The Donovans lived a ways out of the village along a small road that led to low cliffs overlooking the sparkling water. It was a lovely spot, though it had to be difficult for an invalid to live in now, Cait thought. She wondered how Mrs. Donovan's husband was coping.

Cait turned on a small curve in the road and pulled into the gravel drive that led to a gray stone cottage with a thatched roof. Mr. Donovan was working in the yard. A rotund man, he had on farmer's overalls and a straw hat. He straightened at the sound of a car and lifted an arm in a wave to Cait. Cait turned the car off and, grabbing the flowers, crossed the front lawn to greet him.

"Mr. Donovan, good to see you," Cait called.

"Aye, Cait, good to see you too. I hope this isn't about my tab at the pub," he said cheerfully.

Cait laughed at him and reached up to kiss his cheek.

"No, I've come to see the missus. I heard about her stroke," Cait said.

The light went out of his eyes and he nodded sadly. "It's sad. Hard to see her like this. I wish that I could do more for her." Mr. Donovan shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

"Well, maybe I can help with that. Can I talk to her?"

"Sure you can, but she can't really answer back more than a shake of her head," Mr. Donovan said. He led her around the house to where a cluster of trees stood. The view of the sea was unobstructed here and Mrs. Donovan sat beneath the trees in the shade they provided. Her eyes followed them as they walked closer.

"Hi, Mrs. Donovan, I brought you flowers," Cait said. She held them out awkwardly before realizing that Mrs. Donovan wouldn't be able to reach for them.

"Here, I'll just show you all the different colors," Cait said and turned the bouquet so Mrs. Donovan could admire them. Letting down her shields, Cait scanned the old woman's brain.

"I love lilies. Oh, they are so precious. They would be perfect in my crystal vase from our wedding."

Cait handed them to Mr. Donovan.

"Um, do you maybe have a pretty crystal vase for these?"

"We sure do. A lovely one from our wedding. I'll find it now." Mr. Donovan pulled another chair close for Cait and then crossed the grass to go inside.

Cait blew out a breath and sat in the chair, taking Mrs. Donovan's hand in hers. It was now or never, she thought. She cleared her throat awkwardly a few times.

"Okay, so…ahem, this is going to sound weird, but just hear me out," Cait stammered. "Gosh, I don't really know how to say this."

Cait turned to see the old woman's eyes tracking her avidly.

"I, um, well, it's like this: I can read minds," Cait rushed out in a breath. Mrs. Donovan's eyebrow rose.

"So, I just thought, maybe you'd like to talk to me a bit. I can hear you if you'd like. So, do you want me to try?"

Mrs. Donovan stared at her for a moment and then gave a subtle nod, yes, with her head.

Cait let down her shields and listened.

"Can you really hear me? I feel like I'm dead in here but my mind has so many thoughts. I'm still here."

"Of course you're still here. You're still a person. We know that," Cait said automatically and then gasped as Mrs. Donovan choked and a slow trickle of tears poured from her eyes.

"Oh, no, please don't cry, Mr. Donovan will kick me out," Cait said desperately.

"I…I'm just so happy to talk to someone," Mrs. Donovan thought.

"I know and I'm sorry that I didn't come sooner. I…I just…not many people know about this," Cait said.

"Well, your secret is safe with me," Mrs. Donovan said in her mind and winked at her and Cait burst out laughing.

"Well, it looks like you two are having fun," Mr. Donovan boomed across the yard. He hurried over to see the tears on his wife's cheeks. Instantly he straightened to glare at Cait. "Why is she crying?"

"Tell him. He doesn't gossip. Tell him, please. Oh, I so want to talk to him again," Mrs. Donovan instructed Cait.

"Um, well, so, it's like this…" Cait stammered. "I, uh, can kind of read minds."

Mr. Donovan's face went a little white and he turned to gape at his wife.

"What? You can talk to her?" Mr. Donovan gestured to his wife.

"Yes, sir, I can."

"Tell me what color underwear I put on this morning," Mr. Donovan demanded.

"He put the faded blue ones on that I've told him to get rid of a million times," Mrs. Donovan said. Cait quirked a smile at her.

"Um, your old blue ones that she told you to get rid of a million times."

Mr. Donovan gasped and, bending over, he scooped Cait from her chair and twirled her in a circle before putting her down to kiss his wife tenderly.

"Tell him that he's been making the bread wrong," Mrs. Donovan said.

"You've been making the bread wrong," Cait said.

"Don't I know it? Thank God you've come." Mr. Donovan chuckled and, drawing up a chair, he began to pepper his wife with questions. Cait laughed and soon fell into an easy rhythm of conversation for an hour. As the sun slipped towards the horizon, Mr. Donovan stood.

"I'll need to help her to the bathroom and start dinner. You're welcome to stay, of course," he said eagerly.

"I have to go, I'm sorry."

Mr. Donovan held her hand and stared into her eyes.

"You've given us a great gift today. I don't know how to ask this but I'd be willing to pay you or help with chores at the pub or anything you need if you could see it in your heart to stop by here and there. Just…so we can talk." Mr. Donovan gulped and Cait felt her heart tear a bit for the couple.

"I'll make this my Monday afternoon stop, okay? Save up your questions for Mondays. And, in the meantime, maybe we can start devising a system of signals for the both of you to communicate. Think about it this week," Cait suggested. She leaned over to kiss Mrs. Donovan's cheek.

"Bless you, Cait. A thousand blessings. You've given me my voice back. I'm forever beholden to you," Mrs. Donovan said.

"No, really, it's nothing. The least that I can do," Cait said, embarrassed.

She left the couple smiling happily at each other. Cait felt a sense of lightness fill her on the drive home. It was a new feeling, one that came from truly helping someone else. She thought that maybe Fiona had been right after all about claiming her power. It wasn't all about her, there was so much more that she could do with her ability. She'd spent her whole life hiding it when she could have been helping others. A pang of sadness hit her as she thought about the old couple and their love for each other. She wanted that…that true, pure love.

Detouring past the pub, she parked her car and stopped in to pick up the mail. Cait gasped as she stepped into the dim interior and saw a large vase of Gerbera daisies on the bar.

"Those were dropped off for you…there's a note," her chef called before passing back into the kitchen.

Trying to keep a smile from her lips, Cait crossed to the bar and plucked the note from among the blooms. She opened it and read the one word it held.

Stupid.

Cait huffed out a laugh at the same time she felt anger fill her. How did he do it? Make her mad and make her laugh at the same time? Cait nibbled at her lip as she looked at the cheerful bunch of flowers. She felt like things were shifting, yet she couldn't seem to get her feet on solid ground with Shane. Frustrated, Cait whisked the vase from the bar and left for her tiny apartment.