W hen Frankie came around, she was in Nate's arms in the kitchen. Alex, Joy and George were staring at her.

"Guess she isn't used to good news," George said as he chewed on a cookie."I'm okay," she murmured, pushing against Nate's chest.

He put a gla.s.s of orange juice in front of her. "Drink this."

"No, I'm really okay." She got to her feet, amused to find the ring clutched in her hand. Even when she'd been unconscious, she'd known enough not to lose the thing.

As she looked at the diamond, she thought, so this was what winning the lottery felt like. It was good. Really, really d.a.m.n good.

"Isn't this just amazing!" Joy exclaimed.

"You'll have better luck selling it down in the city," Nate said. "I've got some friends in the diamond district who can take care of it for you."

Frankie nodded. "But let's find out what it's worth, first. I'll take it to Albany tomorrow. To the jeweler who sold Grand-Em's other rings."

There was a pause. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

She smiled and then, suddenly, she couldn't stop beaming. "You know what we need to do? Let's go out to dinner. To celebrate. Let's get Grand-Em and go to the Silver Diner and eat ourselves silly."

"Me, too?" George asked.

"Of course!" Frankie started laughing and pumped the ring over her head. "Let's hear it for salvation."

There was a hearty cheer from the group and even Alex cracked a smile.

In the end, her brother elected to stay behind, but Grand-Em was thrilled with the invitation. The five of them were just leaving the house when the phone started to ring. Frankie paused, hand on the back door.

"Let it go to voice mail," Nate said in her ear. "All the guests are accounted for. And we'll only be gone for an hour."

But she couldn't do it. After a decade of being tied to the phone, letting it go knowingly unanswered felt like child abandonment.

She was breathless from rushing to her desk as she picked up. She recognized the voice instantly and felt a sliver of dread.

"Nate," she called out. "It's for you. Spike."

Nate frowned and strode through the kitchen to the office."What's doing?" he said into the receiver.

"I've found the joint, man. It's perfect. In the theater district. We went there to eat just a couple of months ago. Tamale's."

Nate propped his hip against the desk. He knew the place. It was small, intimate. Kitchen was open to the dining area. Nice area of the city to be in. "Why are the owners selling?"

"Well, that's the thing. They're not sure they want to, but they're getting spanked. Tex-Mex is pa.s.se so they're not covering food and labor costs and their head chef quit two days ago when he got raided by someone else. The owners called me, wondering if I'd take over the stove. I went out for a drink with them last night, and man, they've got that b.l.o.o.d.y-eyeball exhaustion thing hanging around them like a funeral dirge. We got talking about their operation, and when I mentioned you and I were looking to buy, they were interested in getting together again. They seem desperate, so maybe they'll even hold paper for a while so we'll have a little more breathing room with the money. This is friggin' fantastic, man. Just what we've been looking for."

Nate frowned. "If they want to sell."

"That's where you come in, you Harvard-a.s.s educated, fancy talkin' SOB. They're right on the edge and you're just the man to shoulder-check them into the abyss. Or have you forgotten your hockey moves?" Spike chuckled, but then his voice got serious. "Man, this has got to be it. We've been trying so d.a.m.n hard and I'm tired of being on the sidelines. I have to get back to work, Walkman, I really do."

Nate could totally understand that. He'd been itchy as h.e.l.l before he'd taken over at White Caps.

"So when're you coming down?" Spike demanded.

Nate thought about White Caps' kitchen. There wasn't much he could do, and now that Frankie had the ring, he felt less like he'd be abandoning her at a terrible time.

"Give me two days."

"Good deal." There was a pause. "We're going to make this work, Walkman. And we're going to have a friggin' blast doing it."

Nate hung up. And felt curiously numb.

He should be more psyched. h.e.l.l, he should be panting to get into Lucille and head down to the city. What was his problem?

Maybe it was because there wasn't really a deal, only the possibility of a deal. Maybe he'd just gotten his hopes up too many times.

Frankie poked her head in the door. "Everything okay?"

Or maybe it was something else entirely.

Nate drank in the sight of her. The light from overhead fell onto the dark waves of her hair and brought the features of her face out into high relief. She was wearing a little white shirt and a pair of well-worn jeans and had red flip-flops on her feet.

"Nate?"

He rubbed the middle of his chest. "Yeah. It's all good."

But was it? He heard the enthusiasm in Spike's voice again as well as the man's desperation to get back to the job he loved. He and Spike had made a pact to find their fortune together. Spike was relying on him to keep up his side of the bargain.

Good G.o.d, Nate thought, wrenching a hand through his hair. Was he actually considering pulling out?

Panic swirled in his gut.

No. He wasn't.

He was a man of his word. And besides, being an owner was his dream, too. He wasn't doing it as a favor to Spike.

"Nate?" she whispered.

He forced a smile and pushed himself off the desk.

"Come on, let's go." He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her.

"He found something, didn't he."

Nate stared down into her eyes. "Yes, he did."

As everyone piled into the Honda and Frankie got behind the wheel, she was frustrated. d.a.m.n it, White Caps had just been saved and here she was, back in the doldrums. She needed to lighten up.But how could she? The idea that Nate was going to the city in forty-eight hours to look at a place to buy made the end of the summer so real.

When they got to the Silver Diner, everyone was talking at the same time, George and Nate about sports, Joy and Grand-Em about some gala that had been held in 1954. Frankie felt herself withdrawing, just pinning a smile on her face and watching them all as if they were on TV.

Throughout dinner, she kept looking at Nate and finding herself missing him. When the meal was over and they filed out of the restaurant, he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the maze of tables in the back room and then past the stools in the rail car. His touch was firm, warm. Tantalizing.

How was she going to say goodbye?

G.o.d, their end was coming so fast, so soon. Whether or not he bought the place Spike had called about or not, Labor Day was just a couple weeks away.

As if he sensed her thoughts, Nate ma.s.saged her shoulder. She covered his hand with hers, feeling the warmth of his skin. As they stepped out into the night air together, they let the others go ahead.

Frankie stopped walking and closed her eyes, trying to force the memory of the moment into her mind. The feel of his touch, the smell of him, the knowledge that they were going home and sharing the same bed tonight.

"I just want to hold on tight to this," she whispered.

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Me, too."

When they got home, Frankie checked on Alex before going to her room. He didn't stir as she opened the door and she looked at the sample packs of Percocet his doctors had given him. He hadn't been taking the pills, which was a relief because that Scotch bottle was now empty.

G.o.d, he looked haggard even as he slept.

Frankie shut off the light on the bureau.

"Do you love him?" Alex asked in the darkness.

She gasped. "I didn't know you were awake."

"You think I can sleep?"

"You drank enough."

Alex cursed softly. "Not nearly."

Frankie walked over to the bed and sat down carefully on the edge. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Stop asking me that, okay? It makes me feel like a cripple. Besides, what I want I can't have."

Frankie smiled sadly. She and Alex had always had quick tempers and she knew exactly how he was feeling right now. His skin was probably itching for her to leave him alone.

"Well, do you?" her brother demanded. "Love that guy?"

"I don't know." Actually, she did. But she couldn't say the words out loud.

"He's not bad, you know."

She laughed. "Now there's a ringing endors.e.m.e.nt."

"I like the way he takes care of you."

"Me, too." She took a deep breath. "But he's leaving soon. Going back to New York. He's want to open his own restaurant."

"You going with him?"

"G.o.d, no. Who would run this place?"

"Then he should stay here with you." Alex's voice was biting with disapproval.

"He has a right to follow his dream."

"He's a fool."

She glared into the dark. "How can you of all people say that? You left Saranac because what you wanted couldn't be found here. Why can't he do the same?"

"Because you're my sister."

"And I was your sister back when Mom and Dad died, too. That didn't stop you then, did it?" She slapped her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, Alex. I didn't mean-"

"It's okay. I deserved that. And more."

They were silent for a while. He shifted on the bed and grunted.

"I'm so d.a.m.n sorry about what happened," he said softly.

She put her hand on his arm. "But the Coast Guard said the accident wasn't your fault-"

"No, about you staying behind all those years ago and taking care of Joy and Grand-Em. I didn't give you a choice. I took off and left you to clean everything up and it wasn't fair. That's why I want Nate to stay. So someone can take care of you for a change."

Her breath caught.

"I want you to know something, Frankie. You did a great job raising Joy. Mom and Dad would have been so proud of you. Not surprised, just proud."

"Thank you," she whispered as she started to cry.

Alex cleared his throat as he moved his arm away from her touch. "Anyway."

She sniffled. "I'm so glad you said something. I-"

"You better go to your man, now. You should enjoy him while you have him," he said gruffly. "Although I still think he's a fool for leaving."

"Alex-"

"Go on. I'm tired."

She wiped her tears away and stood up. "Okay, I'm leaving."

As she shut the door, she thought that Alex was as Grand-Em had become. Every once in a while, you'd get a glimpse at what was inside.

But it never lasted long enough.

Late the following afternoon, Nate wiped plaster dust out of his eyes as he got off the stepladder and put down the crowbar. He'd finished removing the last of the water-damaged sections of Sheetrock from the rafters. With a clear path made, a fresh ceiling could be put up the minute those new pipes were installed."Excuse me, Chef?"

Nate turned around and looked at Henry. The boy was with his mother and dressed in real clothes, not the bathing suit and life jacket that had been his uniform of late.