Laurelin ran frantically up the gravel path, trying not to panic. She had her jacket pulled up over her head to defend herself from the water. She had had that feeling all day, and now she was afraid of another attack. Why hadn’t she worn pants? It hadn’t been that hot, and of course she couldn’t wear her necklace while working. So now she had nothing to concentrate on, and every stray sprinkle of water threatened to immobilize her.

On the porch now, she threw her jacket off, tossing it as far away from her as possible while being as careful as she could to keep dry. She yanked the door open and ran inside, forgetting to pull it closed behind her. Concentrate on now, she kept telling herself, walk into the bedroom, did I leave it on the nightstand? No, okay one step at a time, watch the floor. Bathroom! Yes, that’s where it is, on the counter.

Her amulet was a small plastic flower necklace on a cheap metal chain. Laurelin grasped it in both hands and let go of now.

Mom sits on the bed. She’s wearing that red dress Dad likes so much. They’re going out. The little girl’s ten. She’s mad at them because they’re leaving her with a baby sitter, and she’s too old for one. Mom smiles. Now she’s mad at her because Mom never understands. Mom’s always happy. How come she’s the one that’s always happy? Mom pulls the girl closer. “Laurel,” she says, “I love you.” She hugs Laurel. Laurel stiffens, trying to make herself stay mad. But soon she forgets why she was mad to begin with and hugs Mom back. Tears from in her eyes, but she doesn’t cry. Mom has a present for her. “I know you hate it when we leave you alone. Here, I saw this in town today and I thought of you. Now when we have to go out, you can wear this and think about us, and know we’re thinking about you.” Mom shows the girl a pink daisy pendant on a chain. The girl hugs Mom again. Mom puts the necklace around Laurel’s neck. Laurel looks at it. “Thank you, Mommy,” she says. Mom hugs her again. “Goodnight, Laurie. I’ll see you in the morning. Go to sleep, okay? Don’t harass the babysitter.” Laurel smiles. “I won’t, Mommy.” Mom smiles. She kisses the girl on the forehead and walks out, turning the light off as she leaves. Laurel pulls the covers back over her, but she doesn’t go to sleep yet. She looks at the pink daisy with its yellow center. She thinks about her Mom as she drifts off to sleep. She knows she won’t have another attack that night.

Laurel stands in the bathroom clutching her necklace. Bits of mud drip off her paddock boots, she’s breathing evenly and deep now. But her mind doesn’t return to the bathroom and the weather until the morning. She just stands there, lost in the past, dreaming like she dreamed that night with her mom’s new gift.

Andy knocks on Miss Forester’s doorframe. The front door’s open, and Miss Forester has not shown up at the barn yet this morning. It’s possible she had another attack, in which case Andy is afraid to go in. Who knew what nonsense she would be babbling about? Andy used to believe she was possessed by the devil when she spoke in tongues, but he knows better now. But still, if she is in one of those trances, it’s anybody’s guess as to how long it’ll take her to come out of it. Maybe the professor sent her another package.

“Miss Forester?” he calls out. He waits a minute before cautiously stepping inside.

The kitchen table is empty, so it isn’t likely she had gotten anything in the mail. It rained last night after feeding time, maybe that did it? Crystal had said she had said she was in one of those moods. That usually meant she was feeling an attack coming on.

“Miss Forester?” Andy calls again. It is an hour past dawn and the sun is lighting the house properly. None of the house lights are on.

Andy wanders through the kitchen to the living room. Still no sign of her. He goes back through the kitchen to the everything room. Bits, bridles, stirrup leathers, an old saddle, tack boxes, stacks of blankets, polo wraps, bottles, paint cans, saddle trees, and hundreds of brushes make navigating difficult. Andy looks behind the stack of empty and broken tack boxes. No Miss Forester. One last place to look then.

Andy hovers outside the bedroom door, which is ajar. “Miss Forester?” he calls one last time. He listens carefully, hoping to hear the bath running or footsteps to tell him she is up and about. Nothing. He steps closer, reaches his hand out to touch the door.

Just as his hand touches the doorknob, the door is jerked back. Andy jumps and gives out a sharp yell of surprise. Miss Forester jumps a mile, too. She looks exhausted, but her mind is definitely in the present.

“Jesus, Andy, you scared the living daylights out of me! Is everything okay?” Miss Forester asks.

Andy looks embarrassed. “We fed the horses and you still hadn’t shown up, we were worried you’d...”

“Had another episode?” Miss Forester smiles.

Andy blushes. “Yeah, that’s about right. Crystal said you weren’t feelin’ yourself yesterday, so I’s worried...”

“Well, I just about did have another episode. But all’s well except I’m dead tired this morning.”

“At least that means you won’t be havin’ another ‘un for a while yet,” Andy suggests hopefully.

Miss Forester smiles. “Yeah, I sure hope so. Anyway, let’s get down there and clean some stalls.”

“Oh, no there’s a right joyful prospect,” Andy smiles.

“Let me just change into some pants, I’m sick to death of the flies!”

Andy turns and walks out. He heads down the hill along the gravel path to the forty-horse barn he helps manage. Crystal and Beth have started on the stalls already, Juan is trying to get the tractor to start. Maria is probably battling with mice in the feed room. Blaze is god knows where. Andy starts down the wide cement aisle between the stalls. He can hear Crystal complaining about shavings and Beth mocking her. As he comes near the far end of the barn he can see Crystal’s in Mord’s stall and Beth is across the aisle in Sandman’s. He picks up a pitchfork and pushes the nearest wheelbarrow to Pico’s stall.

“She alive, Andy?” Crystal asks when she notices him.

“Yeah, she’s fine. She had a rough night, though. You think you can take any of her lessons today?”

“Sure, but only some of the early ones. I gotta be in town after lunch, Chuck needs me to work the till this afternoon.” Crystal says.

“I can take the afternoon ones,” Beth offers. “I can work Jess and teach too, I was planning a light day for her, anyway.”

“How’s Jess doing with side reigns?” Crystal asks.

“Not bad, but I’ve been lunging her too much. We need to work on leg aids. I’m just afraid Mrs. Jamison is going to want to take her on another hunt before the season ends. That always undoes all the work we’ve done for a month!”

“Yeah, and then she complains how you’re not making enough progress and how you must not be doing anything right if Jess is such a basket case in the field!” Crystal says. Crystal’s brown eyes flash in anger and mirth.

Crystal is about to launch into another horse-owners-are-so-stupid speech when Miss Forester arrives. She still looks tired, but she smiles listening to Crystal.

“Now Crys, my dear, I sure hope you’re not about to criticize our customers,” she says.

“Oh, of course not, Laurelin! I would never even dream of it! I mean, they’re doing us quite the favor by paying us for our services, who are we to complain if they want to tell us how to do our jobs?” Crystal never was good at understanding people, especially not rich people.

Andy and Miss Forester laugh. Beth smiles but clearly isn’t amused. Miss Forester goes back down the aisle a ways to get another wheelbarrow and pitchfork.

“How was your night, Miss Forester?” Beth asks.

Miss Forester takes a breath and is about to launch into another round of don’t call me miss forester, but sighs instead. “Not bad. It could have been a lot worse. How was your date with the doctor?”

Now it’s Beth’s turn to sigh. “He spent half the evening telling me how dangerous horseback riding is for your back and spine. And I was uncomfortable to begin with. Can you imagine me an a cocktail dress?”

Crystal laughs but Miss Forester speaks first. “Just don’t set me up with him, okay?”

Even Andy laughs at that.

“Crys, you have no idea how lucky you are to be out of the dating scene,” Beth says.

“Hell, girl! You live with Chuck for a week and tell me if you think I’m lucky!” Crystal lays her accent on thick and does her best Chuck impersonation. “’Git me a beer, Crys,’ ‘Where’s mah good shirt, Crys?’ ‘Why you aint done the laundry yet, Crys?’ ‘You gotta work at the store this week, Crys’ ‘Don’t go givin’ me none of your lip, Crys, I’m the man ah this house!’ I always gotta remind him where our money comes from. Hell, I know this job don’t pay that much, but it’s more’n he makes managing a Texaco.”

Andy laughs hard at that. He knows Chuck and Crystal fight a lot, but he knows them both very well and has for a very long time. They’re both stubborn as mules but they’re good people. Andy, Crys, and Chuck all went to high school together, but Andy was friends with Chuck but not really Crys. Crys was a tomboy and gave most of their female classmates hell for wearing skirts and makeup. Crys played baseball with the boys after school but never wanted to be on the softball team. Luckily she didn’t want to be on the baseball team either, as the coach was scared to death of her. For a while she had a lot of the boys scared after she beat up the school bully, who was also the football quarterback. But she didn’t get in fights that often, mostly she hung out with the guys. She lived near Miss Forester’s place then, and was always hanging around the place. Ash Forester never liked her being there, and chased her off the property with a shotgun once when she told him off, but after he left Miss Forester gave her a job and taught her to ride. Chuck dated in high school, but when he started working in a gas station and all the girls he had known went off to college, he started looking to settle down. At that time he hung out with Andy a lot, and was often at Miss Forester’s with him. Crys and he got on each other’s nerves, especially because he complained about wanting a girlfriend so much. But fate had taken its course, and now they were married. Chuck is assistant manager at his Texaco, and Crys teaches children riding lessons. They fight constantly, although their only real disagreement is whether or not to have children.

“You’re awfully quiet, Andy,” Miss Forester says, interrupting Crys’ Chuck-bashing session.

“Just thinkin’, Miss Forester,” he says with a knowing smile.

“Andy,” she says, sounding a bit exasperated, “how many times do I have to ask yall to call me Laurelin! Or Laurel, or Laurie. Am I really that old?”

Crys and Beth laugh. They always go through the same song and dance; both the girls are in their late twenties, as is Andy, and Miss Forester is a good ten years their senior. They knew her when they were in their teens and they all think of her as more adult then them. Mr. Forester had always demanded respect, and the habit had stuck. Crys alternated between first and last names with her, mainly because she had always hated Mr. Forester’s attitude and it bugged him when she called him Ash. Once he had yelled at her “My name is ‘Ashton’!”, after which whenever he told her to call him Mr. Forester she had responded, “but you’re name’s Ashton!” Crys takes great pleasure in trying to credit herself with his leaving.

“Old habits die hard, Miss Forester,” Andy said with a smile. Not that Miss Forester looks that much older. She’s trim and fit, her hair is still dishwater blonde, she is a bit more lined then they are but all of them are sunburnt and a tad weathered. She’s beautiful, in her way.

Maria comes in cursing in Spanish, fiddling with a mousetrap.

“Miss Forest, when we get cat? Mouse still get into grain!”

“The barn cat ran away again? How long has it been gone?”

“Two days. Grain in metal trashcans still good, but three bags they got.”

Miss Forester groans. “I’ll see if Buddy still has some kittens left in that litter. Were the dogs chasing it, Maria?”

“No,” Maria says as she goes looking for a pitchfork. “Dogs fine, Pada run off at night.”

Beth and Crys move on to different stalls. Maria is about to give up on finding a pitchfork, but Miss Forester tells her to forget it.

“Just bring Kaptain and Poster in. I need to get his workout in before my first lesson.”

“Well,” Crys interrupts, “I have to go work at the store for Chuck this afternoon, so how’s about I take some of your early classes? Kaptain is scheduled for an easy day anyway, and I know you’ve been looking to get a real serious session in with Poster.”

Miss Forester looks suspiciously between Andy, Crystal, and Beth. Andy keeps his eyes carefully on the shavings, knowing he’s been caught. “Andy,” she says slowly, “this reeks of a conspiracy.”

Andy blushes slightly but doesn’t look up. Crys tries to rescue him. “What’dya mean? You look tired, Forester, it don’t take Andy’s wrangling for me to notice that. Besides, you looked downright haunted yesterday, think I forgot that?”

“Crystal,” Andy says, “you don’t have to defend me. I should admit when I’ve been caught. But Crys is right, Miss Forester, you need a light day. Let Crys and Beth handle some of your lessons. It’s not like we’re asking you to take the day off, although quite frankly I think that’s what you should do.”

Miss Forester smiles sadly. “I know, Andy, but I hate doing that. It’s like admitting that this... this thing has control over me, and I hate that.” The seriousness fades from her face then, “Besides, I like riding more than teaching anyway. I surrender!”

Andy smiles, Crys and Beth laugh. But Andy worries she is loosing some control. Whenever she fights so hard against her gift, it comes on unbidden and she has episodes. He thinks she was better off when she worked for the professor more often, at least then she was admitting her gift wasn’t a bad thing. But recently she only wants a normal life, and it’s like when she was young. Ever since the ring...

Crys says good and then proceeds on a rant about some of her students, which sends her on a tangent about pickup trucks. Beth and Miss Forester nod and interject occasionally, but Andy has trouble paying attention. Something needs to be done for Miss Forester. He wonders if he should talk to the professor, but the professor is usually too far gone inside his own world that he has difficulty paying attention to others, especially if they don’t concern his work. But it’s worth a phone call, or maybe even a university visit. Andy wonders what he could say, though. Miss Forester has always had her episodes, and the professor knows that. What can the professor do, even if he listens to and agrees with Andy? He’s not exactly a psychologist; in fact he’s a rather maladroit person. How he even met and married his wife is beyond Andy. But it’s a start.

Laurelin rode Poster down the bank to the creek path. She knew she should be giving Poster a real lesson, but she felt she needed the trails today. She never got tired of the countryside around here, but it was spring and at its most beautiful. Some of the trees were still in bloom, but mostly they all had their new, soft, green little leaves out, except of course for the evergreens with their glossy pine needles. Poster danced around excitedly, sniffing the air and craning his head around to listen to every little sound and movement. But he was calm enough she could ride on autopilot and enjoy the day.

Poster’s rocking walk felt glorious and helped loosen her lower back, which she now realized had been tense and aching all day. The touch of the synthetic reigns reminded her that she had nothing to worry about here. The synthetic tack, a young horse, tree leaves; nothing she would touch would inflict her with any painful memories, and if they brought anything she would be frozen for no more than a few minutes, as nothing could take her back very far. It was such an amazing relief; she realized she’d been craving it for days now. The creek worried her some, but she had no intention of crossing it today. Besides, water in large volumes never posed a threat; it was only when she touched small enough drops that the molecules had stayed together for long periods of time. Once, she had been lost for nearly a week because of the spray from a yard sprinkler in the park.

But it was a bad idea to think about all the bad episodes she had had. Right now she could concentrate on the moment, the leaves and the spring, and her green horse. She squeezed her heels gently against Poster’s sides, and off they went at a trot. The longleaf pines and oaks along the creek path provided ample shade for almost the entire day, and there were several jumps placed along this trail as well as some of the ones constructed for the water. Poster shied at almost all of these, despite his having been along this trail many times before, but Laurelin was unworried. She laughed and kept a firm but gentle leg on him to keep him in line.

The path curved around to the edge of her property, where their creek met the river. Here she turned up the hill away from the creek and river where a gate led in to one of the pastures. This pasture was usually used for hay, but it was rotated off this year and she had gotten in the habit of taking Dusty and Wink here to ride when she could spare the time, only usually via the pasture aisles, as the creek path took a fair bit longer. Now she was introducing Poster to her recent favorite spot. Out in the fields, the sun was shining warmly, which of course meant the flies were out, but it was such a perfect day and Poster’s trot was quick enough to keep them mostly at bay that she just didn’t care. She felt more at peace than she had in weeks, she wished she could stay out here forever, riding through the hills and trees and fields.

Ring. Ring. Ring... Andy impatiently counts the rings. It’s after classes; the professor should be in his office or lab. There have been too many rings for there to be an answering machine, but if no one picks up soon Andy decides he’ll have to wait till later and call the professor at home. He only has a little while before they start feeding the horses, and he doesn’t know what time the professor will be home or how late he might be up.

But he’s in luck.

“Dr. Sheffield, Archaeology Department,” the professor says impatiently.

Suddenly Andy finds he’s nervous. “Umm, hello Professor Sheffield, this is Andrew Taylor, I’m a friend of Laurelin Forester?”

“Taylor you say? Well I know Laurel, has she reconsidered my offer?”

“Er, I don’t know, what offer was that?”

“Oh I guess not then. I offered her a position in the department, whatever division she wanted. But she hasn’t even been particularly willing to help me lately so I didn’t expect her to agree. The offer still stands, though, if she ever wants it. The Department Head loves her, he’s always calling me asking if she could go to some site or another, help solve some mystery. None of my colleges approve, though, they think she’s a witch, or pretending to be one. Peer revision is a bitch.”

“Well, see, I was calling about Miss Forester, particularly about why she doesn’t want to help you lately.”

“Oh? She’s trying to dissociate herself from all this, is she not?”

“Umm, that’s precisely it. She doesn’t want anything to do with her ability. Have you ever tried talking to her?”

“Oh yes. I can’t blame her for wanting to keep a low profile. After that nasty tabloid incident I was afraid I was going to be fired and she driven out of town. That’s why I thought she might want a job, you see, so she had a legitimate cover. Is the press snooping around again?”

“No, no, nothing like that at all. It’s that she’s having more episodes. I’m afraid she’s doing herself more harm than good by avoiding it.”

“Hmm, well she has always had episodes, even when she was helping me. All that helps is rest. Has she had another long period of dissociation?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Well then she’ll be fine. She’s always been cautious about handling her episodes and always feels them coming. You don’t have anything to worry about. Now if you’ll excuse me I’d like to get back to work.”

Andy tries to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Sorry I interrupted you professor. Thank you for your time.”

“I always have time for Laurelin. Take care, Trevor.”

“Thanks, and it’s Taylor, sir. Andy Taylor.”

“Yes of course. Goodbye.”

Andy hears the phone click before he can say goodbye.

Laurelin trudged up the path to her house, every muscle lax with exhaustion, although she still felt the glow of the post-workout endorphins. Her dirty blonde hair had escaped its pony tale and was flapping by her face. She thought how lovely a bath would feel, complete with candles and bath oils. First she had to worry about dinner, however, especially as Beth had agreed to eat with her tonight. Crystal had to go home, Maria refused but reminded her to get another barn cat, and Andy never liked being invited to girls’ night, and besides he had a date, so it was just her and Beth. Beth was still at the barn, giving Jess a bath. Beth really was attached to that horse; she hoped Beth would be able to let her go when she was done training her.

Laurelin pulled her boots off and left them outside the door. As she walked through the kitchen to the fridge she saw the light on her answering machine blinking. With a groan she went over to check it. Only one message, thank god.

She pressed the play button. Beeeeep

“Laurie, you had better the hell call me back. My wife told me today about what you said to her that night. What kind of sick games are you playing at? Not only do I have to abandon Forest Farms to you, now my wife threatens to leave me? Bullshit, Laurie. You better tell me what’s going on, or I’m coming after you for the farm. You’ve got my number, use it!” click

She stood frozen, staring at the answering machine. Her brother’s irate voice echoed in her head. His wife? What had she told his wife? Jacky Forester was a fine woman in her own way, but Laurelin couldn’t remember having spoken more than ten words to her in all her life. Was this another repercussion of the ring affair? God, she hoped not. But Jacky hadn’t even been in the country for that. And as far as she knew, only Andy, Ash, and the professor knew what she had said that night. What else could he be referring to? And he was certainly powerful enough again to take the Farm from her. The question was would he risk it.

She walked numbly over to the fridge and retrieved the tomatoes, carrots, and lettuce. She pulled a cutting board and knife from a cupboard and began preparing a salad, all the while wondering what to say to her brother. Were there statutes of limitation of murder?

She picked up another tomato and began cutting when the tomato attacked her.

A garden, it’s hot. The tomatoes are still green. The tomato feels water trickling warmly to it from the stem. It feels quite acutely the heat of the noontime sun, but it does not feel too hot, instead it feels quite pleasant. It gets a sensation of pleasure in the sun from its vine and the entire plant it is part of, as well. Two Hispanic men are walking slowly down the rows of tomato plants, speaking some form of Spanish. The tomato doesn’t understand what they’re saying; it barely notices. Then suddenly, one of them grips the tomato and pulls it off its vine. The tomato doesn’t understand what is happening, it feels wrong and misses the vine. Then it can no longer feel the sun.

Time flashes forward, the tomato is cold, and still green. It feels stiff and nearly dead. It has been coated with some fluid, although it doesn’t really notice, nor remember when that happened. Then there’s a bright light. The tomato feels warm again, too warm, and the light feels very wrong; it’s not the sun at all. The tomato feels too warm for a long time, but it can feel changes that are happening to it. It isn’t aware of it, but the tomato becomes red, and at an unnatural speed. Then the light is gone, and it’s in a supermarket. It feels cold again. There’s something sticky on it, about the size of a bug, but it doesn’t feel like a bug. Hands pick it up, move it about. Then another hand like all the others picks it up and takes it with. There are some other tomatoes with it, but it doesn’t really notice how many or what they look like. Time flashes forward again...

Laurelin came back to herself and stared at the tomato. She tried to recall if she’d ever had unintentional flashes from vegetables before. Was harvesting that traumatic for a tomato that she could experience it unbidden? She was already a vegetarian, was she going to have to give up pre-ripe harvested fruits and vegetables? With an exasperated sigh, she dismissed it as a fluke and continued cutting the tomato, although not without some guilt.

Just then, Beth walked in.

“Everybody’s tucked in for the night, although if Blue kicks the walls like he did last night Maria and Jose are going to hang me. I moved him next to Mouse, I can’t imagine he would find her aggravating.”

Laurelin smiled. “If he does, you can bet Mouse won’t notice. If he kicked the wall through Mouse’d just stand there munching her hay. How old is she now? 23?”

“I think she’s been 23 for a couple years now,” Beth laughed, “I wish we had papers for her, we could find out.”

“Doesn’t matter, the kids wouldn’t remember anyway. I heard one telling her friend Mouse was a hundred years old!”

“Can I help with dinner?” Beth asked when she managed to control her laughter.

“Sure, there’s pasta in the cupboard, just boil water and that’ll be that,” Laurelin said with a smile.

Beth rummaged around until she found a pot and the pasta.

“Hey Laurel, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but are you okay? You haven’t seemed yourself the last couple of days.”

Laurelin stopped mixing the salad and turned to her friend. She honestly didn’t know what to say, or how to explain how morally tired she had felt lately, or why she had felt this way at all. She had to admit, she’d been near to depression the last few days, which was decidedly uncharacteristic of her, but she had no explanation.

“I don’t know,” she finally said, unable to meet Beth’s eye. “But I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to find out any time soon. My brother called.”

It was Beth’s turn to freeze. “Your brother? When? What did he say?”

Laurelin didn’t answer; instead she turned to the answering machine and hit play.

Beth stood aghast when the message finished. She put her hand to her agape mouth and slid shakily into a chair at the kitchen table. “Oh my god, Miss Forester. What was that all about?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to his wife bar two occasions, and he was there for that and we didn’t exchange more than pleasantries. I guess I have to call him, find out what’s going on.”

“Does this have anything to do with that night...”

“That’s the only thing I can think he means,” she said. “Will have to tell the others.”

“Yes,” Beth said absently. “Miss Forester, what does he know about your... episodes?”

“What he knows he doesn’t like to admit. He’s my brother; after all, he grew up with me. But he’s a businessman, and he doesn’t like to think about anything beyond that, never has. But tell me something, Beth, what do you know? Andy knows a great deal, more even than the professor. But I don’t really know what you and Crys know, or Maria and Jose for that matter.”

It was Beth’s turn to not want to make eye contact. “Andy hasn’t said much, he’s a quiet one, you can trust him with your secrets. But Crys and I aren’t blind. You have some kind of sight or perception, but you can’t completely control it, which is why you’re tired sometimes. It really bothers you, I can tell.”

Laurelin squirmed. It was unnerving how accurate Beth’s guesses were. She suddenly realized she didn’t like the idea of Beth and Crystal knowing so much. They were her best friends bar Andy, and she didn’t want them thinking of her as abnormal. Why couldn’t she have a normal life, dammit?

“I don’t think Crys knows that much,” Beth was saying, “although she knows you have some problem, but I think she thinks it’s like epilepsy or something. Crys is rather involved with Crys and Crys’ life, although she thinks more than I’d expect we’d be likely to give her credit for.”

Laurelin smiled at that, and looking at Beth she saw she was grinning mischievously. “Crys does have some tact, I’ll grant her that.”

“Heh, Crystal Waters, I think she married Chuck just so she could change her surname.”

Laurelin laughed, grateful Beth was changing the subject.

“What is wrong with our parents? Laurel Branch and Ash Leif Forester, Crystal Waters, Beth Lee Hamm. You’d think they were trying to make our lives hell!” As Laurelin was speaking she realized what a horrible topic she’d brought up. Beth’s parents were still alive, but Beth had said once she sometimes wished they weren’t. Ash was a selfish opportunist who had just now reappeared in Laurelin’s life to torment her again. Her own parents were dead. Crystal’s family wasn’t so bad, but her brothers had all been older than her and were probably the reason she was a tomboy. She hadn’t exactly had a stellar childhood, although it couldn’t compare to Andy’s, or Beth’s.

She and Beth fell silent, lost in their own thoughts. Beth gave Laurelin a shy hug, then got up to keep the water from boiling over. Laurelin returned to the salad.

Laurelin sat staring at the phone, address book in hand.

“Do I have to call him?” she asked Beth.

“You know you do,” Crystal said before Beth could answer.

Andy and Crystal were in Laurelin’s kitchen the following evening. Andy put a hand on her shoulder supportively. Laurelin stared at the New York number next to her brother’s name. She took a deep breath and hit the speakerphone button.

The four stood around the ringing phone in Laurelin’s small ranch house waiting to hear their fate. They had finally been freed of Ash Forester, and only Crys had no fear of dealing with him again.

“Forester,” a hasty, distracted voice answered.

“It’s me,” Laurelin said uncertainly. “What’s this all about, Ash?”

“Laurie! Look, I’m on my way to a meeting, couldn’t you have waited until after business hours?”

“It’s after seven, Ash! Ugh, fine, make it quick then.”

There was a pause when they could hear him talking to someone with him. When he came back on the line he spoke in a hushed but furious tone.

“What the hell did you tell my wife that night? You said as long as I was out of your life, no one would know! What’s the big idea, Laurie!”

“Ash, I didn’t tell Jacky anything. She was in Florence during and for months after. I haven’t spoken with her since... god, since your wedding! Why would I tell her anything? I thought we had this matter closed and behind us.”

“Damn you, what are you trying to pull? I left you alone like you asked, what do you want of me? Do you hate me that much?”

Laurelin paused. She had quite a bit of anger and frustration she would like to take out on her brother, fair enough. “I don’t hate you. I had all but forgotten you until you called me yesterday. There must be some misunderstanding.”

“Screw that! Look, I’ll call you in an hour. I can’t talk now.”

“Ash, wait!” But he had hung up.

Laurelin sagged over the table, exhausted and disappointed. “Dammit,” she said, without much feeling.

“That- that- that- bug!” Crys said, looking every bit as angry as Laurelin though she should feel. “Who does he think he is, blaming all his troubles on you? I say feed him to the wolves! Whatever you’ve got on him, Miss Forester, you ram it down his throat! He deserves whatever you can dish up!”

“I wish it were that simple,” Laurelin said, disheartened. “But what do we do now? Wait around for him to call?”

“That’s all we can do,” Andy said. “Here, I’ll make some coffee. You girls go get the cake from my car. I got it to share with my date from last night, but she reneged on a second date.”

Crystal was still agitated and clearly wanted to continue her rant, but Beth pulled her along. Laurelin didn’t go with.

“Andy, are you okay? You’re normally not so downbeat about your love life. Did you talk to Felicity again?”

“No, I guess my heart’s just not in it recently. I haven’t since Felicity, I guess. Well, that’s not entirely true. When I first started dating again I really was, I was desperately into it, almost. But now... I dunno. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other.”

“I know that feeling.”

“Laurel,” Andy started after a pause, “I think you should let yourself use your gift more. The more you- ”

“No.” Laurelin said firmly. How could she? All they ever did was get her in to trouble and cause her pain and heartbreak. She could see Andy was about to say something more, but luckily Crys and Beth came back to interrupt.

Andy fell silent, returning his attention to the coffee. Crys continued where she’d left off in her Ash-is-evil rant, and Beth set about cutting the cake. In the middle of their coffee and angel food, the phone rang, making them all jump.

For a moment, they all sat there, looking at each other. Then Laurelin reached timidly for the phone. This time she forgot to put it on speakerphone and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” she said timidly.

No response.

“Hello?” she asked again, a bit more annoyed this time.

“Yes, Mrs. Forester? I’d like to enquire about your central heating and air conditioning. Tell me, do you have central air? Or is the man of the house at home to discuss the matter?”

Usually Laurelin would have hung up, but she was so relieved she just laughed at the woman.

“No, but the man of the house is due to call any time to threaten me with legal action, so if you don’t mind I’m going to hang up now.”

Before she could hear the telemarketer’s response, she put the phone back on the hook and laughed. Andy, Crys, and Beth looked at her strangely. Between gasps for air she managed to say “telemarketer”, to which they all joined her in her amusement.

Before they’d gotten a hold of themselves, the phone rang again. Laurelin, still laughing but trying to catch her breath, picked up the receiver. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested. I’ve already got central air.”

“Laurelin?!” a very confused but angry Ash said.

Laurelin froze.

“Ash.”

“Yes, it’s Ashton, who did you think I was?”

“Er-”

“Listen, sister dear, my wife told me she knew what I had done and that she was going to file for divorce next week if I didn’t make amends. She says she’s known since I left Forest Farms for New York. Stop shitting me, Laurie, and tell me what you’ve done.”

“Ash, I swear to you I never told her anything. Either she’s talking about something else or I told her while having an episode. But I’m rarely coherent when that happens and I’ve never known myself to use a phone while out of it. So please, Ash, you need to find out more about what she knows and how she knows it before blaming it on me. I want this to be behind us as much as you do. How do you even know she’s talking about the same thing?”

“Oh, so I’m just that much of a bastard that I’d have plenty of skeletons in my closet to choose from, is that it?”

“I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Like hell!”

“Ash! What do you want me to do? Whatever she knows, there’s nothing I can do about it, and if I call her and tell her I was lying and she’s talking about something completely different I’m only going to make it worse! Maybe her information is bad; maybe she was told or found out about something that isn’t true. You need more information before you go destroying all our lives! What were her exact worlds, Ash? What was happening when she said this? What did you say back?”

“It doesn’t matter what you say, my lawyers strip you of every bit of credibility you can muster! No one will believe you when it’s over!”

“Stop it! I’m trying to work with you here! Now answer my questions or I’ll call your wife and get the answers that way.”

“Don’t you threaten me, Laur-”

“I’m not threatening you I’m giving you a choice!”

“We were coming back from a social function. Our relationship had been on the rocks for the past six months or so. I tried to make up with her, she said ‘I know what you did, Ashton, I’ve known since we decided to leave for New York.’ I asked what she was talking about; she said she had told her lawyer to put the paperwork in to file for divorce next week unless she told him otherwise. She then told me she would only tell him that if I made amends for what I’d done. I asked her how I could do that, and she looked at me coldly. I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about and she said I knew and walked out. She’s staying with our son at his apartment in Massachusetts. What the hell am I supposed to do, Laurie? Do you really expect me to believe you had nothing to do with this?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Ash. I don’t see how I could have precipitated this. But tell you what. I’ll call her under the pretence that I’m acting as mediator between you two and see what I can find out. If I was any way involved, I’ll do whatever I can to stop this. But if I wasn’t, you’re on your own. I’ll tell you anything I find out but I am not taking the heat for this otherwise.”

“Fine, I’ll give you the phone number.” Ash didn’t sound too pleased about her idea, but he clearly didn’t have any other options, particularly since he had called her to begin with.

“Good, now I’ll call you tomorrow, or if I don’t get through I’ll call you once I have. Alright?”

“Fine. But I’m warning you, Laurie...”

“I know, I know, I’ve got nearly as much on the line as you do. Goodbye, Ash.”

They hung up. Laurelin sat pondering for a moment trying to collect herself.

“What happened?” Crys asked after a long moment of silence.

Laurelin waited a moment before responding, still trying to deal with what was happening. She had not learned much at all from Ash, all his phone call had done was unsettle and fluster her. “I have to call Jacky.”

She picked up the receiver again and dialed the number Ash had given her.

A young man picked up the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Umm, hi, I’m Laurel, I’m calling for Jacky Forester?”

“Ohhh, Ben’s mom. Yeah, she’s here I think, you want me to get her?”

“Yes, please.”

She heard him put the phone down, and a second later she heard him yelling for Mrs. Forester. A phone elsewhere in the house was picked up by an irate Jacky.

“Who is this?” Jacky Forester snapped.

“Jacky, this is Laurelin, Ash’s sister?”

“What do you want?”

“I’m calling because of Ash. He said you had left, and that he couldn’t talk to you. I’m not surprised, I’ve never been able to talk to him,” Laurelin said wryly, trying to sound more put-upon than scared.

“Ashton is a pig. What are you calling for?”

“He said he could make amends, but he doesn’t know how or what for. What did the pig do, Jacky? Just tell me how he can put it straight and I’ll bet I can make him see reason. Hell, you can still divorce him after that if you want, it’s none of my concern.”

“If it’s none of your concern, why are you calling?”

“Because Ash talked me into it. He’s very threatening when he’s angry and I have no desire to tangle with him again.”

“Look, I’m sure your brother is every bit as cruel to you as he is to me, but it is between him and me. He knows what he’s done, he doesn’t need to hear it from me again.”

“What’d he do? Cheat on you?”

“I said it was none of your business. Good day.”

“Wait, Jacky, it doesn’t matter you don’t have to tell me. Just tell me what he can do to make it up. I really don’t think he knows. Whatever it is, I’ll do everything in my power to make him do it.”

“Lora, you’ve always seemed like a bright girl. Why don’t you keep your nose out of other people’s business?”

“Look, I know it seems like I’m just prying, but if I don’t do something to appease my brother, he’s going to rain down his unholy might on me, and I’d rather have him out of my life. Can’t you tell me something?”

Jacky sighed. “If the great Ashton Forester needs his memory jogged, tell him the police have mercy on those that give themselves up freely. Now good day to you.” Jacky slammed the phone down.

Laurelin held the phone for another moment before replacing it on the hook. She hadn’t learned much, but what she had learned could only be bad. She felt tears welling up behind her eyes, but she was afraid if she started crying now she wouldn’t be able to stop. So much grief...

She turned to her friends and told them everything Jacky had said. “So now what do I do?”

The three sat in silence for a minute considering. Andy finally broke the silence. “Well it seems to me, you know two things. Jacky didn’t get her information from you, and doesn’t think you already know. That’s good. However, it’s also clear she wants Ash to go to the police, which we all know he won’t do, even if it’s for something like embezzlement or some shady business dealings. I think you should tell Ash that whatever Jacky knows, it isn’t that, and that she doesn’t think you know and doesn’t want to tell you.”

Crys shook her head. “That’s all very well, but do you really think he’ll let us go on that? He won’t be satisfied, he’ll be in the same position and it’ll just look like Miss Forester is trying to duck out of answering for it.”

“What’s Jacky’s son’s name?” Beth asked.

“Ben,” Laurelin said.

“Could you call Ben? Do you think he’d know something?”

“I doubt it,” Andy said, “they don’t exactly strike me as a functional family.”

Laurelin thought about it. “Andy’s right, but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

They all looked glumly down at the glass tabletop. The situation was rather gloomy. Laurelin picked up the phone again. She got the same guy who had picked up before.

“Yeah?”

“Hi, is Ben home?” she asked in her cheeriest, youngest voice she thought sounded credible.

“Nah, he’s out with Elisa. You got his cell?”

“No, I don’t suppose you could give it to me could you?”

“Sure. Hey, wait a minute, you’re not Rachel, are you? I know I wouldn’t want him giving my number out to my exes, especially if I were on a date.”

After she had assured her that she wasn’t, he pressed her to know what she wanted, and she finally had to make up a line about being a classmate calling about exams. As soon as she said it she was afraid exams were either already over or not for months, but the guy bought it, so her lie was obviously a good one. Once she had the number, she was about to dial immediately when she thought better of it. She wanted a willing witness, and interrupting a date was a bad way of going about it.

“So that’s it for tonight I guess,” she said miserably.

“I guess so,” said Crys. Beth and Andy just looked depressed.

“I hate phones,” she said. She stood up, picking up everyone’s plates and cups and taking them to the sink.

After that, there was little to say. Laurelin offered to let everyone spend the night at her house, although they’d likely end up sleeping on horse blankets. Andy and Beth refused politely, Crys refused quite adamantly. “’Sides, Chuck’s prolly starvin’ without me there to scrounge up some food.” Andy left last and reluctantly. He clearly wanted to say more but eventually decided to let it be. Laurelin wasn’t in the mood to discuss anything serious, anyway. Especially not if he was going to tell her to use her gift more often. She loved Andy, but there was only so much she could take.

Andy sits on a hay bale watching Beth take Woody through a jump course. She’s set up a bunch of gymnastics interwoven with the course, and Woody doesn’t like it one bit. But Andy’s mind isn’t on Woody and Beth, it is on Miss Forester. She’s in her house up on the hill making the phone call. It’s after lunch and about an hour before the next group show up for a lesson. Miss Forester had been pondering this phone call all day, although she hasn’t been talking about it. But Andy can read it in her face. He doesn’t know what she’s going to tell Ben, or how she’s going to convince him not to tell his mother, but whatever she’s saying, she’s saying it now.

Beth is frustrated; she’s getting Woody ready for the upcoming horse trial in a month, and she doesn’t think he’ll be ready. She comes over to ask Ben if he’ll move the jumps for her. She thinks she has the striding wrong, but more likely she’s distressed because she thinks Woody should get the striding, even if it’s a little tight. Woody is Beth’s highest competitor, and he’s coming back from an injury he had last fall. Woody’s owner doesn’t want Beth or Miss Forester to push Woody too fast, but Beth is trying to prove her wrong by getting him in shape for this show.

Andy moves the jumps apart for her and walks the striding again to show her. “See, it’s still one to one to two, and he should get a little more room now so he doesn’t get too deep. Don’t let him lengthen his stride,” he says. As he’s leaving the ring again, he sees Miss Forester coming down the path towards them. He stops to watch, tries to see if he can read her success or failure in her stride and bearing. Instead, he almost gets run over by Woody and Beth. “Geez, Andy, you okay?” “Yeah yeah,” he says, hurrying out of the ring but still watching Miss Forester. He wants to go talk to her, see how it went, but Beth calls to him again. “Put the poll back up for me, Andy?” Woody got the striding this time, but didn’t pick his feet up.

When Andy’s done putting the PVC pipe that acts as a poll back in the jump cups, Miss Forester is gone from sight. Andy tells Beth he’ll be right back and heads for the barn.

Miss Forester is sitting slumped on a tack box by Wink’s stall. Wink is Miss Forester’s most recent prize show horse, and still rising. He’s a stallion and she hopes he’ll show well enough that when they retire him they’ll be able to get a high stud fee. But Wink and all the other horses are in the pastures. Miss Forester is alone. And crying.

“He didn’t know anything,” she says quietly, tears marching silently down her face. “What do I do now, Andy?” She puts her hands to her eyes, pulls her knees up to chest, and sniffles.

Andy can’t say anything, doesn’t know what to say. He goes over and sits next to Miss Forester, and hugs her. “Only thing we can do,” he says, “call Ash, tell him what we know.”

Miss Forester cries a little harder. “What if he still takes it out on us? On me? He’ll kick us all off the farm and keep the horses. Some of the boarders and a lot of the students will come with us, but we’ll loose almost everything we’ve worked for! And where will we go? Buddy hates horses. Sasha’s over-grazed as it is. Simon never forgave me for buying Dusty out from under him, and Daphne will only feel threatened. I have nowhere to turn. This is my home. My friends are here. The four of us can’t afford a damn thing, and even so Ash might let you and Beth stay, although he hates Crys. And she’s got Chuck. I know I still have you guys, but in the face of so much loss it seems like all I’ve got.”

“We fight. You can’t go down without a fight, Miss Forester, and besides, how do you know you’ll loose? If you tell the police what we know, there’s not much Ash Forester can do. He’s not that powerful.”

“Why didn’t I come forward earlier? What about those tabloid stories? And the professor? No, I’m just not credible enough as a witness anymore. If Jacky comes forward now, she at least can say she only recently found out. But I don’t think that’s her secret. The problem is Ash doesn’t believe that. I-”

Miss Forester freezes. She has that far away look in her eye, and Andy knows immediately she is going back in time. He looks over her frantically to see what had caused it. Has anything fallen on her? Is she holding anything? What had been touching her skin? But Andy can’t figure out what. It could have been a dust mite, it could have been her clothes, her tears, it even could have been him. He can only wait, see if he can tell how far back she’s going. “Miss Forester?” he tries hopefully.

Her breathing is deep but labored. Her muscles are tense. Her eyes flutter around rapidly, as if she’s dreaming. A long moment passes as Andy wishes he could do something. He doesn’t even know how long this will be. The longest time was nearly a week, and she wouldn’t tell anyone how far back she had gone that time or what she had seen. They were really frightened for her that time. But on average, her attacks last a few hours, although they range from five minutes to twelve hours easily.

Now she’s shouting. “No! No! Don’t kill her!” she cries. The emotion in her voice is heartbreaking. Then she comes back to the present, fresh tears in her eyes.

She turns to Andy with a look like a little girl who has just realized her mother is dead, and that she won’t be coming back. All the unfairness of the world pours out of Miss Forester’s eyes at that moment. She throws her arms around Andy and clings to him. “They killed her,” she weeps. “They cut her down. She was so strong!” The tears are flowing freely now and she’s sobbing. “Why? She was a beautiful tree! She lived for so long! Why?”

Andy hugs her. He wishes he could say something, anything, anything to make her forget the unfairness, or accept it, or even just to stop feeling the pain. But all he can do is hug her.

Her tears lesson and as she pulls herself together she says, “You know, I’ve never seen a laurel tree.” She pulls away, not meeting his eye, but she is embarrassed about her episode and the following tear works, she clearly thinks her comment about laurel trees was cogent. Andy suddenly feels deeply concerned about her; her sanity may be in jeopardy.

“I’m sorry, Andy.” She touches the wooden wall behind her. Ah, so that’s what set her off. “I hate it when people witness that kind of crap.”

“It’s not crap,” Andy says, but he can tell she’s not listening.

“I’m going to go call Ash,” she says flatly. “I don’t think I can stand to wait another couple of hours.” She stands up and heads back towards her house, but after a few steps she stops and examines the wooden wall. “You know, if we get kicked out and have to rebuild, we need cement walls or brick or something. I wish I could give that tree back its life.”

“Everything dies sometime,” Andy says, but he can’t tell if she hears him or not. She just considers the wall for a moment more, and then walks away.

Andy sits on the tack trunk for a moment more, trying to tell himself not to care so much. You can’t make people see things, he tells himself. But he can’t make himself see things either.

Laurelin slammed the phone back on its base. So it’s a war he wants. Well, he can have it!

Laurelin waited a moment before picking the phone back up. When she did, she dialed quickly, and when she had finished she realized she hadn’t called Jacky or the lawyer she knew at all, she had called the professor. For a crazy second she wondered if she should hang up, but then hoped the professor was in class, or otherwise too occupied to answer. She was wondering how long to let it ring before she could hang up when the professor answered.

“Dr. Sheffield, Archaeology Department,” he said in his usual dry tone.

“Professor?” she asked in a small voice.

“Laurel! Oh how wonderful to hear from you. Your friend had me worried, I was wondering if you were having difficulties again.”

“Friend?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“Yes, a Trevor if I recall. Or was it Alexander?”

“Do you mean Andrew Taylor?”

“Yes! That’s the one. I have such a horrible time with names.”

“When did he call?”

“Several days ago, I think. He said you were having more attacks, and that you hadn’t reconsidered the research position.”

Laurelin smiled. The professor was self-centered in his own way, although it was more that he was centered on his research and wouldn’t, or couldn’t, devote his attention to the people around him. It was one of the reasons she couldn’t bring herself to take him up on his offer. Although, considering that she might loose her home and her horses and everything else in her life, it was suddenly reassuring to know she had something to fall back on, even if only temporarily. But that could wait. “I didn’t know he called. But anyway, I called because... well I’m having trouble with my brother again.”

“Ahh, Birch, isn’t it? Or Oak?”

“Ash,” she said, trying to suppress a laugh. “See, his wife found out a secret of his and is threatening him with divorce. Ash thinks it’s the secret we know about, and that I told his wife. I tried reasoning with him but he doesn’t believe me. I don’t know what other secret it could be, but I doubt very much it’s the secret we know. I tried talking with Ash, his wife, and his son, but Ash says he doesn’t know, the son definitely doesn’t know, and his wife won’t tell me. Professor, you’ve never told anyone about... that secret, have you? Or have you ever met or talked to Ash’s wife, Jacky?”

“No, Laurel dear, I’ve kept that secret very safe. I’ve never talked to anyone about it, not even my wife, except for you. And we haven’t discussed it in a long time.”

“I didn’t think so professor, but I’m at the end of my ropes. You don’t know anything else Ash might be hiding, do you?”

“No, I don’t know much about your brother save what you tell me. I knew he was a shrewd businessman before he left, and I gather he still is. If I had to guess I’d say he had some shady dealings of some sort, but I really don’t know of anything.”

“That was my guess as well. Well I’m sorry I bothered you, professor, but it was wonderful to hear a friendly voice.”

“You never bother me, Laurel. But say, you haven’t reconsidered a job here, have you?”

Laurelin smiled. “I’ll tell you what, if I get kicked out of my house and can’t find another job, I would definitely take you up on that offer. I just hope by then my name hasn’t been dragged through the mud so much that your department won’t have me.”

“Don’t you worry about that, dear. Oh! But I almost forgot. The other reason I was considering calling you was I’ve got another package I’d like you to take a look at. May I send it to you?”

Laurelin sighed. “Well, I don’t see why not. It’s not a ritual knife used in human sacrifices, is it?”

The professor laughed. “No of course not. It’s some crockery. Well I think it’s some crockery, but I’m having a ghastly time with it. If you can tell me when you think it’s from and especially who owned it I’d be much obliged.”

“Sure, professor. Send away.”

“Thank you, Laurelin. Now, about your brother, if there’s anything I can do just let me know. And give him hell, no one deserves a comeuppance like him, and no one deserves to give it to him more than you.”

“We don’t always get what we deserve. Bye professor, and thanks again.”

“Goodbye!”

Laurelin made a very unproductive phone call to Jacky Forester, then an only slightly more productive call to her lawyer friend. When she mentioned Ash’s name, the poor man froze. Ash was certainly a name to be feared. Afterwards, she sat unhappily at her kitchen table. She was running out of things to do, and none of her prospects looked particularly bright. She thought of her pink flower pendant, and considered having a reminiscent moment. God knows she needed it. But she thought better of it. It would only make her more upset at the end to think about her mother, dead all these years, and it was only an escape. Half the reason she never wore her amulet was she was afraid it would become an addiction. She only used it to ward off unwelcome bouts of time seeing, and while it gave her strength, and reminded her that there was good in the world as well as unfairness, she was afraid of becoming dependant on it to solve every tear and misfortune in her life. It couldn’t take away the unfairness of life, no matter how hard she tried. When they had found the body of that poor woman by the creek, she had spent hours fighting with herself to keep herself from escaping to that night with her mother. She would have done anything to erase the memory of seeing the woman’s life and subsequent death at the hands of Ash over and over. But she had persevered. She had endured the night, remembering her mother and her mother’s love from her own memory without going there in person to witness it. Nothing compared to that triumph, and she could not undermine it now by hiding behind her amulet.

She picked up the phone again. And called Ash.

“He’s doing what?!” Crys looked as incredulous as Ash had sounded. “You can’t bring him here, what good will that do? He’ll only intimidate and threaten us in person! Why would you do such a thing, Laurelin Forester?”

“I have to know what he’s hiding. I couldn’t bring Jacky here, so I’m doing the next best thing. It’s my... it’s our only hope. We can’t fight him; the law and business are his home courts. I think the reason he’s resorted to blaming me is not just because he’s out of options, but he’s afraid I already know, or could know, or am somehow going to be used against him. He’s perfectly willing to go through with this divorce, that’s clear from both his and Jacky’s behavior. Something else is frightening him and I need to know what it is.”

Andy was looking at her funny. “Does that mean you’re willing to find out in a non-conventional way?”

“Yes. My ‘ability’ is what got us into this mess, and I’m hoping I can use it to get us out of it.” Laurelin paused for a minute, looking uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to apologize to them. “I’m... I’m sorry I dragged you guys into this. I know you were already in it because you work here, but Andy’s in it worse because he was there, and you guys are in it by association. I never meant for that to happen.”

“Oh, hell, Laurelin,” Crys said. “I’m in it because of my big mouth. Don’t matter about your finding out his secrets; I pissed him off from day one my own self. And I’d do it all over again, too, just ‘cause I can’t stand him.”

Laurelin smiled. Crys certainly had strong convictions.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Andy said, “we’ll do anything we can to help.”

“I know,” she said gratefully.

“Well Christ in a cornfield,” Crys said. She was laying her accent on really thick again. “I never thought we’d have to deal with Mr. My-name-is-Ashton here again. What’s the plan, Miss Forester? And how’d you get him to come all the way here, anyways?”

“I told him I’d tell everything today if he didn’t. I told him I’d tell the police I had witnessed the whole thing in person, and was too afraid of him then to say anything, and after he left I was too afraid he’d do exactly what he’s doing now to come forward then, and too ashamed to boot. I said I’d tell them the only reason I was coming forward now was because I had nothing left to loose. I said I’d tell them the whole tabloid story had been to get attention; I’d freely admit that. I said I’d tell the press after I told the police, and by the time he made his first move they’d be eating my story up and he’d have no room to breathe. You wouldn’t believe how long I went on like that. I think in the end he was so scared he might have left me alone for good. But it’s better this way, because if he changed his mind later, he could sneak-attack me before I could go talking, and by then no one would believe me anyway.”

“That’s quite a line, Miss Forester,” Beth said. “Would you really have done all that?”

Laurelin shrugged. “I didn’t want to, and I doubt if I really could have. I’d have gone to the police, sure, but I don’t know if I could have gone to the press, or even lied to the police about how I knew what I knew, or what happened with the tabloids so long ago. Who knows what you can do when pushed to such lengths? I already lied to and threatened my brother. I’m not too proud of that. I’m not too proud of how we got rid of him to begin with. Anna was murdered, and I let her killer get away. I don’t think his exile was even really a punishment. He never liked it here. And I... I traded her life for my freedom and this farm.”

“No you didn’t, Miss Forester,” Andy said gently, but with so much conviction she turned to look at him sharply. “Anna’s dead. You couldn’t stop her murder. It’s not fair. It can never be fair. Even if we had gone to the police that night, and your brother had gone to jail, and all that could have happened did, still she would have been murdered and it still wouldn’t be fair. I was there, Laurelin, if you had done anything other than what you had done, your brother would have gotten to ruin a lot more lives, and I still doubt he would have to jail. He was too powerful. He had too many police and judges and politicians in his pocket. How do you know the police didn’t find some evidence against him, and ‘lost’ it at his behest? Her body was found on Forester property, for god’s sake. There couldn’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind that she was killed there, and the only people that lived anywhere near that creek were you, your brother, and that Mexican couple you had working here that year. Come to think of it, they were lucky as hell they didn’t get charged or deported. If I hadn’t been with you when we found the body, you could easily have been charged if your brother had pulled enough strings. Miss Forester, you have nothing to be guilty for!”

Laurelin couldn’t argue with that. No one could. The cards had been stacked, and she’d managed to save Andy’s, the professor’s, and Alejo’s and Mónica’s lives from ruin that night. But hadn’t she done it to save her own? She wasn’t really sure. “Maybe so, but what I did still wasn’t right.”

Andy’s shoulder’s slouched, and his firmness leaked out of him like a balloon deflated as he retreated within himself. Laurelin suddenly felt awful for taking the wind from this sails. She was groping for something to say to him when Crystal interrupted.

“You didn’t answer my other question, what’s the plan?”

Defeated, Laurelin turned to Crys. “Well, to get his secret from him, and either expose it or pull another balancing act. He leaves me alone for his safety.”

“You think that’ll work?” Beth asked. There was some skepticism in her voice, but there was hope as well.

“I don’t know, but it’s the best I can come up with. A knock-down, drag-out fight doesn’t exactly favor us in the odds.”

“Who do you want with you when you face him?” Andy asked dully.

“Hell, we’re all in this, we all should be there!” Crys said.

“No,” Laurelin said. “He might run. He’ll be intimidated. I should be on my own.”

“You can not face him alone,” Beth said firmly. “He is far too dangerous and unpredictable. He’s the animal backed into a corner, and he may lash out if he’s not intimidated enough.”

“Beth is right,” Andy said. “We shouldn’t all be there, it’ll look too much like an ambush. But you need support in case he gets the idea he could get away with killing again. I think you should have either me or the professor with you, if not both.”

“He might smell the trap,” she protested.

“He’s not that clever. Besides, it’s too dangerous. Incidentally, why does he think you want him to come?” Andy said.

“I told him I wanted to discuss this so that we couldn’t hang up on each other. I told him I wanted to talk to him where I could look him in the eye. Besides, I said, if you’re going to ruin my life you should be man enough to face me while he does it.”

Andy nodded. “He’ll probably buy that.”

“I should hope so.”

“So what’ll it be? Me or the professor, or both?”

“Both. You were both there that night, you should both be there when we finish it.”

“You sure he won’t smell the trap?”

“No, three doesn’t look like we’re ganging up on him. Besides, the professor is hardly intimidating, and I’m not exactly super-girl. I don’t think he knows how well I can control my ability when I want to, either. He knows it comes unbidden, but he doesn’t know I can call it and control the passage of time I see with any accuracy when it’s by choice. He never understood my relationship with the professor. He left before I started getting packages in the mail instead of going to the university.”

Beth and Crys were listening to her closely. They had never had any clear idea of what her episodes were about, nor had they known until now how Ash had been chased away. Crys especially was learning quite a lot. She finally understood how Laurelin planned on getting his secrets from him, and now had the full picture of how Ash had been found out. Laurelin could see the gears turning behind Crys’ eyes.

“So now all we have to do is wait.”

Andy sits at Miss Forester’s kitchen table, watching Professor Sheffield play with his tea. He brought some pieces of metal with him for Miss Forester’s scrutiny, which looked as though they were buried in clay for the better part of a millennium. Miss Forester wrapped them in plastic and promised the professor she would look at them after Ash came and went. The professor agreed and now sits stirring his tea, intrigued by something, possibly the way the milk swirls’ patterns. He looks perfectly relaxed, as if this is just another dinner at Miss Forester’s house. Andy wishes he could be that calm.

Miss Forester however looks and acts even more nervous than Andy feels. She can’t stay still, she keeps fussing with the dishes, or offering Andy and the professor something else to eat, or when she runs out of ideas, she taps her nails nervously on the glass table. Eventually she can’t even stand that and goes into the everything room and comes back with a bridle. She always abhorred leather, probably because of the threat of witnessing the slaughter and skinning of a cow, so she really doesn’t have much to do to clean it. Nevertheless, she disassembles it, cleans the bit in the sink, then finds the metal polish and sets out to remove every bit of tarnish and dirt from the metal hooks and buckles. Her nervous energy sets Andy even more on edge, to the point where he wants to should to relieve the pressure. Andy sips his coffee.

The professor has moved on to a thorough examination of the paint strokes on his teacup when they hear steps on the gravel path outside. Miss Forester freezes, every thought of the synthetic bridle and its grimy buckles forgotten, and she stares at the door. Andy freezes as well, but he watches Miss Forester instead of the door. His stomach suddenly rebels against the coffee and the cookies. He remembers suddenly the night she was possessed by that ring. Ash had threatened her; he had physically cornered her and nearly hit her when his verbal threats had no affect. He remembers the image of her standing in the corner of this very house, her shoulders hunched and her arms braced in front of her in unconscious protection. That helpless look in her eyes...

Ash doesn’t even knock on the door. Andy swings his head in time with the door as Ash walks in. He stalks right in and stands legs apart, arms across his chest on the other side of the table. “So what do you want?” he asks angrily.

Ash is still tall, of course, but he’s balding now, and he doesn’t have the trim boxer physique he once had. All those years sitting in a boardroom have taken their toll on him. But he’s not small, nor is he a complete weakling yet. Andy decides that push come to shove, he could take Ash in a fight now, but not easily. Andy had always been short, but where Ash had had office jobs his whole life, Andy worked on this very farm for most of his twenty-eight years. Ash is now forty-two, and Miss Forester thirty-seven. Ash looks his age.

Miss Forester breathes out a ragged breath and stands to meet Ash’s eye. Her fear is plain in her eyes, but she speaks confidently and evenly. “This has to stop, Ash. I have nothing to do with the secrets your wife has found out. I can’t even begin to imagine what else you’ve done, but if I had to make a guess I’d say you had some shady business deals she found out about. Anything come to mind?”

“Shit, Laurie, I don’t have to answer to you! And stop calling me Ash! You know I hate that.”

Miss Forester grimaces. “I’m not asking you tell me what you’ve done, I’m only asking you to make a guess at something your wife could have discovered! I don’t care what it is; I only want you to leave me alone! Why can’t you do that?”

“Because I don’t believe you! Why should I? I have no reason to believe you or to leave you alone!”

“I’ll tell you why, because you know I’m telling the truth! Ashton, brother, even if I found out what it is your wife found out, do you think I’d tell? Why would I do such a thing? I have my life, I want to forget about you, do you think I would come after you out of what? Boredom? Unhappiness? Malice? You know I don’t go in for that sort of thing, even if you do.”

“Hellfire, Laurie! Do you expect me just to walk away? Pretend like none of this even happened?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do! Why can’t you?”

“Because I can’t ignore it! If I know where a threat is, I go out and hunt it down to eliminate the threat!”

“How am I a threat to you? Are you such a coward that you can’t gamble on the odds of your sister keeping her goddamn mouth shut to save her own skin? Do you think I would risk so much unless you threatened to take it all away from me?”

“What have you got? Huh? You have this pathetic farm and a handful of redneck friends with only the professor here for decent conversation. Why wouldn’t you risk that?”

“It’s my life! Pathetic though it may seem to you, I rather like it! Why can’t you let me have it?”

“Because I don’t believe you! How could you like it? I didn’t! I couldn’t stand it! I got away as soon as I could!”

Miss Forester says nothing. She just stares at Ash, all the anger and frustration gone. “I understand now. Grass is always greener syndrome. You thought I was happier than you with less than you had, so you tormented me until you killed Anna and it better served your interests to leave behind this hellhole where you grew up. But you didn’t find happiness out there, and it bothers you that I’m still happy. Did it ever occur to you, Ashton Forester, that I might have my own demons to vanquish? I’m sorry you don’t know how to fight yours, but I don’t really either. They were my parents, too!” At that her voice cracks and a tear trickles down her cheek.

“Yeah? Well they’re dead. So excuse me if I have trouble pitying you. Goodbye, sister, I hope you’re prepared for a fight.” He turns to leave.

Desperately she calls to him. “Ashley, wait!” She rushes around the table to intercept him.

At her voice, he stops. “Laurence,” he says in a strange voice but can’t turn towards her. She reaches him and touches his shoulder tenderly.

Ash sits in an office, probably his old one in town, reading through a document glumly. His secretary comes in and sets another folder on top of the pile already on his desk. She looks vaguely like his grandmother. “Will you be needing anything further, Mr. Forester?” she asks. Ash just shakes his head without looking up. “You can go home, I’ll be here forever,” he says humorlessly. The grandmotherly woman walks out and closes the door behind her. Ash throws the document back on the desk and rubs his eyes. He is tired; he hasn’t been getting much sleep lately. His girlfriend is being demanding and he thinks she might break up with him. His sister iss developing a suspicious affinity for her college professor, although her riding certainly hasn’t suffered. Maybe she's still missing their Dad. Their mom certainly is. But foremost on his mind iss this new building proposal. His firm is in all-out war mode with a big international firm over property rights and environmental impacts, and he has been working all hours to see they come out on top, just like all the firm’s major players. He takes another swig of coffee and picks up the document again.

His phone rings. Shit, it's probably that asshole Creighton calling to tell him he wasn’t working hard enough. But it will only make it worse if he doesn’t answer it. “Forester,” he says in a bored yet distracted tone. He is still reading the document. But when he hears the sobbing voice of Laurie on the phone, he forgets all about what the document said. “It’s mom, Ash, she... she... oh god Ash, come home! I think she’s dead!”

The police are already there when he reaches the gravel walk. Laurie sits in the garden, wrapped in a blanket some officer had given her. She rocks back and forth, clutching that stupid plastic party-jewelry necklace she loves so much. For a minute he thought she's having an attack, but her eyes, while clearly not registering a thing she sees, do not have that gone quality. So one less thing to worry about. A policeman in civilian clothing stops him as he made for the house. “This is a restricted area, sir, you can’t go in. Who are you?” I’m her goddamn son, he thinks. “I’m Ashton Forester, is my mother dead?” The detective averts his eyes. So it’s true, Ash realizes. “I’m afraid so, son. We think she injected herself with something. We’ll know more after an autopsy. She was dead before your sister found her. I think whatever she did, she went fast.” Ash’s mind races. “Why?” he croaks. “She left a note for you and your sister,” the detective says. He hands Ash a plastic bag, sealed and labeled, with his mother’s suicide note inside.

“I am so sorry. I can’t live without your father any longer. I thought I could go on, but every day is harder and darker. Ash, take care of your sister. Laurel, be good. I love you dearly. I wish that were enough to sustain me.”

Ash finds it difficult to breathe. He stares at the note, obviously his mom’s handwriting, but cannot believe it. “Why?” he says again, the plaintive note in his voice amplified. “I’m sorry, son,” the detective says. “These are the worst kinds of deaths we come across.” Ash suddenly hates the man with such a fury, as he had never known before. He stalkes away to keep himself from beating the man to death. He sees his sister again, huddling in her gray police blanket, still clutching her costume jewelry. “Where were you?” he demands angrily. “Why did you leave her alone?” Laurie starts to cry again and says, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry! I only went out to feed the horses!” But she still hasn’t actually seen him, he is just echoing thoughts she's already thinking to herself. But Ash is still furious. He wants to shout, he wants to shake his sister, he wants to make her tell him why. But his mom asks him to take care of her... “mommy...” his nineteen year old sister squeaks before another wave of tears wash down her face. How he hates her! She is always so weak and helpless! And she can’t tell him why!

Ash stalks off, down the gravel walk, down past the barn, down the trail towards the creek. His good black shoes and business suit collect mud as he stalked. Half way down the train he stops and screams, pounding his fists against a tree, shouting at the world in frustration and pain and anger. When he stops, he sits on a rock and rocks back and forth as his sister had done. He wants to cry, he needs to cry, but he can not cry. He sits there until dark, willing himself to cry, to grieve, but nothing comes. He feels hollow, robbed off all his family and emotion and everything he has learned to define himself by. Eventually, he walks back up the path to find his sister. He can take Laurie to his girlfriend’s apartment. He will sleep in his office. He has work to do.

Laurelin jerked back, tears streaming down her face. While she had been bouncing back and forth through the years of her brother’s life, Ash had tried to leave, but Andy and sort of the professor had restrained him. Both thought that she was examining Ash’s past intentionally, looking for this mysterious secret. But she had been called to witness their mother’s death from his perspective without her conscious effort. She looked at Ash, who had stopped struggling when he saw she was in the present again.

“Ash... I didn’t know, I’m so sorry,” she tried to say. But he had no clue what she was talking about.

“What did you see?” Andy asked, perplexed.

Laurelin took a while in answering. She was searching her brother’s eyes, hoping he knew, somehow, what she had seen. “Our mother. The day she died... how could I?”

Ash stiffened. “What do you know about it?” he asked accusingly.

“I thought... I thought you hated her. I thought you hated me. Ash? Do you remember? She, she didn’t like my episodes. She didn’t want to hear about them after Dad had his heart attack. She was the only one I ever used to tell about them, because she was the only one who understood. I thought that’s why she killed herself. I never saw that note. I needed to believe she still loved me. Loved us. She just loved Dad. I left her... Ash, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you why. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why, I never do. All I ever learn from these visions of the past is that there’s never a why when there should be. It’s been plaguing me and I can’t...”

Ash looked shocked. “How did you know...”

“I see what I don’t want to, Ashley. I hated my episodes as much as you did. But they’re real, and what I see was real, even when I don’t want it to be.”

He gazed at Laurelin for a long moment, as if he would read in her face the answer to his questions. “Why did you bring me here, Laurence?” But there’s no malice in his voice. Only concern and confusion.

“I needed to tell you why,” she said. She hadn’t meant to say it, but when it came out she realized it was true. “And I needed to know why.”

Ash walked over to her and touched her arm. “I’m sorry I didn’t look out for you.”

“I’m sorry I made you leave,” she said. She moved to hug him, but he flinched and she stopped. He looked embarrassed, but said nothing.

“Goodbye, Laurence. I have to go now. I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, please, stay? We’re not enemies anymore,” she implored.

“We’re not friends, either. I think we need some space before we can try that.”

Laurelin looked crestfallen but could think of nothing to say except, “Goodbye Ashley.” And he was gone.

Beth sits next to Miss Forester on the bench by the riding ring. Andy leans against the fence across from them. Crys holds Kaptain still inside the ring, looking on.

“Are you glad it’s over?” Beth asks.

“It’s not over,” she says, “I’m just sorry he’s gone. But yes, I’m glad we no longer have anything to worry about.”

“Hell, girl, you’ve been feelin’ awfully sorry for a load of ridiculous things lately!” Crys says. “Your brother didn’t just have a Christmas Carol ghost or nothin’, do you really think he’s had a complete conversion?”

“Not complete. But enough,” Andy says. Miss Forester smiles and nods in approval.

“But we still don’t know what his big secret was, now do we?” Crys says again. It’s more a statement than a question.

“No, we don’t. But it hardly matters, does it?” Miss Forester returns.

“I’d say so, yeah. It’s what started this whole mess, don’t you think we’ve got a right to know?”

“I doubt it concerns us. I think we should leave well enough alone.”

“Alright, you probably know best, Laurelin. But I’m none too pleased about trusting that jerk.”

“Well,” Andy interjects, “he wasn’t too keen on trusting Miss Forester here, now was he?”

“Andy, please call me Laurelin.”

Crys laughs. “Same old refrain, huh Miss Forester?” she asks teasingly.

Andy smiles but isn’t quite as amused as Crys is. She’s not taking to this information as he’d hoped. Beth is. Beth, while quiet, is being very supportive of Laurelin.

“Always,” she says with a smile.

“Well come on, girl, mount up and come help me teach this ugly bag of mostly water a thing or two about trottin’ poles!”

Laurelin laughs, although there’s still a note of sadness in her laughter, and stands up.

“Come on, Beth,” she says, “Let’s give Crystal a run for her money.”

The two walk to the barn. Andy follows to help tack up the horses.

“Hey Andy.” Crystal calls after him.

“Yeah, Crys?”

“I don’t think Laurel needs so much of your help no more.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I think she needs you instead.”

Andy looks down at the ground with a grin, then quickly back up at Crys. “You a matchmaker now? I thought all men were pigs, anyway.”

“Aww, you aint no man,” Crys teases.

“Thanks, Crys, now I’m raring to go a-courtin’ the boss.”

But Crys isn’t teasing anymore. “You just keep it in mind now, you hear?”

Andy laughs. “I hear, I just don’t listen!”

Crys laughs and shakes her head and rides off. Andy smiles and walks off to the barn. Laurelin? Beth’s closer to his age. She’s nearly ten years his senior! Of course, she sure doesn’t look it...

Laurelin laughs as she nudges Poster into the creek. He’s being a typical green horse, but at least he’s got some courage. After half an hour of encouraging and prompting, poking and prodding, she has finally gotten Poster’s front hooves into three inches of standing water.

“You baby!” she says affectionately as he snuffs loudly before backing quickly out of the water again. She decides to call it a day on a successful note. But instead of going straight home, she wants to go the long way around, along the creek trail. She’s on her own and it’s been a while since she’s had this kind of time. Poster proves equal to the challenge and sets of boldly down the scary trail full of shadows and horse-eating tree stumps. But Laurelin is having too much fun to be annoyed. Besides, he’s green; he has an excuse.

“Not for much longer, you don’t, Poster Child,” she says. He’s nearly four years old, it’s time he started acting like he’s seen water and shadows before.

Laurelin wants to take him to his first event this coming fall, and his owners are all for it. It’s about time their investment started paying off. Besides, they’ve been telling their rich cronies about this wonderful horse they have and the novelty of his very existence has worn off, it’s time for him to be doing something more spectacular. Poster takes a five-foot leap over a six-inch log on the ground he can’t navigate his way around. Laurelin takes it in stride but checks him afterwards to keep him calm.

The day is really far too hot to be riding. It’s midsummer and the flies are absolutely swarming. But that’s never stopped Laurelin before. She’s always ridden come rain or shine, as long as it was safe for the horses. Today is no exception. Poster’s a thoroughbred with the thin coat and hot blood to deal; the heat’s no danger to him yet. If he had the sense to let Laurelin take him in the water, he’d have even less to worry about. But one step at a time.