Again, thanks for all the reviews and encouragement. I appreciate it more than I can tell you. And thanks to Mary for some technical help on this chapter as well as her great beta job.

I still don't own the characters, just the situation.

Dinner was everything he had always known it would be. Sure, he had eaten with the family many times before, but this was by far different. It was nice to actually be able to feel the other hand he passed the dishes too, to feel himself getting full, and the food had a better taste. The children played their "good thing, bad thing" game; and he, for the first time, felt comfortable enough to join in.

Coming back into the kitchen to retrieve Jonathan's cup for him, he overheard Martha Grant and Carolyn Muir talking about him and he had to pause for a moment.

"It seems like he belongs here," the housekeeper was saying. "And I haven't seen you this happy for quite a while."

"I haven't been this happy in a long time," Carolyn's eyes looked dreamy. "I'm sure Bobby would understand."

"Of course he would. Mr. Muir only ever wanted you to be happy. And he would like this Gregg fellow."

"Yes, he would," the woman agreed happily. "And the kids seem to like him, too."

"They sure do. Of course there are no guarantees, but I think it would be easy to have him as a member of the family. And then he could stay here."

"Martha!" Her face grew red.

"I call it the way I see it."

"You always have." Carolyn shook her head in amusement.

"Here you go, lad. " He gave the boy his cup, still full of milk. "Be careful not to spill any on your mother's new rug."

"How did you know it's a new rug?" Candy looked over at him, her eyes wide as they peered over the rim of her cup.

"I don't, I suppose. It's just that it looks new." He hoped he had rescued himself. But it was the new rug that Carolyn had brought home just a couple of days before all the changes had happened.

"I know why you know," Jonathan said proudly. But he didn't get a chance to tell his story, because Martha came in with a tray of chocolate cake and a pot of coffee. After that, everyone was busy getting their piece.

As Daniel sat back on the sofa, his cake plate in hand, he wondered exactly what Jonathan did know, and if it would help or hinder him?

His attention was soon drawn to the lithe blond woman who sat down across from him, the firelight making her hair glow like the sun. She gave him a shy smile before she took a bite of her cake and he felt stirrings of contentment and security and home. Not to mention a few unmentionable stirrings. The family talked about going to get the tree in the morning, and both Candy and Jonathan asked the Captain if he would like to join them.

"The Captain may have other plans," Carolyn told them. "I'm sure he has some things he needs to take care of while he's here."

"I do indeed," he nodded. "But none of them are so important they can not wait for finding a good and proper Christmas tree — that is if it is okay with your beautiful mother."

"It is." Carolyn beamed and the children cheered. "It will be nice having you come with us," Candy told him as the children said their good nights. "Almost like a family."

Carolyn felt her face turn red at her daughter's statement and hoped that Daniel wouldn't be too angry. "She thinks without talking sometimes." she apologized to him for her child, as she took her chair once more.

"Are you under the impression that I am upset about what she said?" he asked her, his eyes shining. "On the contrary." He patted the empty spot on the sofa, indicating she should sit there.

Slowly, Carolyn got up and sat down beside him, feeling almost shy. But when his arms came around her and his mouth captured hers, all reticence was forgotten. Kissing until they were breathless, they took a small break, and then once more picked up their kiss. "Oh, Daniel," she whispered his name and he felt his body stir in response.

"Yes, my love?"

"I can't believe this is happening," she stroked his cheek, the feel of his skin soft in contrast to the beard. "I'm not sure if I can actually make myself know that this real and not a dream."

"I've had quite the experience in dreams," he told her, kissing the exact middle of her mouth, "and I can tell you with confidence that this is not a dream. It's all very real."

"I'm going to take your word on that," she sighed, happily, running her fingers over his mouth, allowing him to take one and kiss it softly.

He didn't want to go, but he knew he had to. It wouldn't be proper for him to so much as stay in the guest room, even though he did own the house, because he was not family. As he approached the lobby of the hotel, he saw Ed Peavey waiting for him, and although the man was smiling, he wasn't sure if all was well.

"Nice to see you again, Captain." The thin man held out his hand, which Daniel gripped firmly. "And I know that you know this, but I have to remind you that you must stay one-hundred feet away from Claymore at all times. If you don't, I have the right to ask you to leave Schooner Bay."

"Well, I did go see him today," the Captain confessed. "But it was very important that I do so. He's been cheating Mrs. Muir and me out of a great deal of money and I had to tell him he needs to make it right. I couldn't do that over the phone."

"No, I'd say you couldn't," the handyman and acting constable nodded. "Tell me, Captain Gregg, do you have proof of what you just said about Claymore cheatin' you and all?"

"I believe so," Daniel nodded. "I have checks and some paperwork. "I do know that I gave him a check to put a new roof on Gull Cottage, a check he signed and cashed, but if that roof is new, then I'm a monkey's uncle. I also happen to know, and have evidence, that he's been charging Mrs. Muir $25 more a month than the actual rent, and I assume he's pocketing the difference."

"Why don't you come to my office sometime tomorrow and we will talk about it? If it's true, and I'm not saying I don't believe you, then we have some serious talkin' to do with Claymore. And it's a whole lot bigger than you pushin' him out the window!"

"Right," Daniel nodded, while his mind was going ninety miles a minute. I pushed him out a window? He really needed to get to the bottom of this.

He made arrangements to talk to Mr. Peavey around one o'clock the next day, figuring he could help the Muir family pick out a tree, and then go back if he were so invited. (Which he had the feeling he just might be) Going into his room, he sank down on the bed, pulling off his shoes without untying them. He smiled nostalgically, thinking how many times he had heard Martha or Carolyn remind the kids not to do that.

After removing his socks he rubbed his feet, then lay down on top of the bedspread. Window, window. Think, Daniel. When would you have pushed Claymore out of a window? But try as he might, he couldn't remember a time in either existence that he had done such a thing.

Finally getting up, he removed the rest of his clothes and took a nice hot shower, slipping into pajamas. He was so tired, something he still wasn't quite used to. When he had first woken up to this strange world, he had wondered everyday, perhaps every hour, if something would blink or hiccup and send him back the other way. But now after all this time, he was fairly sure it wouldn't. And so, he lay in bed, allowing himself to think about the future. Would she marry him if he should ask? Yes, he was fairly certain she would. But that would just be the beginning — where would they get married, where would they live? He fell into a light sleep, accented with dreams about marrying Carolyn, only to have Claymore dive-bomb through the window of the church. Suddenly he sat up and glanced at the clock to see that it was four a.m.

The window — of course! Claymore had gone through the open French doors, ended up on the balcony, and had invaded the household for what seemed like a month, laid up with a slipped disk. In that case he had threatened to sue Mrs. Muir for his injuries, but had that somehow gotten twisted around in this new world? He certainly was going to do his best to find out.

ooooooooooooooo

The Boy Scout lot had quite a few nice trees. After carefully perusing them all, they picked a six-foot Frazier Fir that had what Carolyn called a 'personality.' It was a lot of fun, the four of them together, acting like, well a, family. After he tied the tree to the top of the station wagon, they headed for Gull Cottage where the housekeeper had hot chocolate and pumpkin cake ready for them.

Daniel put the tree in the stand, while Carolyn gave directions, to make sure it was straight and when the whole family declared it to be perfect they opened the box of decorations that Martha had brought down from the attic. "Lights first," Carolyn said, reaching into the other box for them. Daniel noticed the three boxes looked brand new, every bulb in its place.

"Have these been used before?" he asked, as he started to remove them from the Styrofoam.

"Yes," Carolyn nodded, a shadow coming into her lovely eyes. "But they should still be good. Bob, Bobby would have checked them before he put them away."

He almost felt like he shouldn't be touching the lights that the late Mr. Muir had lovingly replaced in the cartons. It also must mean that there was no tree last year. How very sad.

"He was very good at putting lights away. The wires aren't even tangled."

"Daddy was good with his hands," Jonathan said quietly, rooting around in the other box.

"Well, let's make sure none of the bulbs are burned out," Martha suggested. "We do have a few spares, if we need them."

The lights went on without any problem, each one sparkling with its own brilliant color. Each ornament had a history that they shared with Daniel, stories he hoped he would remember. He also resolved to contribute a few ornaments with their stories to add to the picture. When the last popcorn string was up and the last ornament shining in the firelight, Daniel held Jonathan up while he put the angel on top and they all stood back to look at the effect.

"It's beautiful," Candy breathed.

Carolyn nodded in agreement, "It's the best tree yet." Daniel felt her hand on his back and he drew his arms around her, giving the woman an affectionate squeeze. Candy looked up at him and offered her hand to his free one and he took it, giving it a squeeze as well. It was nice belonging.

He excused himself to meet Ed Peavey for lunch. Carolyn informed him in her sweet way that he was expected back that evening. "I'm so glad you were with us today," she told him as her hands went around his neck, pulling him close for a kiss.

"Thank you for allowing me." He kissed her back. "I really enjoyed it."

"I want to talk to you later tonight," she whispered.

"Oh?" He must have looked startled, because her eyes smiled up at him with amusement.

"Nothing to worry about, Mister, just something I need to say." They kissed again and then he turned to go, not releasing her hand until the very last minute.

"Good bye for now, Daniel Gregg," she waved.

If he had anything to do with this, it would be the last time goodbye would ever have to come between them again.

Ooooooooooooooo

Thankfully, he had always kept complete records. Years at sea, faithfully jotting everything down in his rough logbook, had taught him to record even the most seemingly unimportant events. And so, he had every check that Claymore had sent for Mrs. Muir's rent, every receipt that his cousin had turned in to him for compensation, every mention that something was wrong with Gull Cottage.

Stopping by his room to collect his briefcase full of evidence, he was gratified to see a delivery truck from Loeinger's Department Store in Keystone heading up toward the house. Ed Peavey was sitting at a table in the back corner, enjoying his second beer when Daniel walked in. After shaking hands, the carpenter and sometimes constable asked the captain what he was drinking, and then he took the proffered briefcase. He sat silently for what seemed hours, going through the contents, finally setting it down in front of him.

"Looks like you've got a pretty good case against old Claymore." Ed said slowly. " I know for a fact that a lot of things he told you he fixed, he didn't. And I fixed Mrs. Muir's window myself, when that tree rammed through it. And according to this, you reimbursed him for fixing the dryer when the motor burned out. I hate to tell you, I fixed that for Mrs. Muir and there was nothing to reimburse, 'cause I didn't charge them anything," he shrugged.

"So, what you are saying is, I have very good grounds to sue my cousin on fraud, negligence and theft." Daniel stroked his beard. "I could teach him a lesson, once and for all."

"Yep," Ed Peavey nodded. "You could put him in his place. After this, you pushing him through the window seems like child's play. Especially since the only one who said you did so was, well Claymore."

Daniel Gregg nodded as he took a drink from his mug, the cold beverage feeling good as it went down his throat. Suddenly, his head started to swim, as what seemed like a thousand flashbacks began crowding into his brain and he knew he needed some time to think.

"You have enough evidence to arrest Claymore, here alone," the man was saying. "Do you want me to issue a warrant?"

"No, not yet," the seaman shook his head. "I'm going to need a while to think this over."

"I understand. You know where to find me. And welcome home to Schooner Bay. I never thought you should have left, but Claymore did make it hard on you, there for a while."

As the memory of the incident flooded over him, he thanked his eating companion for the welcome and told him he would take care of the check. Suddenly there was so much more to think about.

Ooooooooooooooo

Back at the Inn, he asked for a pot of coffee to be delivered to his room, which he waited for by pacing back and forth on the rug. Two sets of memories of the incident in question were struggling to take predominance in his mind. He just needed some time to think.

He tipped the bellboy generously, thanking him for being prompt. Coffee always helped him to think clearly, to focus on what was ahead. At sea, the brew had often been a luxury and was usually the first thing he and Brendan would go and find, even before a warm bed and the woman to go with it.

Struggling to concentrate on one set of thoughts at a time, the picture of the day in question came to mind. He had called Claymore to fix the bedroom doorknob. It wasn't turning properly and Carolyn had gotten locked in the room. She hadn't wanted to call the numbskull and said she would fix it herself; something he had told her wasn't her responsibility.

So, in his rashness and needing to be in charge, he had called Claymore, and thus the problem had begun. If only he hadn't been turned the knob on the other side of the door when the sea serpent had tried to open it! If only he had listened to Carolyn in the first place and allowed her to take care of the problem in her own way. But instead, Claymore had gone sailing through the open French doors, landing in a ball in the corner of the balcony, right in the middle of Carolyn's potted plants.

For several seconds, he, Daniel, was afraid that the man actually had been killed, but it was soon apparent he wasn't. But he had been hurt and Daniel hadn't been sure he could deal with the guilt. So, he had tried to pretend it didn't matter — but it had. What was that Carolyn had said? That everyone liked to belong? Sure, the nincompoop had been faking after the first couple of days, but had it really hurt anyone? No, it had actually been, well, kind of nice.

They had all learned something from each other that week, and despite the enormous food bill and Martha's vow never to cook for Claymore again (which she never kept) he had actually enjoyed the incident. But he had to admit that making Claymore's records fly through the air had been quite fun and he wasn't sorry for that part.

That had been a mere two years ago, but not in this world he was in now. Nor had the outcome been anywhere near the same. And he could remember it clearly.

The doorknob to the bedroom had stuck and he had been alone in the house. Desperate to get out, he had done the only thing left to do, phone Claymore and have him open the door, which he had done. While he had waited, he had gone out on the balcony, wondering if it would be possible to shimmy down the drainpipe and onto the trellis to get out of the house, if it were necessary. He had just about decided to try it when Claymore had pulled up in front of the house an hour later, making some remark about why didn't he just leap over the side?

"Just get up here and let me out." Daniel had answered back. "I was supposed to be at the school board meeting, half an hour ago."

"Still don't understand how you can be on the school board if you don't have kids," Claymore had grumbled, but did enter the house, and open the bedroom door. "What seems to be the problem with it?" he had jiggled the knob.

"The knob is stuck and needs to be replaced." Daniel had answered, somewhat irritably. "I don't suppose, I could ask you to call the locksmith in Keystone and have it installed while I'm in Boston this weekend?"

"I don't suppose you could," Claymore had sniffed. "Unless of course..?"

"The price is right," the captain had finished for him. "Of course, I will compensate you for your time." Then he had turned to go. The wind coming from the open French doors had blown the bedroom door shut; Daniel heard it do so before he had gotten all the way downstairs. But apparently Claymore had thought he was alone and ran at the door, full stop, not realizing that Daniel was turning the knob on the other side, and the result had been the same — Claymore huddled on the balcony in the middle of two Fichus trees that Daniel had bought and put in pots just that week. But after that, nothing was even remotely the same.

Yes, Claymore had suffered a slipped disk, but Daniel had insisted that he be taken home after the doctor gave his assessment. He had taken Claymore to his home, laid him in bed, making sure he was comfortable, and even hired a nurse for him. His cousin had done nothing to show his thankfulness, and had even threatened to sue. To make matters worse, when Daniel returned from Boston that following Monday, there was a restraining order that greeted him. He wasn't to come within one hundred feet of the said Claymore Gregg and he had been fine with that. But that hadn't been enough for Claymore; and in the end, had been the result that Daniel packed his things and left for Boston, indefinitely.

Indefinitely had turned into five years. He had resigned his job at Schooner Bay Area High School and had taken the position at Winthrop, where he had quickly settled in, becoming a favorite teacher.

He felt better knowing why he had left Schooner Bay and Gull Cottage, even if it didn't make much sense to him. He had never let Claymore bully him, which meant that he must have wanted to leave in the first place. He loved to travel and find adventure, but even then, he would dream of a place that was uniquely his, a place that he could come home, to spend quiet hours walking along the beach, reading, and getting to know himself. When he had first decided to build Gull Cottage, he talked of nothing else for weeks; Brendan had teased him that he loved the not-yet-built-home more than he did Vanessa. Vanessa! Surely she had something to do with all of this — but what?

Drinking the last cup of coffee in the pot, he opened the window, letting the fresh sea air into the room, breathing it in deeply. It was obvious he had been a lonely man in this new life, and someone had known he needed to meet the one who could change that — Carolyn. And if he had not left Schooner Bay, she and her husband could not have moved into Gull Cottage. But why was he given this new life? And did it matter if he never found out?

The clock struck the time and he set down his empty cup. He did know one thing; Carolyn Muir at this very moment was at Gull Cottage, waiting for him and he was a fool to stay away. It would be very hard not to sweep her in his arms the minute he saw her. His body and soul ached for her, and he knew they had for a very long time. Closing the window to keep the cold outside, he put on his coat and scarf, and then headed out into the night for another evening at Gull Cottage.

Ooooooooooooooo

"Why do grownups kiss like that?" Candy asked Martha as the housekeeper settled her in for the night.

"Kiss like that how?" the older woman, smiled.

"All the time, with their tongues hanging out and acting like it's the most important thing in the world."

"You aren't old enough to know what they do with their tongues." Martha was trying not to laugh, "And it is the most important thing in the world when you're in love. Do you remember your mother and father kissing?"

"I do, a little," she nodded. "They didn't so much the last couple of years; Daddy felt so awful I guess. But yeah, they were always being mushy."

"Well, same with her and Captain Gregg. They love one another and want to kiss."

"Martha?" Her eyes looked like question marks. "If Mama and Daddy loved one another and were given to each other by the angels like Daddy said, then how can she be in love with Captain Gregg?"

It was a question she wished someone else could answer, but she couldn't let it go without a response. "Kids really do say the darnedest things don't they?" she chuckled. "Or at least ask the darnedest questions. "Well..." she thought about the words she wanted to say before letting them go. "God knows that your Mama and Daddy loved one another very much and He knows that they were very happy together and had two beautiful children, but God also knows that your mother is very lonely without your father. And even though she loves you and Jonathan and Scruffy, she needs that special kind of love that only a man can give her."

"Like a husband or a boyfriend?" Jonathan asked from his bed. They had thought him asleep, but apparently it wasn't so.

"Yes, exactly that," Martha nodded. "And so, God made love to be able to be used for more than just one person. Your mother loved your father and she always will, but now some of her love will be for Captain Gregg," (hopefully) she thought, "and he will love her in return. God made people that way, so they wouldn't' have to be alone."

"I don't want mommy to be alone," Candy said gravely as she settled her head on the pillow. "I never really thought she was with all of us here, but now I see what you mean."

"Me, too, " Jonathan nodded. "I want Mom to be happy."

"That's good." Martha went over and pulled his covers up. "But remember, she wants you to be happy, too. And with that in mind — what do you think about Captain Gregg?"

"He's groovy!" Candy said, her eyes lighting up when she smiled. "He's handsome and nice and he listens to us."

"He's the best," Jonathan agreed. "I always knew he would come back, and he did."

"Whatever are you talking about, Jonathan?" the housekeeper asked. "I swear, you might as well be a writer, too, all the things and ideas floating through your head."

"Jonathan keeps saying that Captain Gregg is really the one downstairs in the portrait and that he used to live here with us, until he left. But that now he's back, only he's human."

"You really are going to be a writer aren't you?" Martha couldn't help but laugh, although not as hard as she wanted to. "Enough imaginings for tonight. Your mother will be up in a bit to kiss you good night. Daniel Gregg seems to be a kind, decent man who cares for you and your mother, not to mention he gave us one of the nicest washer and dryers I've ever seen. And for that, we can all be thankful." And with a smile for each child, she was out the door.