted," Cathy added.

"Absolutely," Jason and I said simultaneously.

I noticed a brief eye contact between Jason and Cathy.

"I'll walk you out," Jason said.

Cathy came back to the sofa, bent down and hugged me. "Don't worry," she whispered. "I love you." She stood. "See you soon. I can't wait to meet Elina."

"Second that," Alex added.

"I'll be right back," Jason said and then walked them out to Alex's car.

I scooted down on the sofa so I could peek out the window. Jason lingered, talking to Cathy as I feared. What didn't she tell me? Was something wrong with Elina? Jason was standing in the entrance to the parlor by the time I managed to scoot back up to where I'd been sitting.

"That worried," he presumed.

"Should I be? What did Cathy say?"

He walked across the room, sat down next to me and then pulled me into his arms. "She just told me to keep an eye on you."

"Did she seem worried?"

"No, why? Did I miss something?"

I stretched up and kissed him on his bristly cheek. "No. I love you." I fell asleep in his arms.

I awoke sometime later to his quiet voice. I opened my eyes as he hung up his cell phone. "That was Doctor Wilkinson checking up on you," he said before I could ask.

"What'd you tell her?"

"The truth. I told her you were worried, afraid."

I frowned, but he was right.

"She said we could go to the Emergency Room if it would make you feel better. I don't mind, honest." He pulled up his cell phone. "She said she would call ahead."

I reached up and pressed his phone down. "No, I'd rather spend our last night in one another's arms than in a hospital bed alone."

"You wouldn't be alone, I'd be right there with you."

"Not like this." I stretched up again and kissed him."

"No, I don't imagine so." He brought my lips to his and we kissed again. "Did I ever tell you how much I love you?"

"Tell me again."

We stayed in each other's arms and watched the sunset. When the sky finally turned dark he carried me upstairs for one last sponge bath. Afterward, he lit candles and put them all around the room and then gently laid me in our bed. He ate his dinner in bed next to me because I wasn't hungry. He tried to get me to nibble on his leftover Chinese, but I just couldn't stomach the thought of food.

"Look," he said, motioning toward the window, "it's snowing." He raced downstairs and flipped on the floodlights. When he got back, he snuggled down under the covers next to me.

"It's beautiful," I said. "Thank you for the rocking chair, the nursery, marrying me, giving me hope, life—well you know."

"I do." He kissed me passionately and without taking his eyes off me said, "Yes, you are beautiful."

"Do you think we should be worried?" I asked.

"The snow? Nah, they said it's not supposed to last."

"You know what your mom says about the weatherman."

"We're fine." He stroked the side of my face and hair with the back of his fingers. "Just try to sleep; I've got you from here."

"You've had me from the day we met," I murmured. I let my eyes close and soaked in being with Jason and the tenderness that defined our beautiful relationship. "Goodnight sweetheart," I whispered.

"Sleep tight."

### * * *

I awoke some time later, still in Jason's arms. My stomach fluttered and growled. Before I could react, Jason sat up in bed.

"Hungry much?" He joked in a groggy voice.

"No, I don't think so."

He pushed back my hair. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't Elina's stomach. What's going on?"

"I don't know." I cradled Elina in my hands, running them gently over my skin. At one point, my muscles fluttered, but that wasn't anything new, they'd been doing that off and on since the morning. "I think we're okay."

"Think? That doesn't work for me—"

"Jason." I pointed out the window to the trees that were still lit by the floodlights. There was at least six inches of snow on top of the barren tangle of branches. "Maybe your mom was right—about the weatherman."

Jason turned abruptly. "Do you need help getting dressed?"

"I'm not helpless. What are you thinking?"

"I'm going to warm up the Rover, then we're headed for the hospital." He pulled on his pants.

"Maybe we're overreacting. I'd hate to get stuck in the middle of nowhere."

"The Rover will get us to the hospital, it might take a while, but it'll get us there. I don't want to take a chance on getting stranded out here—the middle of nowhere as you put it." Jason's phone rang. "Hey, Mom... Yeah, pretty much what we're thinking. I'm headed out to warm up the Rover and then we're outta here..." He propped the phone against his shoulder as he pulled on his shoes. "Listen, Mom, I gotta get the Rover started, here's Izzy." He handed me the phone. "I'll be right back."

"Okay."

He raced out of the room and down the stairs.

"Hi, Nancy."

"How are you, dear?"

"Just a little sick to my stomach. I didn't eat much, I think that's all it is."

"Stay calm—I know that's impossible, but try. You don't want to get worked up and go into labor."

Suddenly a powerful tightness gripped my abdomen, stealing my breath. It was all I could do to keep from screaming. When it passed, I took a deep breath as beads of sweat trickled down my face.

"Are you alright, Izzy? Did something happen?"

"No, I'm fine. I hate to go, but I need both hands to get dressed."

I shielded my mouth from the phone and panted through another much shorter muscle spasm.

"I understand. Don't be afraid, you'll do just fine. Goodbye."

I looked down. I was sitting on bloody sheets. "Nancy!"

"Yes."

"Thanks for everything. I love you guys."

"We love you too. See you soon."

"Bye." Another more powerful contraction than the first gripped me. I screamed in agony. I grabbed myself as a gush of blood followed the contraction. "JASON!" His footsteps raced up the stairs as I punched in 911 on his cell phone.

"What's your emergency, police or fire department?" a woman's voice said.

"Medical!" I gasped. Just then, Jason raced into the room.

"Oh my God!" Our frantic eyes met for a moment before Jason snatched the bloody phone out of my trembling hand. "Lie down," he ordered.

"I called 911, they're transferring the call for a medical emergency."

"Good, you did good," Jason said. He tried to sound reassuring, but I saw him grimace when he saw the bloody sheets. "Yes! Yes, we're having a baby, only she can't deliver the baby. She's scheduled for a C-section tomorrow... Izzy, her name is Izzy Whitaker, she's bleeding," and in a softer voice, "a lot." While he waited or was listening, he ran around to my side of the bed and then pulled the pillow out from under my head. "Hot water? No! She can't deliver the baby that way, the placenta is in the way. I have her lying down, I'm going to prop up her feet... Yes, Doctor Wilkinson is her doctor... how long?" He propped the phone on his shoulder and ripped the pillowcase off of his pillow. "Ok. Hello? Hello?" Jason tossed the dark phone onto his side of the bed.

"What's going on?" I groaned as another weaker contraction began. "I can't be in labor, Jason! I can't!"

"You're going to be alright. I won't let anything happen to you." He grimaced as he pulled back my nightshirt and then pressed the wad of torn pillowcase between my legs.

As he lifted my bottom to stuff his pillow under me another contraction gripped me. I fought it, I really did, but I broke down with a paralyzing scream.

"Hang on." Jason stuffed my pillow under my legs so that my head was now at the lowest point of my body. He grasped my hands as the contraction subsided. His eyes confirmed what I felt—another gush of blood soaked the pillowcase he'd pressed between my legs.

A wave of nausea followed by lightheadedness passed.

"Ice—no snow, it'll slow the bleeding."

I grabbed his hand before he could escape. "Stop! Jason stop."

"No, cold slows the bleeding—you know that."

I pulled him back to the bedside. "How long did they say the ambulance would take?"

Jason sank to a knee next to me and whispered, "Forty-five minutes _if_ they can get through."

I wiped my bloody hands off on the sheets and then wrapped one behind his head and pulled him close. I kissed him. "You know I love you, I always will, but don't you see, the choice has been made."

"No! There has to be another option." He jumped up and yelled, "Elizabeth! Benjamin! Izzy needs you! I need you!" He pivoted in a slow circle with his arms outstretched hoping for a miracle that wasn't coming.

"Stop." I pulled him back and then stroked his cheek.

Tears spilled from his eyes and streamed down his face. He broke down in uncontainable sobbing.

Our tears mingled as I kissed him. "You have to save her," I whispered.

"What?" He jolted back in disbelief.

"It's the only thing to do—the right thing to do." I grimaced as another weaker contraction took my breath away and when it passed, the flow of blood again. "There isn't time. You can't let me kill our daughter."

"But you want me to kill you."

"My fate is already sealed."

He resisted, but gave in and let me kiss him and finally returned the kiss with all the love and tenderness within him. "I can't. What you ask is impossible. I thought you knew that."

"One thing I know, is nothing is impossible for you, you can do this. The pamphlet is on your dresser, your field knife in the upper right-hand drawer—and one of your belts, a leather one."

"You expect me to gut you with nothing more than a pamphlet to keep me from killing you?"

I kissed the palm of his hand. "Go get the things you need. Hurry, for Elina." While Jason quickly gathered everything, I thought back to what Cathy had said, 'darkness, pain,' but I couldn't see the sweetness or silver lining. Maybe it wasn't meant for me, but for Jason and Elina.

Jason returned a short time later with the things he needed plus a dishpan full of snow. He set them on the bed next to me. I pulled my nightgown up over the top of my baby bump and tucked it in under my breasts. Next, I pressed the knife into Jason's hand and then doubled over the end of the belt. We both examined the pamphlet. What was there lacked detail. Our eyes met and we both froze. While our gaze lingered on one another, I traced a line with a bloody finger across my lower abdomen. When I blinked, Jason glanced down.

"I can't," he sobbed.

"I know, it's impossible. I'll help you—together we can bring Elina into this world." I put the belt in my mouth and clamped down on it. Then, I folded Jason's fingers around the knife and brought it up to the left end of the line I'd drawn across my abdomen, but when I tried to press it against my skin, Jason resisted. He was sobbing almost uncontrollably. Another weaker contraction ebbed. As it did, I mumbled through the belt, "Kiss me."

As Jason leaned forward to kiss me, I pressed the knife into my flesh. I bit down on the belt with all my strength to keep from screaming.

Jason recoiled and looked down at the knife protruding from my abdomen. "No! No!"

I pulled against Jason's resistance, but couldn't move the knife. Jason started to extract the blade. I spit out the belt. "Stop!" I gasped. A tremor shot through me. "You have to help—I can't do this alone—I can't! Please, Jason, do it for me—for Elina." I gasped with pain.

Jason leaned forward, kissed me and then put the folded belt back in my mouth. I almost bit through the belt as the blade slid across my abdomen. I couldn't see much, but I saw Jason's ashen face as he leaned forward to get another look at the pamphlet. "Forgive me," he uttered as the blade slid across my abdomen again. As my teeth clenched down into the belt, there was a trace of sweetness in my mouth. The blood test that Doctor Diaz had done, did I have venom? The strange taste quickly faded into the rusty taste of blood. I bit down again as the blade moved again, but I was delirious with pain and couldn't tell which way he was cutting.

Suddenly, my stomach sank and Jason emerged with a bloody, blue baby. Were we too late?

Jason pulled away the shreds of embryonic sack and struck Elina between the shoulder blades. She gasped and started to cry.

I let the belt slip from my mouth and wiped my eyes. "Let me see her," I wheezed.

Jason wiped her off with a towel and placed her in my arms, but quickly returned to my wound.

I stared at Elina in disbelief. We actually did it. She was alive and perfect except for a small cut in her right ear where the blade went too deep. Jason filled a towel with snow and pressed it against my wound in hopes of saving my life, but I could sense that time had already passed. My vision blurred for a moment and then Jason was next to me with Elina between us. His eyes were red and swollen.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should have—"

"We did it," I murmured, "Elina's alive—our daughter is alive." The room spun momentarily and I lost my bearings. I think my eyes may have rolled back.

"Izzy! Izzy! Stay with me, Elina and I need you." He leaned over and as we kissed, his arms tightened around us, pulling us closer. The three of us were a family in that moment.

My heart skipped a beat and the sweet taste in my mouth returned along with a burning sensation in the far reaches of my extremities. I could not bear to go through the change again. Even if I did, I could never expose Elina to the dangers of that existence.

"Jason!" I gasped, weakly.

His hand smoothed back my hair. "I'm right here."

"Promise me you'll take care of her—love her. What happened here isn't her fault."

He nodded acceptance. "I'll love her with all of my heart that doesn't belong to you."

The room grew darker, blurred at the edges of my vision. "Cremate my remains—promise."

"Burn you?" He shook his head. "After this, you'd ask me to—"

"Promise." I tasted his lips—his tears and then he was gone. Elina's cry faded into the darkness.

### Chapter 28

_-16 years later-_

I grabbed the chrome poll at the end of my seat as the bus slowly came to a stop and the doors folded open. I slipped past the driver and started down the steps.

"I hope you have a happy birthday, Elina," Mrs. Woodward, the bus driver, said.

I turned back because I knew she was one of the few people who probably actually meant it. "Thanks." I forced a smile and then stepped out onto the apron of our driveway.

"You're a good kid," she added. The doors closed and the bus started away.

"Yeah, happy death day!" Tommy Curley yelled from one of the windows as they flashed by.

I grit my teeth to control my temper, like Dad asked, but flipped him off to a flood of laughter from the other kids on the bus. I bent down and picked up a rock, but hesitated as I thought of Mrs. Woodward. It was her bus, not Tommy's. The bus disappeared over the hill and I was alone. I dropped the rock, grabbed the mail and then headed down the driveway—Grammy and Grandpa's driveway. Dad and I had lived with them my entire life—at least until they died.

Grammy died when I was young, maybe five or six. Like everyone else, she truly believed my mother was an angel, but that's where the similarity ended—she didn't blame me for what happened to Mom. She was more like a mother to me than a grandmother and I missed her very much. She had a way of calming me, something I had difficulty with on my own.

Grandpa—Coach, was the best. He and Dad lived and breathed football. He taught me the positions when we played with my dolls, and strategy when I got older. Dad and Grandpa got to coach together for three years before Grandpa's heart attack. I think almost every kid he ever coached showed up for his funeral. He was a wonderful, gentle man and between him and Dad, they'd taught me everything I knew about the game and dealing with adversity.

I reached the house—Dad's old Rover was gone. On this particular day, I knew exactly where he was and then I noticed my bike under the porch. For a mid-December day, it wasn't that cold. I glanced up the driveway. The Boonsboro Cemetery wasn't far; maybe if I caught up with him, we could visit Mom together. My company might make it easier for him—might. He was undeniably the best Dad in the entire world and I knew he loved me, but there was always a hint of sadness in his eyes when he looked at me. Maybe my being there for him would help _us_. I slid my backpack under the railing, onto the back porch and pulled out my old bike. The tires still had air in them, so I was off.

### * * *

I turned off the main road onto the one-lane strip of broken asphalt that led to the cemetery. The cold ground and warm air had formed a layer of fog that made it difficult to see, but I spotted the outline of Dad's Rover at the far end of the parking pull off. "Crap," I said, remembering that Dad had an appointment with the oncologist earlier in the day. He was guarded about his condition, but even I could tell the appointment wasn't going to be good news, more of a _how bad was it going to be_ appointment. I coasted up along the back side of the Rover to conceal my presence. Even though the windows were fogged, I could see paperwork on the passenger's seat, probably the doctor's report. The foggy windows suggested that Dad had lingered for a while. I hope that didn't mean the news was worse than he expected. Mom, the doctor's appointment—this was a bad idea.

I rolled forward on my bike so I could see across the hood and the sea of holiday greenery that decorated the majority of the gravestones. Through the muted tones of gray and brown, I could barely make out Dad's silhouette, slumped down on the stone bench at the furthest reach of an old oak's heavy branches, directly across from Mom's tomb. It was odd, out of place for this humble cemetery. It was one of only three above ground tombs, but what I was told, when the original owner offered it to Dad, he insisted Mom be buried in it. Truthfully, a tomb was kind of creepy in a horror movie kind of way.

Dad slid off the edge of the bench to one knee and gathered the flowers that were scattered on the ground around him. I didn't need to see them to know they were white roses, one for each year of my life—more accurately my mother's death. There would be sixteen this year. To my surprise, he unlocked the steel gate and went inside. A few minutes later, he emerged without the roses. He locked the gate and then collapsed back against the wall. I shook my head. I was right, this was a very bad idea—an intrusion. I pushed off the Rover and started toward home as a light rain began to fall. Figured, it always rained at times like this.

About halfway home, I noticed the name Curley on one of the mailboxes up ahead. As I rode by, I opened my hand and smacked it as hard as I could, sending the crumpled remains flying into the underbrush along the side of the road. "Take that, Tommy. You're just lucky it wasn't you."

### * * *

I'd just put the ground beef on the stove when the Rover turned into the driveway. A few minutes later, the back door opened. "That you, Dad?"

He shuffled into the kitchen and tried to discretely slip the envelope I'd seen on the passenger's seat under some papers at the end of the counter, under where the keys hung. "How was school?"

"I didn't get in any fights. What'd the doctor say?"

He stared at me momentarily until his eyes began to well up with tears. He looked away. "You know, just more tests—and that's not what I meant about school. What's for dinner?"

It wasn't an answer, but I'd done enough intruding. "I'm trying tacos. How's that sound?"

"Not too spicy," he cautioned.

"I remember." I tore off the end of an envelope of seasoning and stirred half of it into the pan of sizzling ground beef. "You look tired, why don't you chill. I'll call you when it's ready."

"Thanks. It has been a long day." He hung up his coat and then started a slow, seemingly painful shuffle toward the family room.

I slipped in next to him as he passed and gave him a kiss on the cheek, which was still wet with tears. He paused, our eyes met and a tear ran down his cheek.

"I'm sorry," he said in a raspy voice. With that, his floodgates opened.

"No Dad, I'm sorry, sorry I killed Mom."

He wrapped me in his arms. "No," he drew out the word with such agony in his voice, "you didn't kill your mother. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

I was struggling not to cry too. "It doesn't matter what you say, Dad, I can count the days and the years." And the flowers, I thought. "I just wish there was something I could do."

He clung to me in what became an awkward embrace—at least for me.

"I think your tacos are burning."

"Crap!" I slipped out of his arms and escaped to the stove while he continued into the family room.

I wasn't a terrible cook—I wasn't great either—no culinary imagination. It was pretty obvious that after the October doctor's visit Dad had picked up the pace on teaching me adulting. I'd always had a basic set of chores, the regular stuff a parent would give a kid to teach them responsibility; but after October, he had me helping with bills, the budget, grocery shopping and more recently cooking. Clearly, he was teaching me how to get by on my own. The question was, how soon would _that_ hammer fall?

Dad was quiet during dinner so I filled him in on the school gossip, petty stuff that neither he nor I cared about. "I almost threw a rock at the bus this afternoon."

"What? You promised to—"

"I stopped myself—it wasn't Mrs. Woodward's fault."

"What wasn't Mrs. Woodward's fault?" He eyed me suspiciously.

"Just a kid on the bus making fun of my birthday, same ol' crap." No need to tell him about the mailbox.

"I'm sorry you have to put up with that, but I'm proud of you for not lashing out."

"So, the tacos?" I asked to change the subject.

"Good, they were good."

"Good, is that why you didn't finish your last one?"

"No, really, they were perfect. You even got the seasoning just right."

"Thanks." I grabbed his plate and stacked it on top of mine. "I got 'em. You look tired, you should rest."

He shook his head and picked up the empty serving plate. "Goes faster with two."

"Okay," I huffed, "but you dry."

"Deal."

I picked up a towel to dry the skillet as we were finishing. "Go rest Dad, you can hardly stand."

"Alright already." He held up his hands as if surrendering.

By the time I'd wiped off the table and counters, Dad was lying back on the couch with his earbuds in. He looked so frail. I decided to wait to ask him about the doctor's appointment. In truth, I didn't really want to know, but I knew eventually I would have to. So, while Dad rested, I started in on my Algebra homework. It turned out to be much easier than I expected and I finished before Dad's playlist was over. I glanced down the counter to the envelope he'd brought in with him. Maybe if I knew the results before he told me, I could be strong for him—encouraging like he'd always been for me. At least that's how I justified snooping.

The test results didn't make a lot of sense, numbers and percentages that I had no baseline to compare against. I pulled out my phone to look them up online as I turned the page. "A month!" I gasped. Tears spilled over my eyelids. How could he keep this from me? I glanced up at the clock—his playlist would end soon. Despite mixed emotions, hurt, anger, sadness, I had to try to keep it together, he deserved that. I quickly washed off my face at the sink, and then joined Dad on the sofa to wait for the rest of my miserable world to come crashing down.

"Hey," I said as Dad stirred and then slowly opened his eyes. When he saw me, his expression was so odd, a mixture of fear, apprehension and sadness I imagined.

"You haven't been there the whole time?" He pulled out the earbuds and sat up.

"No, homework. Besides, your playlist lasts one hour and twenty-three minutes." I tried to remain calm, keep my voice from wavering.

"You're angry," he said flatly and then glanced down at the papers in my hand. His shoulders drooped.

I shook the papers at him. "According to these, I have every right to be angry! How could you keep something like this from me?" I slammed the papers on the coffee table and stood, turning my back on him to hide the tears that threatened to spill over. So much for keeping it together.

He reached up and grasped my hand, but I pulled it away. "I was going to tell you, if you hadn't gone snooping—no, I don't mean that, I'm sorry. It just didn't seem like good dinner conversation."

I wiped my eyes and turned back to him. "A month!" When I saw his tears, I couldn't contain mine any longer and broke down—something I seldom, if ever, allowed myself to do—and never in front of anyone, it's just, this was my dad.

He gently grasped my hand and I sank down on the sofa next to him. We just sat there, watching each other fall apart—it was unnerving, exposing. Dad finally wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve and took a labored breath. "Before we talk about my health, at dinner it seemed like there was something on your mind. Can I help?"

I shifted in my chair. "It was nothing important, just football."

"That's important, I know how much you wanted to play this year—I know the School Board was going to approve it, but when you punched the Curley kid, well—"

"Punched? I knocked his ass out." I jumped up, pounding my fist into my other palm.

Dad laughed, a laugh that ended in a coughing spell.

"I'm not sorry, he deserved it."

"Yes, as I recall he did, but you have to learn to look at the big picture."

"What _'big picture_ '?"

"Well, let's suppose you didn't punch—'knock his ass out'," he corrected. "I'm certain the season would have turned out differently. You're clearly a better quarterback than Tommy Curley—we ended up, what three and seven on the season?"

I nodded.

"I think with you on the team, we probably would have been seven and three—maybe even better, but it's more than that."

"What's more important than that? That would have given you a shot at the championship, at least regionals."

He coughed again. "Big picture," he repeated, raising his arms outstretched. "What about the seniors? It was their last season, they worked hard, they deserved the payoff for all their hard work. You could have given them that."

"So it's my fault—"

"Yes sweetheart, it was your fault." He hesitated but added, "and I would have been able to coach you. As it turns out, we'll never get that chance."

"Nice, put it all on me!" I ground my teeth. "Why don't you go ahead and say I killed Mom too! I know that's how you feel."

"You're wrong." His head sank into his hands in obvious anguish.

I slid onto the sofa next to him. "I'm sorry, it's just—"

He looked up and then wrapped his arms around me. "That temper of yours. If you can learn to channel it, I don't think there's anything you can't do." He patted me on the back. "I love you."

I rested my forehead in the crook of his neck. "I love you too, Dad. I'm sorry I disappointed you."

"Never," he whispered. He eased me back to arm's length for a moment and then sat back. "I suppose we should talk about the road ahead."

"A month?" I murmured still in shock.

He shook his head gently. "I wouldn't put too much stock in the report."

"Less than a month?" I felt like an emotional dishrag at this point and gave in to tears again.

Dad scooted closer and put his arm around me. He seemed to know when was enough and eased me back again. "There are things you don't know about our life—things you need to know."

"I know Dad, it has haunted me my entire life."

He shook his head. "You like Aunt Cathy and Uncle Alex, right?"

"Sure, they're okay—even though you sent me to their place every summer since I was seven."

He nodded. "That's true, but not for the reason you think."

"How do you know what I think?"

"Don't you think I know about the sideways glances, the unspoken condemnation—the self-guilt?"

"Yeah, I get that, all the time, but—"

"As do I."

"You? People don't blame you, they blame me."

His posture had withered again, but he forced himself to sit more erect and took a long, slow breath of resolve. I was hoping—expecting some kind of revelation, but he said, "If you agree, I thought I'd ask them to take you in."

"Aunt Cathy and Uncle Alex?"

"Yes. They're good people, friends. Friends I trust even with something as precious as you."

"I won't leave you, not—" I couldn't finish the sentence.

He grasped my hand and gently stroked the back. "I wish you would, it would be easier—"

"No! Absolutely not."

"You are your mother's daughter," he said in a whisper.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He looked up from our hands into my face. "You know the tower lights on Lambs Knoll?"

"On the other side of town, right? What does that have to do with anything—no wait, isn't that where the house—"

"Where you were born. Yes." He took another labored breath. "Tomorrow, tomorrow we're going to take a long overdue ride to the Faulkner house."

"Faulkner, isn't that Mom's maiden name?"

"Yes," he said with surprise. "They gave us the house as a wedding present, but I've always considered it their house, their lineage."

"So then—"

"Tomorrow, sweetheart." He struggled to his feet and then leaned down and gave me a kiss on the forehead. He walked slowly toward the stairs, but stopped and turned back at the kitchen table. "I'm sorry it has come to this, so quickly."

I wasn't one to show emotion—vulnerability, but I got up and raced across the room and into his arms. "I love you, Dad."

He hugged me. "Oh, I almost forgot." He led me over to the coat rack at the bottom of the stairs. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small box and then handed it to me. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

Inside the box was a double open heart pendant of diamonds on a thin silver chain. The diamond where the hearts crossed was larger, and heart shaped. "It's beautiful." I handed it to him, lifted my hair off my shoulders and turned my back to him. It took him a minute to close the clasp, but when he did, I turned, kissed him on the cheek and said, "I'll never take it off."

He kissed me and then started up the steps.

"Dad, wasn't there a prescription in the doctor's papers? Did you get it filled?"

"I didn't get to the pharmacy today. We can stop by and get it filled tomorrow."

"You sure?"

He nodded. "It can wait. Goodnight."

"Night, Dad. I think I'm going to stay up a little longer."

He turned back to me. "Don't dwell on it, sweetheart. Tomorrow your questions will be answered."

"I'll try. Goodnight."

### Chapter 29

I sat alone at the kitchen table, sipping my hot chocolate as the sun crested the eastern mountains—Lambs Knoll to be exact. You couldn't see it from where we lived, but I knew of it if for no other reason than History class, when we studied the Civil War battle that happened there. I couldn't picture the house Dad told me about, his and Mom's house—The 'Faulkner house' as he called it. This wasn't about the house, though, but what happened there sixteen years ago. There were footsteps on the stairs behind me.

"You're up early," Dad said.

"I really couldn't sleep," I confessed.

He patted me on the shoulder on his way to the coffee pot. "I understand."

"I made a new pot—hope I got the measurement right."

"I'm sure it'll be fine." He lingered at the counter after pouring his usual morning cup of coffee. His seemingly blank stare out the window toward the creek made me wonder if he was reconsidering. He finally glanced back at me.

"It's important Dad—to me. I don't care what people think, it's important to me."

He smiled genuinely. "You're beautiful with your hair down. Your mother would be envious."

"I've seen her picture." I pointed to their wedding picture that hung over the fireplace in the family room. "She was beautiful. I pale in comparison."

His cough turned to a chuckle. "No, you're beautiful in your own right."

Okay, this was awkward, not a topic I expected or wanted to have. I drank the last of my now lukewarm hot chocolate. "I'll run upstairs and get dressed so I'll be ready whenever you are."

"No need to rush. I want to finish my coffee and this bagel to settle my stomach." He pulled out the chair across from me and sat. He took another bite of his cinnamon raisin bagel and then another sip of coffee. He glanced over the rim, through the steam, before he set the cup on the table. "I'm pretty sure I know what you think, but why don't you tell me, that way I can just fill in the missing pieces."

That distinctly sounded like an attempt at a diversion, a way to tell me no more than I needed. That's not what I wanted. Besides, why was this such a big deal, so secretive—I killed Mom. I just wanted to know how and why? "No Dad, I want the truth, not bits and pieces that I have to try and put together."

He nodded. "Where would you like to start?"

Okay, I wasn't ready for that one. "The hospital. Grammy always referred to what happened at the hospital in Frederick. It's why she was certain Mom was an angel."

He took another sip of coffee and got a nostalgic look on his face. "There was an accident—"

"You were hit by a car." I knew that much.

"We were hit by a car, your mother and I. It was just a random accident, but it nearly—should have killed me."

"But not Mom. She didn't get a scratch, right?" I knew the answer, but I was testing him—to see if he was really going to be honest.

"That's not really the point," he said.

Strike one for the truth.

"She did CPR on me until we reached the hospital, by helicopter no less."

"It must have been really bad."

"Like I said, I should have died right there on the sidewalk." He looked at me, measuring I was certain. "It was a miracle she kept me alive until we got to the hospital."

"A miracle." Strike two for the truth.

He frowned. "What she did in the hospital is even more incredible." He cocked his head slightly to the side, still measuring I think. "I'm not sure how far we're going to get if you don't believe in miracles—I thought certainly you—"

"Incredible things happen. I know that, but miracles? You're telling me this whole thing is just some miracle?"

"No, I didn't say that at all." He paused for a minute. "Your mother was holding my spine in place while she was breathing for me. The doctors said it was—"

"A miracle, right?"

"Impossible, humanly impossible."

"The doctors? How long did she do this breathing and holding your spine in place?" It sounded even more ridiculous saying it out loud.

"Hour upon hour, upon hour. If she even flinched, my heart stopped. They brought in a specialist from Baltimore and after he looked at the x-rays, he said there was nothing they could do. I would live as long as Izzy—your mom—could hold out."

"But you survived, you both survived."

He nodded before continuing. "I was quite literally draining the life out of her—she should have stopped long before—but she wouldn't. She kept holding out for some kind of miracle.

'For me, she was all there was, her sweet breath in my lungs, her cool lips and her whisper—'I love you' between breaths." He shuttered for a moment. "We were both going to die. I have no doubt of that. I tried to slip away so she would survive, but she coaxed me back with her sweet, 'I love yous'. And so, the hours passed."

"Hours," I said in partial disbelief, but that was certainly a miracle. "Grammy saw the two of you like that. It's why she thought Mom was an angel."

"And your Grandpa and ultimately the Faulkners."

"Mom's parents. They must have been pissed that you were killing their daughter."

Dad chuckled. "No, quite the opposite. It was her choice and they supported her one hundred percent, no matter the risk—the consequences."

That was probably meant as a not so subtle lesson. "So what happened? How'd the two of you walk out of the hospital?"

"You've seen the old footage," he surmised.

"The candlelight vigils both at the hospital and at school—sure, I've seen them."

Dad took a weary breath. "Elizabeth, Izzy's mother, returned with a small vial of golden liquid—a potion if you will—"

"So wait, I've got issues with the whole miracle thing and now you want me to believe in a Snow White like potion?" Strike three. "Honest! You told me you were going to be honest!" My face flushed with anger.

"I can't make you believe it. I can only tell you the truth, like I promised."

This was Dad, dying Dad, why couldn't I just accept what he was telling me? I wasn't prepared for this—this seemed impossible, but Dad said it was the truth. I pushed back my hair and pulled it over to the side. "Okay, I deserved that. I'm sorry. I trust you, I really do, it just—"

"Hard to believe. I understand, but that doesn't make it a lie."

"Right. Of course, you're right. So you drank the potion and that saved you. So why doesn't everyone think Elizabeth was the angel?"

"It didn't go that way," he continued the story, "The potion wasn't complete. In fact, Elizabeth was quite sure it would kill both of us." He held up his hand to stop me from asking another question. "It needed part of what your mother was to be complete—even then, it was a long shot, but the only one we had; and more importantly, the only one your mother would accept. Live or die, it had to be together, as one. We had an old saying back then, 'all in', and your mother was, all in, no matter what."

"So if you didn't drink it—"

"Yes. Izzy added her part and then drank the potion, filling my lungs with the vapor that lingered on her breath. I will never forget the sweet taste of her ven—the potion. We were sealed off from the rest of the ICU, left alone for whatever was going to happen to take place. Hours later, we awoke in each other's arms, both alive." A warm smile filled his face.

That was a lot to process, but one thing it didn't answer was why Dad insisted I didn't kill Mom.

"So, that's what happened before you were born." He got up and refilled his coffee cup and then returned to the table. "Would you like another hot chocolate?"

"No, I don't think so." I went to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle. I returned to my chair and took a long drink. "You have to take a lot on faith—I believe you, though—but it doesn't explain—"

"Back then, the potion rejuvenated every cell in my body—made me whole again, but ironically, it will ultimately kill us both."

"Your cancer?"

He nodded. "It's eating me alive."

"Less than a month?" I gasped at the urgency in his voice.

"It's why I didn't want you to put too much stock in the doctor's report."

"Dad, that's horrible, but wait, I killed Mom, not the potion. That was my fault."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on there, you did not—I repeat—did not kill your mother."

"It wasn't the potion," I argued. "She died trying to deliver me."

Dad reached both hands across the table and we grasped hands midway. "I've asked you to accept a lot—to believe. I hope you still have an open mind."

I nodded, but what else could there be?

"You remember I told you Izzy had to add something to the potion? What she added was part of what she was and that was—" he hesitated for what seemed like an eternity, "her immortality."

We released hands as I sank back against the back of my chair. Given everything else I'd just heard—miracles, potions, why not immortality? But as I thought about it, it explained a lot about why people had mixed ideas about what really happened at the hospital and the strange stories about my mom. It certainly explained the lack of concrete information. Maybe there was a similar misconception about my birth.

"You still with me?" Dad asked.

"So that's why Grammy thought she gave up her angel wings for you?"

"In a sense, she did." Dad held out his left hand. "Angel, immortal." Then he held out his right hand. "Dying human, mortal." He placed his palms together and then held them out individually again. "Human, mortal." He shook his left hand, the one that represented Mom. "Mortal on my account and that's why she died—it was because of what she did for me."

I know my mouth fell open. What he said—showed me—how was that even possible? Yet, I believed him.

He got up and went to the sink to wash out his coffee cup and then stepped in behind my chair. He grasped my shoulders and gently worked my tense muscles. "You should get dressed. We need to go over to the house where you were born to continue the story."

I grasped one of his hands while it was still on my shoulder. "Thanks, Dad; it means a lot, knowing you trust me."

"I take it we're on the same page then?"

"Yes, of course." I patted his hand and got up from the table. "If you were going to lie, you could've done a whole lot better than miracles, potions and immortals." I walked over to the foot of the steps. "I'll just be a few minutes."

"Take your time. I'm not going to change my mind now."

I went up two steps and stopped. "You considered it?"

"Wouldn't you?"

### * * *

After a short stop at the pharmacy to fill his new prescription, we pulled off Park Hall Road onto an overgrown pair of gravel tracks that seemed to lead across a field toward the base of the mountain. Dad continued across the field and as we entered the edge of the woods, I spotted the old house. It was another surprise. I just couldn't picture Dad in such an old house. Despite its apparent hundred-plus-year-old architecture, it looked to be in perfect condition. I had expected abandoned, dilapidated shack. After all, it had been abandoned over a decade ago. We pulled up out front; Dad turned off the engine but didn't move. I had the same feeling of intruding that I had back at the cemetery, so I just waited until Dad was ready. Finally, he looked over at me.

"Dad, you're smiling. I haven't seen you smile—"

"Not what you expected I imagine," he interrupted. He reached across the console and grasped my hand. His eyes glistened with anticipation, with renewed energy. "Wait until you see the inside. Ready?"

"Absolutely."

We climbed out of the car and met at the base of the front steps. I put my foot on the first step, grabbed the railing, but Dad didn't move.

"So it was a wedding present—from Benjamin and Elizabeth Faulkner, right?"

Dad smiled again. "The Internet, right?"

"Yeah, but there's not much about them out there. What kind of people were they?"

"The kind of people who would do anything for their daughter—even let her marry me."

"I know what you've told me—and I'm trying to process that, but I would say she was the lucky one."

Dad chuckled. "No, I'm the lucky one." He started up the steps, "Shall we?"

I followed him up the stairs. He seemed enthusiastic, energized since we arrived, but as he unlocked the front door, his demeanor changed. When I reached the top of the steps, he looked at the door and then turned back toward me. His expression was torn.

"Dad, please see this through. I know it's nothing like I expected and somehow I doubt what happened here is going to be any less extraordinary, but I want—no, need to know, to understand."

He let go of the doorknob and stumbled into my arms. "I love you Elina."

"I love you too, that's why—"

"I know, the truth. Just so we're clear, you understand the secrecy required?"

"Yes. Besides, if I said anything they would probably lock me up in the loony bin—okay; bad joke, but I get it."

"Not even your Grammy or Grandpa knew the real truth. It was a secret that was meant to go with your mother and me to our graves. I'm not even completely sure I should be telling you, but I trust you and more than that, I don't want our story to end with me. You're part of it. A big part and you've yet to add your part. I know it will be amazing."

I hugged him. He was trembling with apprehension or a sudden change of heart. "It'll be okay, Dad. For me to know, to be able to relate to the special bond you and Mom shared, I want that."

He turned back to the door, turned the knob and opened the door. Beyond him, in the dim light of the old house, everything looked museum perfect. He reached down, grasped my hand and led me into the house.

"It's beautiful, not what I expected from the outside. It's quaint, like something from a history book."

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Actually, it is a registered historical landmark." He unzipped his coat and led me into a room off the main entranceway. If I remembered my history, it would be called the parlor.

While I stood, taking in the surroundings and the interesting scent, Dad went to the window and pulled back the heavy curtains. Sunlight filled the room with warmth. On the wall adjacent to the window, an antique looking sofa was bathed in the warm light.

"Your mom spent many an hour here, soaking in the sun," he chuckled, "and sleeping. Can you picture her?"

"Yes," I said, not because I could, but because it's what he wanted to hear. He led me around the rest of the main floor, explaining the decor in each room and some of the history he and Mom shared in each place. As I followed him out of the kitchen, he came to an abrupt stop at the foot of the stairs that led to the second floor.

My gaze followed his up the steps. "Mom?"

"What?" He visually stiffened.

"Are you alright? You're pale. Did you take the new prescription?"

He grabbed at his throat, pulling his collar open. He was obviously having difficulty breathing.

"Dad!" I screamed as he suddenly fell forward into my arms. I caught him and gently eased him down onto the floor.

"Can't...can't—" he grasped at his throat again and then he wasn't breathing.

I don't know why, but I glanced around the house as if someone would be there to help me. I had no idea what to do. "911," I said, but I didn't know exactly where we were, just somewhere off Park Hall Road. "Dad! Dad! What do I do?" His complexion was turning blue. "Mom, Mom resuscitated him." I slammed my fist down on the cold wooden floor. "But I have no idea how to do that."

"Calm down," a voice whispered, "you can do this."

"What! Do what?"

"Calm," the mysterious voice in my head had a soothing affect—an almost musical quality.

"I'm calm already!" I screamed at myself.

"Ease his head back, pinch his nostrils closed and with your other thumb, secure his tongue so he doesn't swallow it."

I did what I heard, and once I had his tongue secure, the voice continued, "Good, now take a deep breath and blow it into his mouth. Make sure you seal your lips around his—like a kiss."

I followed my imaginary voice's instructions and Dad's chest rose when I exhaled.

"Good, now just keep it up—pace yourself, a nice natural rhythm."

"What if he doesn't start breathing?" I can't believe I'm talking to myself. I blew another breath into his lungs.

Suddenly, there was a different, more natural sounding voice. "What is your emergency?"

I turned and stared at my cell phone on the floor next to me. On the call screen, the numbers 911. "My Dad stopped breathing!" I yelled at the phone.

"Can you do CPR?"

"Breathing, yes I'm breathing for him right now."

"What's your address? We'll dispatch an ambulance right away."

I blew another breath into Dad's lungs. "I don't know! I mean I'm not sure. We're at an old house off Park Hall Road. It's at the base of Lambs Knoll," I remembered.

"Elina? Elina Whitaker?"

"Yes, yes, that's me. Dad's not breathing."

"But you're breathing for him, correct?"

"Yes."

"Good, keep it up, nice and steady. We've dispatched an ambulance. I want you to leave your phone on so we can pinpoint your location. I'll stay with you until they arrive."

"Thanks." I blew another breath into Dad's lungs. I continued for what seemed like an eternity. Every once in awhile, he would cough, like he was going to catch his breath, but when I stopped, he still couldn't breathe on his own.

"They're almost there, Elina," the voice from the phone said. "You should be able to hear the sirens."

"Yes, yes, I hear them!"

"Good, keep breathing, you're doing wonderfully."

After a few more minutes, Dad's lungs heaved upwards with a breath. Just then, two paramedics burst into the house.

"Over here!" I yelled.

Dad coughed as they bent down next to me and then he opened his eyes. "Izzy?"

"Nice goin' kid," one of the paramedics said as he slipped an oxygen mask over Dad's face. "We've got him."

"I slid back to give them room and picked up my phone. "Thanks, whoever you are. I think he's going to be okay."

"I'm glad. Don't worry about your dad's car, you just go along with him in the ambulance. I'll see that it gets taken to your house."

"Our house? How do you—Do I know you?" I'd been so caught up in what was going on, I hadn't realized that the voice sounded familiar.

"I'm Mrs. Woodward, your bus driver."

"I don't understand."

"I work part time at the emergency call center."

"Oh, I didn't know that." It explained why I recognized her voice. "They're ready to take Dad, I have to go. Thanks for calling and telling me what to do. Bye." I hit the end call button and slipped the phone into my back pocket where I always kept it. I didn't remember taking it out, or how it got on the floor next to me, for that matter. I pulled my phone back out of my pocket and looked at the call history. Either I—or somehow my phone—had called 911, but how?

"Here we go kid," one of the paramedics said as they rolled Dad toward the door.

"It's Elina."

### Chapter 30

The morning sun was up now after what had been a long tumultuous night. Dad had stopped breathing twice since we left the house on Lambs Knoll. They pumped his stomach, and since then, he hadn't had another episode. It was dark in the hospital room except for the faint fluorescent night light above where his bed had been. They'd taken Dad down for more tests—I was alone. I'd found Dad's iPod in his jacket pocket, and although it wasn't my kind of music, it was beautiful and made me feel closer to him, and face it, the miraculous story he'd told me—the incomplete story. It was still difficult to comprehend.

"Hey," I said as a hospital orderly rolled his bed around the corner. "How's he doing?"

"They took some pictures. I'm sure the doctor will be along to talk to you in a bit, but I think the breathing problem is behind him. I hear you saved his life."

"I guess. I don't know, maybe it was more Mrs. Woodward."

"Now who would that be?"

"My bus driver."

The orderly scratched his head as he positioned the bed in the room and locked the wheels.

"She was the 911 operator who told me what to do," I clarified.

He smiled. "Well, however you managed, you did a good job—not just anyone can do that." He gave me a little nod and then left us alone.

Dad blinked a few times and then opened his eyes for the first time since they'd loaded him into the ambulance.

"Dad!" I shot up out of the chair and gently lay across his bed and hugged him. "I almost lost you." I started to cry—not the pillar of strength I'd promised myself.

He draped his arms around me and managed a weak hug. "What happened? I remember not being able to breathe."

I stepped back, pulled the chair up next to his bed and sat. "You stopped breathing—and I don't know, somehow I managed to breathe for you until the ambulance arrived. I still don't know how."

He pulled my hand into his and squeezed it gently and began to stroke the side of my face and hair with his other hand. "Like Izzy," he whispered ever so softly.

I didn't respond. The fact that he used her given name and not Mom made me think maybe I wasn't supposed to hear that.

After a few minutes, his hand began to tremble, but before he stopped stroking my hair, he held my chin and looked deeply into my eyes. "Did I do the right thing?"

"Telling me? Yes, absolutely. I'm sorry if the strain caused—"

"No." He shook his head. "It didn't. I think I mixed up the dose and the number of times a day for the new prescription."

There was a sound behind me.

"Hey Doc," Dad said. "That sound about right?"

"Very likely based on what we pumped out of your stomach."

"Your oncologist called in and had us take a few pictures, I think—"

Dad shook his head. "Not yet." Dad looked around the room. "Are we in Frederick?"

"Frederick Memorial," the doctor confirmed.

"Is Doctor Diaz still here? She was in ICU last time I was here."

A woman appeared at the doorway, middle-aged, but with what looked like a streak of premature gray in her hair. "Jason?"

"Nice to get to see you again," Dad said.

Doctor Diaz and the other doctor exchanged some kind of visual acknowledgment and the first doctor left. Doctor Diaz picked up Dad's chart, but I think it was more to have something in her hands, a distraction.

"This is my daughter Elina," Dad said.

I wiped my eyes and stood. "Nice to meet you."

Dad laughed. "You don't know who she is." He returned his attention to the Doctor. Given you're in street clothes, can I assume you're off the clock?"

"You can."

"Any possibility you could sneak Elina into the ICU?"

"Given that I'm in charge of the ICU, I imagine so."

"That's nice to hear. I know first hand you deserve it."

"Thank you," she said.

"Why?" I asked. "I don't want to leave Dad. Why did you say I don't know who she is?"

"Well sweetheart, Doctor Diaz was working in the ICU the night they flew your mother and me in."

"Oh." I glanced at her warm inviting smile. "I don't know Dad. You—"

"I'm not going anywhere." He looked to Doctor Diaz. "Before all this," he said, waving his arm over his bed, "I was telling Elina about that night—for the first time. Maybe another perspective might help her grasp what happened here."

"I see. I'd love to show her, but as for what happened, I still don't think anyone really knows."

Dad smiled up at me with an 'I told you so' look. Hearing the doctor say that made the tour unnecessary, but it seemed important to Dad, so I agreed.

"I won't keep her long," Doctor Diaz said. "Right this way."

I followed a few paces back until we arrived at two large wooden doors. She waved her badge across a card reader on the wall and the doors opened. We crossed a waiting room and then went through a set of automatic glass doors. We stopped partway down a short hallway.

"This is the room," Doctor Diaz said. She motioned to a small plaque above the doors that read, 'The Whitaker/Faulkner Room'.

"Really?" I said, astounded.

She stepped forward and the automatic door swooshed open. "I'm not completely sure who had the plaque done. I think it might have been Mrs. Whitaker, your grandmother. I couldn't be more appropriate, though." I followed her into the room. She turned slowly with her arms outstretched. "This is where the miracle happened."

"Miracle," I mumbled hearing it yet another time, although this time from a doctor who was actually there.

"You're not sure you believe it?"

"It's just—"

"Hard to accept in this day and age." She nodded. "We tend to think of miracles in more biblical terms. Can I be straight forward? I don't know what Jason—your father has told you."

"Yes, please. He wants me to understand, to accept—" I stopped, not wanting to inadvertently add some kind of limitation to what she might say.

She nodded seeming to understand that this was about more than what happened here. "Well, I can tell you when I saw your father's x-rays that night I thought, 'how is this kid alive?'. Everything I knew, all the years in med school, internships, all of it, said this kid should be dead. And Izzy, your mother, never in a thousand years have I ever experienced such devotion, such determination. She just wouldn't let go."

"Of his neck, right?"

"Yes—and I can't to this day even begin to explain what she did, but it was much more than that, so much more. I'm not sure love is even a strong enough word and I've seen amazing things accomplished in the name of love."

"So my Dad isn't exaggerating when he says it was a miracle."

"I can't say exactly what transpired, but Mrs. Whitaker and the Faulkners asked for our patience and well, since there was nothing we could do, we let them make the decisions, but those decisions went through your mother. Your dad was—well—he should have been dead."

It took a moment for that to sink in, but Dad was telling the truth, just like he promised.

She started for the door and I followed. "Did your Dad tell you your mom found out she was pregnant with you here?"

"No, he didn't mention it."

"Well, it was a surprise, a wonderful surprise. Your Aunt Cathy arranged a visit to cheer her up. She'd been feeling ill and she let me do a blood test and, voilà, there you were."

I thought back to what Dad said about Mom having to add something of herself to the potion. "Was her blood test normal—I mean except for the pregnant part?"

She tapped her finger on her lower lip a few times before answering. "No, it wasn't, and she seemed to have anticipated that outcome."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she made me promise not to let anyone else see her blood test. As a matter of fact, she got rather worked up when I took the sample out of the room to the lab." We crossed the waiting room to the two large wooden doors. "I honored my promise and gave her back the vile of blood that belonged to her." She waved her badge over the card reader and the doors opened. "Can you find your way back to Jason's—" She glanced down at her watch. "Never mind." She led the way again.

Dad was resting when we got back but opened his eyes as we entered. "How was the tour?"

"Inspiring," I said.

Doctor Diaz looked at me and then Dad.

"It's okay, Elina can hear what you have to say."

She slid up the other side of the bed, opposite me and grasped Dad's hand. "I was so sorry to hear about Izzy, she was the most incredible woman I've ever known." Her eyes got misty as she continued. "It seems you've come full circle." She patted Dad's leg.

"But no miracle this time," Dad said.

"You never know. One thing I'm certain of, no matter what happens, the two of you will be together." She looked over to me. "Elina, I know we don't know each other, but if you ever need anything, get in touch with me—anything, really."

"Thank you."

"Well, I should run along." She walked to the door and turned back. "I can tell what's between the two of you was worth Izzy's sacrifice. She would be so proud of the both of you."

The following day, Dad's oncologist tried to get Dad to remain in the hospital—and he wanted to, for my sake, but I managed to convince him to let me have my way—his way really. After a lot of paperwork, we were finally on our way back to the house on Lambs Knoll, Dad and Mom's house, where he wanted to be—to die.

### * * *

As I'd hoped, Dad had perked up considerably since we returned to the old house. I knew it was temporary, but it was good to see him happier. I had a bed put on the main floor in the parlor so that he didn't have to deal with the stairs and probably, more importantly, the memories of upstairs. I slept on the couch and had not ventured past the shower at the top of the stairs either.

"Elina!"

"Coming, Dad." I hurried out of the kitchen to find Dad standing at the bottom of the staircase in the exact same place where he had collapsed. "Dad, what are you doing?"

He motioned for me to join him and when I did, he put his arm over my shoulder. "I want you to help me up the stairs so we can finish the story—well at least this part."

"Dad, I'm not so sure—'this part', what does that mean?"

He nudged us toward the stairs. "I don't know about you, but my story isn't over yet." He put his foot on the first step and glanced over at me. "Good memories. I want you to have good memories of this house. So many good things happened here—so much love, devotion and sacrifice—like Doctor Diaz said, 'the things that made _us_ possible'—that make _you_ so very special." He grabbed the railing and got his other foot up on the first step. "Remember, good memories." Together, we climbed the stairs.

When we reached the top, Dad opened the door on the left, across from the bathroom I'd been using.

"A nursery?" I puzzled.

"It's yours." Dad led me into the pink room.

"The artwork is amazing."

"Aunt Cathy did the art. Uncle Alex and I helped, but it was her vision."

"It's beautiful."

"But," he chuckled, "I think we can say she missed with this vision."

"Yeah, maybe footballs and goalposts instead of fairies and roses. Still, it is a perfect little girl's nursery."

"I'm sorry you never got to use it."

"Remember, you said, 'good memories'."

"You're right." We stepped back out through the doorway. Dad glanced down the long narrow hallway to the closed door at the far end.

"Mom?" I cringed.

He grasped my hand tightly. "More importantly, you." He led me down to the door and stopped with the door just out of reach.

"Are you sure you're up to this?"

He took a deep breath. "Yes, I want to tell you—need to tell you." He twisted my hand gently and took the final step. As he opened the door, he said, "I hope you can forgive me."

I was totally confused now. As crazy as the story behind Mom's saving his life was, this one should be pretty straightforward and I couldn't see how my forgiving him fit at all.

It was a large room, even by today's standards. There was a four-poster bed against the left wall and like the rest of the house, the room was spotless. Dad released my hand and walked over to the large bed.

As he eased up along the side of the bed, he ran his hand over the lily white comforter. "This is where you were born."

"Really?" I murmured.

"Yes," as he said that, he gripped the comforter in his hand almost making a fist. It seemed like an odd reaction.

I walked over next to him and lay my hand on his. "And Mom?" I whispered, almost unable to say the words.

He nodded and then as if his strength gave out, settled down on the edge of the bed. He was silent for a long time but finally looked up into my questioning face, his now filled with tears.

"I'm sorry, Dad—"

"You shouldn't be." He wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve. "We fell asleep even though it was snowing—she was my responsibility." He shook his head. "And I fell asleep. She woke up in labor—you couldn't be delivered naturally, there were complications. You were scheduled for a C-section the following day."

"That's when they have to cut the baby out?" I asked even though I knew the answer. My stomach rolled as my thoughts momentarily jumped ahead.

"The contractions caused her to bleed—there was too much snow." He shook his head again.

"I don't understand, what does the snow have to do with it?"

"She was bleeding between contractions, a lot. They couldn't get here in time." Tears streamed down his cheeks. "She was going to die—the love of my life, my existence was going to die and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

"Then it's like I thought all along. I killed her."

Dad choked back the tears and tried to continue. "She knew it, she knew her fate was sealed, but she wouldn't accept losing you. She made me—I couldn't—she said, 'together' we could do it. And so, she helped me do the C-section to save your life."

"My God! Dad, how could you do that?" My stomach rolled again and I thought I was going to be sick.

"I couldn't."

"But you said—"

"She pressed the knife into herself. I tried to stop her, but she begged me to save you—she begged, said, 'together' and then she guided my hand and the knife." He shook his head and mumbled, "So much blood, so much." He took a sharp breath as if startled and continued, "You were blue by the time I got you out. Izzy was afraid for you, afraid we were too late. I patted you on the back and you started crying. She was so pale when I lay you in her arms.

'I packed a towel with snow and pressed it into the wound—what I'd done to her, but it was too late—she knew that. She coaxed me up to her side and I held the two of you as she died." He looked up at me again with red swollen eyes. "Don't you see, because of me she was mortal and because I fell asleep, I doomed her—I even had to be the one to actually kill her. It was never your fault. You were, and are, a blessing, the last one your mother got to see—to hold."

We collapsed into one another's arms and wept. There were no miracles, no potions or immortals, but this part of the story was even more difficult to comprehend. 'How?' was all I kept thinking. How could Dad do that to the love of his life? How could Mom do it—how could she bear the pain? How could any two people have so much love for each other that they could see their way through something like that? And, if that wasn't enough, how could I have ended up such a spoiled brat after what Mom and Dad had gone through, for me? Finally, when I had no more tears, I pushed back.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I know you don't blame me, but I'm still sorry I separated the two of you."

He stroked the side of my tear soaked face and then gently traced the slit in my ear with his finger. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

I reached up and grabbed my ear. "The knife?"

He nodded and stroked the side of my face with the back of his hand. "We both love you so much. I hope now you can understand just how much."

"Thank you. I know that was impossible to get through and thank you seems so inadequate, but thank you for telling me. Are you alright?"

He nodded again.

"Would you like some water? I was going to run get a bottle."

"Sure."

I ran downstairs and grabbed two water bottles but I wasn't prepared for what I saw when I got back to the room. Dad was laying on the bed in the very spot where Mom had died. "Dad!" I yelpt, fearing the worse.

"I'm okay." He sat up as I approached.

I sat next to him and we drank in silence. I was lost for words. I didn't even know how I felt. Finally, Dad screwed the lid back on his water bottle and set it on the nightstand. "I have a favor to ask."

"Anything—well almost anything," I corrected, suddenly wary of my first response.

"I want to stay up here. No more rooming in the parlor—"

"Dad, I'm not—"

"And there's a bed in the spare room. I'd like you to move that into your nursery. Think you're up to a little pink?"

I could see how much it meant to him, his expression said it all. "Okay, if it'll make you happy."

"It will. And one more thing."

"And that would be?"

"I need some of those muscles of yours."

"What?"

He slid out of bed. "Oh, just help me move the bed over in front of the window."

"Sure, no problem."

We, well I, slid the bed over in front of the large window that faced slightly west. It would give Dad a view of the winter sunsets. I spent the rest of the afternoon bringing his stuff upstairs and then putting the spare bed and my stuff in my old nursery. A little pink was a total understatement. At least no one would ever know.

I'd missed a few days of school, but the teachers were understanding and gave me work to do at home. It didn't hurt that I was a good student—at least academically.

### Chapter 31

I ignored the Friday afternoon turmoil on the bus ride home. I was fortunate that I was still on Mrs. Woodward's bus and she kept the front seat for me like she'd done all year. I glanced up at the mirror over her head into her concerned eyes. We stopped to let the Curley's off. Their mailbox was strapped to the post with duct tape.

"How's your Dad?" Mrs. Woodward asked.

"Alive," I replied. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound—"

"That's okay. How are you?" She reached over and pulled the arm that closed the doors.

"Numb."

She nodded before continuing. She stopped two more times before we finally arrived at the stop closest to the old house.

I turned back to her as I stepped off the bus. "Thank you for what you did. Without your help, I wouldn't have had this time with him."

"Tell your dad he's in our prayers. You two have a nice weekend."

"Thanks."

The doors closed and she drove away. It was cold, more like December was supposed to be, and dry for a change, so I cut across the field instead of walking the longer route to the driveway. Part way, I broke into a light jog. I was anxious. I didn't like leaving Dad even though he had hospice care when I was in school.

"What?" I yelled as I broke out of the woods and could see the house. There was no car in the driveway, which meant Dad was alone! I raced up the driveway, fumbled with my key and like usual, had difficulty with it in the lock. "Dad!" The key was partially bent by the time I finally jiggled it just enough to unlock the door. I burst into the entranceway. "Dad!"

"In here," came his voice from the parlor.

"What? You're not supposed to do stairs." I looked down and my leggins were covered with tiny spiked seedpods. "Are you okay?" I stepped into the entranceway to the parlor, but Dad must have been lying down because I couldn't see him.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with an ease to his voice that up to this point had been failing him.

"I need to go change, I cut across the field—"

"The seedpods." He laughed. "I'm afraid they won't come out in the wash, you'll have to pick them off by hand." His head appeared over the back of the couch.

"Great, these are my favorite."

"Well, I don't mind helping."

I stared for a moment. "You look better. What happened to the hospice people? You should have called me."

"I called them and told them I didn't need them."

"Dad? Are you saying—" I started into the room.

"No, no, of course not." He held up his hand to stop me. "Go change, we'll talk when you're finished."

I stopped, just two steps into the room and cocked my head to the side. He definitely looked better and then I noticed the aroma of the house, it was sweeter, almost like flowers. Dad's smile looked as if he were covering—suspicious. "What's going on, Dad? Did you call Aunt Cathy? I told you I won't leave you—you can't make me."

His smile broadened. "Go change. I'll be here when you get back."

"Okay." I turned to go up to my room. "But no more stairs without my help."

"Go chan—"

"I know, I know." I marched upstairs and, unfortunately, was afraid I would ruin my favorite leggins if I tried to take them off without first picking off the seedpods. "Dad!" I yelled. "I'm going to be a few minutes. Is that okay?"

I knew it would be difficult for Dad to raise his voice enough for me to hear him, but it was worth a shot.

"Okay." His voice was faint, but he couldn't have done that yesterday. What changed?

I sat down and started picking the bazillion little seedpods off my leggins. Was this one of those you're better just before the end kind of things? God, I hoped that wasn't it, I wasn't ready for my world to come crashing down, much less Dad's. I finally finished one leg and started on the other. There was no doubt the house had been a pick me up, it's why I insisted we return for his final days, but this was more than that. He'd also shown improvement when we moved upstairs—opposite of what I expected, but I couldn't say no to him. Yes, he was more alive, almost vibrant, since he moved into his old room of more than sixteen years ago. Something was going on. I finally picked out the last seedpod, tossed them into the trash and put on a pair of navy blue leggins and my tennis shoes. Time to see what Dad was up to.

I heard Dad's voice as I stepped out into the hallway. It sounded like he was talking to someone, but they stopped as soon as they heard me. "He did call Aunt Cathy," I mumbled under my breath. He didn't answer when I asked if he'd called her. That made me angry. I thought we were at a good place, an honest place. I stomped down the stairs.

When I came to the archway to the parlor, my suspicions were confirmed, they were sitting on the sofa next to each other with their backs to me, but Cathy's hair was lighter—auburn, and Dad had his arm around her shoulders. They hadn't moved, but they had to have heard me coming. Whatever they thought they were doing, it was NOT going to happen. Not if I had anything to say about it, and I did. I grasped the end of the sofa furthest from them and yanked it toward me as I rounded the end.

"Damn it, Dad! I told you—"

They stood together.

"Mom?"

Everything went black—I was falling.

### * * *

I was groggy, my body numb, but there was an ice pack on my forehead, or at least I think that's what it was. It was hard, but conformed perfectly to the shape of my head—it wasn't freezing, but cold and a sensation of warmth radiated from it. I moved my head slightly and again noticed the sweet smell in the air. The strain must be getting to me more than I was aware, because I swear I just saw my dead mother, and despite all the talk of miracles, potions and immortality, she was dead—by Dad's own account.

Something, or someone soft, moved under me. "Is she okay?" Dad said.

"She'll be fine," a vaguely familiar voice with a musical quality to it said.

Just before I blinked, the ice pack was gone. "Dad?" I could make out his face, more than one.

"Are you alright?" he said.

I reached my hand up and confirmed the cool skin of my forehead. "I don't know."

"Are you hurt?"

"No," I huffed; I've been hit harder. I shook my head and my vision focused on Dad's face. He was close and he was all I could see.

"I'm sorry, we didn't—"

"We?" I pushed his face to the side, and there behind him, Mom. I stared in disbelief. I propped myself up on my elbows after Dad slid out from under me.

He rose to stand next to her. She was slight in stature, her height less than Dad's shoulders. I pushed back against the arm of the sofa as Dad slipped his arm around her waist. My mind was racing a mile a minute, but I didn't know what to say, what to make of what I was seeing. Dad looked at her and gave her a slight squeeze.

At his movement, she spoke, "Hello Elina."

Dad's smile began to fade as my silence lingered. "Elina?" he offered. "It's Izzy, your mother."

I pushed back harder until I was sitting up, feet in front of me, defensively, almost in a ball. I glanced quickly around the room for something, anything to make me believe this was some kind of morbid dream, but nothing was out of place—maybe it should be, maybe that's what was wrong. A strange calming seemed to come over me. I slowly uncoiled and reached my hand forward.

Mom, her ghost, or whatever she was slowly reached toward me. She moved her hand slightly so that when we touched, it was palm to palm. Her skin was cool like marble but hard like granite. I slid my hand back, our fingertips lingering for a moment. I glanced at Dad, he was smiling again. Whatever he'd told me, whatever I believed, was wrong, she wasn't dead—was she immortal?

"No!" I shouted.

Dad stumbled back at my sudden outburst. Her reflexes were instant and she steadied him before he even wavered.

"No!" I repeated. "You can't take him. No!" I slid off the side of the sofa and stood a full head taller than her. Immortal or not, she was not going to take him. I lunged forward to push her, but she didn't budge—she was as solid as stone—a wall. "What are you?" I tried again, but again she didn't move. "Monster! Stay away from my dad!" I swung a fist at her, but Dad stepped in between us and took the blow to his body.

He gasped, covering his mouth with his hands. When he pulled them away, his palms were spattered with blood. He began to cough uncontrollably.

"See what you did!" I yelled with all my bottled up anger.

She didn't waver, but her eyes narrowed in anger, or hate, or as if she wanted to kill me.

"Stop," Dad choked out between coughs.

Mom stepped back, leaving Dad teetering on the edge of falling. I swear she growled under her breath.

Dad reached for her. "Izzy please," he wheezed.

He chose her! He chose her, not me. I turned and ran into the entranceway.

"Elina!" Dad tried to yell after me.

I grabbed my jacket, glanced at them standing there in each other's arms, threw open the front door and ran.

### * * *

I was brimming with anger. I was angry at everything, especially myself. I turned, leapt off the end of the porch and ran up the side of the mountain. The cold night air was like fire in my lungs. By the time I reached the paved road that ran along the ridge between the towers, my thighs were burning. I turned right, away from the main road a mile away. A short time later, I came to the split in the road. I cleared the gate on the left in stride and continued into the darkness. It wasn't long until I reached the last tower and the end of the paved path.

I collapsed, hands on my knees and panted. There was no point in trying to run through the dark woods, I would just hurt myself—maybe I should—no, the last thing I wanted was pity. I drew in a searing cold breath and headed back down the pavement toward Reno Monument Road. I'm not sure I'd ever run this fast, but I pushed harder as the last tower came into view. I swear at times, it almost sounded like someone was running with me, just off the path. Up ahead a pair of headlights passed the small parking lot and disappeared around the stone monument. There were two pickup trucks in the parking lot. It was hunting season, deer season to be exact, but I was pretty sure it was illegal to hunt at night—what did it matter anyway?

I crossed Reno Monument Road without looking and continued on the Appalachian Trail that also ran along the ridge. I glanced back as I thought I heard footsteps again, but it was impossible to see in the dark. I glanced up through the barren branches at the cloudless night. Where was the moon when you needed it? The trail made a sweeping right turn East and I could see the moon rising. It would be full. I was forced to slow to a jog after almost tripping twice. There was a flicker, not a light, but a reflection off to my left. I looked as a flash of fire appeared. There was a wisp of air, and I swear the sound of a bullet ricocheting of stone right next to my ear. The sound of a gunshot reached my ears. I stopped as it seemed another set of footsteps continued on in front of me, but there was no one there.

"What the hell!" I yelled in the general direction of the gun flash.

"Dang Joe," a voice in the distance said, "you damn near shot someone."

"Let's get the heck out of here," Joe answered.

There was a clatter that turned into running, back toward Reno Monument Road. "The two pickups," I gasped, "hunters. Jeeze, that was close." I leaned back against a large oak and tried to take deep breaths. As my breathing began to slow, I sank down to the base of the tree, and despite my efforts, began to cry. I crossed my arms over my knees and let my head rest on my forearms. I couldn't stop crying and that made me even angrier. By the time I looked up, the full moon lit the night sky. It was almost like daylight except everything had a blue hue.

I picked up a rock and heaved it down the side of the ridge. "Idiot!" I yelled after it. I was the idiot. I'd let my temper get the better of me yet again. Dad, Grammy, and if that wasn't enough, Doctor Diaz—they couldn't have all been lying. No, what Dad told me he thought was the truth. There had to be another explanation—Mom—this was her fault. "This is all your fault, Mom!" I yelled into the night. "Fault," I whispered. How could her returning to Dad be a fault? Dad said she had been immortal, but he never said exactly what that was, or meant. Sure, I'd assumed some God-like being, an angel like Grammy believed, but who was to say? What was it Doctor Diaz had said, something about we think of miracles in biblical terms, thousands of years ago. I wiped my eyes and looked back up at the golden moon. Who was I to say no? I was the murderer, the one who took Mom away from Dad.

I shivered as the cold penetrated my thin leggins. I got up, stretched out my legs and began a slow jog back to the house. Maybe I wasn't the one to decide, but Dad was happier, happy with me. Didn't I deserve whatever time he had left?

### * * *

I naturally slowed as I approached the house, I wasn't as angry, but I had more questions than answers and I still wasn't ready to let Dad go if that was even a possibility. I opened the door and stepped into the quiet house. At least they didn't lock me out. I took off my jacket and hung it over the railing without looking back into the parlor. I gathered my resolve, reminded myself to keep my cool and then turned toward the parlor. The sofa was still where I'd pushed it, so I could see them—she was still here and she had her hand under Dad's shirt, against his side. I walked slowly to the archway that framed the entrance to the parlor.

"What is she doing?" I asked Dad, ignoring her.

Dad looked up at me with such troubled eyes. All the improvement I'd seen was gone, but he managed a slight smile. "Human icepack," he joked. "You've gotta heck of a right hook."

"I didn't mean to hit—"

"It was so unnecessary," she interrupted.

"Who are you to say—"

"All you had to do was ask and I would have left." She turned away from me, returning her attention to Dad's injury.

I pushed my hair to the side and wiped my sleeve across my sweaty forehead. "My icepack?" I asked Dad.

"Yes," he said.

"How bad did I hurt you?"

"You cracked three ribs," she said with condemnation.

"I'm sorry, Dad." I started to turn away. "I have to take a shower. Will she be here when—"

"Yes," Dad said, "and Elina, you know better than to run in the woods at night. It can be dangerous, especially this time of year."

I glared at her but spoke to Dad. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Before he could reply, she said, "It's hunting season. You could be mistaken for a deer."

I turned and raced upstairs into the bathroom and slammed the door.

The shower did more than wash away the sweat, it gave me time to think, to calm down. I leaned forward, put my palm against the tile wall under the showerhead and let the hot water cascade over my head and shoulders. Was she pacing me? Protecting me? Could she have saved my life from that hunter? How is that even possible? And the icepack? Dad said she was the icepack when I fainted—I fainted. I can't believe I did that. I lifted my face into the spray of water. Now what? When the hot water turned tepid, I shut it off, dried myself and then wrapped the towel around me. I stepped out of the tub and then sat on the edge with my head in my hands. "Now what?" I whispered.

It was quiet downstairs when I finally opened the bathroom door, but as I stepped out into the hallway, I heard Dad say, "I know."

I couldn't hear her, but I assume she replied.

"She needs time," Dad continued, "this whole thing has been sprung on her all at once—she's sixteen, can you imagine what it must be like?"

"Yes," she replied in a whisper. "Have you forgotten? We weren't much older. I don't know how we survived it and you know that this is not what I wanted for our daughter."

"I don't know what to do," Dad said. Maybe I should have just stayed in the hospital, it's hopeless, after all these years—hopeless."

I eased down one step as quietly as I could, and then bent over until I could just see them through the railing. For a moment, I thought she saw me, but she remained focused on Dad.

"Jason, if we overcame all the challenges that stood between us, I know Elina will do no less."

I swear she glanced at me before I slipped back upstairs and into my room to get dressed. I put on another pair of leggins, a sports bra and a long sleeve tee shirt. My favorite tennis shoes were wet, so I propped them up on the radiator and put on an older, more comfortable pair. After I was dressed, I sat on the edge of my bed, pulled my pillow into my lap and after a short time, found myself punching it over and over. I felt stranded, isolated in my own house—it wasn't fair. Maybe I should try to at least talk to her, there was still so much I didn't understand—I hadn't given them a chance. I got up and ventured down the stairs. As I crossed the entranceway toward the parlor, I thought I heard singing—soft, angelic. I walked into the room as quiet as I could.

Mom was still sitting on the sofa, but Dad was lying asleep with his head in her lap. She was humming now, softly stroking his hair. There was something about the melody. She looked up at me and stopped.

"Don't stop on my account," I whispered as I crossed the room to the chair closest to her.

She resumed humming, but after a few bars, started singing again, "Now it's time to say goodnight. Good...night, sleep...tight. Now the sun turns out its light. Good...night, sleep...tight. Dream sweet dreams for me. Dream sweet dreams for you." She slipped back into humming.

I knew the song; it was a lullaby—when I was little. I listened more closely and tried to remember.

"Close your eyes and I'll close mine." She continued to hum. When she started to sing again, I knew the next words.

"Now the moon begins to shine. Good...night, sleep...tight—" I stopped and just stared, trying to remember the last time I heard the lullaby.

Mom smiled while she hummed the next verse and then sang the ending, "Close your eyes and I'll close mine..." She hummed a few more bars and then ended with just words. "Goodnight, sweetheart." We sat in silence for a few minutes—I'd stopped staring at her.

"You remember?" she whispered.

"You?"

"Poor Jason," she said softly. "He was so tired trying to manage an infant and college." She smiled. "You were a colicky baby, but he thought you were a perfect angel."

"Because you sang me to sleep?" I ran my hands through my damp hair, pushing it back, away from my face. "When I was a baby?"

"A beautiful baby." She smiled again. "I sang you to sleep for many years."

The scent I'd been smelling, it wasn't the house, it was Mom. "If you were there, when I spelt, then why did you stay away?"

Her soft, angelic features tightened. "I shouldn't have come at all, it was much too dangerous, but you were my first—a miracle, and I knew you would be my only. I couldn't miss your life, even though we couldn't be together."

"Because of what you are?"

She eyed me skeptically as if I might have meant something other than what I knew her to be.

"I don't understand," I confessed. "How can it be dangerous to be immortal?"

She considered for a long time while she continued to stroke Dad's hair.

I glanced down at his peaceful face. "Is he okay?"

Her beautiful facial features tightened again as if she felt his pain. "For now." She leaned back a little, a more natural posture. "Our two worlds exist separately, but together. They are not intended to come in contact with each other."

"You said you and Dad had to overcome challenges. Were you immortal then?"

"Yes."

"But she didn't want to be," Dad said. "Like she doesn't want to be now." He looked up at her but made no effort to move.

"I don't understand that—not at all—why would someone not want to be immortal?"

She looked down at Jason and stroked the side of his face. They held a troubled gaze before Mom looked back up, studying my face, considering.

"I won't tell. I promise."

She seemed to already know that. I think her hesitancy might have more to do with the danger she alluded to. She remained silent.

Dad eased up and then scooted close to her side and draped his arm around her shoulders. "Izzy was human before we met in high school—her change was not by choice. She was filled with anger and rage when we met, and wanted only to destroy the one who changed her."

"You can destroy an immortal? Kind of makes it not so immortal."

She folded her arm and grasped Dad's hand. Jason saved me from myself and for a while, we lived and loved as mortal and immortal—"

"And then the accident changed everything," I concluded.

They both nodded.

She smiled up at Dad with such affection; I couldn't help but smile too. "We were married, started college—I was mortal for two years to the day, long enough to bring you into the world."

"It really is a miracle," I said. "You looked sad when you said, 'bring me into the world', is it because I killed the mortal part of you?"

She looked shocked and then looked back up at Dad. "It was supposed to be the end, my end."

"It's my fault," Dad confessed. "Just before she died, she made me swear to cremate her."

"Why?" I asked Mom.

"Because I was afraid I might change and I couldn't bear to be separated from the two of you like this."

"I failed her in other words," Dad said.

"I forgave you a longtime ago. Watching Elina grow—the two of you—"

"Wait a minute! You said a longtime ago, how long?"

Dad's expression turned sullen. Mom looked up at him inquisitively.

"Dad?" I stood. "How long ago?"

He looked up at me with a mixture of sorrow and regret.

"When I was seven and you started sending me to Aunt Cathy's. Am I right?" I demanded.

"I—I didn't—I couldn't bring myself—"

"You lied! Again, you lied. My whole life is nothing but a string of lies." I turned away from them and took a step toward the archway.

"Can I run with you?" Mom asked.

"What?" I wheeled around. She was already standing. She was wearing a linen blouse and what looked like some sort of tan riding pants. Her shoes were made of lightweight canvas, not meant for any serious activity.

"I promise I'll keep up."

"Fine." I raced out the front door. It closed behind me. I turned and looked at her.

"Your father will be fine."

"You can tell, for sure."

"Yes."

The full moon lit the night almost like day, but the woods held a blue hue.

"You're in training?" Mom asked, catching me by surprise.

"For—"

"Football," she finished.

"Yes," I said, trying to lose the anger in my voice. This wasn't her fault, at least it didn't seem that way.

"Then I have an idea—if you can keep up." She smiled wryly. "This way."

### Chapter 32

Mom wasn't kidding when she said if I could keep up, but she seemed to know just how fast I could run. We went up the mountain like I had before, but crossed the paved road, down a small ravine and then up onto another, broader ridge. It was largely open as far as mature trees, but the ground was littered with medium sized branches. Maybe it had been cut for timber. We came to a stop along the edge.

"When Jason played football, they used to run ladders," Mom said.

"That's right," I agreed. "It's muscle memory to teach you to lift your feet."

"Lifting your feet is good since everyone is trying to tackle you, but did you ever consider muscle memory might not be so great?"

"No, it's just what we do."

"Just because everyone does it, doesn't make it right, or in this case, the best. When you run ladders, all the rungs are equally spaced, correct?"

I nodded. "Sure."

"In a game, are all the grabbing arms and falling players equally spaced?"

"Of course not."

"Well, watch and learn." There was a little sparkle in her eyes.

This I gotta see, I thought.

Mom took off across the tangle of branches, weaving and darting, even spinning her way forward. At one point, she even used one of the larger branches as a springboard to clear a large tangle of branches. She stopped halfway across the clearing and returned in a similar fashion, darting and dancing through the branches. She stopped in front of me, not even out of breath and said, "Your turn."

I looked past her at the branches in awe.

"Tell you what," she said, "just follow my lead until you get the hang of it."

And off we went—slower, much slower. I fell three times on my first attempt, but she was there with a hand to help me up. We did it three more times and I could feel the burn in muscles I didn't even know I had. I only fell once on the last try. We pulled up where we had started.

"Want to rest for a minute?" she asked in a perfectly calm voice.

"Sure," I gasped.

We sat down on a large fallen tree. By its bark-less, weathered look, it must have fallen many years ago. She stroked the smooth wood with the palm of her hand as if remembering. I think this was a place she'd been before. Finally, my breathing slowed.

"Ready to try again?" she asked.

"Can we just talk—for a minute?"

"You blame your father?"

"I don't know. I mean, I can see how close the two of you are, but it seems like we could have—should have been a family like you wanted. I don't understand why that didn't happen."

"You understand what I said earlier?"

"About the two worlds not mixing? Sure, but you yourself even said you and Dad lived as mortal and immortal for a while."

"We did, and it was very dangerous, for both of us—for our families."

"Grammy and Grandpa—the Faulkners, how?"

"There are laws—"

"Immortal's have laws? This isn't one of those you have to fight until there is only one kind of things is it?"

She laughed. "That's fiction."

"Sure. So if you could do it back then, was I not worth the risk? I mean you and Dad were, well, summer flinging it while I was in the dark, right?"

She slapped me.

I jumped up and took a swing at her, but naturally missed. Immortality seemed to come with a ton of physical enhancements.

"I'm sorry, forgive me," she said.

"Why should I?"

"I let my temper get the better of me. I really am sorry."

"Yeah, I know how that goes. I'm sorry I took a swing at you."

"Is that what that was?" She laughed. "I thought you wanted to play patty cake." She winked.

"Great, make fun of the human—I am human aren't I?"

"Yes, from everything Jason tells me, you're completely human."

"So, because I'm strong, a cancer isn't going to come along one day and eat me up inside like Dad?"

"Not because of your blood. You've been to the Frederick Hospital?"

"Yes, when Dad stopped breathing—about that, were you the voice telling me what to do?"

"I hope that was okay. I didn't know what else to do." She sighed. "About the hospital, though, there's a Doctor Diaz—"

"I met her, she was there when you saved Dad's life and she told me she was the one who found out you were pregnant with me."

"She's a good person, honest—you can trust her. If ever anything happens that you can't explain, seek her out. I know she will help you."

"I don't like the sound of this. You make it sound like you won't be here."

"I don't see how it's possible." Her gaze sank to the ground.

I jumped up. "Because you love Dad more than me!" I accused.

"No, I love both of you."

"Then change both of us—it's why you're here—now—right?"

"I could never do that to you. I also once swore to never change Jason—and I meant it, but—"

"I know, he's dying!" I turned and started toward the paved road.

"Elina, wait!"

I spun back toward her. "What?"

"Your dad and I talked, we decided—" She'd walked up close to me, too close.

I was standing—no looming over her, fists clenched in anger. "You decided! Fine, it's not like I ever had any say in it anyway."

"You're wrong."

I pushed away from her. "No I'm not. You're here for Dad—forget about me." I started to turn and run.

"You have the only say."

"You're lying." With that, I took off for the house. There was little doubt she could outrun me, but when I got to the house, it was quiet, no sign of her. I pushed open the door and stormed into the parlor. "What the hell is all this?"

Dad had somehow managed to get our old Christmas tree, lights and glass ornaments out. The tree was unfolded near the window and the boxes of lights and ornaments were on the end of the sofa.

"Your mother?" he asked.

"I don't know. What is all this?"

"I thought the three of us—"

"You're kidding, right? This is just more of the same sick joke!" I picked up the box of lights and threw it at the tree. It toppled over in a heap. Still pulsing with anger, I picked up the box of glass ornaments and threw them onto the pile for good measure. I raced up the stairs, leaving the sound of broken glass behind.

I slammed the door and collapsed on my bed in tears. How could they put this on me? How?

### * * *

It was almost four in the morning when I awoke, eyes crusted with dried tears. Sometimes I could be such a girl. I glanced around the nursery. I guess it's what they envisioned when they painted this room. I couldn't picture myself all curls and bows, but maybe if Mom had been around it—I might have been different. Still, at six feet in height, I couldn't see the girly thing. I sat up and scraped the gunk out of my eyes. _My choice_. Mom said it was my choice. Certainly, that meant, at the very least, Dad would live or die by what I decided, but what else? She'd clearly said she would not change me—there were even dangers in my knowing about the existence of immortals. Could or would they stay in my life? "I'm such an idiot," I mumbled. "How could I run off on her like that—and Dad. What was I thinking?" If this truly was up to me, it was time for the truth. What were my choices? I grabbed a pair of jeans, a tee shirt and walked over to the bathroom across the hall to wash up. I wasn't up for another shower, so I just washed off my face and under my arms, then some deodorant and I got dressed. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and stared at my reflection in the mirror. "You can do this, Elina." I pushed off the sink and went downstairs.

It was almost like the last time I came downstairs, Mom was on the sofa with Dad lying with his head in her lap. The Christmas decorations were still in a pile in front of the window. Mom looked up as I approached.

"What's wrong?" I said, immediately recognizing the concern in her eyes. "It's Dad." I hurried to the sofa and knelt down by her feet next to Dad. He was sleeping. I looked up into Mom's eyes. "It's my fault, I was angry—"

"No sweetheart, it's not your fault. The potion—it's spreading quickly now." She reached out and stroked my hair. "I'm sorry, I wish I wasn't here—"

"No, I'm glad you're here, I couldn't face this alone." I looked at Dad and thought about when I'd seen him just a few hours ago. "He's going to wake up, isn't he?"

"I think so."

"He has to he. He can't remember me like the last time." I glanced over at the broken Christmas things that he'd spent so much energy just to gather. I looked up at Mom. "What are my choices?"

Her smile was forced, but sincere. "I will not change you. You have your whole life ahead of you, so much to learn, to accomplish. The world will be a better place with you in it." She closed her eyes momentarily. When she opened them, she had a new, different resolve. "Anything else."

"Anything?" I verified.

She nodded her acceptance.

"I want us to stay a family. I know you said there are dangers, but I love you two. I don't want to live without you."

"The dangers—" she shook her head, but not as if she wouldn't agree.

"If it's not possible, then I want you to save Dad and kill me."

She reached out and cupped my cheek. "We would die first." She drew me closer and then leaned over and kissed me. "You will have your family."

"Thank you, Mom." I slid up the side of the sofa and kissed her on the cheek. "I love you."

She eased Dad down the sofa a little to make room for me to sit next to her. "There are some things you need to know—so you are prepared."

"I thought there might be something like that."

"We cannot let Jason die. If he were to die, it would be too late to change him. The longer we wait, the greater the risk."

"I understand. Will he—the two of you be in danger?"

"There is always danger, wherever you are. Did you know your Dad was a warrior among my kind?"

"Dad? I mean he was a fiery coach, but a warrior? I've seen some of what you can do. I can't see how a human could ever be a warrior."

"He was cunning and took advantage of how he would be perceived as a human by our adversary. He alone took down one of the most dangerous immortals. We both thought that it would change the world of immortals for the better, but that wasn't to be."

"That's why it's dangerous for me to know?"

"It has always been dangerous, but more so now." She shook her head as if she was unsure of her decision to accept my condition. "The change takes time. During that time, if we're lucky, your Dad will appear to be dead by all human standards. He must be interned before the end of the third day."

"In the tomb, where you—well, where everyone thinks you are."

"Good, that's perfect."

"I'm not sure exactly how to do all that, but I bet Aunt Cathy can help. Since you were friends in school, I assume she at least knows something about all of this."

"Elina, I have a request of you when it comes to Aunt Cathy."

"Okay, sure, anything."

"Please don't question her about the past. She had a very difficult time back in school. A great deal of it had to do with 'all of this'."

"Sure, I promised to guard our secret. I won't break that vow."

"Good." She looked at me cautiously. "You cannot witness the change—besides being forbidden, I don't want you to see me, or your father, like that. I hope you can understand. I will let you know when it's time. Perhaps you can go for a run."

"Okay." I agreed partly because I knew I had no choice. Besides, it was probably better for me to know as little as possible.

"There's only one more thing," she whispered.

"I get the feeling I'm not going to like this one."

"After your Dad's change, he won't be able to be around humans for quite some time. It's hard to say exactly how long, it's an individual thing."

"How long did it take you?"

"I don't remember much about the first time, but I've been told by my family—"

"The Faulkners."

"Yes. They told me it seemed easier for me, although what I remember I wouldn't consider easy by any means."

"The second time?"

"Much more difficult. I think because I lost so much."

"Dad."

"And you."

"So I assume you're talking months," I confirmed.

"I'm afraid it may be several years before your Dad can be close with you."

I know my whole posture drooped as sadness enveloped me.

"I'm sorry, but that is the reality of what you've asked. Do you wish to change your mind?"

"No. I was just hoping he might get to see me play football. It was something that made us closer."

"I will find a way for him to see you play. I promise. And Elina, thank you. I will take care of him and he will be as if his cancer had never happened—even better."

"Like your incredible beauty?"

"He will be magnificent." She smiled, with a twinkle in her eyes.

We both glanced over at the broken pile of Christmas decorations.

"Whatta ya think?" I asked. "I think the lights might be toast, but we could try—for Dad."

While I set up the tree, Mom disappeared upstairs and came down with a handful of candles as I finally got the wire branches bent into the basic shape of a Christmas tree. As I expected, the lights were goners as were most of the ornaments, but broken or not, we managed to salvage enough to decorate the tree.

As the sun finally topped Lambs Knoll, Mom and I strung the popcorn we'd cooked over the fire and wrapped it around the tree. While Mom placed the candles on the tree, I called Aunt Cathy.

"Hi, Elina—what's wrong? Jason, he's not—"

"No, but it's time for you to come, if you still want me."

"Of course we do." There was a long pause. Dad and Mom had talked about Aunt Cathy's sixth sense, but I doubted it worked over the phone. "You're not alone," she added.

"What?" I questioned. "You don't know that."

"Plans, there are plans—put your mother on."

"That's cruel," I glanced over at Mom, "you know she's dead."

Mom smiled, a somewhat annoyed smile and held out her hand. I handed her the phone.

"Yes," she agreed, "I imagine you had your suspicions... no, you're near Greenville, aren't you—you're going to have to fly. I'll make the arrangements, just get to the airport this morning... Yes, it's good to hear your voice again too... Bye." Mom turned to me. "She'll be on her way within the hour. I'll just be a few more minutes."

She dialed my phone and talked to someone who arranged a flight from Greenville, South Carolina into the Hagerstown Airport later in the morning. Finally, she hung up.

"That soon?" Tears began to fill my eyes.

Dad stirred.

Mom looked at me sympathetically. "You've given him, all of us a miracle. Be happy for him, I know you can do that. You've already done the most difficult part."

I shook my head. "No, I haven't."

"Awww, sweetheart." She wrapped her arms around me in a gentle hug.

I fought it but started crying. When I finally stopped, Mom said, "Our first family Christmas."

"You decorated," Dad said, his voice so frail.

Mom and I eased him up so he could see our pathetic tree. Mom lit the candles while I pulled the drapes closed so their glow would light the tree. When we were through, we sat down on either side of Dad. We helped him lift his arms and drape them over our shoulders.

"It's beautiful," he said.

"Sorry I broke the ornaments."

He looked at the tree, Mom, and then me. "I don't know, I think the broken ornaments pieced back together are like a symbol of our family finally being reunited. "I love you, Elina." He leaned over and kissed me and then turned to Mom. "I love you, Izzy." He leaned over and they kissed. As they kissed, I felt his arm grow heavy.

Mom eased him back and silently mouthed, "It's time."

The words broke my heart, but despite the tears, I slid out from under Dad's arm and then walked slowly to the entranceway. I slipped on my jacket and then turned back toward Mom and Dad. They held one another's gaze and I'm certain Dad's tears were for me. Tears for the time we would be apart.

"We love you," Mom whispered so I could hear. It was meant for both Dad and me.

"I love you," I replied.

They fell into an embrace and then kissed, a kiss that I knew would last forever.

### The End

Thank you for spending your valuable time reading my work. I truly hope you enjoyed With This Kiss. A book review is a great way to let me know if you enjoyed the story.

Thanks again,

Lari

### Connect with Lari Smythe Online:

### Facebook: http://facebook.com/lari.smythe

### Smashwords: http://smashwords.com/profile/view/larismythe
