He'd never worried overmuch about taking risks, as nothing worthwhile could be gained without them. But each step he took now pushed him farther down a strange and fascinating road. One he wasn't traveling solo.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Nell shifted her gaze up to where Mac leaned over the top of her head. "I'm sure."

"It's just that I don't want you to feel obliged." He attached the next electrode. "Don't think you have to be polite to the crazy man. You can just tell me to forget it."

"Mac. I don't think you're crazy, and I don't feel polite. I feel interested."

"That's good." He skirted around the sofa where she was stretched out, looked down at her. As he'd told her once before, she sparkled. She was also, he sensed, very open. "I'm going to be careful. I'm going to go slow. But anytime you want to stop, you just say so. And that's it."

"Got it, and I will." Her dimples fluttered. "Stop worrying about me."

"It's not just you." At her questioning look, he dragged a hand through his hair. "Everything I do now, even somehow what I don't do, affects Ripley. I don't know how I know that. It's not really logical. But I know it."

"You're connected," Nell said softly. "As I am. Neither of us will do anything to hurt her." She touched a hand to the back of his. "But both of us will, more than likely, do things that will annoy her. I guess we'll just have to handle it."

"I guess we will. Okay, well ..." He gestured vaguely with the two electrodes in his hands. "I need to put these ... You see, we'll need to monitor your heart rate, so..."

She looked at the little white adhesive, back up at his face. "Ah."

"If you feel uncomfortable or weird about that, we'll just skip that part."

She studied his expression and decided the only man she trusted more than the one currently trying not to look embarrassed was her husband. "In for a penny," she said and unbuttoned her blouse.

He was quick, efficient, and gentle.

"Just relax and be comfortable. We'll get your resting rates."

He turned away from her to work with the machines that he'd hauled over from the cottage. He hadn't intended to bring them, or to do the test-not yet. But when Nell had come back to the cottage with him, she'd asked questions. Polite interest at first, he thought, then more direct, more detailed.

Before either of them realized it, they were discussing physical reactions of magic. Brain-wave patterns, lobes, pulse rates. And she was agreeing to participate in a series of tests.

"So, where'd you learn to cook?"

"My mother. That's where my interest started. After we lost my father, she started her own catering business."

He adjusted dials, watched the graph. "Ever think about opening a restaurant?"

"I gave it a passing thought, but I don't want the structure or the limitations. I like my catering operation, and working in Mia's cafe. Though I am toying with ideas there. I think we-she," Nell corrected, "could expand a bit. Outdoor seating in the season. Maybe a cooking club. I'm going to talk to her about it when I have it more formulated in my mind."

"You've got a head for business."

"Oh, absolutely." And she said it with no small sense of pride. "I ran that end of my mother's operation. I like to organize."

"And create. You create with your cooking."

She dimpled again, with sheer pleasure. "That's a nice thing to say."

"It's a gift, like your power is a gift." Her vital signs were steady and stable. He checked the readout on the EKG, made some quick notes on his laptop.

"I wonder when you knew you were gifted. It seems to me Mia was born knowing."

"She was. We've talked about it."

"And Ripley."

"She doesn't talk about it as much, but I think it was almost the same. A knowing, always."

And a burden? he wondered. Always? "For you?"

"A discovery, and a learning process. I had dreams when I was a child, of this place, of people I'd yet to meet. But I never thought of them as-I don't know-memories or foretelling. Then, after Evan ..." Her hands tensed, deliberately relaxed again. "I forgot them, or blocked them. When I left, my only clear thought was to run, to get away. But the dreams started coming back."

"Did they frighten you?"

"No, not at all. They were a comfort at first, then a kind of need. One day I saw a painting-the lighthouse, the cliffs, Mia's home-and I needed to be there. It was a ... a destination. Do you know what it's like to find out where it is you finally need to be?"

He thought of the house near the cove. "Yes. I do exactly."

"Then you know it's not just a relief, but a thrill. I drove onto the ferry that day in June, and when I caught my first glimpse of the Sisters, I thought-there.Finally. I could belong there."

"You recognized it."

"Part of me did. Another part just yearned. Then I met Mia, and everything began."

He continued to monitor her, one part of his brain ruthlessly calculating changes, peaks, dips. "Would you say she tutored you?"

"Yes, though she would say she just reminded me." Nell turned her head so she could look at Mac. How cool he looks, she realized. Cool and controlled. And yet his voice was warm, friendly. "The first time she helped me try magic, I stirred the air."

"How did it feel?"

"Amazing, exciting. And, somehow, familiar."

"Could you do it now?"

"Now?"

"If you're comfortable with it. Nothing major. I don't want you to spin your furniture around. A little ripple for my readings."

"You're such an interesting man, Mac."

"Excuse me?"

"Just a little ripple for your readings," she said with a chuckle. "No wonder Ripley's crazy about you."

"What?"

"Here, then. A little ripple in the air, just a stir from here to there. A quiet breeze, this man to please."