Even after her conversation with Wyatt, sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned as she replayed his words in her head. She understood what he had said. He was worried about the stability of his love. He had never seen reciprocal love in his own life, so how could he believe that it existed? Beth had been surrounded by it her whole life, so she knew it did.

It wasn't about her proving her love for him. It was about him believing he could love her, really love her, without hurting her, or falling out of love with her. If his mother still loved his father, despite what he had done to her, then Wyatt must have the capability of loving as much as she did. Perhaps the question Wyatt needed to ask himself was, who was he was more like, his mother or his father?

Beth didn't know either one particularly well, but she would bet he was more like his mother. After all, Mary Alice had drilled the art of being a gentleman into his very core, so there was a good chance that a few of the other things she taught him stuck as well.

A knock on Beth's door startled her, and she sat up, looking at the clock. It was early, six in the morning, just before sunrise.

Beth moved to the door, opening it as she squinted at the light coming from the hallway.

"My father's been in an accident. I have to go to Charleston," Wyatt said bluntly.

His face was blank as he looked down at her so she couldn't determine if it was a life or death situation or not.

"Is it serious?" she asked as her eyes adjusted to the light.

"I'm not sure. Kay called, she refused to go and wants me to instead."

Beth felt there was more to the story, but she didn't want to pry, not yet at least. Wyatt had only started to share, and she didn't want to push him.

"Come with me?" he asked, his green eyes serious as they watched her response.

"Do you really want me to, or are you only asking because you feel like if you don't, I might get my feelings hurt?" Beth crossed her arms.

Wyatt's lip twitched in the ghost of a smile. "It's not a party, Beth. I don't imagine that you could get your feelings hurt if I didn't ask you to rush to my father's sickbed."

Beth gave a huff. "I only meant that after our talk last night, you might think that I might think that you are running away again, and that's why you are asking me to go with you."

"It's too early for this." He shook his head as if to shake off her confusing line of thought. "I would appreciate it if you would come with me. I have a feeling it is going to be the best way for you to exactly know what you're up against concerning the men in my family."

"Why do you say that?" Beth asked, already having decided to go the moment he had asked.

"Because my father was with another woman at the time of the accident."

Their eyes met, and Beth realized he was willing to show her the worst side of himself by taking her with him. "Alright. I'll pack a bag, will twenty minutes be quick enough?" she asked.

He nodded and looked as if he wanted to say more, but before he could, he turned and walked away. Beth wanted their relationship to be strong enough that if Wyatt thought it, he could say it, but she didn't know how to get there.

The next half hour was a rush to pack and grab thermoses of coffee for the road. Charleston was only two hours away, less if traffic was light, so they should be there before nine.

The sun was rising as they reached the bridge that would take them across the river and into South Carolina. Beth watched as the city of Savannah, bathed in the early morning rays of light, shrunk behind them.

"It's a beautiful city," Beth commented for no particular reason other than she felt the need to say the words. "So, let's talk some more."

"I'm a captive participant," Wyatt said as he checked his mirrors and changed lanes.

"You are,  and I have a lot of questions." Beth settled back, feeling at ease with him once again. "Have you ever noticed that we are at our best late at night early in the morning? There's a moment between the end of one day and the beginning of another that makes us completely honest with each other."

Wyatt frowned as he thought back to their brief encounters. The ones where they had been honest with each other had indeed happened just before or at sunrise.

"Well then, let's keep being honest, what are these questions?"

Beth looked at his profile in the morning light, and she noticed some lines around his face. He looked exhausted. "We can wait if you're too tired," Beth suggested. "Would you like me to drive?"

Wyatt reached over and took her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it before he rested their clasped hands on the console between them. "I'm fine, thanks. What are your questions?"

Beth felt her heart turn over at the pure intimacy of his action.

"I guess my top one is, why on earth is Mary Alice in a nursing home. She admitted to having depression, but she doesn't suffer from Alzheimer's."

"My mother placed herself there after a brief discussion with me, where she told me what she was going to do. She likes the attention that she gets. Someone cooks and cleans for her. She doesn't have to worry about bills or any of the cumbersome stuff of life. It also allows her to be more open with the spirits she sees and talks to because people think she has Alzheimer's. My mother is a genius, and I'm not using the term lightly. She is always ten steps ahead of everyone else."

"How so?" Beth asked, intrigued.

"She loved my father, flaws an all. She knew what he was about, and knew why he had married her." Wyatt shrugged.

"You're talking about her money?" Beth asked.

"In part, she agreed to restore River Moss, but only if he let her put it in a trust that was run by a non-profit that had a governing board. They would handle the finances, the farm, the house, and the grounds, while my father and his descendants continued to have the rights to live in the house." Wyatt smiled proudly at the thought.

"So, your father doesn't have control of any of it?" Beth was amazed at the idea. "Nor do you?"

"My father sits on the board, and when he retires, I will replace him, but a single vote is our only right. The non-profit pays rent to my father, which increases with the rate of inflation."

"They are both locked into a partnership?"

"There are loopholes, but I doubt if my father has ever been able to figure them out and if he did, he wouldn't know how to begin to take advantage of them. My mother knew I would, so if the time comes and I want it back, I can get it back. She also waited five years, until everything was set up to produce me." He smiled again. "She loves River Moss as much as I do and she wanted to make sure that my father kept her around long enough to secure the non-profit. I also believe that she was hoping by producing me, my father would love her more."

"But he didn't." Beth took that in, feeling for Mary Alice and the pain she must have felt. "Do you want control of River Moss back?" Beth was holding her breath as she waited for his answer. She somehow felt that the answer mattered a great deal.

"No, I think the system in place works well. I won't have to play manager and can follow my own career, which will let me enjoy the house and property when I wish to without it being a worry."  Wyatt looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Now it's my turn to ask a question?"

"O.K., go," Beth said with a grin, liking all of the honesty flowing between them.

"My mother, you believed her when she told you she talked to spirits?" Beth sensed this was an important answer for him.

"It took a while to accept and wrap my mind around, but now that I have. I really can't picture Mary Alice any other way, and from what you have told me, it's no wonder she and my grandmother get along so well." Wyatt picked up her hand and kissed it again. "What was it like growing up with her? Did you always know she could see spirits?"

Wyatt looked hard out the window as if something really interesting had just passed them. "I always knew, when I was younger because I could see them too," he admitted reluctantly.

"Can you see them now?" Beth couldn't hide her excitement. "Did you ever see Mary?"

Wyatt smiled, and she felt him relax. She hadn't even realized he was so tense.

"I don't see them much anymore, but I do feel them. I met Mary in the cabin, where we got locked in, when I was little. I felt her with us that night. Why do you think I took you outside to kiss you the next morning?" 

Beth absorbed this bit of news, but the amazingness of it registered for only a moment before she had another question, one that had been bothering her since it had happened five years earlier, now six. Beth thought about the date. It had been spring break six years ago that she had met him.

"About that night?" Beth asked as she brought her mind back on task.

"What about it?" Wyatt asked with a tender smile that made her toes curl. It was still their secret.

"When you held me in your arms, does it always feel that way?" Beth's voice grew soft because she was a little bit embarrassed by the question.

Wyatt squeezed her hand. "It has never felt that way for me before or after, Beth. When I saw you this summer, standing in the exact place I had left you five years earlier. I thought you were a figment of my imagination."

"You didn't," Beth giggled. "Did you think I was a memory?"

"No, you looked to different to be a memory, and trust me, I have had plenty of those."

The sun was all the way up, and it and Wyatt's words warmed her to the core. They both had a lot to think about, so they traveled the rest of the way in companionable silence, but she could feel Wyatt grow tense once more as they drew near to Charleston.