She put her hands on her hips. "For what you're doing for Harriet. And for searching the birth records. And my toe. I know I don't deserve any of your kindness, but I want you to know that I appreciate it." She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

"You're welcome," he said, a slow grin spreading on his lips. His boots clumped down the steps of the gazebo. "Good-bye, Cassie. I'll talk to you later."

"Sure. Talk to you later. Drive carefully."

He walked several yards before turning around to face her again. "Best sex you ever had, huh?"

She picked up her sandal and threw it at his retreating back, narrowly missing him. She watched as he hiked up his pants and walked toward the back door with a deliberate and exaggerated swagger. Burying her face again on her drawn-up knees, she let herself laugh.

Eighteen.

The rain was dripping off the blue-and-white sheriff 's car parked in the drive when Cassie came around to the front of the house. The make and model of the vehicle was most likely a lot more recent than that of Sheriff Hank Adams, whom Cassie remembered from child-hood. He'd once played football for the University of Georgia before a career-ending injury had moved him back home to Walton, pinned a badge on him, and slid him into a government-issue Crown Victoria. From her brief run-ins with Sheriff Adams during her youth, she knew his heart was as big as his bulldog chest. Still, the sight of his car gave her a start, and she ran up the steps, wondering what had happened.

She found her aunt pouring iced tea for the lawman in the front par-lor. He rose and gave her a wide grin.

"How ya doin', Cassie? Still up to tricks?" He winked, and she blushed, recalling the time he'd caught her hauling Principal Purdy's boxers atop the high school flagpole. He'd promised to keep quiet if she'd return the article of clothing to the clothesline where she'd found it.

"I'm doing fine-thanks for asking." She wrinkled her nose. "And I'm not a teenager anymore, so you can stop your night patrolling. I stay in bed at night now."

He winked again. "That's what I've heard." He turned to Aunt Lucinda and guffawed loudly. "Mrs. Crandall seems to recall Dr. Parker returning to his house in the wee hours of Saturday morning wearing the same clothes he had on the night before." He sent Cassie a wink as Lucinda looked down into her tea, and Cassie choked.

Finding her voice again, she asked, "Is this a social call, or is something wrong?"

"Well, I hate to say it, but this is official. Your aunt called me about them trees. Seems like somebody's deliberately vandalized them."

"Are you sure? What kind of a person vandalizes trees?"

The large man shrugged. "Same kind of person who hunts an endangered animal-pure meanness, is all. I suspect it's some of those kids from that new neighborhood behind your property. Ain't got nothin' better to do until school starts."

Cassie crossed her arms. "Are there any other houses with damaged trees? I'm finding this a little difficult to believe."

"Yep-yours and two others; the Ladues' and the Pritchards'. Seems they skipped right over the Haneys'. Guess because they don't have any big trees ever since the hurricane two summers ago wiped them all out. But whoever it was stripped the bark clean off the bottom of all twelve of your live oaks. I've told your aunt here to have them tarred just as soon as she can before all the sap runs out of them and they bleed to death." He beat his hat against his knee. "Those trees are over a hundred years old. It would be a real shame to lose them all."

Deflated from the day's events, Cassie sagged into an armchair. "This is unbelievable."

The sheriff rose to leave. "Yep. Sure is. I'll send a patrol car to keep an eye on your place at night, so don't be alarmed if you hear a car. But I doubt you'll have any more problems."

He stood to go, but Cassie called him back. "Sheriff, would you mind looking at this number and telling me if you're familiar with it?" She slid the paper from her pocket.

Sheriff Adams took one look at it and smiled broadly. "Yep. Know this one real well. It's the number of the pay phone outside the Dixie Diner. Used to use it all the time before I got my cell phone." He handed the paper back to her. "Why did you want to know?"

Cassie shrugged, crumpling the paper in her hand. "No reason, really. I had a phone call come in on my cell phone from that number and just wanted to know where they were calling from."

The sheriff nodded, drained his glass of iced tea, then tipped his hat and said, "Ladies," and left.

Lucinda picked up the tray with the tea and glasses and headed toward the kitchen just as the phone rang. Cassie grabbed the phone in the foyer before the second ring.

"Hello, Cassandra? It's Andrew."

She paused for a long moment before answering. "Andrew? How are you?" She wanted to smack herself on the forehead. She really wasn't good at these surprise phone calls.

"I'm fine. I've been thinking about you."

"Really." She wasn't going to lie and tell him she'd given him more than a passing thought since he'd left.

"Yeah, really. As a matter of fact, I was just talking to the VisEx people about you today."

"Oh." She tried to calm the excitement in her voice. She had been working on acquiring the VisEx account for over two years. It would have been a real coup to get them to jump ship from their current agency and sign with Andrew's. "And what did they say?"

"That they were ready to sign with me. On one condition."

Alump lodged in Cassie's throat. She had a sick feeling she knew what he was about to say.

"They'll only sign if you manage the account."

She held the phone tightly, her gaze straying outside to the porch and then beyond to the magnolia, its glossy leaves winking in the wind. "I don't know what to say, Andrew. This sounds really excit-ing, and it would be an excellent opportunity for me. But I meant it when I said we were finished, and I just can't imagine working for you again."

There was a long pause filled with empty air. "I know, and I can understand what you're saying. And even though I still don't understand your reasoning about us, I can promise you I'll back off for now. Because I want you to seriously think of the opportunity this would be for both of us. It would be the biggest account we've got, and you'd be calling the shots."

Just a month before, she would have been beyond elated with this news. But now she could barely find even a drop of enthusiasm. She couldn't say that it was just Harriet's illness, although that was a large part. There was something else there; something she couldn't quite put her finger on. "I don't know, Andrew. This is all pretty sudden."

"Cassandra." His voice was stern, as a parent would speak to a recalcitrant child. "You worked too hard for this to give it up. And think about what it would do for the agency."

Her gaze wandered up the stairs and toward the portrait of Great-great-great-grandfather Madison. His eyes seemed to narrow slightly as she studied it. "I . . . I really don't know. And I can't give you an answer right now. When do you need to know?"

"They're in their current contract until next February. But they won't sign without knowing you'll be there. Come on, Cassandra. Do you want me to lose the account?"

Andrew's crowning glory was his ability to elicit guilt. It almost worked now. "I told you, I can't give you an answer right now. I need time."

She could hear his chair slamming against the wall behind his desk, something he did frequently when upset. "How much time?"

"I don't know.A month. Maybe more. I just don't know."

"Cassandra . . ." She pictured him doing his deep-breathing technique. "Okay, fine. If time is what you need, then time is what you've got. I'll talk to Mike at VisEx and get back to you."

"Okay, fine. You do that. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. Good-bye."

The dial tone droned in her ear. Slowly hanging up the phone, she walked over to the screen door and looked out toward the row of oaks, her mind deep in thought. Her gaze traveled across the lawn past the live oaks and toward her magnolia, and her eyes widened with a start. Jerking open the door, she ran out of the house toward the tree. Running her hands over the beloved trunk, she checked for fresh scars and was relieved out of all proportion that the tree was unscathed. She sank down onto the damp leaves beneath it and watched as Aunt Lucinda picked her way across the yard in her high heels.

"There you are, precious. I figured this was where you'd run off to."

Cassie peered at this sweet woman who had done so much for her. She knew Lucinda loved Harriet and herself as if they were her own daughters. And what she was about to tell her would hurt deeply. "Sit down, Aunt Lu. I have something to tell you."

Without hesitation, Lucinda sat down next to Cassie on the damp leaves. "It's about Harriet, isn't it?"

Cassie nodded, not surprised at her aunt's intuition. She'd always been like that. The woman had unseen radar that could detect a broken heart or hurt feelings from over a mile away. She'd been the source of comfort for all the bumps and bruises of childhood and then, later, for the biggest broken heart of all.

Before she could speak, the older woman reached out and took Cassie's hand. "It's bad, isn't it? I've had one of my feelings for over a month now, and I just can't seem to shake it."

Cassie squeezed her hand, seeking comfort. "Aunt Lu, they've . . . they've found cancer in both breasts. Sam's scheduling appointments for her with some specialists in Atlanta." A lump lodged itself in her throat, and she swallowed. "But she's pregnant, and she won't seek the best treatments because it could harm the baby."

She looked at her aunt, ready to lean her head on the familiar shoulder and wait for the comforting pats that had always made everything seem better. Instead, she watched her aunt's face crumple and tears erupt on the finely wrinkled face. When Lucinda rested her head on Cassie's shoulder, Cassie instinctively placed her arm around her and held tightly. She gave her gentle pats, remembering their powerful healing benefits, and waited for Lucinda's sobs to subside.

A leftover gust from the storm shook the magnolia, making the glossy green leaves weep heavy raindrops down on them.

"Let's go inside." Cassie stood and offered her hand to her aunt. They walked back to the house together, Aunt Lucinda leaning heavily on her, and Cassie wondered exactly when it had happened that she had finally grown up.

The bell over the door at the Dixie Diner chimed brightly as Cassie pushed it open. At six-thirty a.m. there was a surprising hubbub in the small restaurant. The sheriff, Senator Thompkins, Ed Farrell, and Hal Newcomb, the editor in chief of the Walton Sentinel, sat at a corner booth. They raised coffee cups in her direction. Cassie thought she caught a glance of sympathy from Sheriff Adams and quickly looked away. Already, Harriet's house was filling up with casseroles, pies, and hams. It reminded Cassie of a funeral, and she wanted to shout at the top of her lungs from the town hall that Harriet was only sick and that Cassie had no intention of letting her die.

She spotted her old friend Mary Jane at the counter, a copy of the morning edition and a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. With a guarded smile, she waved Cassie to the place next to her.

Cassie smiled back, unsure of how things stood between them. Mary Jane had been her best friend for so many years while growing up, but things had changed, and Sam Parker wasn't a small part of that change. She air-kissed her old friend on the cheek, as she had learned to do in New York, wondering why as she did it. "Thanks for meeting me for breakfast. I know I promised you lunch, but I have a feeling I'm not going to have a lot of free time for the foreseeable future."

Mary Jane took a short sip from her mug. "I heard. I think it's a brave thing you're doing, watching all those kids while Harriet and Joe are in Atlanta." She grinned. "Whatever possessed you? Of all the people I can think of who would qualify-"

Cassie held up her hand. "I know, but I owe Harriet. I owe her big time." She didn't say any more, but had a clear picture in her head of the scene in the attic. "Plus, I love her kids. A bit rambunctious, sure, but they're great. Nothing I can't handle."

Mary Jane didn't comment, but raised an eyebrow. The waitress came to take their order, and Cassie placed hers. With just a fleeting thought of fat grams and calories, she ordered the blue-plate special of fried eggs, bacon, hash browns, and grits.

As Mary Jane ordered, Cassie's gaze wandered over the restaurant toward the diner's window. The reverse letters of the restaurant's name arched over the glass, transferring the yellow morning glow that shone through them to pink fingers of light reaching across the laminated tables. She recalled when she and Harriet were small and their father used to bring them to the diner for lunch. They would sit in the same corner booth, and Harriet would always read the letters on the window backward, thinking it was a hoot. She hadn't understood they were just the backs of the letters. Cassie would call her stupid because Harriet couldn't figure it out.

The waitress said something to her, bringing her back to the present. Cassie handed her the menu, then turned toward Mary Jane. "Have you ever wanted to recall words you've said to your brother in the past?"

Mary Jane leaned close. "We all do, Cassie. Especially to our siblings. I think we learn what buttons to push while still in the womb. It just is. And remember, you're sitting next to the person solely responsible for her brother's lifelong nickname of Stinky. Now that's something to be proud of."

The waitress filled Cassie's mug with coffee as the bell by the front door jangled again. Two men in heavy work boots, stained T-shirts, and overgrown beard stubble stomped into the diner and took seats at the other end of the counter. Cassie and Mary Jane eyed the group of men in the corner warily.

Mary Jane leaned over. "Those are Roust's men. They're working on the old Olsen property. Remember that big house? They're getting ready to level it and build a new Wal-Mart on the lot." She wrinkled her nose as if the men sitting ten feet away already reeked of sweat and hard Georgia clay.

Cassie slid a look at the workmen. "What's wrong with the old Wal-Mart?"

Mary Jane nodded. "Exactly. That's what Sam's trying to knock into the council's thick skulls." She thanked the waitress as her plate was put in front of her. "Sam's missing an important town council meeting this evening. They're taking votes on that moratorium; it'll save the Olsen home if it passes. At least for now." Taking a bite out of her toast, she daintily wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. "Sam's asked me to go and speak for him, but I don't have his powerful way of talking. He can be very persuasive when he wants to be."

"That's for sure." She felt herself coloring and took a bite of hash browns to hide it.

Mary Jane sent her an arch look. "And I guess you would know."

Cassie stopped chewing for a moment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind." Mary Jane took another bite of toast, and they continued eating, chatting about old friends and new clothes, waving to the stream of townspeople that flowed in and out of the front door. The bell chimed again and again, as if to remind the two women of the one subject looming between them that needed to be avoided.

When Ed Farrell got up to leave, he approached Mary Jane and Cassie at the counter. With a nod in Cassie's direction, he addressed Mary Jane. "I guess I'll be seeing you at the meeting tonight. I'm sorry Sam won't be here, but it will be a shorter meeting without him."

Mary Jane swiveled on her stool. "Don't be so sure of that, Ed. Sam has given me a ten-page speech of what he wants covered. I wouldn't schedule any early-morning appointments if I was you."

He looked agitated. "Yeah, well. I gotta go. I'm supposed to trim Miss Lena's hedges, but first I've got an appointment to show your house, Cassie." He leaned closer to her. "Aunt Lucinda told me about the call from New York. You do know that I'd be willing to help you out by buying the house myself and then selling it to a nice family." He held up his hand. "Don't give me an answer now; just think about it. It could be the answer to your problems. You'd be able to return to New York scot-free, and your beautiful house will be left in capable hands."

Cassie nodded. "Thanks, Ed. I'll definitely think about it."

He patted her on the back, then left. Mary Jane looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "You've got to be kidding, right? I wouldn't sell that man my house if he paid me a million bucks. Don't you remember how mean he was in high school? How he used to pick on Sam?"

Cassie took a brief sip of her coffee. "That was ages ago. He's changed. What you don't seem to recall is how we used to pick on him. I find it nothing short of a miracle that he wants to even do business with me."

Jane shook her head. "There's something up with him; I just haven't figured out what it is yet."

Senator Thompkins left the other table and approached, turning to Cassie with a grim look. "I wish you'd talk Sam out of this foolishness. He's just wasting his energy fighting progress. And I'm sure you've got ways to distract him."

Cassie felt the heat flame her cheeks again as the grill sizzled behind the counter with another order of hash browns. She took a gulp of scalding coffee, burning her tongue but glad for the excuse not to answer. Choking down iced water, she waved the senator out the door.

"I can't believe he said that. I mean, does the whole town know?"

Mary Jane put down her fork. "Know what? That you slept with him last Friday night? Yeah, I'd say so." She smoothed the paper napkin on her lap. "But what I'd like to know is what does it mean? Was it a one-night stand, or are you after a bit more?" Her voice held a note of forced lightness. "I wish you'd just go ahead and stake your claim or leave town, because the suspense is killing me. I'd like to know if I should start nursing my broken heart or give it another chance."

Cassie set her mug down with a quiet thud. "I . . . I don't know. . . ."

Mary Jane leaned closer. "Sam Parker is the most stubborn, pigheaded man I know. I also know he's the most sincere, kindhearted man I've ever met-and a damned fine doctor. It doesn't hurt that he looks pret-ty devastating in a pair of Levi's, either. And I'd give my left arm for him to look at me just once the way that he looks at you." She wiped the back of her hand roughly over her eyes and turned her head. "I don't know why I'm selling his virtues to you. I should be selling you a one-way ticket out of town. But I just can't stand to see him suffer so. He doesn't deserve it."

"I never meant to hurt anybody-especially not Sam. He knows how things stand between us. And Mary Jane, you of all people should understand. You were with me all through my growing up. I never belonged here; I never intended to stay. Sam belongs here, and I belong in New York-end of story. I have no claims on him." She bit her lip, wondering if what she said was true.

Mary Jane picked up the check from the aqua Formica. She bent over toward Cassie. "You just pretended you didn't belong to separate your-self from Harriet. It made you stand out-like your outrageous pranks. But you're an adult now. It's time you started acting like one." She slid off her stool and stood. "I love him, and everything was fine between us until you came into town. So grow up and make your decision, because watching the two of you is killing me." She pushed in her stool. "Thanks for having breakfast with me, but I've got to get to the clinic."

Cassie watched as her old friend paid her check and left through the door, the bell announcing her exit. She took another sip of coffee, try-ing to swallow the bitter taste in her throat.

She stayed in the diner for another cup of coffee, waving to people as they came through the door and enjoying the last peace and quiet she would probably see in quite a while.

As she was going through her purse to pay her check, her cell phone rang. Flipping it open, she answered the call.

"Hello?"

Again, there was no response, just light breathing at the other end and then a quick click as the caller hung up. Cassie looked at the number registered on the screen, recognizing it as the same one used earlier. The pay phone outside the diner. Her head jerked toward the front of the building with the two huge windows, realizing that they did not afford a view of the corner where the phone was located.

Leaping from her stool, she ran to the door, almost running into the Sedgewick twins, who were entering the building. Doing her best to squeeze by them, she plunged outside on the sidewalk, only to find the phone abandoned, the receiver dangling by its cord.

Cassie glanced around, looking for anybody running, appearing out of place, or watching her intently. All she saw were people going about their business in the slow, smalltown pace she had come to rec-ognize. With a sigh, she turned around and went back into the diner to pay her bill. Fortified now with both adrenaline and caffeine to get her through any difficulty, she drove Lucinda's pink car to Harriet's house.

Joe met her at the front door and handed her Amanda with a very heavy and pungent diaper. "Thanks, Cassie. Would you mind changing her? And I've got a bottle in the refrigerator if she gets hungry. I'll be upstairs helping Harriet pack if you need anything." He closed the door behind Cassie, then ran ahead of her up the steps.