Catching sight of Julian Donovan standing with her mother sent something sharp spiraling straight through her and she turned her gaze back to her dad...and a strangled shriek flew out of her, echoing in her ears.

 Standing right there...practically on top of her...was Sam and the two young girls, their faded images so close to her she had no choice but to stumble backward a few steps. Their voided eyes were wide and staring, their mouths were opening and closing in those silent screams...

Fear streaked through her, as sharp and painful as the blade of a knife, numbing her limbs and skipping her heart and with no input from her mind, her eyes squeezed shut and her body whipped around away from those images...away from those things that were already swiping and clawing at her.

 She couldn't do this! Not now! Not right out in the yard...in front of her dad...in front of the delivery men.

Not in front of her mom... Not yet... Her mom didn't need to know just yet...

"Clydie! What's wrong!" she heard her dad call to her over the racket of the delivery truck's engine.

Its not real. Its not real. Sam is dead and gone! She's not real! None of them are real!

"Clydie!" Frank's worried voice sounded out again.

Its not real. They're not real!

The icy cold film left behind by Sam's grasping hands...wasn't real.

"Clydie! Honey! You okay there!" Ella's words fell on her ears...far away...tentative...hopeful...

It wasn't real! Of course, none of it was real!

And she wasn't about to disappoint her mother over something that was not real! It was just too soon! As that thought raced through her mind, her eyes flew open and her body was moving, jolting forward, away from the faded images behind her...away from the icy cold that was dousing her...

She tried not to run. She tried to walk at a steady, normal pace, but with the stark dread and fear surging inside of her and the thick, icy cold dripping down the outside of her, she couldn't stop herself. She had to get away from it all, so she burst into a flat out sprint, her legs carrying her forward of their own will. She felt her feet hitting the ground as she raced to put some distance between herself and those grasping images...despite knowing they were going to follow her because they were inside her own head.

Her body suddenly slammed into something hard enough to push the breath out of her, the impact sending her staggering backward...and the hands instantly clamping down onto her shoulders pulling her forward, stopping her from tumbling to the ground.

"Clydie! Oh my god! What's going on!" her mother's voice gasped and she realized that she'd squeezed her eyes closed again.

With something of a start, she forced them open...and found herself staring up into Julian Donovan's ruggedly handsome face and grey eyes that were as cold and unreadable as two chunks of stone. "Whoa! Where's the fire?" he asked, his brows drawing together as his large hands held her steady.

Fire?  There was no fire.  There was only the ghost of her dead sister and a couple of her sister's new friends...

She didn't want to, but she couldn't stop herself from glancing back over her shoulder, bracing to find those colorless images still right behind her, right in face, clawing at her... But, they were gone. There was nothing for her to see but the expanse of overgrown yard the massive truck delivering her dad's gazebo.

Seeing the empty garden, she felt a sob born of sheer relief working its way up the back of her throat, but she fought to keep it tamped down. They were gone. For now. For now... So, for a few hours at least, she would be okay. For a few more hours, she would be free of her torment...

"Clydie? What-what's...happening?" Ella questioned, her voice strained and tinged with...dread.

Hearing that tone coming from her mother, Clydie felt herself trying to snap too, trying to calm down enough to catch her breath. She could not allow Ella to find out that it was happening again so soon. It wasn't fair. Neither Ella, nor Frank, had asked for two daughters who'd been nothing but worry and trouble.

"I-I... Its nothing. I'm okay. Th-there...I think...there was a bee?" she rasped dryly, turning back to look at her mom, but it was Julian Donovan her gaze landed on.

Julian Donovan, who was still there, holding onto her shoulders, his tall and broad frame blocking out everything behind him.

"A bee?" Julian repeated skeptically. "Its a little late in the year for bees, isn't it?"

A flush crept up into her cheeks and she opened her mouth to respond, but she couldn't. He was right. It was late in the year for bees.

"Leave it to my daughter to find the one rogue bee still flying around," Ella said, obviously trying her best to believe the words her daughter had just spoken. "They're drawn to her because she's so terrified of the little buggers."

Julian Donovan swept a look past Clydie, his grey eyes narrowing as if he was searching for the reported pest.

"Anyway, Clydie, this is our neighbor, Julian Donovan. Julian, this scaredy-cat is my daughter, Clydie," Ella introduced, choosing to breeze right past the moment.

"I've met your lovely daughter a couple of times now, Mrs. Weston," Julian revealed, his gritty voice and drippy accent washing over Clydie in a warm wave that served to stave off some of the horror she'd been feeling only a few brief seconds before. An occurrence that stunned her somewhat.

"Really? Well, how about that!" Ella grinned, sounding perhaps a bit more enthusiastic than Clydie felt was necessary. "Clydie, Mr. Donovan came by to welcome us to the neighborhood. Isn't that nice?"

It was then that she noticed the bouquet of brightly colored fall flowers clutched in Ella's hands. A gift from Mr. Julian Donovan, no doubt.

"I was just telling your mom that this old place is going to be a sight to see when ya'll get through working on it," Julian said, giving her something of a soft smile. But, that smile did absolutely nothing to liven up his stone cold eyes.

"Clydie, why don't you take these inside and put them in some water? And while you're there, you can give this handsome young man a tour of the house!" her mom suggested, her smile so wide it practically met at the back of her head.

As Ella held the bouquet out to her, she felt herself fairly trying to recoil, only to realize that Julian Donovan still had his hands placed firmly on her shoulders. The thought of walking the towering man with the cold grey eyes around the house was...highly unsettling.

"I'd be delighted for Clydie to give me the tour," Julian intoned, catching her gaze...and there was a very brief moment during which something rather disconcerting passed between them.

She wasn't exactly sure what that something was, or if she'd merely imagined it, but it was still enough to cause her to shoot a glance over at her mother, her mouth opening as she readied to spill out about twenty good reasons why she didn't have time to show Julian Donovan around, but...seeing her mom's face stopped those excuses short.

Ella was looking at her with wide, gleaming eyes and an expectant smile, as if she knew exactly what was going on between Julian Donovan and her daughter, and she was more than thrilled with whatever it was.

"You'll do me the honor?" wondered Julian, releasing her shoulders and reaching for the flowers Ellen was holding out.

Not knowing what else to do, Clydie nodded her consent.

Clearly, her mother was so desperate for her daughter to interact with normal, living and breathing people, that she was willing to overlook the fact that Mr. Julian Donovan was not exactly fresh out of high school.

"Perfect!" Ella gushed. "Now, I have to go and help your father. Otherwise, he's likely to wind up trapped underneath that blasted gazebo of his!"

That said, Ella hurried away across the yard, leaving Clydie alone with Julian Donovan. And also leaving her feeling that she'd somehow just agreed to be sold off. But, she wouldn't hold that against her mother. She completely understood...

"Its good to see you again, Clydie," Julian said, holding the flowers out to her.

She hesitated a moment before taking the bouquet that was wrapped in red foil and tied with gold ribbon. "What are you doing here?" she asked, deciding to forgo the pleasantries.

Julian lifted a broad shoulder. "Like your mama said, I came by to welcome your family to the neighborhood," he replied, pointing to the flowers in her hands.

She didn't want to seem like a rude, bratty person, but she didn't exactly believe him. "You didn't just to come here for that, did you?" she accused, wanting to get it all out in the open.

This was no young boy she was dealing with. This was a grown man. And she wanted to know exactly what he was up to because...it surely felt like he was trying to get up to something.

Julian's ruddy brows lifted high, but those hard eyes never so much as changed. "You don't pull any punches, do you?"

She merely stared up at him, waiting for him to answer the question.

"Well, Miss Weston, the truth of the matter is, I did come by to introduce myself to your family. But, I also came by hoping to see you."

"Why?" she asked plainly as a flash of surprise flared up inside her.

"Why do you think?" he posed.

Well, at that moment, what she thought was that Matt Tanner had been spot on in his assessment of Julian Donovan. And truly, she had no idea to react to...that.

"Why don't you give me that tour? It'll give us a chance to get acquainted," Julian said, offering her his arm, which was clad in another thick fisherman's cardigan. This one a dark navy blue.

Ignoring the gesture, she turned and started forward, pointing herself toward the back of the house...and feeling a rush of relief at finding the way free and clear of any faded, ghostly images intent on dragging her off to hell.

Hoofing it toward the backdoor, with Julian close behind, she became aware of eyes boring into her and she knew that searing gaze was likely coming from Matt Tanner, but she decided to avoid looking in his direction. She was doing as her mother had asked, so Matt was wasting his rage.

Entering through the backdoor and into the dingy kitchen, she laid the flowers on the counter by the sink and then turned to Julian Donovan, who was watching her rather intently. "Do you really want to see the house?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I? There's not many like this old gal left around," Julian stated, looking around at the kitchen with what she thought could be a measure of appreciation.

"Well, this is the kitchen," she helpfully pointed out. "And you didn't actually answer my question. Why do you want to see me?"

"Welp, because Miss Clydie Weston, I find you a rather intriguing figure," he replied and she could have sworn that he was purposely deepening his accent in an effort to sway her.

But, unfortunately for him, she could not be swayed. "Which part did you find intriguing, Mr. Donovan? The part where you found me bawling my eyes out on the beach? Or the part where you saw me nearly getting crushed to death by some wasted nub in a bar?"

Julian pulled in a deep breath and let it slowly back out, his gaze never wavering as it held hers. "Honestly, it started with you crying on the beach. And it ended with you on the town square, standing beneath all those lights and looking about as lovely, not to mention heart-torn, as anyone I've ever seen."

Clydie pulled in her own breath and huffed it back out, trying to decide whether she should laugh...or crack Julian Donovan in the jaw. Both options seemed fairly reasonable at that juncture. However, she decided to merely turn around and make for the kitchen door, wondering where she might find her rain boots because it was getting deep in the Weston house.

She exited the kitchen and moved along the hallway, her guest right on her heels. Doing as she'd been told, she led Julian Donovan through the maze of downstairs rooms, which all looked pretty much the same. Dirty, dingy, sticky, stained, and cluttered with boxes and leftover furniture draped in sheets.

"Do you need to see the upstairs?" she asked, finally breaking the silence between them.

"Absolutely. I'm in this far!" came the riposte and she started them toward the stairway, annoyance washing through her.

She gave him the walk-through of the upstairs, leaving two of the bedrooms off the tour, for reasons obvious, and allowing him to check out the bathrooms—oh god, the bathrooms—on his own. They still didn't speak, but she had to give it to Mr. Julian Donovan. He did make quite a pretense of studying the moldings and the carved mantle pieces and other such details throughout the house.

"Well, that's about it. You've seen everything there is to see," she announced, leading the way back to the staircase.

"This old place is massive," Julian stated as they started their descent. "Your folks have a lot of guts, trying to fix it up. Its going to take some work."

Clydie nodded and kept on her way. Her mother couldn't have spent more than a couple of minutes talking to the man. Had she managed to tell him the Weston's entire life story in those few seconds?

"Your family is going to need a lot of help—"

"We've already hired some people," she cut him off, just in case his mind might be heading in that direction.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she hurried them across the cluttered foyer and back down the hallway and into the kitchen, going straight for the backdoor and waiting there for Julian Donovan, who'd fallen a few steps behind.

"Thanks for the tour, Miss Weston. It was a pleasure seeing you again," Julian said in a proper sort of way as he came to a stop before her. "I hope we meet again soon."

Uh, his hope was wasted if she had any say at all in the matter. The one thing she did not appreciate was bullshit. And Mr. Julian Donovan seemed to be serving her up quite a helping of it.

Pulling open the backdoor, she waited for the man to exit through it, and then she promptly and firmly slammed it closed before he had a chance to say anything further. Really, Julian Donovan might be pretty, and he might have an incredibly hot cowboy drawl, but those things didn't make up for the fact that he was clearly off in his brain pan.

And she didn't have the time nor the inclination to deal with him or his bullshit.

That decided, she headed out of the kitchen and back toward her bedroom. She did, however, have to concede that dealing with Julian Donovan had kept her mind off her troubles for a little while, which she would take as a positive. A positive borne out of an incredibly odd situation, but a positive nonetheless.