Her heart had opened to him, and hurt for him, this birth mate of hers whose life was so vastly different from anything she’d grown up knowing.

  And the rest...as she’d fallen asleep...dwelling in that place where you were aware of your surroundings, but were floating mentally, too...she’d fallen into a dreamy glaze of want. Imagining her fingers on his chest, the hair, the muscles, and soft skin, too. The trail of black hair that would line down from his belly button, and the hardness it led to. Those lips doing far more than talking...

  In the shower, it all came back to her with a heat that had her sweating beneath the spray until she had to adjust it to a more cooling temperature. The thought occupying her mind as she’d drifted off seemed to have stayed with her on and off throughout the night. Vague memories of hands on her body filtered through, but when she tried to grasp them, slid away.

  Still, they were so different from the nightmares that had been plaguing her sleep for so long, she was glad for their existence.

  You couldn’t blame a woman for helping herself through a hard time with a little fantasy on the side. And when the main character in your private little tableau was an all-Western mountain man secret softie, gun-toting hunk like Jackson...

  Maybe you took a little longer than normal to wake up and face the life waiting for you.

  Wearing a spaghetti-strap, tie-dyed calf-length cotton dress, brown with slashes of burgundy, purple, greens, blues and yellow, with burgundy-studded flip-flops, she descended the stairs, knowing that she couldn’t have picked a safer man to crush on. Jackson was so professional, so assured and so bent on serving his town and solving her case that there was no way he’d be open to a sensual liaison with his summer visitor.

  Besides, for all she knew he could have something going with Dr. Chase. Or someone in town. Just because he lived alone didn’t mean he didn’t have a full-time, monogamous companion.

  He was standing at the counter, in uniform, his back to her, as she came quietly down the winding wooden staircase, but he turned.

  “I was just getting ready to call your cell phone,” he said, his eyes seeming to light on her, but then he turned and started in, all business, as he grabbed an oven mitt and pulled a plate out of the oven with a burrito on it. “I have no idea what you like to eat, but I figured if you’re hungry, this will do.” He slid the plate on a cloth placemat at the table. There was a matching set of four mats, one at each chair, that were printed with what looked like maps of Evergreen.

  She was hungry. And sat down, eager to fill her mouth so she didn’t have to hold conversation just yet. Not until she had herself more firmly rooted in reality.

  “I stopped by Blooming Bridges,” he continued, barely giving her another glance. “Burley turned over information on both the previous occupant of your cabin and the one who cancelled, and I’ve got an officer following up on both of them.”

  “Thank you.” He was thorough. Conscientious. And clearly dead serious about helping her. Like him, she needed to keep her mind only on her business in town. No matter how difficult it might be to dwell only in that place.

  The burrito smelled heavenly and she turned her attention to it.

  “Oh my God, this is delicious,” she blurted after barely swallowing the first bite. “What’s in here?” Eggs and sausage, she could identify, some cheese and onions, but...

  Other than those few things, his refrigerator had been pretty much devoid of anything but condiments and beer and milk when she’d loaded it with her stuff from the cabin.

  “My father’s recipe,” he told her. “I fry up potatoes for the bottom layer and also add a bit of sour cream to the eggs. The salsa I get from a shop in town—it’s all homemade there.”

  All said, as though she was a customer in his diner, while he brewed one cup of coffee, set it in front of her and put another cup, empty, in the dishwasher.

  She wasn’t a coffee drinker. But she was focused on his butt in those pants... “You don’t have to cook for me,” she told him when she started fantasizing again. “I was actually planning to get something in town before I headed to Kelly’s.” She’d texted Kelly Chase the night before and they’d agreed to meet at Kelly’s cabin which was on the other side of Evergreen.

  “Kelly’s coming here for your session,” he told her, folding up a kitchen hand towel and hanging it over the oven door handle. “I’d have arranged it through you, but with the trouble you’ve been having sleeping, I didn’t want to bother you...”

  She didn’t care where she and the psychiatrist met.

  “I ran into a guy this morning, Wayne Burns. He was a friend of my father’s. He actually called out to me when I was heading into the station. He owns a shop across the street, Bear Claws—sells trinkets, Arizona souvenirs, that kind of thing, and his wife’s homemade bear claws...”

  “Right at the beginning of the main section of shops,” she said, remembering the place. Though she hadn’t known about the pastries.

  “He told me about you nosing around town, as he called it. He’s under the assumption that you’re checking out the area for a potential shop ownership, and is worried that you’re going to come in with your nationwide artist pool and that local artists—as well as current shop owners—will suffer. He says the pie’s already sliced too thin for our current economy.”

  Wow. She’d had no idea...and had thought they were all having so much fun the day before, visiting artist to artist. “The people I met, they all seemed so friendly...”

  “They are! Including Wayne. But until I can ask around, and see if this is just one older gentleman feeling threatened and talking to me about it because he’s known me since before I could walk, or if there’s some threatening sentiment going, I’d like you to stay put. I’ll have my answers by the time you’re done with Kelly.”

  She should be losing her appetite, but had to swallow another pleasurable bite before she could say, “You think he, or some of the other owners, is behind the snake and spider and sprinkler mishaps at my cabin? Burley knew who I was. He checks credentials before he rents his places. Maybe he said something to someone...”

  Made her kind of sad, after her enjoyable afternoon downtown and with all of the business cards she’d collected, but what a relief it would be to know that her mishaps had nothing to do with her parents or the past.

  “That’s what I intended to find out,” he said. “Right after I got back here and made sure there was something for you to eat since I to ask you not to go anywhere just yet...”

  The man truly was thoughtful.

  And the way he was making her feel could be allowed only in her fantasies. Those weirdly soft emotions absolutely could not become a part of real life.

  * * *

  No one in town was out to stop Aimee Barker from setting up shop in Evergreen. To the contrary, several of the shop owners were excited about the potential partnership with their artists, their unique, one-of-a-kind pieces, and her hugely successful online store. None of them had known she was in town until she’d shown up in their shops the previous afternoon. So the snake and the spider most definitely couldn’t have come from any of them. None of them recognized the people in the photos he showed them of her parents.

  The response he got to his inquiries not only had him concerned all over again regarding the mysterious bad luck she’d been having, but had him back at the station, looking up Seeds for the Soul, the online version of the shop she owned in New Orleans. Having heard, also, that she was a quite talented and well-known artist herself, specializing in pieces made from flowers pressed in glass. He spent more time looking around than he had to spare, finding several pieces that he’d like to have for his home.

  He’d known the basics from her website, just hadn’t clicked on the store link. And he’d had no idea how well known, and well respected she was. He’d known she was unique. That she ran a shop that apparently supported her, at least one employee, and until recently, her aunt. He’d had no idea the kind of clout she carried in her world.

  Or of the kind of money she must make.

  More in line with his mother’s family, than any life he’d ever lived.

  Absolutely none of which had to do with her case. A mystery he had to solve before someone did more than just scare or inconvenience her.

  A mystery he had to solve as soon as possible so she could get back to the world in which she lived, before he started falling into his father’s shoes, falling for the wrong woman and wondering if someone who didn’t belong there would hang around a little longer. For the summer, maybe.

  He spent the rest of the morning visiting people he’d known all his life, trying to find anyone who remembered a young miner, his nurse wife and their baby girl who’d once lived in the White house. Asking about tree swings they might remember. Or a young teenaged boy who’d done any babysitting. No one he spoke to seemed to remember the couple—which wasn’t all that surprising. Neither Adele or Mason was from Evergreen, and the townspeople were used to having people around they didn’t know. People who came and went. It was all part of living in a city whose population exploded several times its size for part of every year. Add to that all of the wealthier young families from Phoenix who owned property in Evergreen and came up for weekends during the winter as well...

  Neither Mason nor Adele had worked in town, so they wouldn’t have become known that way. And as young as Aimee had been, she wouldn’t have attended school yet. They didn’t have parents or family in town. Unfortunately, they’d been able to just pop right out and no one seemed to have noticed.

  That kind of bothered him, too. There had to be someone still in town who’d met them. He had a call in to the ob-gyn who’d delivered both him and Aimee, but the man, who now lived in Scottsdale, Arizona on a golf course, was on a cruise with his wife. His practice had long since closed. As had a lot of the small practices in town after the medical conglomerate had come up north from Phoenix and built a hospital and medical complex for three of the small neighboring towns to share—Evergreen being one of them.

  He was just checking in with his people on the school records and Burley rental information, was receiving headshakes from his deputies, when his cell phone rang. Pulling his phone out, he glanced at the screen. Kelly Chase.

  “I think we’re on the brink of something here. Can you get away?” the psychiatrist asked, her tone soft and yet managing to convey an immense amount of urgency.

  “On my way,” he said, already grabbing his keys and heading out the door. He’d intended to stay on the call while he drove, to be filled in on what was going on, but as soon as the woman had confirmed that she was still at his place, she’d hung up.

  Leaving him to wonder whether or not the emergency was more violence or otherwise. She’d have said if she needed an ambulance—hell, she would have dialed 911 first if that was the case—or if there was immediate physical danger. Didn’t mean there hadn’t been some.

  The emergency number would have dispatched whatever patrol car was closest. Kelly wanted him specifically.

  Adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he pulled into his land, and had his foot on the ground before he’d even had his SUV fully stopped and off. Everything looked fine from the outside. Kelly’s small rental car parked in the circular gravel drive. All windows intact everywhere he could see. Pushing in through the front door, his gaze went immediately to Kelly, who stood at his entrance, her finger to her lips, as she nodded toward the table and a completely different-looking Aimee than he’d left hours before. Her hair was damp around the edges, as though she’d been exercising. Her face was flushed. And the look in her eyes, as she glanced over at him, seemed...vacant.

  And he understood what Kelly had meant by being on the brink.

  “You ready to go back?” Kelly asked her, her tone professional. Respectful.

  Aimee’s immediate nod belied the completely lost look about her.

  “You’re sure? We can be done if you want to be.”

  She didn’t speak, but the shake of her head was solid. Firm.

  Pulling over another chair from the table, Kelly sat right next to Aimee, leaving him to stand there, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do.

  Obviously, Aimee had remembered something. Or had been about to. And either she or Kelly had wanted him there.

  Which was all that mattered. Thinking of the day before, when Aimee had specifically asked him to stay for the session, he pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the table from Kelly, the one closest to Aimee, and sat.

  He was there as a cop. Wanted to be all cop.

  Wasn’t sure that was the case. A cop wouldn’t likely have had to fight himself not to grab the subject’s hand.

  “Okay, close your eyes and let’s go back to the house you saw yesterday. Just that house, again. Let go of the rest and just let yourself feel what you felt, driving by yesterday...”

  “I’m...happy.” Aimee’s tone was soft, as though she was reciting. Like it had been the day before, and yet different, too. More aware. Less fearful. And reticent, too. She didn’t fear the process, but seemed to not be as sure she wanted to go where it might take her.

  A sign that she’d remembered something significant?

  “No...no...” Aimee shook her head, her brow furrowed above closed eyes. “I’m...longing... I want it so badly...”

  “What do you want?”

  “To hear my mother’s voice again.”

  She’d heard her mother’s voice?

  Jackson’s brow rose as he glanced at Kelly, who met his gaze and nodded.

  The doctor was scientist all the way. Though there were many around town who’d be willing to do psychic readings and bring people back from the dead, Kelly wasn’t one of them. With her call to Jackson, she obviously believed that Aimee was remembering something.

  “So listen. Tell me what you hear.”

  “Laughing. It’s soft. And...it makes me giggle more until I can’t stop because I don’t want her to stop.”

  “What are you doing?”

  She shook her head. “No, she’s doing it, and I’m laughing.”

  “What is she doing?”

  “She has bubbles on her hands...she’s blowing them and they go up in the air. I’m trying to catch them.”

  “Are you outside?”

  Still frowning, Aimee shook her head again. “No, I don’t know. I can’t see her, really, I just...know she’s blowing the bubbles. I’m watching the bubbles, not her.”

  “Can you see the sky?”

  Aimee shook her head.

  “Just relax. Do you feel air on your skin?”

  Another shake of the head, as Aimee shrugged.

  “Relax, Aimee. You’re okay. Don’t worry about what you don’t know. Just try to be in that moment. Is it bright? Do you see any colors?”

  “No. No, I’m sorry, I...” The words seemed to be filled with tears, as though Aimee was on the brink of crying. It took every ounce of self-control Jackson had to just sit there.

  “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. Your memory isn’t going to let you go any further with that today. You’re afraid of what’s coming aren’t you?”

  Aimee’s head movement, a nod, was barely perceptible that time.

  “You said you were ready to go back.”

  “I am.” The beautiful artist sounded certain.

  “Then go.”

  “The laughter. It’s the same, but I’m someplace different. And there aren’t any bubbles.”

  “Are you laughing?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I can’t see her. I don’t know where I am. It’s like I’m in a cloud or something. I can’t see anything. I just...”

  “Just what? This is where you stopped last time. If you need to stop again that’s fine.”

  Aimee’s hair bounced about her head with the force of her headshake. Her hands on the table clenched into fists. He could see the veins in her neck and shoulders, left bare by the spaghetti-strap dress and unlike that morning, this time there was absolutely no thought to her beauty, or what the sight of her did to him. This time, all he could see were the lines of tension in the cords of her neck, the way her veins were more prominent. And still she sat there, eyes closed.

  “Can you tell me what’s next?” He hadn’t intended to speak. The words just came. As though she’d pulled them from him. Which made about as much sense as the rest of what had happened since she’d rolled into town.

  “There’s nothing,” she said. And then stiffening, slammed both of her hands against her ears, shaking her head vigorously, back and forth over and over.

  Tears pushed through her closed lids, and Kelly asked, “What do you hear, Aimee?”

  “Screaming. Mama’s screaming and...” She shuddered. Dropped her hands. And opened her eyes, wiping them as though just becoming aware of the tears she was shedding. “I’m sorry.” Abruptly pushing away from the table, she went to the sink, washed her hands. Splashed her face. Wiped both with a paper towel. And stood there, her back to them.

  “I remember my mother screaming.” Her voice was low, almost as though she was talking to herself. “I don’t know where, or why. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know anything about any of it, but I am one-hundred-percent certain that that scream was real. And that it was hers.” Her shoulders hunched and he could tell the tears were still coming.

  Jackson started to stand, to go to her. He couldn’t just let her stand there, taking it all alone. Kelly reached out a raised hand, shaking her head.

  And he clenched the edges of his chair with both fists as he did her bidding. He’d hired her. It was his job to make certain she could do hers. Not to impede her.