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you’re doing me the favor, letting me save you .  You really are some kind of stuntwoman.  That much is becoming clearer every day.”
    “Oh shut the hell up already.  Let’s go,” I say, laughing and smiling all the way to his car.
    The ride to Josie’s parents is a too short fifteen minutes out of the city.  He stops in the driveway and I turn to him.
    “Thank you again,” I say.  “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
    “We’ll think of something.  I’m sure we will.”
    He’s including me in his plans now.  That can only be a good sign.  I feel heat moving north to my face again.
    I start to look up and I feel his hand, gently brushing my hair away from my face.  And then he moves it down my jawline to my chin.  My whole body explodes.  I could die right here and I would have made it.
    His touch makes me emotional and I start in a direction I didn’t intend for this moment.
    “I just want to be free,” I say, “Free from my parents.”  I can feel the emotions coming stronger and the tears start to build, but it’s too late.  I’ve already started. 
    His hand moves to the back of my head and I feel it gently caressing.
    “I think you’ve landed in the right place, Cora.  Pacific Heights is a good place.  There’s not much trouble here if you don’t want it.”
    “Yeah, I hope you’re right.  But somehow it always seems to find me,” I say, looking back up at him.
    “Well, I think you’re going to be fine.  But you have to remember, freedom is good.  It sure is something good to have, I mean, but just don’t forget now.  What I’m saying is that freedom… well, even freedom has its limits.”
    I move across the seat as he says this and gently place a kiss on his cheek.  I whisper in his ear, “Not in my dreams.  I’m not letting it.” 
    I get out of the car and head inside.  “See you next week…”
    I head straight upstairs.  The house is dark and quiet.  I flip Josie’s light on and lay down in her bed.  My mind is consumed with thoughts about my trip, trying to get on that train and the country boy who helped me get here.
    What is it about him?  Why is he so calm and confident all the time?  And why is he here?  I can’t believe he just came with his harmonica to make music.  That doesn’t make sense to me.
    I toss those things over for about an hour.  I conclude that I really only know one thing about him- that I can’t get him out of my head.  Those blue eyes, gorgeous face, polished boots.  He has it all.  Doesn’t seem to have a care in the world, except I remember now, when I asked him about home.  He did get a little agitated and said he didn’t want to talk about it.  I wonder what that was about.
    I’m about to turn the light out, and probably sit here thinking for another hour, when I hear clinking noises.  It’s been so quiet that it really takes me by surprise.  I get chills up my arms and legs.
    Where is that noise coming from?  I walk into the corridor, but it only sounds more distant then.
    Back in the room, louder now.  By the window, even louder.  I open the window a few inches and look out.  At first I am taken aback.  Someone is standing in the front yard.  And they are throwing something at this window.  Who the hell is that?
    I turn off the light and open the window a crack more to get a better look.  The night fog is thick and I only see the silhouette of a man. 
    Then he steps forward.  And into view I see him.  I see that he is out of breath now.
    As he comes closer, I can hear his words.  It’s that powerful and husky voice I’ve come to know.  “Cora… “
    “Yes?” I reply.
    “I really want to talk to you,” he says.
    “Were you asleep?” he asks, looking up at me anxiously.
    “Just about.  What are you doing here?  It’s so late,” I say down to him.
    “What are you doing?  Want to come down and talk?” he asks.
    “What do you mean come down and talk?  It’s the middle of