Though they didn't forget for long when the car jarred on its track.

Julia's eyes went wider and she set the video camera on the wooden bench top that served as both a place to sit and a top for a storage area. Ben swore.

"Good news is that I got what I came for," she stated, though her voice shook when the tram jarred

again.

She grabbed the sides of the car where the Plexiglas windows met the sheet metal walls. "I guess this would be the perfect opportunity to say, Fasten your seat belts, it's going to be a bumpy ride."

Her sassy voice trembled, and he cocked his head, still trying to assimilate the foreign thought of Julia Boudreaux being afraid of anything. But she was. When the tram jarred again, she gasped, her knuckles going white from holding on so tightly.

"Hey," he said softly, "it's rickety, and it breaks down, but that's it. Even if it does break down, it's just a matter of fixing it and getting the occupants out of the car. You're going to be fine."

It didn't look like she believed him.

He reached out to touch her.

"Don't," she said tightly.

Her tone raked through him because it wasn't about fear-not entirely. She was angry at him. But he knew he deserved her anger. First, he had acted badly when she told him what Todd said. Then he had acted like a jealous ass over the flowers.

"I'm sorry," he said, meaning it. "I've been acting like a jerk."

She stared out into the distance. "True."

He grimaced. "I'm getting to the bottom of what was going on with Henry."

"Glad to hear it."

"But first I had to find you to apologize."

"Fine. Now you can check that off your list."

"Julia-" But he didn't get any farther before the tram jarred again, the cables screeching to a halt.

Her pale skin blanched white.

"Damn," he muttered. "Julia, look at me."

Finally, she dragged her gaze to meet his. He saw the terror, and he knew in that second that Julia was scared at a bone-deep level.

"You're afraid of heights." He said the words with the surprise he felt.

She closed her eyes tightly.

"Then why did you get on this blasted thing in the first place?"

She still couldn't talk.

"I know," he said quietly. "Because you never allow yourself to be afraid of anything." He sighed.

"Oh, Julia. You don't have to be strong every second."

With her hands still holding the edges, she sank down to the floor, her arms spread like an eagle's wings

until her butt hit the bottom. Then she let go, her palms sliding down the sides. She wrapped her arms around her knees and she buried her head.

It was painful to watch, this strong woman trying to hold on but failing.

He wanted to comfort her. But first he had to make a call.

"Dispatch, this is Ben Prescott." He gave his badge number, then explained the situation.

A few instructions were exchanged, then he beeped off and crouched down in front of Julia. He touched

her chin and lifted it until she had to look at him. But her eyes were closed.

"Sweetheart, look at me."

Reluctantly, she did.

"You're okay."

"Am I?" she asked.

The question was so simple, but he realized that it wasn't simple at all.

"Sure you are."

She turned her face away. "My father had no patience with fear."

"What?"

She closed her eyes again. "Philippe Boudreaux wasn't afraid of anything."

He remembered learning that her father had died while mountain climbing, about the stories of his love

of adventure.

"And he expected his only child to be the same way." She looked back at him. "This is unacceptable."

"Being afraid of heights is unacceptable?" he asked incredulously.

"Being weak is unacceptable," she clarified.

"Hell, Julia. You aren't weak."

"Then why am I crouched on the floor?"

"I know big, burly cops who would walk in front of a crazed gunman without blinking an eye but who

get light-headed at the mere mention of heights."

She snorted. "Thank God they didn't have to spend time around my father."

"What's this really about?" he asked gently.

She didn't answer at first, just stared at the marked and scarred tram walls without really seeing.

"I'm making a mess of everything," she whispered.

"No-"

"I am. I've been tumbling out of control ever since my daddy died. I've tried to pretend everything was

okay. That I was just as strong as he always expected me to be. But the tighter I hold on, the more I try to be a better person, the worse everything gets. I don't even know who I am anymore. I feel lost."

"You're not lost, Julia. You're just finding your way in a world that changed when your dad died."

"But that's the thing. I don't feel like I'm finding my way. I feel like I'm in a holding pattern, being given a reprieve. But come this spring I have to sell my house, and by then I better have a new life-one that works."

"Hell, I'm impressed with how well you're doing since he left you in such a bad financial place. And once

you sell, won't you have money to tide you over?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "Daddy mortgaged the house to the hilt to keep up appearances. I'll be lucky to walk away breaking even."

"Hell."

"I don't care about the money. I just need to know that I can succeed at something! The old me wasn't working. But the new one isn't working, either."

She inhaled sharply, her eyes boring into him.

"Something's working. You still have admirers sending you flowers. They clearly know who you are.

And still want you."

The words brought the burn of tears back into her eyes. But he could see how she fought them. She wasn't about to let herself cry.

"It's my birthday," she said, her voice choked.

His brow furrowed. "Hell, I wish I had known. Happy birthday. And I was an ass for saying anything about your admirers. Of course you have plenty. And I'm glad some guy sent you flowers."

"They were from my father."

Just that, and his thoughts collided. "What the hell? Your dad is gone-" He cut himself off.

"He is," she said quietly. "For as long as I can remember, he always sent me roses for my birthday. No

matter where he was, no matter what he was doing, red roses arrived. I don't even like red roses, but somehow that made it okay that he wasn't there because at least I knew he was thinking about me."

"That's great."