"Your mom told me about the car crash and...your sister," Matt spoke after a lengthy silence between them.

Clydie stiffened. She did not want to talk about Sam.

"I'm really sorry that happened. I know losing someone sucks," he said to her, casting her a sympathetic look.

She couldn't help but turn her face away from him, looking toward a hazy point of land jutting out into the sea. She would not talk about her loss, nor her pain, with a boy she'd only just met.

"I also know that sometimes it helps to go out and have some fun, just to get your mind off things," Matt went on.

"Fun?" she repeated the word, keeping her gaze on that far away point and just beginning to make out the shape of a lighthouse.

Fun. She'd forgotten what that was even like, having fun. It just didn't seem possible for her at that point.

"Well, yeah. But, by fun I mean going to look at cheesy scarecrows and eating bad funnel cake in the town square."

Clydie looked back to Matt Tanner then, a denial ready to spill from her lips.

"Come on, Clydie. It won't be so bad," Matt cajoled. "I mean, it'll be really lame and boring, but its better than sitting all by yourself and wallowing in misery."

But, she'd gotten so used to the wallowing, she didn't really mind it anymore.

"Come on. We can go for a little while," he continued to wheedle. "We'll keep each other company, we'll get some fresh air. And no one will have to know that we're the two most pitiful, depressed people at the Scarecrow on the Square Festival."

"What do you mean the two most depressed people?" she wondered, eyeing him and noting that he certainly looked bright and spritely for someone who was pitiful and depressed.

"I lost my mom in a car accident a few years back. And my sister died of an overdose a year and a half ago. So, trust me, I know all about...feeling miserable," Matt revealed somberly. "But, I also know that it helps to go out and do something normal once in a while. It might only help for a little while, but that's better than nothing."

Normal. She didn't even know what normal meant anymore. How could she when she was being haunted by the ghost of her dead sister? And possibly another person to boot. But, Matt Tanner's revelation did soften her up a bit towards him.

"I'm not taking no for an answer," he said firmly. "I get off work at eight sharp. You can come by the Two Points Pub and wait for me. Its only about a ten minute drive from here."

"You won't take no for an answer?" she repeated, feeling herself thawing out, despite her efforts to the contrary.

"Nope. It'll do us both good to get out there and pretend that life isn't a complete hell for a couple of hours."

It was also her mother's opinion that if she could just get out there and do something normal, all her problems might miraculously disappear. Hell, maybe she should give it a try. Nothing else had worked for her.

"Two Points Pub?" she asked, trepidation washing through her.

"Right. Its on the corner of Decatur Street, right on the edge of The Square. You can't miss it," said Matt with a wide grin.

She pulled in a deep breath of the chill, briny air, waffling for a long minute, and finding it exceedingly annoying that it was so difficult for her to make a decision about something so simple. "Alright. I'll...I'll meet you there."

"Cool!" Matt beamed. "And if you stand me up, I'll come find you and drag you out with me anyway, so you might as well not."

"I won't stand you up," she stated, hoping she wasn't lying.

She could never be sure when she might have a moment, and that would most definitely interfere with her plans. Although, having plans did fill her with some small iota of what could have been...eagerness? Though, with an added dash of fear.

They finally reached home then and turned into the property, using a warn set of wooden steps that had been built over the rocky slope to make their way up to the overgrown back garden. Seeing the worn and tattered old house rising up before her did sweep her with a measure of comfort. At least she'd managed to make it back, so she'd take that as a win.

"Your folks took that box from your room," Matt stated as they headed toward the house. "They're making sure there's nothing else in there that might upset you."

Clydie nodded, keeping her focus on picking her way through the knee high tangle of grass and weeds.

"Listen, if you ever need to talk, you can come to me. Whatever you're going through, I promise, I'll understand," Matt offered, his tone one of utter sincerity.

He had lost his mother and sister, so surely he knew the effects of loss and grief, but...if those people had stayed dead, then there was no possible way he could truly understand. Nor would she want him to.

*  *  *  *  *  *

The town of Cedar Cove was one of those small, quaint coastal towns that could have served as the backdrop for an artsy movie or an ad for a fancy vacation getaway.  It was the type of town with clean streets and iron lamp posts and neighbors who'd known each other for generations. And the town square was as charming and obligatory as it could get, with a massive bronze statue of the town founder sat in the center, his unseeing gaze turned toward the sea. And all around the effigy of that long dead soul were placed all the most important shops, each housed in clapboard buildings that were done up in bright colors that stood out against the dark evergreens and the grey of the harbour and sky.

Clydie had asked her mom to drive her into town and drop her in The Square because she didn't like to drive unless she had to. Having a moment when she was behind the wheel might get some innocent person killed and she did want to be responsible for the kind of devastation that might cause a family.

She'd wrestled with herself for a bit before finally deciding that she wouldn't stand Matt up, after all. Her parents had both been somewhat overly enthusiastic about her plans for the evening and that had helped to cement, as well as force, her decision. It was obvious that Frank and Ella wanted the house to themselves for a while and she didn't want to stand in the way of their time together. So, she had exited the house, assuring Ella that she could find her own way back.

She hadn't thought she would enjoy being out in the world, but once she was walking along the sidewalks with the throngs of people, all waiting for the cordoned off Square to be opened up to them, she found it was rather nice. In the very least, it was better than sitting in her dingy, sticky room, moping...and trying to fight the urge to go to her window every few minutes to look out at the evergreen trees, in search of...her.

The night air was crisp and brisk and scented with the heady aromas from all the food stands scattered about, which did tickle the nose and stir the appetite. The old fashioned storefronts were all lighted up, displaying the wares in their front windows to all the passersby, their doors standing wide open by way of enticing folks to enter. And strung over the entire Square were strings of twinkling white lights. There were thousands of those lights, so many that The Square was nearly as bright as day.

All given, the entire scene was lovely and the energy was vibrant and she took it all into herself, really feeling it, really feeling the...freedom...that came with being away from the watchful eyes of her parents. It was a tad scary, on one hand, because she didn't typically stray too far from that safety net, but since she had, she meant to try and sink into it.

She was out of the house. She was on her own. Her parents were finally free of the burden of her for a while. She was on her way to meet a friend, for all intents and purposes. She was just doing...what a normal person would do. And it did feel quite normal. So normal, in fact, that it was a little jarring, reminding her that she couldn't allow herself to get too comfortable. Things could go to hell really fast, so she needed to stay on her toes.

That in mind, she headed toward the sign across The Square announcing that the Two Points Pub resided in the brick building beneath. A good number of festival goers were obviously passing time waiting for things to start by grabbing a drink in the pub, so the foot traffic in and out was on the heavy side.

She'd never been inside a pub before and she fully expected to be stopped at the door, asked for her I.D. and then promptly tossed out. That didn't happen, though. She walked straight into the space, unhindered, and glanced around, finding it dimly lighted and filled to the brim with people sitting at all the shiny tables and booths. There was a massive two sided fireplace off to the left and beyond that, a couple of pool tables and several more booths. The bar was straight ahead, at the very back of the room and it looked like...well, a bar was supposed to look, she figured.

Taking in the bar, her gaze quickly found Matt, who was buzzing about as he worked to keep up with the small crush of people. Almost as soon as she found him, he glanced up and locked eyes with her, finding her so quickly and through the crowd that she knew he'd been waiting to see her.

Finding her there, Matt smiled and lifted a hand in fervent a wave. He seemed so genuinely happy that she'd come, she found herself smiling and waving back. And then she was struck by a strange moment during which she found herself trying to recall the last time she had actually, genuinely smiled. It had been so long...she honestly couldn't remember.

Matt gave her a hand signal letting her know that he'd be off in ten minutes and she responded with a thumbs up and began looking about for a seat that would allow her to stay out of the way for a few minutes.

As she scanned the space that was flickering with firelight and rife with voices and laughter, she spotted a figure sitting at the end of the bar that caused a jolt to course through her. It was the man from the beach, the self-proclaimed neighbor, and he looked even more ruggedly handsome than he had earlier in the day as he sat there, in the shadows, a drink in front of him, his features set and unreadable.

He glanced up at almost the exact instant that she looked at him, meeting her gaze and sending another sharp jolt through her. He lifted a ruddy brow, his surprise at finding her there evident. And the next second, Clydie spun on her heel and walked toward the double sided fireplace, wanting to see if there might be an empty seat on the other side.

By luck, she found a small, two person table in the far back corner, past the pool tables, which were taken up by a few rather boisterous groups at the moment. Had there been any other choice, she would not have picked that table. She hated overly loud, overly rowdy people, but the only other option was to stand in the middle of the floor like an awkward rube, waiting for Matt to get off work, so she gritted her teeth and started forward. Wending her way past the pool tables and the booths and over to the corner, which was thankfully cloaked in shadows, she dropped down into a chair, trying to shrink back against the wall and basically disappear.

She hadn't been in such close confines with other people in a very long time and a part of her was worried that her little issue might rear its ugly head and she did not want to make a fool of herself in front of dozens and dozens of strangers..

Just as she was considering getting up and bolting toward the door, away from the loud people and the loud crack of the pool balls striking one another...she caught sight of a tall, ruddy haired, ruggedly handsome man making his way through the clusters of people.

Seeing him...heading straight toward her...sent her stomach lurching up into her throat. It had been several hours since she'd left him on the beach and during those hours, she'd caught herself thinking about him, about his hard grey eyes and cowboy accent. Of course, she was slightly embarrassed by the fact that she was thinking about a complete stranger who'd erred on the side of foreboding and one who, not to mention, was a decade or more older than her. It felt kind of...weird. But, her mind didn't seem to care about either point of contention because she couldn't seem to get him out of there.

"So, we meet again," the man said as he approached her table, a slight lift to the corner of his mouth. "And you're in better spirits this time, I see."

Hearing that deep drawl again was enough to catch her breath, which forced her cheeks to flush with heat. "I-I'm doing better, thank you," she replied, the words sounding stiff and awkward as she forced them out.

She figured he'd approached her to take back the sweater she'd walked off the beach with and she felt the heat in her cheeks increase to an uncomfortable level. For some inexplicable reason, she'd decided to wear that sweater out and to be caught with it on was just a touch humiliating.

"I...I, uh, forgot to give your sweater back. I'm sorry," she said, beginning to shrug out of the thing that smelled like him.

"Eh, don't worry about it. It looks good on you, so you should keep it," the man told her, allowing his gaze to rake over her.

"Oh, I can't do that. I mean, its yours---"

"And now its yours," he easily replied.

She stalled for a second, wondering if the man had some sort of issue with other people touching his clothing and maybe that was why he was willing to give up a perfectly good sweater.

"So, what are you doing hanging out in a pub? You can't be old enough to drink?" he wondered, his grey eyes narrowing, but there was nothing in his deep, gritty voice that caused her to take offense.

"I'm just waiting for my friend to get off work," she answered, refraining from commenting on her age. It was frankly none of his concern. She already had a perfectly fine and working set of parents.  She wasn't looking to take on outsiders.

Without her asking for his company, he moved around and dropped down across the table from her, keeping his large eyes pinned on her, which made her want to squirm in her seat. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I'm Julian Donovan," he stated.

"Clydie Weston," she returned, forgoing giving him the customary polite smile because she wasn't in the mood.

Julian Donovan took a few seconds to seemingly turn her words over in his mind. "That's a pretty name. Very old fashioned. Sounds like something I'd hear back home."

"Oh? Where's home?" she asked, wondering what sort of town or city was filled with people who'd been given out of style names.

"Texas. A little city in the middle of the desert called Santa Maria," came the riposte, which somehow made sense, given his accent. "Where are you in from?"

"Summerville, West Virginia," she told him, the crack of the pool balls making her flinch.

Catching her reaction brought one of his brows upward. "You seem a bit jumpy. Do crowds make you uneasy?"

She lifted a shoulder, glancing toward the pool tables and the men and women who seemed to be more concerned with flirting and cavorting than with actually playing pool. She wasn't uneasy with crowds, per say. She was uneasy with the thought of making a fool of herself in the middle of the crowd.

"If you're uncomfortable in here, I don't mind waiting outside with you until your friend shows up," Julian offered.

Clydie regarded the man for a minute, awash with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "That's okay. You can go back to your own friends. I'm fine."

He lifted a large shoulder, which was clothed in a faded, olive drab jacket. "I'm here alone, actually. So, we can keep each other company for a few minutes."

It didn't take long for suspicion to win out. Mr. Julian Donovan knew she wasn't even old enough to drink, so unless he had designs on being a surrogate parent to her, she had no clue what he thought he was up to. And since it wasn't typically in her nature to bite her tongue, she opened her mouth to find out for herself, but a flash of movement from the corner of her eyes caught her attention.

 Just as she turned toward it, something heavy crashed into her with enough force to double her vision. Both she and the chair she was sitting in were forcibly shoved across the floor and into the wall beside her with enough force to push a shriek up out of her. Her mind was aware of the heaviness of a body on top of her and the sound of glass shattering, but before she even had time to sort out what was happening, a deep, almost animal-like  growl split the air, and the weight that was crushing her was suddenly...gone.

As her vision abruptly cleared, she swiftly focused on Julian Donovan standing just in front of her, his hands gripping the shirt front of a tall, lanky young man, who wore a somewhat dazed expression.

"If you can't handle your liquor, you shouldn't be drinking, you horse's ass!" Julian snarled right in the man's face, giving him a stout shake that caused his head to snap backwards. "You could have hurt her! And then you and me would have had some real problems!"

That said, Julian Donovan gave the young man a hard shove, which sent him lurching backward several feet and slamming into the nearest pool table, where he landed on his back with a hard thud. As an abrupt silence dropped onto the area, Clydie found herself stunned immobile, her heart hammering in her ears and her rattled mind trying to grasp onto what the hell had happened...or was happening.

Julian Donovan, having disposed of the young man who'd crashed into her, or perhaps had fallen onto her, turned around and held his hand out to her. "Come on. Let's wait for your friend outside. This might not be the best place for you just now."

He didn't even give her a chance to argue. Instead, he reached down, took her hand in his and pulled her up out of her seat...just as the young man bounded up off the pool table, face set with rage, bleary eyes focused on Julian. And seeing the irate expression on the young man's face had Clydie jolting into motion and starting away from the scene, forcing Julian to follow her. She did not want an actual fight breaking out, mainly because she had the distinct feeling that Julian Donovan might wind up beating the clearly inebriated young man into a blood pulp.

With the throbbing silence and the wide, staring eyes of the people around them pushing her forward, she hurried back the way she'd came, getting herself and Julian to the door and quickly pushing through it, feeling painfully aware of the large, warm hand holding onto hers.

Once she was outside in the open space and the cool night air, which was blissfully free of the scents of alcohol and fry grease, she turned to Julian Donovan, annoyed that she had to look up...and up...at him.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded, letting go her grip on his hand, though it took Julian a few extra seconds to get the idea and finally let go his grip on her.

"Do what?" Julian asked, looking past her and toward the door, as if he expected someone to come barging out behind them. And judging by the way he was holding himself, he was prepared to swiftly deal with that situation.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. "Whatever happened back there was probably an accident. Your reaction was a little much, don't you think?"

"Accident or not, that idiot could have hurt you. If he can't handle himself any better than that, he shouldn't be drinking in public," Julian quietly responded, as if accosting a perfect stranger was no big deal.

Clydie took a step away from the man, putting a bit of space between them. She had no idea what was in Mr. Julian Donovan's head and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out. That whole brooding, over protective thing wasn't all that appealing when it was coming from a man she'd only spent about ten minutes with.

The door to the pub suddenly swung open and Matt Tanner burst out, his features etched with anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing, bro? Are you really starting a fight in a bar!" he demanded, stomping over to stand beside Clydie.

Bro? Really? "Matt, he didn't start anything," she heard herself explain, not wanting the two gigantic men to suddenly go at each other right there in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Some horse's ass nearly crushed the life out of Clydie. I was just reminding him of his manners," Julian stated unconcernedly, obviously not regarding Matt Tanner as much of a threat.

Matt eyed the man for a minute and there was a definite vein of tension that began snaking its way around the three of them, causing Clydie's spine to stiffen. "Well, I think the guy got the point. And so did about six of his friends. If you're smart, you'll vanish before they decide to come looking for you."

Julian lifted a shoulder, his grey eyes remaining hard and unaffected. "Clydie could have gotten hurt. Maybe next time there should be a more appropriate place for you two to meet up."

Matt visibly tensed up and, frankly, she could understand his ire. Mr. Julian Donovan was sounding a bit too authoritative for someone who didn't know either of them from a hill of beans.

"Come on, Matt. We should get going," she said, taking hold of Matt's arm and trying to tug him away from Julian Donovan.

Holding his ground, Matt continued to glare at the man for several seconds. "I'll be seeing you around, bro."

It was a thinly veiled threat and Clydie wanted to feel irritated with Matt Tanner, who was as much of a stranger as Julian Donovan and with no more right or reason to pull that whole over protective schtick, but she couldn't feel quite as annoyed. Mainly because she had to agree with Matt's obvious suspicion toward the man. And that notion suddenly reminded her of something, prompting her to let go of Matt's arm and quickly shrug out of the heavy cardigan, stepping forward and thrusting it at Julian Donovan.

"Clydie, really, its yours to keep" Julian stated, lowering his brows and shaking his head.

"Thank you, but I don't want it," she told him plainly, holding it out toward him until he had no choice but to reach out and take it from her.

Once she was free of the sweater, she spun around and started away down the sidewalk, something in her belly urging her forward a bit faster than was probably necessary, feeling more than slightly relieved to be exiting what was a very confusing and unsettling situation.