The woman was standing in the doorway of Max’s bedroom when Rosie opened her eyes. She was more ethereal now than when Rosie had first run into her. Some spirits came dressed in what they wanted to be seen in – a favorite shirt or something similar. Some came in what they’d been buried in like Max and Wendy’s grandmother. This spirit was obviously in the clothes she’d been killed in, a World War II era blouse and long skirt, the hem caked with mud. One of her shoes had been lost and her bare foot was covered with dried blood.

“Please.”

“Don’t follow her,” Toby said a she stood next to the door, leaning against the wall. Her arms were folded across her chest as she glared at the woman.

The voices were in her head along with the sound of rushing water.

“Who are you?” Rosie said, not sure if she was asking the ghost or Toby.

“Please help me,” the ghost repeated, desperation clinging to her every word.

“Help yourself, Happy. Don’t keep worrying about everyone else,” Toby insisted.

Rosie felt pulled, against her will, to stand and follow the spirit as she floated out of Max’s bedroom. She led Rosie down the stairs and through the kitchen, right out the back door. She passed the chicken coop and the sheep pasture blindly following as the woman floated over the tilled surface of Max’s gardens.

“Help me,” the woman’s voice repeated, as though Rosie might forget.

They passed three separate garden areas until the woman stopped at the edge of the wood line, hesitating before going on. Rosie hurried through the dirt, her subconscious pushing her, concerned she might lose the woman. When she neared, the spirit continued through the woods soundlessly veering around rocks and fallen branches. She came to a small stream and hovered above it, turning to Rosie. Her body heeded the woman’s pull and she stepped up to the stream. When her feet touched the water, she fell to her knees and groped around the rocky bed, feeling the grit and stones that lay there. Remembering something from her moment in the woman’s mind Rosie looked up in a daze and caught a glimpse of the same trees that had towered over her in those final moments.

This was where she died, Rosie knew.

But this was not where she lay.

* * *

Dallas pulled to the side of old route thirteen and shook his head. The girl was complicated with a capital c. Max was crazy for getting involved with someone like her. After their last run in, he wasn’t sure where they stood. So, instead of getting out of his car and having her run away for whatever reason, he picked up his phone.

“What’s with your girl?” He asked outright when Max answered.

“Rosie?”

“No, the other one,” he deadpanned. “Of course, Rosie! She’s out here wandering around the woods.”

“She’s what?”

“She just crossed the road in front of me. Coming from the woods behind your place and heading-”

“To Smith’s Cove. Shit.” Max’s breathing was loud in Dallas’ ears. “I’m in town at the feed store. Follow her! Do not let her get in that water.”

“Listen, if she’s into skinny dipping-”

“She’s asleep Dallas!” He heard a car door slam and assumed Max was already on his way. “She’ll go in through the woods but she’s going to Smith’s Cove and if you don’t get there and stop her, she’s going in the water.”

Dallas rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding?”

“Do I sound like I’m joking?” Max, who rarely got angry, yelled in his ear. “I’m on my way but I won’t get there in time.”

He put his cruiser in gear and headed toward Smith’s Cove, having lost sight of Rosie in the woods. “Is she nuts or what?” He asked. “This might be one even you can’t save, buddy.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Come on. The bike accident, the hermit routine, the running away and now this? If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, Max. Rosie’s crazy.”

“We can argue about it later, just do me a favor and don’t let her drown before I get there.”

With another sigh, Dallas drove out to Smith’s Cove and looked around. There was no sign of Rosie yet so he got out of his car, leaned against the hood and waited. He liked Rosie and all, she seemed like a sweet girl, but like he said before, complicated as hell. Who wanted to throw that kind of monkey wrench in their lives if they didn’t have to? Max was a smart guy, had his shit together and his life working like a well-oiled machine. Why would he want to add someone like Rosie to the mix and run himself ragged trying to chase her all over God’s creation. Made no sense to him.

It was at least five minutes before he heard a branch break in the woods. He turned to see Rosie barreling her way out of a thick growth of bushes, her eerie eyes glued to the water. He sat up a little straighter watching her forward progress.

It was a cool day, a chill in the air and Rosie was wearing nothing more than a tank top and what looked like a pair of Max’s gym shorts. She made her way closer, moving around big rocks and driftwood piles but her gaze never left the water. He waited as she closed in on him, walking through the parking lot and heading straight for him but her stare never wavered. He saw it coming before it happened and winced as the ball of her foot crunched a shard of a broken glass, but she took no notice. She just kept walking, her dirty foot leaving a trail of blood in the sand behind her.

More curious than alarmed, wondering how far could she really take this, Dallas watched her approach. When she neared, he pushed his butt off the hood and stood in front of her, blocking her path.

She stepped around him like he was just another pile of debris in her way. With a roll of his eyes he spun around and grabbed her wrist.

“Rosie. Come on,” he said. Her hands were like ice and when he looked down her fingers were wrinkled, like they’d been soaking in water.

She never looked his way so he walked in front of her again. He leaned down to look in her eyes and a chill ran down his spine. That clear, uncanny blue of her eyes was barely visible, her pupils so dilated they took up nearly her whole eye.

“Rosie,” he called again, hoping to get her attention.

She tugged against his hold still trying to get to the water. Max had been right. She was going to get in that damn water.

The leaves around them rustled loudly and the trees around them began swaying wildly. It started small but the wind quickly became a roar in his ears, whipping around his face as leaves flew by. When it started picking up sand he put a hand up to cover his eyes and Rosie broke free. She stepped around him and in a few strides was knee deep in the cove.

The wind swirled as he tried to follow her.

“Rosie!” In a flash, Max was behind Rosie, his arms around her waist pulling her from the water.

Her feet continued to move, her hands reaching for something unseen as Max pulled her to solid ground.

“I said don’t let her get in the water!” Max yelled as he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m here. Come back, Rosie.”

“I didn’t let her do anything!” Dallas argued. “I grabbed her and then the wind kicked up and there was sand flying everywhere.”

Max looked around skeptically. That was when Dallas noticed the air around them was still and serene.

He looked away as Max murmured to Rosie, uncomfortable with how intimate they were.

“Come on, baby. Come back. Wake up.” He had his arms wrapped around her, her cheek pressed to his chest.

Dallas could see her eyes and they hadn’t changed at all, not one iota of recognition there.

“She’s still out of it,” he told Max who looked at him in question. “Her eyes.”

“She’s freezing,” Max said, rubbing his hands up and down her back. “Wake up, Rosie.” He cupped her cheeks and kissed her. Not invasive kissing, but pecks on her forehead, her lips, her chin. His hands ran through her hair. “Wake up.”

Dal watched as Rosie blinked rapidly, her hands rising to fist in Max’s shirt.

“That’s it,” Max urged her. “Come back to me, baby.”

She blinked a few more times and sagged into Max’s arms.

“I can’t hear anything,” she whispered.

“Okay, we’re gonna get you out of here.” He turned her around and started leading her to his truck.

Dallas saw she was still leaving a watery trail of blood behind her. He took a few short steps and scooped Rosie up in his arms completely ignoring Max’s protest.

“What the hell?”

“Her foot. She stepped on a piece of glass,” he answered simply. “Open the door of your truck.”

With a growl, Max trotted off and opened the door. Dallas looked down to see Rosie, pale faced and shaking, staring up at him with a vaguely lost expression on her face. He could see the outline of her nipples through her tank top which he studiously avoided looking at. The burn scar was a whole different story. It was about four inches long and shaped like a tee.

“I’ve got you.” He assured her.

“I can’t hear you,” she murmured and then closed her eyes.

“Why the hell can’t she hear me?” His angry gaze turned to Max.

“Just get her in the truck,” Max ordered. “It’s this place. I’ve got to get her out of here.”

Dallas slid her onto the seat. “What the hell is going on, Max? What the hell is wrong with her?”

Max slammed the door shut. “There’s nothing wrong with her.”

“What the hell is she on?”

Max shook his head. “She’s not on anything. I don’t have time for this, Dal. You want to follow us to my house, that’s fine. I’ll see you there.”

Hands on hips, Dallas watched as Max got in the truck and drove away.

“What the hell was that?” He asked himself.

* * *

Rosie felt heavy, like her limbs were dead weight and she couldn’t lift them. Her eyes were heavy and it was so much easier to keep them closed. Things had gotten strange when the woman had led her to the water this time. Though her body had urged her closer, begged her to go in, something held her back. She didn’t know what it was that wouldn’t let her go any further but she wondered if it had saved her life. How far into the water would she have gone?

She knew Max and Dallas had been there, though how or why they were there she wasn’t sure. She remembered nothing but the dream up to that point.

She opened her leaded eyes and was comforted to know she was on Max’s couch under the thick comforter he kept on his bed. It took herculean effort but she forced herself to sit up and take stock.

“Max?” She called.

What sounded like more than one set of footsteps came down the hall from the kitchen.

“Hey.” Max’s voice held a deep note of concern. He sat down without hesitation and pulled her into his arms. “I’m so glad you’re up. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” she said softly.

Dallas appeared, in full police uniform and sat opposite her. He leaned forward, elbows on knees and watched her carefully.

“Are you okay?” He asked, a note of gruffness in his voice.

“I’m fine,” she answered automatically, having no idea if it was true or not.

“Yeah?” He rolled his eyes in annoyance. “How’s your foot feel?

Her brows pulled down. She wiggled her toes and winced as a sting lanced through the bottom of her foot.

“Still fine?”

“I’ll survive.”

When he opened his mouth to say something else Max interrupted. “Lay off, Dal.”

He threw his hands up. “You want me to pretend this didn’t happen, is that it? You know me better than that. I want to know what the hell is going on with her and I want to know now.” He turned back to Rosie. “Are you on drugs? Do you need help?”

She was completely caught off guard. He didn’t know it, but drugs had been a huge part of her childhood. She’d been surrounded by junkies and dealers, had lived in crack houses and brothels. She’d never touched an illegal drug in her life and she didn’t plan to.

“No,” She ground out.

“Erratic behavior, dilated pupils,” he said, ticking off symptoms of drug use.

“I’m not on drugs!” She argued again.

“She’s not on drugs,” Max confirmed. “I left her here sleeping this morning.” He turned to Rosie. “Dal said the wind picked up when he was down there, so strong he had to cover his face so sand didn’t get in his eyes. But when I got there a second later it there wasn’t any wind at all. The air was totally still.”

She’d experienced the same thing in the woods with the woman.

“Oh come on.” Dallas threw up his hands in frustration. “Who gives a shit about the wind?”

“Rosie,” Max prompted. “Just tell him.”

Her eyes widened. Hadn’t it been just yesterday she’d told him how much she didn’t want to tell Dallas. A stab of betrayal lanced through her sharply and she wanted to kick herself. Why did she let herself get attached in the first place? She’d known from the very beginning something like this would happen. Wasn’t it what happened every time she opened herself up to someone?

"Tell me what?" Dallas asked.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Max backtracked warily, putting his hand out and touching her leg. “We need help.”

She didn’t need help. She never asked for help.

“Can I use the bathroom?” She asked, looking away from Max and never even looking back in Dallas’ direction.

Max stood when she did. “Babe,” he started.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes.” She brushed past him and darted up the stairs quickly, grabbing her clothes. Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable changing in Max’s bathroom so she used the hall bath.

While she dressed, she berated herself for getting too invested. Why would she let herself trust someone? How could she let herself almost fall for Max when she knew he’d betray her in the end? Had she really thought he’d be there for her, that he’d stay true to his word? For her?

“A promise is no different than a lie, Happy,” she reminded herself, wiping a ridiculous tear from her cheek as she looked in the mirror. She fixed her hair and gave herself a minute to breathe. Making sure she looked the best she could, she shored herself up, telling herself the same thing she always did when trusting someone felt tempting. “They’re just things people think you want hear.”

She threw Max’s gym shorts in a laundry basket in the hallway and went back downstairs. They both stood this time when she walked in the room but Max quickly moved toward her.

“Rosie.”

She held up a hand and took a step back, Max’s face taking on a confused expression.

“Rosie,” he tried again.

She shifted her eyes to look at Dallas and laid everything on the line. If she didn’t, Max would and in the end what difference would it really make? That way, she’d have control when things went to shit, which they inevitably would.

“I see ghosts sometimes.” Max sucked in a breath but Rosie kept her eyes on Dallas. He was paying close attention but didn’t look like he really believed her. “There’s a spirit that keeps bringing me to that cove and sometimes I end up in the water. I assume her remains are out there somewhere but I know she wasn’t killed there. I don’t know who she is or when she was killed, although I suspect it was sometime in the late forties based on the clothes she’s wearing.”

Dallas stayed quiet for nearly a full minute and then he spent nearly the same amount of time looking back and forth between she and Max.

Finally, he spoke. “And you expect me to buy that?”

“Dal,” Max cut in.

“No,” she spoke over him and gave Dallas a self-depreciating half smile. “I don’t.”

“Then tell me something I can believe, Rosie,” he urged. “Tell me something that makes some sense other than what seems obvious to me.”

“She’s not on drugs,” Max argued.

“I’m gonna go,” she told them quietly as she headed for the door.

“Wait,” Max said making a grab for her arm but she pulled away. “Rosie, please.”

“It was the only thing I asked for, Max,” she said, her voice wobbling. “The only thing I told you I absolutely didn’t want and it was yesterday.”

“It was the only way to get him to believe you. There’s nothing wrong with the truth.”

“You’re right. There’s nothing wrong with the truth but it wasn’t your truth to tell.”

“Baby,”

“Don’t call me that.” She took another step back when those awful tears filled her eyes again. “I told him, he didn’t believe me, end of story. I have to go.”

“Wait,” Dallas interrupted. “That’s all I get? One second to accept you’re some kind of psychic and if I don’t then I’m the bad guy?”

She smiled at him. “No, Dal, you’re not the bad guy. It’s not your fault.” She shrugged. “It’s not anyone’s fault.”

She turned and opened the front door and went searching for her bike, Max right behind her.

“Rosie, please. Talk to me.”

Her bike was leaned against the garage and she got on, turning to face him. “I told you something really personal, Max. Something I don’t tell anyone. Ever. I told you something that every single time I tell someone, something bad happens. And within a day you sold me out.”

“I didn’t sell you out.”

“I told you, flat out, I didn’t want to tell Dallas. Within twenty-four hours you put me on the spot and want me to tell him.”

“Rosie, I’m worried for you!” He argued. “One of these times you’re gonna go in that water and I don’t know how deep you’ll go!”

“So, your solution was to throw me under the bus and force my hand?”

“Dallas is my best friend. I trust him with everything I have. You can trust him with this.”

“I don’t even trust you!” His head reared back in shock, disbelief marring his handsome face. “What? You think a few kisses and movies is all it takes? I know you probably think I’m just some slacker that maybe doesn’t like people. Maybe you think I’m alone because I like to be, but you couldn’t be more wrong. I’m no one, Max. I came from nothing, I have nothing. Everything I’ve had has been taken away from me, and every time, it was by someone I trusted. I don’t trust other people and certainly not because they’re nice.”

She was on a roll and though he looked ready to interrupt she kept going.

“Maybe, especially when they’re nice, because nice just means someone wants something from you and when they want something from you, they’re going to screw you over.”

“I didn’t screw you over,” Max argued. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Then don’t,” she told him flatly.

“Rosie, give me a chance to wrap my brain around this,” Dallas urged from the front yard as he approached.

“I’ll help you find her because if I don’t she won’t give me any peace. But after that? I can’t do any more.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Dallas’s voice held a note of sincerity. “This is just all a little crazy.”

“The first night we met there was a man standing behind you. He was tall and had gray hair and a big belly. I assume he was your grandfather. He apologized to me on your behalf, told me he was sorry you were such a clod. Said you got it from him.”

His face screwed up in confusion as she pushed off and headed off on her bike.

“Grandpa John?” Dallas muttered as Max yelled after her.

“Rosie!”