Hidden Talents

through the door and ran toward the Jaguar. Caleb was already behind the wheel. He switched on the engine just as she reached the car.
    Serenity yanked open the door and hurtled into the passenger seat.
    “What the hell do you think you're doing?” Caleb asked.
    “I'm coming with you.” Serenity buckled her seat belt.
    “No, you're not.”
    “You can't leave me behind.” Serenity sat back in the seat and locked her door. “You're my business partner, remember? I never abandon a business partner. I've got certain standards to maintain.”
    “Damn,” Caleb said.
    He snapped the Jaguar into gear and pulled out onto the road.

15

    T EN MILES DOWN THE MOUNTAIN C ALEB FINALLY SPOKE again. “This isn't going to be pleasant, Serenity.”
    “I know.”
    “I won't allow you to interfere.”
    “I won't interfere.”
    “The fact that you're along isn't going to change the way I deal with the situation.”
    “I understand.”
    “You can't talk me out of doing this my way.”
    “I realize that.”
    “It's not too late. I can turn around and take you back to Witt's End.”
    Serenity put her hand on the long, taut muscle of his upper thigh. “You're not going into this alone. Remember what I said earlier about everyone having bits and pieces of other people stuck to them?”
    “I remember.”
    “Don't look now, but you've got a whole lot of me stuck to you. And I don't come unstuck very easily.”
    Caleb couldn't think of anything to say to that. She was right, more right than she could possibly know. With every passing day and night, he was increasingly aware of just how much of her had stuck to him, of how much she had become a permanent part of him, a vital, necessary part.
    Caleb glanced into the rearview mirror and saw his own reflection. The image was solid and real and alive. He definitely looked pissed off, he thought, but he looked solid and real. Alive. He could touch things. He could make a difference. And things, people , could touch him.
    “Darn,” Serenity muttered.
    “What's wrong? Change your mind about coming with me?”
    “No, that's not the problem.”
    “What is the problem?”
    She plucked at the long, loose batik printed shirt she was wearing over a matching pair of flowing, wide-legged pants. An elaborately studded belt with a massive buckle marked the waistline of the outfit. “I didn't get a chance to step into a phone booth and change into Miss Town and Country.”
    “Don't worry about it.” Caleb glanced at her wild, red curls and smiled. “You look fine the way you are.”
    “Do you really think so?”
    “Believe me, you've never looked better. Except maybe in those shots Asterley took of you.”
    Serenity's head came around with a swiftness that betrayed her startled surprise. “You never really told me what you thought of those photos.”
    Caleb recalled the juxtaposition of innocence and ancient, womanly wisdom that Asterley had captured so vividly in the pictures of Serenity. “You were right about them. They're works of art. Asterley made you look like some sort of mythical woodland goddess. Elemental. A force of nature. Beautiful.”
    “I'm glad you liked them.” Serenity sounded relieved. “I was a little worried about your reaction. You didn't say much after you saw them.”
    “I got distracted by Franklin's phone call, as I recall, and what with one thing and another, never got back to the subject. Those shots of you are stunning.”
    “Thanks.”
    Out of the corner of his eye he saw her mouth start to curve in a pleased smile. “And when this is all over,” Caleb added very deliberately, “I intend to make certain that I have the negatives and every single print of those photos in my possession.”
    Her eyes widened. “Why?”
    “Those pictures are going to become a part of my personal collection of photographic art.”
    “I didn't know you had a personal collection of photographic art.”
    “I didn't until quite recently.”

    For some reason, Ventress Valley did not look nearly as picturesque and charming to Serenity this time as it had the last. Perhaps it was the gray light filtering through the leaden clouds, which created the sullen atmosphere. Then again, she thought, maybe it was her own uneasy mood that transformed the landscape from a quaint slice of Americana to a scene imbued with brooding menace.
    Whatever the cause, there was no denying that today the fields on the outskirts of town looked empty and forlorn now that the harvest was