I remember that after Ben Wade put the gun to my forehead and threatened me, I saw in his eyes a total lack of caring whether I lived or died. It wasn't as if he had a personal animosity for me; more a matter of the situation requiring his absolute control. Initially, he only saw me as a hostage, taken because in the moment at the bank, he was distracted that I knew his name. More than anything, I had been an anomaly, a disruption to his plans.

But he wasn't distracted as he stood there before me, gun aimed at me, threatening me. No. He was focused and mean. And I had been in mortal danger because he was fully capable of acting briskly and without remorse.

Six Hours Later

Stephen Maturin leans back and the penlight he withdraws in his wake creates a peculiar kind of tunnel vision for me. He pats my knee and says in his sedate voice that this is not anywhere near as bad as he feared when Uma had first called him.

"She tends to panic," I say, surprised to see my hands are now shaking as I bring the glass to my lips. "Something feels wrong ..."

"Shock, my dear. Let's get a warm blanket over your shoulders and a bit more of the whiskey down you. We've got these scrapes cleaned up. The bit of plaster is performing admirably for the cut on your arm. Thankfully, your pupils are reacting quite as they should. You will be ..."

"You sure about there being no concussion, Doc? With those bruises ..." Ralph is hovering. I am grateful he was there when I called, grateful he has stayed near.

"No concussion, I assure you. She should take to her bed a few days as a precaution; you know how delicate women can be when they have gone through any sort of upset."

"With all due respect, Doctor, I wouldn't call what I've gone through an 'upset.' I almost died."

"Of most importance, I would venture, is that you not only lived but you met Ben Wade. Now we know he has arrived."

"Dr. Maturin, I think you fail to see the more important facts."

We are in the sitting room of my apartment above the bookshop. Uma is brewing tea. It's one of those Brit things she does that comforts me just now. I already know from Ralph that they have all been out of their minds worrying about me. The police were there within an hour of the bank robbery to say I'd been kidnapped. Until the moment I called Ralph, frantic but free, they'd barely slept and had kept a vigil of sorts at the compound. I don't know if I realized until Ralph told me about how they'd all rallied around him and Uma that these people cared about me that much. It awed me.

Apparently, a whole group of them had tried to help - all the cops and the guys like Maximus, Terry and Jack Aubrey - they'd gathered at the restaurant, using their sources and influences to get information to track where I'd been taken. But no one had any leads on this group. And then John Nash had begun to put it together, courtesy of the files on similar bank robberies. Right away, of course, he'd been drawn to the one anomaly - that this was the first time a hostage had been taken. He began piecing it together but when he noticed the new DVD, it all fell into place. It was Nash who figured it out and made the others watch the DVD, called "3:10 To Yuma," that had arrived that morning unannounced. Until then, I'd been the only one to watch it.

And then once they found out who had kidnapped me, more of them had started descending on the bookstore, anxious because Ben Wade was not just among us - he'd brought his criminal ways along with him. What had we expected? That he'd be neutered upon arrival? We should have learned our lesson by then.

There was a quick consensus among those already there - Stephen, Terry, Dino, John Biebe, Maximus, Paul, Jeff, Cullen, Zack and Bud. And the consensus was that we could not call the police yet and report that I'd escaped.

Apparently while Stephen was patching me up, they were downstairs having a powwow over what I'd tell the cops once we did get in touch with them. And, Ralph reported when he came up to check on me, they were hammering out how they'd track down Wade, or lure him back this way again so he could hook up with the men who looked like him.

"Am I the only one who really gets that Ben Wade is a killer?" I am looking at Ralph, his hands in his pockets, standing just on the other side of the coffee table, staring at my shaking hands as I set the glass of whisky down. "Why in God's name would we want him to find us? We should be treating him like another Sid - like a more dangerous Sid, really."

"Ann, if you describe your kidnapper to the cops, or tell them his name, they're gonna be looking for a man who looks a lot like all your friends down there."

"Well, I am not going to do that but ..."

"Then what are you going to tell them?"

"I'll say they never took off their masks because they didn't want me to see their faces."

"How you gonna explain the bruises?"

"I'll say they dumped me out of the van and then took off. And any other injury can be explained from hiking out of the mountain."

Ralph and Stephen exchange a glance. I think they actually approve of this idea but more than anything, they are probably relieved that at least I am thinking.

"There's something else." Uma says this quietly as she enters bearing a tray of cups, saucers, a teapot, sugar bowl, cream pitcher. "He's going to go on robbing banks. Every single robbery is one more chance his face will be seen. That is the greater risk, is it not?"

Ralph sighs. "That ever happens, the cops'll arrest the first one of them that share his face they run across."

"Actually ..." I go to stand up but my legs are wobbly. Ralph takes two steps until he can put his arm out for me to lean on. "If they ever do, the ones working in law enforcement jobs are going to find themselves recognized by their fellow cops."

"Why don't you go rest? We'll take it from here."

"Nice try, Ralph. But you weren't the one who went through this. And I want them to really understand - we may be safer if he never finds this place. Maybe there's a Sid solution."

So he helps me downstairs. By the time I'm halfway down the stairs, I can hear them all in there so clearly. It feels comforting they are here. Like it or not, it's the Phoenix that's always drawn them into our circle of friends. With the bookstore part of the same compound, they drop in from time to time. But I cannot recall this ever being the place they have gathered in times when we must face a challenge. I know they are here out of concern for me.

But we are all at risk from Ben Wade. All of us. It's not such a simple matter as bringing him into the fold by waiting on him to show up at the Phoenix.

They go very quiet when I am there. I have seen my face in the mirror so I understand that my appearance is demonstrative proof of the threat Ben Wade represents. But seeing a measure of guilt in some of them tells me they want me to lie to the police. They have a story for me to tell, one that will send them off chasing anyone but someone who looks like them.

"He's one of us," Maximus says. He must have been the one chosen to convince me of this course of action. "We must find him. He needs our help if he is to live in this time."

"He doesn't want it," I say. "You weren't with him. You don't understand."

The idea Ben Wade would really hurt me had never once crossed my mind until the gun was in my face and he was telling me to choose, "belly or knees." All my haughty self-assurance this situation was easily dealt with evaporated.

My knees buckled. I sat down, heavily. The guy with the cuffs suddenly found it easy to attach one end to my wrist and the other to the chair's arm. And all the time he did that, Ben Wade stared at me, as if he was intent on seeing every secret to what had brought him to our time.

I bit my tongue to keep my lips from trembling. It was not totally successful. As soon as the guy finished cuffing me and backed away, I dropped my eyes from where they were locked on Ben Wade's. I wanted him to think I was going to meekly cooperate now.

A few seconds later, he walked off.

And I closed my eyes to regain my resolve to plan my escape, to find again the courage to act. I made a mental inventory of books I'd read that could give me tips on getting out of these cuffs. And how to survive in the wilderness of these mountains. I flashed on a survival manual Terry ordered once as a gag gift for Dino. "Surviving Any Situation For Dummies." I could picture a drawing about how to use common things like sunglasses or knives to prod open handcuffs.

My eyes opened. I smiled. Confidence flooded me. I could suddenly recall all sorts of helpful tips and tricks gleaned from years of reading books from how-to manuals to romance to adventure. Now, it would have been so simple if I had my purse. Inside, I would have been able to find useful things like my pen, flashlight and multi-purpose tool. Oh, and my cell was in there, too! Unfortunately, my purse was on the floor of the bank where I'd dropped it in the effort to hold on to the deposit bag. Bummer.

What did I have in my pockets? I did a mental inventory. And then I remembered I had my sunglasses in there. Ah. I could smell freedom!

But I was still underestimating Ben Wade. The moment he glanced over and caught me smiling, he must have known this was not something he could regard casually. They were all over by the van, smoking cigarettes and passing around a bottle of whiskey as they listened to static-infused chatter over a police scanner. And I was sitting on that porch scanning the nearby woods and visualizing my escape route. He read the change in my body language.

I bet it amused him to watch me get my hopes up. He probably even chuckled to himself at just how he'd take those hopes away from me.

My finger pauses on the DVD case. The nail polish is chipped. I wonder if that happened before or after he slapped me in the van.

If I broke the DVD inside this case, would he disappear from this time? Is there some way to control all of this?

Looking over my shoulder at the people gathered in my shop, I see they have assigned Arthur to draw up their lists of assigned duties. They have settled on a plan of action to find Ben Wade and bring him in from the cold. Paul and Kathy, along with a new waitress named Clarity, have returned from the Phoenix with beer and hard liquor. Skinner enters in their wake despite knowing I don't welcome his presence in the shop he's trying to steal from me. Ralph is opening a bottle of wine from our stash. Someone laughs.

Bud smoothes the DVD case from my hands.

"Wonder what he remembers about coming here." Bud says this softly, as if he's simply musing. But I have come to learn that there is nothing simple about Bud's questions.

"He said he knew he needed to keep walking."

"You asked him?"

"He offered that to me. Seemed to think I'd feel sorry for him."

"I remember wondering why my shoulder didn't hurt anymore." He puts a hand on my elbow and smiles softly at me when I look at him.

"I am sorry this happened to you, Bud. Does it still bother you to think of it?"

"Life, right? Never quite turns out like you think it will. What you do with what you're dealt - that's what makes your life matter. How I figure it, anyway."

"I so wish you guys wouldn't go inviting him into your lives."

"He's already a part of things. Now we control the impact he'll make."

Ben's hand touching me was so unexpected I would have jumped regardless of the situation. But considering I knew he'd likely kill me, I nearly pulled my arm out of its socket since it was firmly attached to the chair by the handcuff. I didn't like the way I'd gone from calm, determined to jittery fool. I hadn't seen him approach; I'd forgotten how fast he was in the film when he'd decided on a course of action.

"We're gonna go have a talk away from the boys. Isn't that what you suggested, honey?" Ben wasn't looking at me when he said this. He was looking at what he was doing: unlocking the cuff. His voice sounded different to me - calmer, smoother, a richer cadence. "Now, you just act like a lady and we'll get along much better."

I remember him turning and walking off. I looked toward his men. They were snickering and making vulgar gestures to imitate what they were expecting to happen to me wherever I was being taken.

To hell with them all. I'd walk to my doom with my head high. Ben Wade telling me to be a lady while he was planning to make a show of abasing me before killing me so they could escape without a witness? I decided I wouldn't give him the pleasure of cowering before him like he's used to people doing.

He waited for me just at the edge of the trees, where a clear path led into the cooler interior. The look on his face wasn't so much a sneer as a knowing appraisal of my approaching figure. As I got close enough to touch, his eyes drifted lazily, deliberately down, stopping for too long on both my breasts and my hips.

"Am I supposed to be intimidated, Wade?" My voice barely contained my contempt. "It's not working. You'll have to try harder."

"You want me harder? Did I hear that right, Miss ...?"

"Hilarious."

"After you, ma'am," he said, bowing as I passed him and headed in along the path.

I could hear him behind me, a few paces. I could feel his eyes on me - or rather, on my ass. Men do that, and women know it. They think we don't. It's why it's so easy to glance suddenly over your shoulder to catch them. They usually look guilty when you do. Not Wade. He grinned at me when I did.

By then, we were far enough along the curving path that I could no longer see around the shrubs and tree trunks to the haloed entrance. I stopped and waited on him to catch up. "What now?"

"Now? That's up to you, ma'am."

"Then I want to go."

"But we've only just met, ma'am. I'd surely like to spend just a bit more time getting acquainted. Bet you're used to having all the men and boys wanting to spend time with you."

"Oh, please. Can it, eh? Either let me go or tell me what you want. But if this is you thinking you're going to seduce me right before you kill me, well, it's not as if I'm buying the act, Wade."

"Who are you and how do you know my name?" He paused, for affect, so I'd see and appreciate the distinct change in his attitude toward me. He adjusted his shirt cuffs. Gave me the full wattage of his stern eyes and stiff carriage. "You lie to me, I'll know, trust me. Retribution will be swift and unpleasant. You tell the truth, I just may be sweet-talked into letting you survive."

"Look, say I tell you? You won't believe me. And I don't want to get hit again when it's not what you want to hear."

Even though my voice was cold, my words seemed to touch a part of him I wasn't expecting. He actually looked at me - not at my body parts, but at me. And he looked contrite. Like he now saw me as a person, not a faceless hostage. He stepped toward me; I flinched. He stretched his hand slowly toward my face; his thumb stroked over where he'd struck me in the van. And then his fingers skimmed down my neck to touch where he'd choked me.

"Don't know why I did this," he said, his voice soft, deep. Not quite a growl; more the gravelly stroke of an aural feather over the wounds he'd inflicted. "You bruise so easy, don't you?"

"Yes. But you hit so hard..." My voice was also soft, just above a hushed whisper. I felt overtaken, just that fast, by the devastating force of his presence I'd first felt in the bank. The shock of it was that I was unprepared to resist the undeniable intensity of his charisma. "You're strong; maybe you forgot. The way you grabbed me..."

"Bet you got bruises there, too." He let his hand drop, stepped in a bit closer. I didn't move back. I didn't even stop him when he raised my shirt to expose my side. His hand was warm when it caressed the tender places he'd created when he'd manhandled me out of the bank and into the van. "Your skin's so soft. Delicate. Man should treat a lady like you with more tenderness."

"Please don't..."

"Tell me your name."

"You told him your name was Emma Woodhouse?" Uma giggles as she sputters this out. It is a break in the tension.

I feel the smile on my face. It's almost embarrassing to be so amused at something so absurd. Especially with so many of the men looking at me like I have lost it. "Didn't figure him exactly for a Jane Austen fan. Just the first name that came to mind."

"Why not tell him your real name?" Jeff asks.

"Because I didn't trust him. I thought he'd kill me anyway. And I didn't want him to find y'all that easy. I just pictured him hunting you each down until he finally realized this wasn't a joke - or a lie. I thought I was buying you time."

There is an eerie silence.

It is broken by Paul. "He give you any clue where they're going now?"

"I didn't give him a chance."

"Too bad."

"I don't think y'all get it yet. This man is more a threat to us than Sid ever was. He will kill each of us without a pause - just in the hope he'll get answers he thinks we're going to give him to make sense of all that's happened to him. At least Sid was amused by the turn of events that brought him here. I'm glad I lied to him - I'm glad I didn't lead him right here."

They exchange more glances. Maximus clears his throat and we all look at him, as if he will part the waters and find the far shore we seek. "We must agree on a course of action. We give the police a suitable story to shift attention from Ann's involvement. Then we proceed on a course to track him. Once he's located, we send emissaries likely to negotiate. Failing negotiation, we take whatever steps are necessary to neutralize his threat until he is brought into our fold."

It sounds so logical. I don't think handling Ben Wade is possible. But I do know this: I trust Maximus. He has brought us through other dangers in the past with his combination of courage and cunning.

But then, something unexpected: Cort raps his hands on the table before hoisting himself from his seat. He looks around at us. "Once we find him, I'll talk to him. He'll listen to me. Won't like what I'll have to say, I expect, and I won't guarantee he'll fall in with us like we need, but at least he won't kill me until he hears me out."

"Why?" 

"There's something I haven't told anyone about Wade ... and me."

"What about what you said at the bank, Emma? About the train... Yuma?"

Lying about my name was easy. I'd thought it through as I'd sat on the porch, cuffed to the chair, planning how I'd escape. Once I'd seen that I'd only live if I got away, it seemed logical that if he interrogated me before I was able to escape, I'd not tell him the full truth about who I was or how I knew who he was. After all, I wouldn't want him to be able to track me down later. 

"You told me. Don't you remember?" I was playing a role. And the role I'd chosen was as a passing fancy he'd shared drinks with in a bar. If I played it just right, he'd think that's how I knew his name, that it'd slipped out in a moment of seductive flirtation.

He looked down at the path even as he moved toward me a bit more. I backed up again until I felt a tree trunk bounce into my shoulder.

"Sure, I remember now. How'd I forget a woman like you, Emma? Those green eyes ... got a weakness for any woman with green eyes."

"You were drunk."

His eyes swept up to me, an amused light playing there. A knowing smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "Even drunk, I'd never let a woman I set my sights on get away. And if I'd taken you to bed, Emma, I'd never forget you."

"We never made it that far. Too drunk, yes, you were. So I went to dance with someone else and ..."

"But you wanted me, didn't you? I can see it in your eyes. Maybe I should show you what you missed?" His hand gently squeezed my breast. "Make up for my bad behavior earlier today?"

If I didn't take control of this, he'd have all the proof he needed that I was lying. My voice had ice crystals in it. "I am not interested. I was simply..."

"C'mon... least you could do seeing I missed my chance at that bar up in Sand City. And I'd make those green eyes of yours turn every shade of the sea when you come with me inside you, Emma."

This was when I slapped him. I reared back and whopped him good across his cheek. He never flinched. "Ah, Emma. I woulda been disappointed if you'd hadn't done that."

 He didn't move away from me so I shoved him hard and then slipped around until I was back on the path and not standing pinned between a tree trunk and his chest. When he turned to face me, I knew he'd known all along we'd never met before the bank. He knew I'd been lying to him. I couldn't have run now for anything - I was too afraid to breathe, let alone move.

"What are you trying to keep me from finding out, Emma?" His voice was devoid of warmth, an octave just above death. "You don't wanna upset me again. I can be very good to you if you let me-but I can be very bad if you force me."

"You are not the first to come here. You will not be the last. And if you kill me...."

"You said you could help me. How?"

"Just by assuring you you're not crazy."

"No. I don't accept that. You said you were part of a group ... people who'd help me ... people who know me and what's happened to me. What else, Emma, what else can you do? Can you send me back? That's all I want and you know it."

"I was lying. I don't know why I said that."

He looked up into the canopy for long moments. His hands hung at his side. I felt bad for a flickering moment - and that was only because I'd feel sorry for even a mad dog who hadn't asked to turn rabid and mean. It was on the tip of my tongue to say to him that if he'd come with me, back to the Phoenix, there'd be men who could help him. But as soon as I formed the words, I pictured those men who had trusted us all this time with their secret. Wouldn't they thank me for dying to keep them safe from Ben Wade, who would kill them all if they didn't supply him with a way back that didn't exist?

Just then, one of his men called down the path. Some new information had come in over the scanner on road blocks going down. Cops were apparently sure the gang had left the area; their van had been reported filling up with gas somewhere on the mountain road to Tahoe. They could leave now, Ben and his men, because the cops were acting on a bad lead. The road blocks had been moved.

It was a mistake that would cost dearly.

Ben turned instantly, heading toward his men. Then he wheeled back my way. He looked at me for a long moment, his face expressionless, before pulling his gun from where it'd been tucked at his back, under his belt.

Even before he aimed the gun at me, I steeled myself. I had my pride - I would not meet death on my knees. I put my shoulders back, faced him full on, raised my chin, and stared into his eyes so he'd be left with that memory of his latest victim.

But a fraction of a moment later, he shifted its aim to my left. When he shot the gun, the bullet crashed through the tree he'd just pinned me against. And the echo of the shot's boom made me and every animal nearby jump.

"You want to live, you start running, Emma."

"You're letting me go?"

"Your only chance, honey. I don't give 'em out twice."

It didn't make sense to me he'd just let me go even though he had to know I was lying but I didn't need to hear it again. I turned and ran. I followed the path downhill, through trees and shrubs I grabbed for balance as I sped toward safety. Dusk was already setting in and light quickly dropped low enough I had to walk rather than run.

I listened for his footsteps behind me, for the sound of running water ahead of me, for the crash of four-legged predators in the brush.

It was water I found before anything found me. I knew it had to be the river or a stream that led to it. I followed the path that ran along its banks until I came to a campsite. Two women and a man were sitting around a small fire, drinking red wine, smoking weed, talking, laughing. I stumbled into their midst, begging for a cell phone.

A half hour later, I was waiting for Ralph to come get me at a gas station on the coast road.

Cort looks around the room. All eyes are on him. Most mouths are hanging open.

"Mate, don't you think that's something you shoulda mentioned before now?" Jeff asks the question we may all have been wanting to voice.

"No. Or I would have." Cort clips the words off. And he must have heard how harsh that was to the rest of us because he sits down, closes his eyes and sighs.

"It's not your fault he's here," Kathy says. "Surely, you'll have a better chance with him than the rest of us."

"I wouldn't count on that, honey, but I'm sure gonna try." Cort reaches for his drink, downing it in one long gulp.

"This doesn't change the essential plan," Dino says, pacing behind where Terry sits considering options no doubt. "All we gotta do now is have Annie call the..."

It is this moment in time that the door is opened with confidence and Ben Wade swaggers in, a smirk on his face, as if he knows exactly what we are doing and finds it endlessly amusing we ever thought we could control any situation where he was involved.

Based on how calmly he surveys the men before him, most who look close enough to be brothers, I know he had been observing us through the windows. Is it any shock that he cased the gathering and the setting long before deciding how he'd move into the shop to confront us? In my heart, I believe he is totally faking this reaction - I believe he was shocked beyond all reason when he first saw these men and wants nothing more than to plead for answers. But he won't show weakness even if he's been shaken to the core.

He pauses on Cort, giving him a slight nod. When his eyes light on me, he smiles warmly and gives me a courtly half-bow. "Good evening, Emma. How wonderful to see you again."

"You bastard," Ralph says, just as he launches himself across the table toward Ben Wade. Hands grab for Ralph before he's able to do more than grasp into Ben's shirt. They pull him off. And the whole time, Ben hasn't so much as blinked.

He smoothes down over the disturbance to his clothing. "Would you be so kind as to make the introductions, Emma?"

My hands are shaking again. I shove them behind my back. "You're not welcome here. Turn around and get out."

"If you hadn't wanted me to find you, honey, you wouldn't have made it so easy."

"I did no such thing."

"No? You made such a point of making sure I knew which deposit bag was yours, didn't you? We both know you wanted me to send my crew away from here and then track you down from the deposit slip with this address on it, Emma."

I open my mouth to respond but then I look over at Uma. I think we are sending mental messages to each other: he's here - now what?

Maximus rises from the table, puts his hands up, calming the sudden chatter in the room as people begin to react to Wade's unexpected appearance. "Ben Wade, you are welcomed to our circle of friends. However, you must agree to abide by certain rules. We are here to help but..."

"That's what she said. Just before she ran off on me. Not too helpful."

"You hurt her. Frightened her. What did you expect in return? Surely not her trust?"

"What rules?"

Maximus smiles slowly, that lethal sneer of his that other men have cowered before. Ben Wade simply raises an eyebrow in response. "In time, you will learn all. We ask only that you hear us out."

"Start talking."

But Maximus is not the sort of man forced to do another man's bidding that easily. His smile never leaves his face but he also says not a word in response to the rude way Wade's spoken to him. It hangs in the air around all of us - the force of just this initial battle of wills between these men. That's when it occurs to me, to maybe all of us: it's Maximus who will once again be needed to do his duty.

"There's really only one person Wade can't manipulate or compromise. That's you, Max. You should take charge of him now," I say.

Uma had to have been thinking the exact same thing. She pipes up instantly. They listen to her. She has that knack with these men. "If he stays on the loose, it's only a matter of time before he causes more trouble for all of you with law enforcement. But if you keep him with you until things die down here, Maximus, maybe by then you can, you know, break him in ..."

"... or break his hard head." Ralph is angry, defiant. I've somehow managed to keep the emotion out of my voice but my brother doesn't even so much as try.

There is general agreement with Uma's request. Maximus nods curtly. "Very well. I will take charge from here."

When Ben glances at me, amusement dances in his eyes and he cocks his head, as if to indicate this was what he was angling for all along. I turn on my heel and prance into my office. I want no more of this. I want them all out of my store. I want peace to return within these walls.

Inside my office, I stare at my desk, which is a shambles. I surmise that Ralph rifled through, looking for clues, anything that may tell him the police were wrong and that rather than being kidnapped, I'd taken off somewhere on my own. As I step closer, I notice my purse, open and emptied, with its contents in a small pile next to it.

How much time goes by with me pretending to be absorbed with putting order to the desk while I'm really listening to the others out there as they introduce themselves to Ben, order food from the Phoenix in a cautionary welcome celebration - I couldn't say.

As I hear people finally begin to leave, I flash back to the one memory of this escapade I cannot wipe away because of the shame I'd feel if any of the others knew what he'd said that had really humiliated and frightened me. It was Wade saying, "How real you want it? Belly or knees?"

Footsteps behind me break the reverie. Turning, I am not surprised he has the balls to waltz in here as if he'd ever be welcomed. I say nothing, just glare. It seems to amuse him. He waits me out, glancing around my office, finally picking up a green crystal wand on the table near the door.

"Put it down and get out. You're not welcome here."

He blinks at me, his face now contrite. "I only came in ... just wanted to apologize. It's Ann, right?"

"Okay, you've apologized, now leave."

"That's not very nice."

'You don't deserve nice."

He looks down at the floor. Shuffles his feet a few times. Finally shrugs his shoulders. Then, "The man you met, Ann, he's not who I really am. Been some tough days between coming here last month and meeting you today. Can't begin to make sense of any of it. Suppose I was taking it all out on the one person who showed me any measure of kindness since I got here."

Clearing his throat, he slowly looks up at me. He looks solemn. I purse my lips.

"I apologize for every single bad thing I did to you. Some day you'll see it's not my style to abuse a lady." And now he smiles at me, soft, bashful, embarrassed, hopeful. I frown in response. "Well, I can see I have my work cut out for me with you, Ann."

"The words are certainly poetic, Mr. Wade. You, however, will never win me over."

"And why is that, Ann?"

"Because I am too far ahead of you. I know exactly what you're up to."

Taking a few easy steps into the office, he considers this. His thumbs circle each other as he examines me; his smile becomes intimate, knowing. Seems he wants me to believe he's read into me, that I'm susceptible to his charms.

"And what am I up to?"

"You didn't let me go to be nice. You let me go because you knew how to find me. You knew I'd lead you right to this group."

"I could have tortured that information from you."

"No, you couldn't have."

"No, I couldn't have."

"You think you'll charm us all. That we've got secrets you want - how to get back to your time, for one. And heaven knows, you probably will charm a lot of them. But there's two of us you'll never charm. Because we know the real you."

"Two of you?"

"Yes. Me ... and your cousin Cort."

"Ah. Cort." He sighs. He steps much closer to me, almost as if it's entirely casual. It allows him to lower his voice to a soft purr. "I sure do remember my cousin the killer. Interesting. This ruthless man is part of your group but you object to me coming in? What makes him so special?"

"He's a good man. He's not the man you knew, apparently."

"You mean you've bought his 'I've been saved by Lord' bit? Cort the preacher? Don't be fooled by a conversion based on nothing more than finding a hiding place when he got scared of Herod. Far too convenient. A man doesn't change that easy, Ann."

"Nothing you ever say about him will alter the way I feel about him."

"You sweet on him, ma'am? That it? Cort's your man?"

"Honestly, you think I'm going to play this game with you, Wade? I told you - I got your number. Your tricks won't work on me."

Again, he looks off as if considering my words, as if weighing his next move. He begins slowly wandering in a circular path around the office, forcing me to turn to track his progress. He glances at me over his shoulder as he strokes the fabric of the wall hanging next to my desk. He then picks up the silk scarf I dropped over the desk chair a few days ago.

I move toward him before I can stop myself, wanting to snatch the scarf from him just as he lifts it to his nose. He inhales slowly, his eyes on mine. He has caught my scent on the scarf. He knows it's mine and very deliberately, he strokes it against the roughness of his beard.

"Did you feel it like I did?" he asks me, now closing the distance between us, his free hand reaching out for my elbow to keep me from backing away. 

"I felt nothing except contempt for you and how brutish you are."

"Liar," he whispers in a voice as silky as my scarf. "Which of those men in there is yours? It's Cort, isn't it? You putting on a show for him - acting like I didn't get to you already?"

"You will never get to me. I don't need a man - not for protection from you, not for anything."

 "I'm here now. Part of this group, aren't I, just by virtue of what I look like? I'm here and you like it." He chuckles at my indignant jaw tightening before pulling my hands up, then loosely wrapping my scarf around my wrists. His voice drops into a rough place. "Try and run away from me now, darlin'. Gave me a real hard on when you acted all tough."

I shake the scarf off and rear back, my right hand in a tight fist, and punch him on the jaw so hard it knocks him a half step away from me.

"That hard enough for you?" I grate out, ignoring the searing pain across my knuckles.

Wade puts his hand over his jaw where I struck him. Already, there is a knowing glint in his eyes. Before he can do what I read as his instinctual response to my resistance, we are interrupted.

"Problem here?" Cort's voice, coming from just inside the doorway, snaps across the space between Wade and me. "Maybe you need to practice up on your apologizing skills, 'Cuz.' Doesn't seem the lady was too impressed."

Ben Wade never takes his eyes off mine. "Day I need lessons in handling a woman, Cuz, it won't be you I'm coming to, will it?"

"It's not me she punched. Maybe I could be more use to you than you realize."

What Wade does then catches me totally off guard. His smile turns sad as he reaches out with his thumb to skim over the bruise on my cheekbone. "I'm not really the man who did that to you."

I stand frozen in place as he turns and strides out of my office. Only when I hear the sounds of him and Maximus leaving the shop do I turn to Cort.

"He makes me remember parts of my old self I hate facing. I should have warned you all ..."

"Cort, you are not responsible for him."

"Can I give you some advice, Ann?" When I say nothing, he nods. "Yeah. I know. Too little, too late - but here goes, anyway. Don't ever forget what he is. He's testing each of us for any weaknesses. He's also testing the group. If there's any way he can manipulate any of us, can compromise any of us, he will use every leverage."

"You think he wants to take over."

"Or destroy, if he cannot."

"I told him that he may be able to charm the others, but that you and I will always know what he is."

"Maybe we two also have to remember - once he realizes he cannot go back to his time, it may shake him. There should always be forgiveness if a man asks for it."

For the first time since I called the caterer that morning, I feel genuine mirth flood through me. I laugh. He chuckles, blushing attractively. "Oh, Cort. You kill me. But I would remind you, smart ass, that you are misquoting the Bible. The forgiveness of which you speak will come from God, not mere mortals like us."

"True. But mere mortals should always strive to emulate the Lord."

"Turn the other cheek, Preacher?"

"No, my child. Let's see what Maximus makes of him first. We can be guided by that on whether or not to give him another chance."

"Yes, well, my chosen course of action is to keep Wade at a safe distance. One close encounter was one too many."

Cort's smile slides away. "You misunderstand me. I am willing to help my cousin but I am not easily fooled by anything he does that may seem too easy, too simple. My guard will always be up. I suggest yours should be as well. He isn't fooled by you, Ann."

"He doesn't know me."

"He knows more about you than you want him to."

"There's nothing to know. And he's out of our hair now."

"For now."

That night, I stay in my office until it is clean and fresh. Then I purify the air and the aura of the entire shop. Daylight is already streaming in toward the compound from over the mountains by the time I climb the stairs to my apartment. Standing at my back window, I watch as the sun glitters on the far ripples of the ocean heading toward the shore below our promontory.

All the things that have been happening over the last month now seem interrelated, as if our world had shifted and jostled itself to make room for Ben Wade when he arrived. He'd been here this whole time only we'd not known it. But the world around us had known. The elements had tried to get our attention, to prepare us, warn us.

He hadn't been at all what I'd expected. Was he telling me the truth that I hadn't met the real him? Would anyone know; does he even know?

I glance at the book I'm holding. It was in my car, right where I'd put it when I'd packed it for the return trip from San Francisco about 24 hours earlier. Ralph had retrieved my car for me from where I'd left it in Carmel, outside the bank. I knew he would. It's why I went out into the lot before heading up here. If anyone had been watching, they would have thought I was just grabbing my suitcase to bring upstairs. But it was really the book.

The book is safe.

It's my own personal proof that the elements were warning me a seminal shift in our world had been wrought a month ago when Ben Wade crossed over to us.

I will not open its pages here. I will only do that in a place like San Francisco; never here where others could find out. But I wish I could dive inside its covers right now - not to find answers but to find the escape it has become for me.