"No cell service."

"You said the road was impassable?"

"That tidal pool halfway between here and-"

"It usually overflows during heavy rains."

"It has. All the way to the road."

"Then how'd you get here?"

He hesitated before saying, "Determination."

The gravelly tone behind the word made her tummy flutter. "I appreciate your checking on us. We're fine, but I could use some batteries if you have extras."

"Better than that, my house has a generator. It's listed as an amenity on the fact sheet I picked up at the rental office along with the key. If the power goes off, it comes on automatically, keeps the fridge, stove, and a few circuits working."

He glanced at the flickering candle on the table as well as at her scant reserves. "Those aren't going to last long. It's unlikely Stef will get back tonight, and it would be dangerous for her even to attempt it."

Amelia shifted from one foot to the other. "What are you saying?"

"I think you know."

She did know, and she shook her head. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because. Because I wouldn't think of putting you to the trouble."

"No trouble. It's a big house with lots of bedrooms, already made up for occupancy."

They looked at each other for several moments. Finally she said, "You know that's not the reason."

"Yeah. I know the reason. Last night. Just before I left."

She bobbed her head once.

"You don't have to worry about that."

"Of course I do."

"Okay, maybe you do. But you've got bigger worries than me, and I don't have to spell them out. Do you really want to be here alone in a dark house?"

"Mom, what are y'all talking about?"

She looked down at her eldest, who, she kept forgetting, was perceptive beyond his years. He sensed the tension between her and Dawson, but was unable to understand it. Seeing his young brow wrinkled with anxiety subverted Amelia's resolve.

When she looked again at Dawson, he extended his arms away from his sides, palms toward her. It was a subtle gesture, but meaningful, communicating that he didn't pose a threat.

"Dawson has asked us to spend the night at his house because he has lights."

Her last few words went unheard because of their whoops of glee. "Can we, Mom?"

"Can we go now?"

"Can I take some of my cars?"

"Let's save the cars for another time," Dawson told Grant. "I suggest you come right now, as you are, before the storm gets any worse."

"Can we, Mom?"

"I suppose that's-" Needing to hear no more, they left the kitchen at a run and pounded through the utility room. "Don't open the door till I get there!" She scribbled a note to Stef on a paper napkin, telling her where they were, and anchored it to the table with the salt shaker, then blew out the single candle, pitching the room into total darkness.

"Here, take my hand."

She was entrusting much more than her hand to the man who reached for her.

Chapter 10.

Although the boys were clamoring to leave, Amelia took time to grab each of them a change of clothing from the stacks of folded laundry on the utility-room table. Dawson had parked as close as possible to the back door, but it would still be impossible to reach his car without getting soaked.

He didn't worry about himself. He couldn't possibly get any wetter than he already was. They made a mad dash for the car. The boys were shrieking with laughter and excitement by the time they clambered into the backseat.

"Suddenly, they're not as cranky and afraid as before," she remarked when Dawson slid behind the wheel.

"It's an adventure now."

"I told them earlier we were having an adventure. They didn't buy it."

"Sitting in the dark is a different kind of adventure from running through the rain."

"True. But the real difference is you."

The statement gave him pause, but now wasn't the time to think about it. He started the car; the tires spun before gaining traction. As they pulled away, she remarked on Bernie's dark house.

"Do you mind if we stop and check on him?"

"Not at all. In fact, he should come with us."

He drove the short distance, got out of the car, and ran up to Bernie's back door, finding a sliver of shelter beneath the eaves. He knocked three times before Bernie appeared wearing a baggy pair of undershorts and a white T-shirt, with slippers and black socks on his feet. He was rubbing his left eye. His white hair was sticking out at odd angles.

Since they'd only been introduced once, the older man seemed astonished to see him, but he remembered his name. "Mr. Scott?"

"Sorry if I got you out of bed."

"I was reading. Just like Boy Scout camp." He held up the flashlight in his hand. "What are you doing out in this?"

"Amelia's with me. She and the boys are staying at my house for the rest of the night." He gestured toward the car.

Bernie regarded him with surprise, then leaned around him and peered at the car. He waved at it, although the passengers were blurs behind the foggy, rain-streaked windows. "Stef, too?"

"She's stuck in town."

"Oh."

Before the old man drew the wrong conclusion, Dawson explained. "The boys were afraid. The house I'm renting has a generator. Lights."

"Ah, of course."

"We think you should spend the night there, too."

"No, no, I'm fine here."

"You'd be more comfortable."

"I'm snug as a bug, and I've got plenty of backup batteries."

A bolt of lightning cracked nearby. Dawson instinctively ducked. When he recovered, he noticed Bernie regarding him curiously. Embarrassed by his conditioned reaction to the boom, he said, "That one was close."

"You'd better get Amelia and the kids tucked inside."

"I can't talk you into joining the party? There are more than enough bedrooms, and it could be a long night."

"Thank you. I appreciate the invitation, but I'm fine."

"At least agree to come over for breakfast."

Bernie smiled. "If you insist."

Dawson bade him good night and plunged back into the torrent. He couldn't help but sling rain onto Amelia as he got into the car, but she seemed not to notice.

"Is he all right?"

"I think I woke him up. He seemed to be okay. He didn't want to relocate."

"You explained why we were doing this?"

He placed his hand over his heart. "I made a point of preserving your reputation."

"Thank you for checking on him."

"No problem." The road was a morass, but they made it to the back door of his house without mishap. "Hold on, boys, let me help you up the steps. They could be slick."

He got out and opened the back door on the driver's side. Taking a boy by each hand, he walked them quickly but cautiously up the three wooden steps, unlocked the back door, then ushered them inside. When he flipped the switch, the overhead light came on. He'd been keeping his fingers crossed that the generator did, in fact, take over during a power loss.

"Wow!" Hunter exclaimed. "Look at that ship model." It was displayed on the long table that divided the kitchen from the living area.

"First, take off your shoes and leave them here by the back door so you don't track up the floor. Then you can go look at the ship. But don't touch. It doesn't belong to me."

He went back out, intending to assist Amelia, but she'd already alighted. Protecting the armload of clothes she was carrying, she was picking her way around the deepest puddles. He went down the steps and took her elbow. "I was coming back for you. You should have waited."

"I'm okay."

As soon as she'd cleared the threshold of the back door, she pulled her arm free of his grasp. "I haven't been in this house since the owners renovated it. It's-"

He stepped directly in front of her, blocking her view. "Are you going to flinch every time I come near you?"

"I didn't flinch."

"Hell you didn't."

Her chin went up a fraction, but the trace of defiance was short-lived, and she dropped her gaze to somewhere in the vicinity of the second button of his shirt. "You're smart enough to understand how awkward this is for me."

"Because of the near kiss."

He didn't phrase it as a question, and she offered no reply, but only continued to stare straight ahead until the silence between them became strained. Finally she looked into his face again.

"Your virtue is safe with me," he said. "Okay?"

She nodded.

"Okay?" he repeated.

Even though she nodded a second time, he felt that she wasn't entirely convinced. He certainly wasn't.

Hunter and Grant missed the awkward exchange because, as with everything having to do with Dawson, they were fascinated by "his" house.

It was tastefully furnished and had amenities to recommend it, but it lacked the warmth and personality of hers, which had been purchased strictly for her family's use and was never rented out. Over the years it had accumulated personal keepsakes, family photographs, the marks and scars of living that made a house a home.

However, her sons didn't seem to miss the hominess. They were enthralled, particularly by the matching set of bunk beds in the upstairs bedroom to which Dawson led them. "Each of you can have a top bunk."

"Be careful on those ladders," Amelia cautioned as they started up the rungs.

Grant said, "I wish this was our room all the time."

Hunter declared that he wished they could live there forever.

Amelia smiled. "Well, before you get the bedcovers wet, come back down and change."