Hobie, who had lived on the island long enough to know better, never discounted anyone’s beliefs. She was an islander, and islanders had seen the strange and the impossible occur on Ana Lia. If Mrs. Emberly said she talked to the dead, then by gosh, that’s what her neighbors believed. Everything had its limits, of course, and that included Hobie’s gullibility.

Laura and Hobie chanced another glance at each other. They silently negotiated who would ask the inevitable question. Hobie could see that she had lost the coin toss.

“Return?” is all Hobie risked asking.

“Of course. You do think there’s a chance, don’t you?” The old woman looked so pitiful that Hobie and Laura instantly felt guilty over their desire to call the welcome wagon driven by the men in white coats.

“Well...” Hobie drew out the word, praying that some words of comfort and wisdom would come to her.

“Oh, I know what you doctors are trained to say, Hobie Lynn. Never give false hope. I understand, dear. That’s why I thought I’d ask if you would mind if I put one of these fliers in your office window. In case anyone sees the poor dear just wandering around.”

“Fliers?” Laura took the piece of paper. Hobie could see that her friend was going to burst into laughter at any moment. “In case Petey...comes back?” Laura asked in disbelief.

“Why, yes, dear. This is how it’s done, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, Hobie had a strange feeling. As if something was right in front of her, but she had been missing it the whole time. It hit her between the eyes just as Laura opened her mouth.

“Actually, Mrs. Emberly—” Laura began.

“Mrs. Emberly, when you say you lost Petey, do you mean that he wandered away?”

“Of course, dear. Whatever did you think I meant?” “Well, we thought—” Laura started.

“Exactly the same thing!” Hobie interjected. “We’d be happy to put this out front, and I’ll keep my eyes open when I go out on house calls.”

The old woman closed the door seconds before Hobie and Laura burst into laughter. “Oh, my God,” Laura spoke through her laughter. “I thought she meant—”

“Me too!” Hobie laughed. “I got a flash of Petey returning from the dead like something in a bad horror flick.”

The old-fashioned bell above the door jingled as the first patients of the day entered the office. “Enough fun for one morning, let’s get to it,” Hobie said.

“You got it, boss. Hey, remember, it’s your turn to go get lunch at the Cove today.”

Hobie winked at her friend and the two started their workday.

BJ placed the paper sack of groceries in the backseat of the open convertible. She felt like she was in a time warp. The narrow main street, along with the rest of downtown Ana Lia, was a nearly exact replica of the fictional town of Mayberry. The one and only stoplight threw her, though. She looked down the street and saw two or three cars quite a distance away, slowly making their way down the crisscrossing and complicated pattern of streets.

“The founding fathers obviously didn’t know what a right angle was,” BJ grumbled to herself.

Amoment later, she lifted her head to a tantalizing odor in the air. She spied the bakery across the street.

Preparing to cross the street, BJ looked up at the sign that glared accusingly down at her. She was fifteen feet or so from the intersection and the sign reminded her that there was no jaywalking or crossing against the light. “Are they kidding?” She looked down the deserted street. “I haven’t seen a sign like that since I was in the third grade.”

BJ shook her head as she stepped off the curb. “Yeah, right,” she said to the sign.

Hobie pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose one more time as she steered the old pickup with her other hand. She downshifted as she approached the turn onto Main Street. Her mind roamed and she wondered if she had told JoJo at the diner to double her order of fries.

After a quick glance at the green right-turn arrow, Hobie turned the wheel. Once more, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. The sunlight blinded her for a split second and she blinked. At the sight of someone in the middle of the street, she brought both feet down hard on the brake.

Hobie felt that all action suddenly shifted into an odd mix of real time and slow motion, like a moviemaker’s special effect. She heard the squeal of her brakes as the truck’s tires worked hard to grab at the dry pavement. Thinking about it later, she decided that what she saw in the middle of that street was the product of a libido too long denied. In one instant, Hobie knew that whatever happened after that moment would set the tone for the rest of her life. She had no idea how or why she knew, only that it was a certainty.

A dark head snapped around and flashed startled gray eyes toward the oncoming truck. The glare of the sunlight reflected neatly off Hobie’s glasses, nearly blinding BJ.

The battered white pickup screeched to a halt scant inches before making contact with BJ, which wouldn’t have been a bad thing if Hobie had her foot on the clutch. However, she still had both feet on the brake, and when the truck stalled, it jerked forward, hitting BJ in the hip.

“Oh, my God!” Hobie cried out as she set the brake and jumped from the vehicle. “Oh, my God!” she repeated when she looked down at BJ Warren’s unconscious body.

George and Maggie, the owners of the local grocery, were the first to hear the commotion. They stood on the sidewalk outside their store, unsure of what to do.

“Call Mack!” Hobie shouted to the couple. George disappeared inside the store at once.

“God, please,” Hobie begged. “Please do not let me have killed her.” She kneeled beside BJ and located a strong pulse in her carotid artery. BJ’s right leg lay folded underneath her body. Hobie immediately diagnosed the break by glancing at the odd angle of the ankle.

“I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it! Is there someone out to get me in life?” Hobie cried out. She could already hear Mack’s siren.

In the meantime, Maggie came over and reassuringly stroked Hobie’s back. “It’s okay, Hobie Lynn. It wasn’t your fault. She was crossing against the light. Mainlanders...they never learn.”

Hobie nodded at the compassionate words. Maggie had no way of knowing that Hobie already knew the stranger. Neither did the grocer have any idea what was going through Hobie’s mind at that moment.

This figures. The only woman I’ve been attracted to in the last ten years and I go and run her over. God, I have a feeling this is going to be a very long day.

Hobie meticulously scrubbed her hands. She lost herself to her thoughts as she squeezed more Betadine soap into her palm. She added items to the to-do list in her head. She didn’t want to call her insurance agent...again. Her auto insurance premiums had increased three times in two years, and adding this incident certainly wouldn’t help.

She knew that she had the right of way, but considering that she and the woman lying in the next room had sort of a past, she would offer to pay for any expenses. Hobie hated dipping into the trust fund her father had set up for her, but she hadn’t touched it since paying off her student loans, so she figured she was entitled.

“We’re ready for you, Doctor,” Cheryl said.

Hobie jumped at the sound. She really had to calm down. “I’ll be right in.” Doc Elston wouldn’t have asked her to step in and set BJ’s leg if it hadn’t been a clean break and easily reduced. Hobie smiled, thinking that the doc didn’t want to cut short his vacation. It was a textbook procedure and there was a part of her that always enjoyed this aspect of medicine, stepping in to help someone.

Her brow furrowed as she wondered how she would explain to BJ exactly what happened. Her stomach twisted into an even tighter knot as she thought of who BJ was. How could she be Evelyn’s granddaughter? God, how could you do this to me?

The butterflies started another aerial attack in her stomach as Hobie entered the small surgery area of her office and saw BJ’s unconscious form lying on a table. She had given her an injection, and BJ had fallen asleep almost immediately.

Hobie’s hands uncharacteristically shook. She thought again of what had gone on in Chicago and how she would introduce herself to BJ when she awoke. She shook her head to dispel the negative energy. That was all it took to bring her focus back to the situation before her. She took a deep breath and began.

“I’m all finished here...Is she coming out of it yet?...Okay, don’t rush her...Lor, let me see that x-ray one more time...be careful of that hip...no, but she has a pretty nasty bruise there...”

BJ heard the soft voice of the woman from the hotel. Who is she talking to, and why are there other people in the hotel room with us? I remember that spicy, subtle scent of her perfume... God, how good she felt in my arms.

The perfume disappeared as a harsh antiseptic odor took its place. Where in the hell am I? An older, feminine-sounding voice replaced the gentle one in BJ’s mind.

“Baylor? Baylor? Wake up for us now.”

“Don’t call me Baylor,” BJ rasped, then coughed.

“Here, hon. Take a sip.” BJ felt a straw placed between her lips and she drank the cool liquid greedily.

“Not too much, Cheryl. Let’s make sure she’s back from Never Never Land first,” Hobie whispered over Cheryl’s shoulder. “Try calling her BJ.”

“BJ, open your eyes,” Cheryl instructed.

BJ did as she was told, mainly to find out what kind of dream she was having. As soon as she did, she was sorry. It was as if light and her ability to feel pain were connected. The day’s events came rushing into her conscious mind as quickly as the pain registered with her brain.