Faith laughed when Baxter pulled her into a closet on the second floor landing, closed the door, and said in her ear, "Just one kiss, lovely lady, and I promise to leave you alone for at least an hour."
She turned her face into his neck and mumbled, "And if I refuse?"
He said low, "Are you going to refuse?"
"No."
"Then I have my answer, fair maiden."
Before she could respond with her own quip, he was kissing her with such passion that she forgot what she was about to say. And the fact that one kiss turned into many, didn't bother her in the least. When he broke away and leaned his head against hers, his breathing was rapid. "I'm crazy about you, Faith."
She nuzzled against his chest. "Bax, you make me feel alive again."
He chuckled and moved his hands from her back to encircle her waist. "You do know, don't you, that you're the only one allowed to call me Bax."
"Would you rather I didn't?"
"Hell, no." And with those words he started kissing her again.
There was a rap on the door. "Baxter, I need your help in the garden. And Faith, I just placed a basket of fresh bread on the table."
Baxter mumbled a curse and Faith giggled. "I swear your mother is psychic. Either that or she has hidden cameras in every room."
Baxter gave her a quick kiss. "As soon as I help my mother and answer my emails, I'll meet you on the beach, probably between three and three-thirty."
Faith arrived at the B & B's private beach at two-thirty, but walked along the shore until she reached the public beach. She and Baxter had decided to keep their relationship private to avoid questions from guests. She set her umbrella up and then spread her towel on the sand. For two weeks she and Baxter had been flirting and kissing, but most of all talking. He had confided in her about his marriage and divorce and she had opened up about her husband and child. At times, their confidences were emotional and difficult, but throughout it all, they realized they were healing and coming to a place where they could go on with their lives.
Faith sat on her towel, gazed at lapping waves, and smiled. Baxter was a wonderful man and she was falling for him, but where that would lead, she didn't know. For now, however, her ability to move beyond her sorrow was enough.
After a time, the warmth of the sun and the backdrop hum of waves and laughter caused her to drift into the realm between awareness and sleep. She felt languid and happy.
"Rex!"
At first, recognition of the name played tag with her semiconscious mind, but when she heard it again, she jerked upright.
She heard it a third time. "Rex!"
Scanning the beach to the south she squinted into the haze and then moved her gaze past a man and woman walking hand-in-hand beside the water's edge. Beyond them a game of volleyball was being played by several teenagers. Then she saw a boy in the distance. He was wearing a blue ball cap and tossing a Frisbee for a big, red dog.
Faith jumped to her feet and started running toward them. She passed the couple who had turned around and were now walking toward her. They smiled, but she didn't acknowledge them. Then she weaved around the volleyball game. A few more tourists remained between her and the boy, but finally she was close enough to realize it was the child from her first encounter. She called, "Owen!"
He turned at the sound of his name and smiled. Then he tossed the Frisbee for Rex farther down the beach. The dog barked happily and ran after it. Owen ran after his dog.
She called again, "Wait for me!"
The boy looked back and shouted, "Tell Vee it wasn't her fault!" He started running after the dog.
Heedless of her surroundings, Faith chased them, but suddenly found herself toppled to the ground when her feet got tangled up in someone's towel. She heard a man say, "Lady, are you okay?" She ignored the question. She had to reach Owen. She pushed upward and searched for the boy. There was no boy and no dog. She jerked her head in every direction, but only saw tourists. The man repeated, "Are you okay? You seem disoriented."
She glanced up at a short, middle-aged guy with a large girth. "Did you just see a boy in a blue ball cap tossing a Frisbee for a large red dog?" She pointed. "Over there."
"Ah, no. But then I wasn't paying attention to anyone over there."
She jumped to her feet and ran in the direction she had indicated. When she reached the location where Owen and Rex had been, she searched for footprints, even as waves lapped the sand. She thought she saw a paw print and rushed toward it. A wave covered it, and when it receded, the print was gone.
Tears stung Faith's eyes. Was she losing her mind?
By the time she returned to her umbrella and towel, Baxter was striding toward her wearing his bathing trunks and carrying a large picnic basket. She considered telling him about what had just happened, but immediately discarded that notion. He would either think she was crazy or trying to trick him into something. When he reached her, he asked, "What's wrong?"
"I-I'm not feeling well. I think I should return to my room and rest."
"Do you need to see a doctor?"
"No. It's nothing as severe as that. I'm just feeling a little queasy."
Hastily, Baxter closed Faith's umbrella and tossed her towel on top of the picnic basket. Holding her elbow, he walked her back to the B & B, and when they entered the house he discarded the items he was carrying and placed his arm around her. "I'll help you to your room, honey."
His endearment and kindness touched Faith's heart and she wanted to turn into his arms and cry. Instead, she merely mumbled her assent and allowed him to guide her upstairs. In her room, she lay across her bed and covered her eyes with her forearm.
Baxter sounded worried when he said, "Maybe we should call the doctor just in case."
"No, please just give me an hour and then see how I feel."
He hesitated but finally agreed. "Okay. One hour. Would you like my mother to help you change out of your bathing suit?"
"No. I can do it."
Again Baxter hesitated. "Can I bring you some tea?"
"No. I just want to rest." She felt the gentle brush of his lips on the top of her head.
"Okay, but I'll be back periodically to check on you."
"Thank you, Baxter."
It wasn't long after Baxter left that there was a soft knock on her door and it opened before she could respond. Gabby stuck her head around the corner. "Baxter said you're ill. Can I come in?"
Faith stifled a sob. "Yes. I really need to talk to you." Gabby frowned as she entered the room and hurried to the bedside. Gently sitting on the edge of it, she said, "Hon, this is more than illness. What happened?"
This time Faith couldn't hold back a sob. "I talked to Owen again!"
Back in her suite, Gabby splashed water on her face and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The tale Faith had just shared still made the hair on her arms stand up. Had she really spoken to a boy who had been dead for over twenty years? Or was she so engulfed in her own sorrow that somehow conjuring up this child helped her? If not for the psychic's words from three years earlier and the story about Mr. Lucky, she'd tend to go with the latter explanation, but now she was starting to believe in ghosts. She picked up a brush and began combing her long locks.
Faith had begged her not to say anything to Baxter and she could understand why. Her son would surely think he was being played for a fool and break off their budding romance. And that was the last thing Gabby wanted. Her boy was finally becoming human again and not the automaton he'd turned into.
So what should Faith do with the message from Owen? And what should she, herself, do about the message from the psychic? Both of them were faced with a dilemma.