Rose gasped audibly. For a long moment she stood frozen, not moving so much as an eyelash. Then she snapped her mouth shut, marched over to the bed, drew back her hand, and slapped Sage's face. "I came to tell you that your father is dead. I pulled the plug on him this morning."

Then she was gone.

Three days later, Sage attempted to attend her father's funeral. Rose's boyfriend met her at the door to the church and told her in no uncertain terms that she wasn't welcome there. She didn't see Rose to confirm the fact, but she didn't have the heart to force the issue. It had taken everything she had to get dressed and make the trip to the church. She had nothing left.

Two weeks after the funeral, Sage managed to drag her brooding self to the grocery store. Paying little attention to her surroundings, she stepped out in front of a moving car-an accident, she insisted, not sure if deep down inside she believed it. She bounced off the hood and onto the pavement, conking her head. The world had faded to black.

She awakened in the emergency room of a civilian hospital near the army base where Rose practiced medicine. She gave her sister's name as next of kin and asked the ER nurse to notify her sister.

When she returned a half hour later, the nurse was frowning. "I'm not sure your sister understood our message, Ms. Anderson. Her response doesn't make sense."

"What did she say?"

"She said that if you wanted medical care, you should call and make an appointment."

Her head pounding, her heart broken, Sage closed her eyes and drifted away.

Now, almost five years later, she watched as the leaf floating on the surface of Hummingbird Lake grew waterlogged and sank.

Heaving a sigh, Sage leaned back on her elbows and lifted her face to the sky. What was she going to do? What did she want to do?

She missed her sister.

She missed her family. And yet she'd made a new family here in Eternity Springs. Nic and Sarah and Celeste. Ali, too. Over the past few months, she'd grown especially close to Ali, despite-or perhaps due to-the fact that she lived in Denver. Email offered a certain intimacy that had allowed them both to share things they might not have said in person, she believed. Part of it, too, might be that Ali and Rose were close in age. Ali had slipped into that big-sister role so easily.

Sage didn't need Rose in her life. Shoot, Ali and the rest scolded as enthusiastically as Rose ever had. Sage had lost one sister and found four others. Well, three others. Celeste wasn't exactly a sister figure. Not exactly a mother figure, either. She was a combination mother, sister, confessor, conscience, girlfriend, best friend, cheerleader, and more. Sage had filled in all the roles Rose had occupied with other people. She was doing fine in her life without Rose, thank you very much.

And still, she missed her. Maybe because one other aspect of sisterhood did exist and no one else could fill it. Rose was the only one on earth who shared her history. No one else knew what it was like to live in the Anderson family. No one else knew what it was like to have the Colonel as a father. No one else on the planet had known Sage since the day she'd been born.

All that meant that no one else had the power to hurt Sage as much as Rose. She'd certainly exercised that power, hadn't she?

And now she was here.

And Sage still didn't have a clue what she wanted to do about it.

Colt stewed the whole eight-minute drive back to town.

Whether she liked it or not, Sage Anderson was a big part of his decision to return to Eternity Springs, and he'd never been one to let a little b.u.mp in the path make him take a different road. So what if she wasn't thrilled with his news? His timing had been bad. She'd been preoccupied with her sister's sudden appearance.

A sister. Another mystery.

Colt made a quick stop at the Trading Post for more steaks. He rapped on the door at Sarah Reese's house and offered up a sheepish grin when she opened the door. "Have you already had your dinner?"

"No, why?"

"I struck out with Sage. I have beef and need advice, and Shadow would love to play with Daisy and Duke."

"Hmm ..." She folded her arms. "I'm your second choice, huh? What a blow to my ego."

"Hey, you blew your chance to be my number one when you refused to go parking with me when I was a soph.o.m.ore in high school."

"One of my life's great regrets ... not. You were in your dad's minivan." She stepped back and waved him inside. "C'mon in and feed me, then you can tell me all about it."

Colt carried his grocery sack into Sarah's kitchen, where he found Lori painting her grandmother's nails. Ellen Reese was a lovely woman, an older version of Sarah, with middle-stage Alzheimer's disease. She remembered his family from their summers in Eternity and asked Lori three times in five minutes the name of the color the teenager had put on her nails. While Sarah put away the hamburger she'd been preparing to cook, he shared his news about his move.

"Wow. Big changes," Sarah said. Curiosity gleamed in her eyes, but he took the hint when she added, "I can't wait to hear more about it after dinner."

She put him in charge of her charcoal grill, and Lori accompanied him outdoors, asking him questions about living in Texas. "I can't believe you're old enough to be going off to college. When do you leave?"

"Mid-August. Right after the summer arts festival."

"Are you excited?"

"Yes. And scared. I'm told it's harder to get into vet school than medical school, and I want to be a vet so badly. What if I can't do the work? What if I screw it up? You were a college professor, right? Do you have any tips for me?"

"I do." With the fire ready, he spread the steaks upon the grill. As the juices. .h.i.t the coals and sizzled, he said, "You do this one thing and I guarantee you'll be fine."

He paused, waited until she met his gaze, then told her, "Be true to yourself, Lori. If you're true to yourself in everything you do, every decision you make, you'll be fine and you'll achieve your goals."

"Wow. That's profound." Lori beamed a smile at him. "Thanks, Dr. Rafferty. I'll bet you were a great professor."

"I tried."

Her eyes glinted impishly as she added, "I'll bet the girls in your cla.s.ses called you Dr. Hottie."

He frowned professorially. "Brat. You are your mother's daughter, aren't you?"

She laughed, then picked up a tennis ball from a basket of dog toys and stepped down into the backyard to play with the dogs.

Colt enjoyed the meal and the company, but he was glad when dinner was over and the dishes done and Sarah said, "I need to do a couple things at the store. Want to walk over there with me? Shadow will be fine with my dogs."

"Sure."

At the Trading Post, Sarah removed a set of keys from her pocket and opened the door. In another couple of weeks the store would switch to summer hours, but for now the place was empty and quiet and offered the perfect spot for its owner to turn on him and say, "Spill it. What happened?"

"I'm hoping you can tell me."

"You go first. You went out to see Sage?"

"Yeah." He summarized the exchange with Sage, short of sharing the fact that he'd floated the L-word, and ended it by saying, "I thought I knew what was going on with her. Now I'm wondering if I didn't have it all wrong."

"Our girl Sage is in many ways a mystery."

"Yes, one I need to solve. I'm not asking you to betray any confidences, but what's the deal with her sister?"

Sarah lifted her shoulders. "I don't know. I didn't even know she had a sister until today."

Okay, then. A secret sister was one big fat clue. Colt had thought that the trouble in Africa was the source of Sage's grief. Had he been wrong? Had he missed the mark entirely?

Family, he thought with an inward sigh. A good family was such a gift, but a bad family could do infinite harm.

"Did Sage tell you anything about her?"

Sarah went around behind the checkout counter and pulled out a manila file folder stuffed with papers. "Not really. She said they'd had a falling out, and then the two of them had that little snarky exchange that you saw. Then Sage drove around the block until she made sure that Rose-that's her name-had gone. I tried to get her to spill the beans about the estrangement, but no go. She's always been tight-lipped, Colt, and that didn't change today."

"That's frustrating."

"Ya think?" Sarah wrinkled her nose. "I love Sage. I truly do. But the woman has issues with a capital I. That's something I've learned to accept."

If all he wanted from Sage was friendship, he'd probably take the same route. But he wanted more than friendship. He wanted more from Sage.

"She's going to try to shut me out and keep me out."

"Maybe. If she feels like you are a threat in some way. Are you?"

"No. Maybe. I guess that depends upon the context." When Sarah gave him a sharp look, he explained. "I'm not out to hurt her. She means something to me, Sarah. She's important. But I won't let her push me away."

"Good luck with that. She's a stubborn woman."

"Yeah, but I'm persistent. I'll wear her down."

"With more gifts?"

"No," he replied, thinking it through.

Colt was a minor student of military history, and as such, he knew something about campaigns and sieges. It had taken the allied Greek forces ten years to conquer Troy. The British held Gibraltar against Spanish and French forces for more than three and a half years. It had taken General Grant seven months to conquer Vicksburg.

Colt hoped that winning Sage wouldn't take nearly that long.

"She's going to have to deal with me in some way every day. I'm not going away."

"Won't you be traveling with your new job?"

"I don't have to be in Eternity Springs for her to deal with me."

"Wow. You are determined, aren't you? You know, that is pretty romantic." She chewed on her lower lip a second before adding, "I want to ask one thing of you, though, Colt. Make sure you are doing this because it's real, not because you want to win the contest. You could hurt her."

"She could hurt me, too. That's a risk of being in a relationship. It's not a contest, Sarah, but there is a prize. I do want the happily ever after. I think I could find it with Sage. Time will tell."

"Dang it." Sarah picked up the folder and tucked it under her arm. "I'm beginning to think that I'm the one who missed the chance. Maybe I should have gone parking with you in your minivan after all."

She walked out from behind the counter, went up on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. "Good luck, Dr. Rafferty. I'll be rooting for you."

"Thanks."

"But fair warning-if you hurt her, I'll make you pay."

"I've known you for half my life, Sarah Reese. That goes without saying."

FIFTEEN.

Sage arrived at Vistas the following day ready to paint. Despite a restless night, she awoke with the itchy energy that signaled an idea perking in her mind. She grasped hold of it like a lifeline and hurried through her morning routine before rushing off to work. She had two solid hours to work before opening Vistas, and the b.u.t.terflies were flying, so to speak.

She adored working in her remodeled studio, though sometimes she didn't believe it herself. No one who had known her in her medical days would believe she worked in these conditions. Even in the African bush, Dr. Anderson's work area had been organized and uncluttered, her supplies pristine.

Here in the Vistas studio, she worked amidst a disorganized jumble. She had props of all kinds for inspiration-stacks of magazines, silk flowers and vines, funky furniture and fabrics, boas and beads. This was a mess, the perfect home for Sage Anderson, the artist.

She especially loved the lighting. She'd added two new skylights in the remodel. Along with the two front windows and the single one on the side, the new skylights created the perfect light, and when she walked into the room, the real world went soft and mellow and fantastical. As usual, she switched on her stereo and the sound of cla.s.sic rock helped transport her into her creative world.

Here in her world of fairies and fantasy, Sage wasn't herself, but somebody new and unique and ... clean. Here, she liked who she was, and each time she visited, she took some of that world away from her when she left. She felt a little bit cleaner each time she returned to the real world.

She hoped that eventually, she'd bring along enough of the clean back with her that she'd be the new Sage in both places.

Fleetwood Mac played in the background as she created. Using mostly blues and greens and yellows, she brought a world to life that made her smile as she stood at the easel, confident that the finished work would please her patrons. When the cuckoo clock on the wall that served as her alarm sounded ten o'clock, even though it was only nine thirty-five, she stepped away from the easel, turned to wash out her brush, and stopped abruptly.

Colt Rafferty sat on the sill of the open window of the building next door, directly across from her open window. "h.e.l.lo, beautiful."

"What are you doing?"

"Not working, unfortunately. Too distracted by the scenery. It's obvious I'm going to have to move my desk. Say, do you want to go to lunch later?"

"Hold it. Stop. That's Gabe's building. What are you doing in Gabe's building?"

"This is my new office. I talked to Gabe last week. Got a great deal on the rent-he thinks the other office has a better view. He's a better architect than he is a businessman, I think."

While she gaped, he stepped across the narrow divide between the two buildings and into her studio. "You can't do that."

"It's barely four feet across. It's an easy step."

"I didn't mean that you can't do that. I meant that you can't do it."

He ignored her, looking around the room. "Wow. Your home studio wasn't like this. This place is a mess. What's up with that?"

But even as she drew a breath to defend herself, he approached her easel and said, "Sage, this is really interesting. Your work shows more depth all the time. You've grown."

"Good heavens, you are such a jerk."

"So, you gonna go to lunch with me?"

If she looked into the mirror on her right, she thought, she just might see steam coming out her ears. Instead she looked left at the cuckoo clock. "I have to open the gallery. See yourself out, Rafferty."

She left the room and headed downstairs, grimacing at the knowledge that she'd left her brushes filled with paint. She never neglected her brushes. Never!