Tucker’s jaw tightened. Grimly, he said, “I know one way of alerting a few million people to her existence and abilities. I’ll write a book about her.”

Brodie smiled. “Already thinking like a soldier, I see. Good. Just don’t mention our nutty conspiracy theory, okay? Not until we’re ready to go public.”

“No problem.”

“In the meantime, we’ll work up a plan of where and how best to…position her.”

“She’s going to hate this,” Tucker said.

Brodie nodded sympathetically. “Most of them do, at first. The instinct is to hide, to pretend not to have dangerous abilities, certainly not to stand in a spotlight. But it’s the only way. As far as Sarah’s concerned, I think she’ll find out she’s more of a fighter than she ever suspected. I think she already has.”

“I think you’re right,” Tucker said.

“I nearly decked him when he spoke to me suddenly out of the dark,” Tucker said much later as he and Sarah lay in bed together catching up. “But since he had the goggles and I couldn’t see a damned thing, he was able to dodge me until he could convince me he wasn’t one of them.”

Sarah didn’t ask how Brodie had managed to do that. “I was very glad to see the two of you appear behind Varden, I can tell you that. He wasn’t behaving as I’d expected. Most people have the sense to try to escape a burning building—especially if they believe there’s only one way out.”

Tucker’s arms tightened around her. “He was too obsessed with getting his hands on you.”

“And unless Duran was lying in that message to us, it probably got Varden killed.”

“Brodie said he was pretty sure Duran had been running the show, at least as far as the lake, because he saw him there. But somewhere between there and Portland, whether in a setup Duran planned or on his own, Varden must have set his plans in motion.”

“And grabbed you.” Sarah moved a bit closer.

“I had no idea they could get inside my mind like that. I didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Tucker. Um…you do realize, don’t you, that we sort of have a thing between us?”

“A thing? Well, I guess that’s one word for it.”

“I’m serious. This connection.”

“Yes, I noticed it.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Don’t you know?”

“Dammit, I’m trying to be courteous and not pry into your thoughts.”

He chuckled. “I appreciate the effort.”

“Well?”

“No, it doesn’t bother me. You don’t believe that yet, of course, but you will. Eventually.”

She lifted her head from his shoulder to stare at him. “Brodie told you some of the stuff I’ve been doing the last day or so, right?”

“He did.”

“And none of that bothers you? Not the telepathy, or the out-of-body thing, or the lockpick I was able to send to you?”

“No. Although I’d like to try the out-of-body thing when I’m not drugged. Brodie said the consensus seems to be that you can only do it through our connection—to wander around where I am if we’re separated, or wander around near your own body.”

She eyed him in fascination. “That was the consensus, yes. Because I tried to go somewhere on my own and couldn’t. I had to—to use you as a doorway.”

“We’ll have to experiment.”

“Tucker, this really doesn’t bother you?”

“Well, no. I love you, you know. That would probably account for it.”

Slowly, she began to smile. “This is very sudden.”

“Yes, it was. At first sight, I think.”

“You know I love you too.”

“This connection is a wonderful thing.”

“I guess we’ll never be able to say we don’t understand each other, huh?”

“Not with a straight face.”

Sarah’s smile widened as he pulled her over on top of him. “It’s going to be interesting, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tucker said. “That’s one word for it.”

The plan to leave for Richmond in the morning was delayed somewhat when Sarah announced at breakfast that they had to go to Holcomb first.

Tucker had more or less forgotten about that, so he was surprised. And since Sarah was staying very quiet and still on her side of their connection, he had no idea why it was so important to her.

Brodie was distinctly unhappy.

“What’s in Holcomb?” he demanded.

Vaguely, Sarah said, “Something I have to do. It won’t take long. And it’s important, Brodie.”

“We’ve been heading toward Holcomb since we left Richmond,” Tucker said, and shrugged when Brodie frowned at him. “It was always her goal.”

“Have you two checked out the weather? It’s getting very cold out there, and it looks like we may be in for early snow. Heading farther north, even for a little while, is probably not a good idea.”

“It’s important,” Sarah repeated.

That was all Brodie could get out of her, and since Tucker would only shrug and smile, he was no help at all. Finally giving in, Brodie consulted briefly with Murphy and Nick, and the group split into two, with the Jeeps heading in different directions.

Brodie had been right about the weather. It was extremely cold for the second day of October, and they ran into some snow flurries as well as a bit of sleet. But the drive to Holcomb was fairly short, and when Brodie parked the Jeep in a one-hour parking place on Main Street, the worst of the weather was still holding off.

“Now what?” he asked Sarah.

“Do you mind waiting here? This is something Tucker and I have to do.”

Brodie frowned, but even the most suspicious glance around this extremely small and peaceful town could discern no threat whatsoever; it was a postcard-perfect image of small-town America.

“Don’t be long,” he requested.

Sarah led the way, walking beside Tucker along the sidewalk toward the edge of town.

“Where are we going?” he finally asked her. They were walking up a slight hill, and the only thing he could see in this direction was a pretty little church at the top of the hill. “If you mean to make an honest man out of me, I think we need blood tests and a license first.”

“Not much farther.”

“Sarah, why is it that you have to be here?”

She didn’t answer until they stood before the small church. Then she stopped and looked up at him gravely. “We didn’t come here for me, Tucker. We came for you.”

Even then, he didn’t understand. Not until she took his hand and led him around the church and into the neat graveyard behind it.

Then he understood.

He almost turned around and retreated then. But she did know him better than he knew himself, because Sarah never hesitated. She led him through the graveyard to the very back, where a big oak tree stood bare-limbed in the cold October air.

There were two headstones placed where they would be shaded in the summer. Side by side. One was the standard size for a headstone. The other one was…very small.

Sarah had been right. Here was where something had ended.

She left him there by the graves, slipping away silently so he could be alone to say his good-byes to Lydia.

And the son she had named after him.

Sarah stood on the sidewalk in front of the church and looked vaguely down on the small town of Holcomb. It was still early, but the town was awake, people moving along the sidewalks, in and out of stores and the small café and the bank.

She wasn’t really aware of time passing but thought it was probably at least an hour later when Tucker came up behind her. He slipped his arms around her, and she relaxed back against him.

“All right?” she asked.

“Yes. Finally.” His cheek rubbed against her hair. “Thank you.”

She felt his inner sense of peace, the relief of a burden long carried finally lifted from him, so Sarah didn’t have to ask anything more. Instead, looking down on the town, she said, “Look at them. Going about their business as if nothing has changed. As if nothing is different.”