Max.

She knew it was Max and stopped fighting. His hands settled around her wrists and he gently pulled her to him. She could feel the vibration of his voice rumble through his chest against her cheek. She closed her eyes but heard nothing.

"There's no peace here," the voice said again so loud Rosie's head felt like it might explode. "Help me. Please."

"Stop it," Rosie muttered to herself. "Stop it."

"Help me. Help Jack." The voice was insistent. Loud and adamant. Demanding.

Rosie still heard nothing of the outside world. Just the woman and the water.

"Help me."

"I can't." Rosie squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her face to Max's chest, her hands covering her ears. "Please, stop."

"Help me. Help Jack. Help me." The voice got louder and louder, giving her no time to recover. There wasn't a moment to gather her wits or regain her strength. The spirit bombarded her with not just her voice but her desperate energy as well. Rosie could feel it pressing in on her. "Help me."

"I can't!" Rosie pulled away from Max and screamed, her breath heaving. "I can't help you! Leave me alone!" She turned herself around, scanning for the spirit in the surrounding area.

She felt Max grab her shoulder but startled and shook his hand off. When she turned, he was holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. His lips were moving but she still only heard that damn water, rushing through her brain.

"I can't hear you," she told him loudly, panicked.

He was watching her carefully, his brows drawn down and his mouth a straight, serious line. He tried to say something else but she couldn't hear him. When she heaved a frustrated breath, he grabbed her hand and pulled her quickly to his truck. He opened the door for her and even helped her in before getting in and taking off. The further from the cove they got the more the rushing water eased.

"Rosie?" The voice was like a whisper.

"Is that you?" she asked him.

He reached across the bench seat, grabbed her hand and squeezed. "Yeah. That's me." His voice was a little louder now. He sent her a small smile, like this chaotic whirlwind hadn't just happened.

That was all he said as he drove to her camper, still hanging on to her hand. She wanted to mind but couldn't bring herself to. His hand was big and warm, comforting while still sending an excited current up her arm.

By the time they reached her place the water in her head was gone. Max's dog was waiting at her door, Gizmo rolling in the dirt at its feet.

"Looks like Gizmo is out," Max said idly.

She never kept Gizmo out when she left home. She must have let him out when she left yesterday.

Rosie got out of the truck, Max right behind her. She went to unlock her door and found it was already open, leaving her even more off kilter. That was something she never did. For a few different reasons, she kept cash in her camper and was always careful to lock up. She looked inside, just in case someone had come in overnight, but found the coast clear. She grabbed Gizmo's food and water and put them outside, threw on a pair of her own yoga pants and joined Max who was sitting in the outdoor chair looking like he'd been blindsided.

Blindsided by her crazy ass.

She sat in the chair next to him but didn't say anything and just waited for him.

"Are you okay?" He asked after a few minutes.

He wouldn't look at her. That stung, but she didn't expect anything less.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "You don't have to stay."

He glared at her. "You think I'm what? Just going to ditch you here alone after that."

"You're not ditching me. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

He let out an annoyed breath. "Will you quit it with all that shit already. I'm not buying it."

"Buying what? That I can take care of myself?"

"No." He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, leaving those top ends standing nearly straight up. “We all get it, you live out here alone, you can take care of yourself. We all know. But Jesus, Rosie..."

"What, Max? It's all true."

"I'm not saying it's not but give us a chance to at least try to be here for you so you don't always have to do it alone. Give me a chance."

She turned away from him. She'd given people chances before. She'd relied on people and let them all in. Never, in all her life, had that led to something good.

"What's out there?" She turned to find him staring at her. "What's out there at Smith's Cove?"

The truth seemed like a terrible thing to tell him. Did he really want to know something so morbid? Would he even believe her if she told him?

"Rosie?" he prompted.

She shrugged, blowing his question off. "I don't know. The wind must have been really loud in my ears."

She didn't dare look at him after telling such a blatant lie. She could feel his eyes boring into her, condemning her for lying.

"The wind," he repeated, angry and disbelieving. If he knew her, really knew her, he wouldn't be surprised. He'd know she was going to lie. It would be a given.

Her entire life was one carefully crafted lie on top of another.

Then again, there wasn't anyone that really knew her anymore, was there?

She turned her face away from him, keeping him on the edge of her periphery. "Must have been."

They sat in painful silence until Gizmo finished his food and jumped in Max's lap. Then his purring filled the air and she couldn't help but watch out the corner of her eye as he stroked the cat’s back.

Max was a nice guy. She couldn't figure out what it was about him that calmed her or why she enjoyed just sitting quietly with him. It wasn't like her to take comfort in others especially when she'd spent so much time making sure she could do those things for herself. Not being able to get much of a read on him was strange. She would think the unknown would make her more uncomfortable but it did the opposite. Something about Max's presence soothed her in a way she’d never experienced. Odd that it had nothing to do with knowing what he was thinking or his aura, it was just something about him.

"Are you working tonight?" He asked quietly.

"Not until eight.”

"Did you want to get changed and come back to the farm with me?"

She looked to him in surprise only to find his head turned away, like she had done to him.

"Why?"

It was the first thought that came to her mind. Why would he want her with him, especially after the last twenty-four hours? Was it to keep an eye on her and make sure she wasn't insane?

He spared her a glance. "You seemed interested when we were there. I thought I could show you around if you wanted. If you had time."

She shook her head. "I'm not crazy. You don't have to watch me."

"I'm not watching you." He sounded offended. "I just thought...never mind."

She was being a jerk. He was trying to do something nice, his aura projecting no ulterior motives, just that steady emerald green with the grayish haze.

"Give me fifteen minutes to get cleaned up." She stood and went into the camper and grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater.

She quickly showered and changed then considered what she was doing. She'd never had any problems making friends. It was keeping them that was the problem. When she was younger she didn't know she wasn't supposed to make friends with spirits. She'd never kept her distance and in the end, they'd all moved on and she'd been left behind, confused. She'd made a few friends at the different schools she attended but between always being the new kid and being weird, none of the friendships stuck.

She thought about Butch and Erin Hardy and immediately shut it down. That had been her biggest fall to date, the biggest loss she'd ever experienced. After things with her mother had gone from bad to worse she'd put her trust in the Hardy's. They'd begged her to. She'd been young and naïve, so she'd listened. When they'd turned their backs on her it had cut deeper than any knife could. When things with her mother eventually went from worse to deadly, there’d been no one to turn to.

She threw her hair up and opened the door.

"You can come in. I'll just get my boots on."

Max ducked his head and stepped in. He stood in the middle of her tiny living space and looked around, eyeing her book and movie collection with interest.

She made few smooching noises at Gizmo, who answered with a meow before flicking his tail at Max's dog and jumping in the camper. She made sure to lock the door before heading to the truck.

"How long do you think we'll be?" She asked offhand. "Should I bring my bike?"

"I'll drive you to work later." He made it sound like it should have been obvious.

“I still have to get home at the end of my shift. I ride my bike home from the bus stop."

He rubbed his face, like he was stressed. "That's crazy," he muttered. "I'll just come pick you up."

She crossed her arms. "I get out at three in the morning. You’re not coming to pick me up in the middle of the night."

"Why don't you ask Wendy to let you use one of the company cars. I'm sure she won't mind."

"I'm not taking a company car. I can get to work just like everyone else."

"Yeah, well, everyone else doesn't ride a bike in the middle of the night down deserted streets."

She could see his point but didn't need his intervention.

"Can we just put my bike in the truck?" she asked. "So, if I need it I have it."

Her bike ended up in the back of the truck as he drove them the short distance back to his house, which really was lovely. A big, old fashioned farmhouse with a big front porch that had a swing.

She could feel her excitement building at the prospect of Max showing her his farm, dying to see the animals in the barn.

"Come on," he laughed when they got out of the truck.

"I'm sorry," she winced at how embarrassingly giddy she must look.

"Don't be sorry. Some days, I feel the same way when I get to work out here. That's why I keep doing it."

He held the door of the small barn open for her. The smells of hay, manure and grain greeted her. Not in an overpowering, dirty way, but just enough to know it was, in fact, a working farm.

"This is where I keep my special ladies," he told her, winking.

They walked through a hallway with gated stalls on either side. As they approached she heard high pitched crying.

"That's Ginny. I haven't been to see her yet this morning. She's upset."

When they came to the gate, Rosie saw a herd of tiny little goats. Some were black and white and some were white and brown, but one was a reddish-brown color, almost like a deer. The little thing was howling so loudly it sounded like a baby crying.

"Go on," Max told her, gathering a bucket and a few other things. "You can get in there with them. Be careful though, they nibble. Other than that, they might just love you to death."

Rosie climbed over and they immediately surrounded her. Some tried to nibble her sweater and one went for her knee. One insistently scratched its head on her shin which made her giggle.

"That's Luna." Max hopped in beside her, began doling out handfuls of grain and started ticking off their names. "Bella, Ariana, Lily, Minerva, Hermione, Nymphadora."

"Don't call her Nymphadora,” Rosie corrected. “Tonks.” She squealed out a laugh as one of the goats put its front feet on her thighs.

"Lily, no," Max scolded.

But Rosie continued to laugh as she scratched the animal. "I think I'm in love."