"I hurt your feelings."

"That's my fault," Isabel said. "I shouldn't have left them out there to be hurt." She reached into the picnic basket for the small paper garbage bag she had brought and started cleaning the table.

"Isabel," Jesse said.

"What?" she asked, concentrating on cleaning the table.

"Talk to me."

"I am."

"I said I was sorry."

Isabel nodded. "And I said there was no reason to be."

"This… this situation isn't easy on either of us."

"I know." Isabel put the silverware in an empty plastic container she'd brought for that purpose. Maybe they had to sneak around through Roswell and didn't dare eat in any of the restaurants because they might get caught, but she hadn't wanted to use plastic silverware. She'd bought a handful of her own and kept them separate from the rest in the Evanses' household, part of this other secret life she had from her parents.

Jesse fell silent.

Isabel stopped cleaning and looked at him. "What do you want?"

"For people to know we're together."

"Jesse," Isabel said, "we don't even know if we're together."

"I'm too old for a summer fling," Jesse said. "I gave those up before law school."

For a moment, Isabel felt angry. Then she squelched the emotion. Jesse was trying to be honest, just trying to let her know what was on his mind.

"I," Isabel said distinctly, "have never been interested in summer flings. I've never had one, and I never will."

Jesse spread his hands. "Then what is this?"

Isabel thought for a moment. "This, counselor," she said, "is what we call an exploratory discussion leading to discovery."

"Now you manifest a sense of humor," he grumbled.

A large RV whipped by out on U.S. 285. The sound faded in the distance. High overhead, three hawks floated lazily in the thermals, each of them forming a distinct tri-corner of personal hunting territory.

"I've always had a sense of humor," Isabel said.

Jesse started to say something, then obviously decided not to.

"Wise choice, counselor," Isabel said.

Jesse looked at her earnestly. "This is scary for me. I've never been in this deep before."

"You make it sound like you're drowning."

"No," Jesse said. He shook his head and captured her hands in his. "It's just that I didn't expect somebody like you. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever. While I was in law school, keeping the grades up while working was hard, maybe the hardest thing I'd ever done. I kept my feelings walled up, put out of reach of anyone who came along."

"There were others who came along?" Isabel asked.

"Plead the Fifth," Jesse said.

"Good," Isabel said, "because I don't want to know." She paused and took a breath. "I've never been this far before either. Never this far, and I've never gotten involved in anything so big so fast. Christmas is my favorite time of the year, and I always plan that out. I plan out everything that I do."

"But I wasn't in the plans," Jesse said.

"No," Isabel said.

"And your future plans?"

"I'm still working out Christmas."

Jesse laughed. "In June?"

"Christmas is huge. It's supposed to be wonderful and exciting. I do everything I can to make it that way, including a lot of volunteer work for the city. I've been doing that for years."

"But you haven't made any plans for us?"

Isabel gripped his hand with both of hers. "Plans like that are better planned by two people. Right now, I'm just working on still seeing you without my parents knowing. The possibility of getting caught also exists."

"What do you think your dad would do?" Jesse asked.

Isabel smiled. "Hmmm. I'm clerking in his office and secretly dating his newest young lawyer. I'm thinking a straight-out dismissal for you, and maybe ten years of hard grounding for me."

"Because of the age difference?"

"Because I didn't come forward and tell my parents," Isabel replied. Actually, it would have probably been better to leave the planet than to tell my parents. "And because I'm interfering with the performance of my dad's newest hotshot attorney."

"I haven't missed a day in court, though," Jesse said. He glanced at his watch. "And speaking of days in court, I'm due back for a deposition in a little while."

Isabel allowed Jesse to help finish cleaning up, but that help consisted mostly of him just jamming everything back into the picnic basket. She assigned him the duty of shaking out and folding the tablecloth. While he was occupied with that, she reorganized the contents of the picnic basket.

Jesse caught her at it and gave her another long look. He raised an eyebrow. "You know, I thought we were into that whole Yogi Bear and Boo-Boo thing. Didn't know neatness counted."

"Neatness," she said, lifting the picnic basket with a little embarrassment. "It's not an option. It's a way of life."

Jesse nodded. "I'll try to remember that." He walked around the table and took the picnic basket from her hand. "I'll carry this."

"It was heavier when it was full," Isabel pointed out. She'd gotten out of her father's offices before Jesse had. By the time Jesse had arrived at the rest stop, she'd already had the meal laid out.

Without a word Jesse leaned down and kissed Isabel. She felt his lips on hers, then the familiar excited tingle thrilled through her. Maybe the sensation wasn't like the near-hallucinogenic experiences Max talked about having with Liz, and there were no explosions of her past life revealed, but the kiss was nothing short of wonderful.

Slowly, tenderly, Jesse pulled back. "Am I going to be able to see you tonight?"

Isabel looked at him. How could she not see him? Lunch the next day was almost twenty-four hours away… an intolerable length of time. "I don't know," she answered. "Maybe. Thinking of things we're suddenly out of at home is getting almost impossible."

"I'll try to help you think of a good excuse," Jesse offered, taking her by the elbow and guiding her back to the parked cars. "If I do, I'll e-mail you."

Before Isabel could reply, tires suddenly squalled out on the highway. She looked up, watching as a black van suddenly veered from the highway and barreled into the rest stop. They were trapped out in the open, twenty feet from their cars or from anything they could take shelter behind.

The careening van came closer, bearing down on them like a blood-maddened predator.

"The legend was handed down to our people throughout the generations. None of the shamans who told the story knew for certain what the legend was about. But in the end, after the crash of the spaceship that brought you to our world, the shaman who trained me decided that the Visitors could cause the return of our ancestors from the ghostlands."

Max walked at River Dogs side as they approached the Mesaliko village. "Had the Mesaliko people seen"… even after everything he'd seen, Max still hesitated over the term… "had they ever seen ghosts of their ancestors before?"

River Dog had told him that several people in the tribe over the past few days had begun having visions of dead family members. At first, those visions had been elusory, vaguely glimpsed shadows that could have been a trick of the light. But none of them had manifested physically as River Dog's ancestor had.

"In those long-ago days," River Dog said, nodding, "they saw the ghosts."

"What did they do to make them go away?"

"At first," the shaman said, "they didn't. My people picked up and moved from these hills. After a time, when hunting grew scarce and life turned hard in the areas they'd traveled to, my people sent scouts back into the area. The ghosts were gone, and people moved back into the territory."

"Why were the ghosts gone?" Max asked.