I see, she snapped. Well then, I'll just forget the whole thing.

Madeline started to stand up, but Nola's hand smacked down on her forearm.

I'm interested in anything you got, hon, Nola said. Lay it on us.

Now it was Kat's turn to flash her eyes at Nola.

Madeline cleared her throat. Well. I'll start by asking you something, and it's only because I don't want to see you hurt.

Kat nodded. OK.

Did Riley mention to you that he was engaged to be married?

Both women stopped breathing. Madeline waited for several seconds before it became clear that no one was going to answer.

A Christmas Eve ceremony is planned. It's very hush-hush right now, but I can tell you that there is a woman who fully expects to be Mrs. Riley Bohland in less than three months. I just thought you should know. I didn't want you to get your hopes up.

Kat stood abruptly, her chair making a spine-tingling scrape against the wood floor. She ran out of the room and down the hallway, the sound of her thumping up the steps echoing through the downstairs.

Nola briefly glared at Madeline, then got up without a word.

A half hour later Nola and Kat checked out. Kat's hair was still wet and her hands trembled as she signed the bill. Madeline pulled aside the curtain in the front bay window in time to see Nola flatten the sedum blossoms in her haste to back out of the parking lot.

Madeline sighed deeply and shut her eyes for a moment. She reassured herselfyet againthat not a single thing she'd told Kat Cavanaugh was a lie. Not technically, anyway. And she could be proud of that.

Virgil was tired of lying around on his back like a dead fish. The hospital room smelled like day-old cabbage, and none of the nurses were attractive enough to serve as a distraction. He wanted to rip the damn tubes out of his veins, get the hell out of there, and get to his studio. For the first time in years, his hands were itching to do real work, substantial work. Funny how the rest of his body had chosen this particular time to break down.

He tried to get comfortable by turning on his left side, which didn't work because the hospital bed was as snug as a slab of marble. He tried to remember the last time he'd spent the night anywhere other than his own bed. It wasn't when BettyAnn was sick. That he knew. Even at the end, when everyone knew she was dying, he'd get in the car and go home at night. That meant it had to have been all the way back in his New York days, when it wasn't uncommon for him to spend his evenings in an acid-induced fog looking for trouble and women, which, now that he thought about it, was redundant.

Virgil grunted, pulling at an IV line that he'd somehow managed to twist around his butt. Life was strange. One bad acid trip and he ended up taking a temporary teaching post at a no-name college in Appalachia. He only wanted to lie low until the police stopped nosing around. It wasn't his fault that that girl had decided she could fly and chose his fourth-story window as her launching pad.

Virgil coughed. His chest was sore.

As fate would have it, he met BettyAnn his first week in Persuasiona pretty, soft-spoken girl with a big problem and not a lick of sense. It didn't take him long to see that just paying attention to her made her follow him around like a puppy. She'd worshipped him. And why not? He was a sophisticated visiting art instructor, older than her and famous by Persuasion's standardsone of his sculptures had been featured in /Life/ magazine! BettyAnn was so grateful he'd married her that she did everything he told her to. She was a good girl. Sure, they'd had their rough patches, but it had been a marriage that workedshe got what she needed and he got what he wanted, which was something most people couldn't say about their blessed unions.

Virgil was just about to buzz for the nurse when the esteemed Dr.

Bohland strolled through the doorway. Virgil studied him, noting how much he'd aged in the year since he'd cared for BettyAnn.

Good morning, Virgil.

Nothin' good about it.

As his doctor flipped through his chart, Virgil decided that Riley Bohland had grown into a refined version of his daddy, with more smarts and less brawn. It was the younger Bohland kid who'd turned out to be a carbon copy of Aidana charming good ole boy who thought his last name gave him the right to tell people what to do with their lives.

Has the cardiologist seen you?

Of course not. I was simply thrown in here and left to rot. You people just want me for my insurance money.

Riley clipped the chart back to the foot of the bed and sighed. Maybe we just enjoy the pleasure of your company.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. Riley had a silly grin on his face. It had something to do with Kat; he could smell it. He sometimes wondered what would have happened with Kat and Riley if she hadn't run away. Probably nothing good.

Did you know Kat was coming to town?

Riley flinched ever so slightly at the question, then put the stethoscope in his ears and leaned close to Virgil. Nope. Please hold still for a moment.

It felt like an eternity, but Virgil did what he was told, waiting patiently as Riley pressed the cold metal disc onto his skin and asked him to take a deep breath.

Anything? Virgil asked.

I'm definitely hearing some irregularities. Dr. Zhou will be in to see you shortly, and you'll be in excellent hands.

Virgil grunted. He sounds like another damn foreigner.

She's originally from China.

A woman /and/ a foreigner? Jesus! I've hit the jackpot.

She trained at WVU, same as me.

Peking, Persuasionit's all the same nowadays, anyway, right? Virgil tried to adjust the pillows behind his back so he could sit more comfortably. This hospital looks like it's run by the UN. My nurse is from the Philippines. You must be the last American doctor in this state.

Riley smiled slightly at that. Not hardly. I'll be back to see you this evening.

Hold on a damn minute.

Riley turned, not bothering to hide the fact that this conversation apparently required every bit of patience he possessed.

I never liked your family much, Bohland.

Riley shoved his hands in the pockets in his chinos and said nothing.

But you were a good doctor to BettyAnn and I want to thank you for that.

Riley looked shocked. You're welcome.

She always said good things about you. She liked you for some reason.

I'm glad.

Now, I never got around to asking you this, but what was it my wife said before she died, when she shooed me out of the room that day? Was it a medical question?

Riley frowned. I'm afraid I can't say, Virgil.

His face went hot with anger. Why the hell not? There were no secrets between us. I'm sure she'd want me to know.

Riley shifted uncomfortably. She asked that I not share it with you.

He shot up in bed so fast that an electrode popped off his neck. Liar!

His vision began to swim. My wife never kept anything from me! Never!

Calm down, Virgil.

A wall of pain slammed into his chest. His lungs caught fire. It's happening again, he gasped. Get the Chinese woman. Quick.

It happened on a Saturday morning when Kat was thirteen, in mid-May. The big lilac bush outside her bedroom window had blossomed. Lush, fluffy purple cones and dark green leaves blocked her view of the side yard and the broken split-rail fence that separated their property from Mrs.

Estes'. Because it was warm enough to sleep with the window open, Kat had woken up that particular morning with her senses filled with the deep, sugary sweetness of lilacsand the familiar sound of her mother being beaten.

Kat pulled the covers over her head and shook. Would this be a short one, or a long one? Should she shut her window so Mrs. Estes didn't hear? Exactly where in the house were they fighting? The hallway? Would she be able to run out the back door without them noticing? Would there be drops of blood on the wood floor? She hated cleaning up blood. She closed her eyes, clasped her hands together so hard it hurt, then bowed her head under her blankets. /Please, God, no blood today. That's all I ask./ She knew what would come next. On Monday, Kat's mom would have to tell the school that Kat had the flu, so she could stay home for a few days to put ice and Band-Aids on her mom's face and make sure she had aspirin. Kat hated that.