"Where are those insurance forms?" Jonas muttered as he searched through piles of catalogs, folders and swatches.

"I think I saw them somewhere." Natalie answered distractedly. She didn't know why but her mind kept wandering back to the dream she had the night before, even though she couldn't recall a single detail. The emotions of the dream were still very real and she couldn't just put them out of her mind.

"Well, where did you put them?"

"I didn't say I put them anywhere. I said I saw them somewhere." She said. "Did you look on your desk?"

"Desk, what desk? I used to have a desk, damn thing cost more than this entire building is worth, now I have a door lying across two sawhorses."

"So, you checked?"

Jonas muttered some expletives under his breath as he rifled through the papers on his desk in a futile attempt to locate the papers he knew weren't there. "Is this how you filed things at that police station because it's a wonder every criminal . . .?"

"The police station had actual filing cabinets." She pointed out. She noticed Curran motioning toward her and she glanced down, realizing she had picked up the insurance forms with the mail she had picked up earlier. Jonas had turned his attention to the old milk crate that was serving as their filing cabinet. She quietly placed the papers on his desk and the innocently resumed sorting the mail.

Jonas spotted the papers the moment he turned around and he glared at them. "Don't' think I don't know what you are up to."

"Maybe it was fairies?" Natalie suggested.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Jonas. It's barely nine o'clock and you're all ready sniping. You're going to give yourself an ulcer."

Jonas stopped short when he saw Abigail Cummings step into the building. "It's not my digestive track in question."

"No doubt those nice young men in their clean white coats will be coming to take you away soon enough." Abigail responded.

"What are you doing here anyway? She knows people in the police department. I could get a retsraining order, maybe even have you shot."

"I asked her to come by." Natalie said. "She has pictures of the old theater and I asked her if I could see them so behave yourself."

"Would you like me to confine myself to the basement like an idiot relative?"

"Could you?"

"I don't know what good those will be. Pictures so old that she has them probably had to be carved out of a cave somewhere"

"Well, Captain Caveman, you're in these pictures too.

"Really?" Natalie and Curran leaned over her shoulder eagerly.

"Wow, that's Jonas." Natalie studded the picture of the young Jonas. He was clean shaven and his hair was dark. He wasn't smiling and there was an aloof almost scornful air in the way that he was observing the people around them, as if he were above it all. But the camera had caught something in his eyes, something vulnerable and seeking that made Natalie feel close to him. She understood what it was to be on the outside of something you desperately wanted to be a part of.

""The theater was so much fun then." Abigail said fondly. "The people in this neighborhood didn't have a lot of money but they were close and this theater was much more than a place to come and watch movies. It was a part of the community. They used to hold plays here and have live music. All done by people right here in this area."

"They were able to do all of that in a movie house?" Curran asked.

"There was a big stage in front of the movie screen and . . . Oh, Jonas, the stage. Did you forget about the stage?"

"I did not forget about the stage." Jonas snapped. "I am not yet senile in spite of the best efforts of my two assistants."

"Wait a minute." Natalie said as she turned the pages in the photo album. "This looks like a picture of you and Jonas together. I mean like together, together."

"Oh, yes, Jonas and I were an item." She announced, looking over Jonas shoulder and shaking her head. "No, no that fabric would be all wrong for the curtain." She said taking it out of his hands.

"So, what happened?" Natalie asked, curiously. "Did you break it off?"

"No, he dumped me." She answered simply as she continued to change or rearrange everything he had been working on.

"He dumped you? Why?"

"Because she was just as much a domineering old nag then as she is now." He finally snapped, pushing his chair away from the desk.

"Jonas." Natalie said, surprised by his outburst.

"What? Aren't you afraid she might take over your job around here?"

Natalie's face flushed as Jonas words hit a nerve. "Maybe she was just trying to help you and you're just too much of an ass to figure it out." She snapped and tossed the mail to the side before walking out. She was immediately embarrassed by her outburst and she sat down on the tailgate of one of the workman's trucks.

Curran joined her a few minutes later. He leaned against the truck beside her but didn't say a word.

"I don't want to talk about it" she said and he just nodded. They sat in silence for a long moment. "I just don't think I know how to do this. I thought I did. I thought I had learned. I mean, I didn't have the first clue of what it meant to love someone else when I first moved here. I knew I wanted my family to accept me and love me but I always did it wrong. I always screwed it up." She said, barely taking a breath. "And look at him. He grew up with a loving family and he hasn't exactly got it down either. I know I don't want to be that person, that person who makes him feel trapped, that makes him cringe whenever I walk into a room, who goes around acting like a crazy person picking fights with a psychiatrist. I just thought that when you loved someone you took care of them and you helped them, you do things for them. If you don't how else can you make them love you." The words poured out too quickly, before she could think about them, before she could stop them and she was left shaken.

Curran moved in front of her, holding her eyes with his own, looking so deeply into her that it was almost like a physical touch. . "You don't have to "make" anyone love you, Natalie. It's easy. It's very, very easy and it always was." He held her gaze until her hands stopped shaking and she felt like she could breathe again.

"We got a letter from Perry." He said, handing her the letter and hopping onto the back of the truck beside of her. And just like that he was able to put her careening world back on track and make everything feel normal again.

"Really? How are they?" She asked, even as she started reading the letter.

'Pretty good. I think he's still worried about Sarah though."

"Well, I guess having her Aunt Becky come back home was . . ." She lowered the letter in disbelief. "He still hasn't told her. He hasn't even bought the urn."

"He says he can't find anything that looks like Aunt Becky."

"Looks like . . . it's an urn, not a designer dress. He just doesn't want to deal with it. He's just going to leave her there behind the Yoo Hoos gathering cobwebs."

Curran stepped down from the truck and reached out his hand to her. "Well, I guess you're just going to have to straighten him out."

"Maybe, I will." She said, glad that he was walking back in with her after the fool she had made of herself.

"You should never pick fights with a psychiatrist." He said as they walked back inside. "You can never win. They have an answer for everything."

Hey, I'm so screwed up I have to have two mothers to blame my problems on." She laughed and only then realized that she was still holding his hand. She quickly pulled her hand away and returned to her job. Jonas and Abigail hadn't let her outburst put a dent in their bickering and they had moved on to the marquee.

"What is the point in picking out the lettering until I know what I'm going to call the place anyway?"

"You're not going to use the original name?" Abigail said

"No, I want something different."

"The Palace." She suggested

"It's all ready taken."

"Capitol,"

"Too generic. I want something that will really fit my vision for this place, a place that captures the essence of the place. "

"Jonas's Little Shop of Horrors."

"Very funny. What about you? Any ideas?" He asked Natalie.

Natalie glanced at Curran and he smiled. She thought of the way he enjoyed every little thing about life and how attuned he was to other peoples feelings. He had a natural instinct about what people needed, like the way he was always able to make her feel better and the name just came out. "Paladin."

"What?'

"The Paladin. That's what we call this place."


"Natalie was curled up on the couch, lost in thought when John got home that night. "Hey." He greeted her.

"Hey. I didn't expect you so early."

He smiled a little and shrugged. "Everything okay? Rough day?" He asked, reading something in her face.

"It had its moments but everything's okay now."

"What are you reading? The classifieds?" He asked, nodding toward the newspaper clipping Perry had included in his letter.

She wondered why he would think she was looking in the classifieds but didn't pursue it." "It's an article about a mule crossing." She explained with a smile.

"Well, apparently a mule drawn wagon was attempting to cross a bridge when the mule got spooked and went over the edge. The mule got caught in its harness and was left dangling about thirty feet in the air."

"You're kidding me right?"

"Nope."

"Don't leave me in suspense here. How did they get the mule down?"

"They cut him loose."

"Cut him loose? If they just cut him loose didn't he . . ."

"Don't worry the mule only suffered minor injuries in the fall."

"That's a relief. Let me see that." John took the clipping and read it for himself, shaking his head. "I think that may be the most "assinine" thing I've ever heard."

"Oh, John."

"That was pretty bad, wasn't it?"

They both laughed but the moment seemed to pass too quickly and they found themselves with nothing to say to each other. There was a time, before the accident, when that wouldn't have mattered. They had been able to just be together with no words passing between them but now the silence was awkward.

"Well, I think I' going to jump in the shower." John finally said.

"Yeah, I've got some things I need to be working on." She lied.

She listened to the sound of the running water and thought to herself that Curran had been wrong. Love was hard. It was very, very hard.


Abigail was quickly becoming a permanent fixture at the theater. She would show up nearly everyday to offer her advice and force her opinions on Jonas, whether he wanted them or not. Natalie had noticed that in spite of his grumbling he often took her advice and he had never asked her to leave. Not really anyway, and now their bickering had become a normal, almost soothing backdrop to the workday.

"Jonas, would you come take a look at the colors were considering for the women's bathroom," Abigail called.

"Fine." He muttered distractedly, reaching out a hand for the swatch."

"No, I want you to come in here. You'll be able to judge better if you can see where the colors are actually going."

"I can't go in there." He looked appalled at the suggestion.

"Why not?"

"It's the women's bathroom."

"Not yet, it's still under renovation. Who do you think is going to be in there?" She laughed.

"I'm sure that you've noticed that ever since you, the Irish rover and his lady over there have come into my life I know very little about what is going on around here. There could be squatters in there for all I know."

"There is no reason to be vulgar."

"I'm not being . . . oh never mind. Let's just say I have a fear of women's bathrooms and leave it at that."

"Don't be absurd."

"Absurd? Then why do you always go in there in packs."

She rolled her eyes and pulled him into the bathroom, holding the two swatches against the wall. "This one is Dusty Rose and this one is Victorian Rose." She looked at him expectantly.

Jonas shrugged. "They're both pink. I realize that it is a little risky to go with pink in a woman's bathroom but I have every confidence in your ability to make this decision on your own."

"They are not pink. Dusty rose or Victorian rose."

"My dear, a rose by any other name is still pink."

"You are the most obnoxious, infuriating ass of a man" She said, marching out of the bathroom "What about red roses, or yellow roses. There are even blue roses. Did you know that?" She called back over her shoulder. "Afraid of bathrooms."

Natalie glanced up at Curran and held up two fingers. He looked after Abigail thoughtfully, who was still muttering under her breath and held up three fingers. They had developed a point system to Judge Jonas and Abigail's arguments. Abigail usually won but today Jonas appeared to be in a particularly good mood today and was so far leading in points."

"You two." He called to them. "I have an errand for you. I bought some vintage posters and a few other items from this gentleman. I need you to go pick them up."

"This is two hours away." Natalie said, reading the address he handed her.

"Then you'd better get started."

"It's just posters why do we both have to go?" She asked

Jonas sighed. "Just once can't we pretend that I'm the boss and you're my employee? You know, I'll ask you to do something for me and you just do it without questioning me. Humor me."

Natalie glanced at Curran and smiled. "Can we take your car?"

"You have a car."

"But you have a convertible. Come on you never even put the top down. Please."

"It's a beautiful day, Jonas. If you're going to make them drive all that way then the least you could do is let them take your car." Abigail interceded and he reluctantly handed over his keys.

"Thanks Abigail." Natalie said as they walked out. "So what do you think? Was that worth five points?"

They stepped outside and saw the shiny black Jaguar "Oh, I think we should just go ahead and declare her the winner." Curran grinned.


Natalie wondered again why they had to make the trip together but the truth was she didn't really mind. She had grown to really enjoy working in the theater but it was nice to get out on such a beautiful day. Besides, she really needed the distraction. John wanted to have dinner that night, to talk about what was gong on between them and she couldn't help but fear the worse. She tried to imagine what it would be like to hear him say that he didn't want to see her anymore. The worst part was knowing that if he said those words she wouldn't be able to hold on to her pride. She knew she would fall apart.

She pushed all of those thoughts from her mind and reclined her seat, feeling the warm air on her face and listening to Curran quietly sing alone with the radio. She realized she hadn't felt so relaxed, so . . . unburdened in a long time and she felt herself drifting off, waking up only when she heard Curran utter a soft "Uh Oh."

She opened her eyes and looked around at . . . nothing. They were in the middle of nowhere. "You're lost, aren't you?"

"Oh, yeah."

"A man who actually admits when he's wrong?

"I keep trying to tell you that I am a man of rare virtues. You really should snatch me up while you have the chance." He grinned.

"Just hand me the map, Columbus." She studied the map in confusion for a long moment. "I don't get it. According to the map we should be in the right place."

Curran shrugged. "Well, the sun is shining, Gladys Knight is on the radio, and I'm with you. If you've got to be lost I think I could handle this for another lifetime or so."

"I'd better call John and tell him there's a very good chance I'm going to be late." She ignored his last remark and pulled out her cell phone. She wasn't surprised when all she got was his voice mail. "Hey, John, it's me. I just wanted to let you know I may be . . . What the hell is that?"

Natalie looked over at Curran who was also observing the oncoming "vehicle" with curiosity. She was relieved because at first she thought she was hallucinating.

"That is a plane." He finally answered. "A biplane maybe?"

"Well, yeah, it's a plane but . . ." she looked at him questioningly and he shrugged.

"Maybe he's looking for the interstate." He said and she laughed. "Do you want to follow it?" He asked as they watched the plane turn on to a secondary road."

"Follow it?"

"Sure, aren't you curious?"

She realized that she was still connected to John's voice mail. She quickly told him she would have to call him back and snapped the phone shut. "Cabbie, follow that plane."

They followed the plane about half a mile to a building that looked like a small hanger that had been converted into a store. Curran laughed and pointed to the sign as they realized that this was the place they had been looking for. The pilot waked over to meet them.

"I hope I didn't scare you." He greeted them with a friendly but slightly embarrassed smile. "The road is usually pretty deserted this time of day. I hope you won't turn me in to the FAA. They're a little tense these days."

"I think we can keep this between ourselves." Curran shook his proffered hand. "I'm Curran, this is Natalie and we are intrigued."

"Richard Boone." He laughed. "I actually bought the plane and the hanger from a man who used to run a small flight school out here. I've always been a collector of sorts, no one particular thing just whatever catches my imagination. It was my wife's idea to turn the place into a store. The best of both worlds really. I now get to make my living buying and selling the things I love. And the plane, well, I only live about three miles from here and everyone needs a gimmick. Right?"

He led them into his cluttered ship. He had accumulated a wide variety of antiques and memorabilia that ranged from the sophisticated to the whimsical. "My wife says my tastes aren't so much eclectic as they are schizophrenic." He said as he showed them around his shop.

"Natalie, check it out." Curran led her excitedly to the back of the building that was entirely dedicated to a collection of coin operated rides that used to frequent grocery stores and shopping centers. "I think I love this place."

"You would."

"So, who was your favorite?"

"Thunder, of course." She said, resting a hand fondly on the mechanical horse. "They had one of these in front of some convenience store in AC. I used to pretend that I could ride away from Jersey to some magical kingdom." She said with just a trace of sadness in her voice.

"We could go now. Anywhere you want to go." He said moving as if to straddle the small horse.

She laughed and grabbed his arm. "Come on, you. Haven't you ever heard of the 'you break it, you buy it rule"

They spent over an hour browsing through his store and they even found a vintage popcorn machine which they made an executive decision on and added to Jonas bill."

"Is there anything else?" Richard asked.

"Do you ever do special orders?" Natalie asked.

"I suppose. What did you have in mind?"

"An urn."

"An urn? Aren't you a little young for . . ."

"Oh, no, it's not for me." Natalie corrected him hastily. "It's for Aunt Becky."

"Okay, but wouldn't a funeral home be more of a logical choice."

"Normally, but Aunt Becky was . . .

"Unique." Curran supplied the word.

Right, she was well traveled."

"She had a great sense of humor."

"She lived life to the fullest and she needs something that will fit her. She can't have just any ordinary urn."

"I see." He laughed. "I'll keep my eye out for something that would be perfect for Aunt Becky." He promised.

Natalie left her number with Richard and they finally started the drive back to Llanview.

"Hey, we have a message from Jonas." Curran said. "He says he forgot to tell us that the fuel gauge isn't working on the car and we should . . ." he didn't even finish the sentence before the car came to a shuddering halt.


Natalie was sitting on the back of the car seat, steering with her feet, as Curran pushed. "He didn't forget." She fumed. "The mean old bastard did this on purpose."

"Well, in his defense Jonas didn't know we would take his car."

"Don't defend him. This is like what, a forty thousand dollar car. Who doesn't get the fuel gauge fixed on their forty grand Jaguars?"

"He's been busy and he doesn't drive much."

"You know if you would talk a little less you might be able to push a little faster."

"Yes, M'lady." He puffed.

"I don't even believe this." She said as she looked behind them. A moment later they were being passed by an Amish gentleman in a horse drawn carriage. He tipped his hat and smiled as he clopped by.

Natalie gave him a short wave. "Smug ass . . ."

"Natalie!" Curran admonished with a laugh.

"We have a hill." She told him. Curran gave the car a final shove before jumping into the back. Natalie slid down into the seat as the car began to pick up speed.

"Gas station." Curran pointed out and with the amount of speed they were gaining they should have easily been able to coast into the parking lot.

"What the hell?" Natalie stared into the rear view mirror in disbelief as a police car fell in behind them and turned on their lights. The car pulled along side of them and the officer motioned for her to pull the car over. She pointed toward the gas station but he motioned more aggressively for them to pull over, even swinging over into the lane in front of them so she would have no choice but to stop. They couldn't have been more than a couple of hundred yards away from the gas station.

The officer got out of his car and stepped up to the driver's side. "Is there a problem, officer?" She asked, unable to keep the irritation out of her voice.

"Are you aware that you were speeding, miss?"

She laughed out loud, thinking surely he was joking but he gave her a stern look. "The car's not even running. We ran out of gas and . . ."

"This is a fifteen mile per hour zone. You were doing twenty-five."

Natalie gave Curran a confused look but he just gave her a smug grin. "Twenty- five miles an hour and you say push faster."

"That wasn't you. That was gravity." She snapped.

"Sir, we were just trying to make it to the gas station and I couldn't very well slow down for . . ."

"Carriage crossing."

"Excuse me?"

"He pointed to a sign at the bottom of the hill that warned of a carriage crossing. The picture tauntingly resembling the Amish man who had passed them.

"Do you think I'll get Ashton Kutcher's autograph?" Natalie asked, thinking surely this was some elaborate joke.

She turned back to the officer realizing that he was now looking suspiciously into the backseat of the car. It suddenly occurred to Natalie that he might find it unusual for them to be riding around in the middle of nowhere hauling a cumbersome popcorn machine in the backseat of a luxury car.

"We have the receipts for all of that, officer." She explained, quickly. "We just bought them at this shop. You know the one where the guy drives his plane to work. Really nice guy, he's even going to find us an urn that fits Aunt Becky. She winced as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She saw Curran smother a grin out of the corner of her eye and wondered if it would be worth risking assault charges at this point.

"Drives his plane to work, huh. Would you mind stepping out of the car for me, miss?"


The lights were still on in the theater when they finally pulled up outside. "He's still here. Good, because I'm going to kill him. I'm just going to kill him and I'm not even going to feel bad about it." She was fuming as she threw open the door of the theater but she saw something that stopped her in her tracks, her angry words frozen by shock. Curran put his arm around her waist and pulled her back out the door.

They stood there in silence for a long moment but Natalie realized that his arms were still around her and she pulled away. She turned to face him and when their eyes met they both burst into laughter.

"I guess now we know why it was so important we go together. He had this planned the whole time." Curran said.

"It's like walking in on your parents." Natalie shuddered.

"Do you want to go get something to eat?"

"You still have an appetite after that."

"You weren't pushing a two ton car, uphill, both ways." He grinned.

"Wussy." She teased. "Fine. I'll take you to Rodi's. A few pitchers of beer should help erase that image from my mind." She said as she climbed back into the Jaguar.

"Shouldn't we . . ."

"No way, I know exactly how much gas is left in this car and I know exactly when to return it to him."


"Hey, John, it's me." Mike's voice came over the line and John shut his eyes, guessing why his brother was calling. "I was just wondering how you were doing?"

"I'm fine, Mike. How's the head?"

"Just peachy but I was calling because I wanted to know how things went with Natalie tonight."

"I haven't had a chance to talk to her. She called to say she was running late or something." He said, irritated that his annoyance showed. They were supposed to talk that night and get some things cleared up, finally, but she had called with that absurd message. He had things he needed to get cleared up in his life and he didn't like being put on hold. "Anyway, there was this mess at the Palace so I don't think it's going to happen tonight."

"And when it does? Are we talking good new or bad news?"

"Natalie will be the first to know what I decide." He answered shortly and he heard Michael's derisive laugh on the other end. "What was that supposed to mean?"

"It's just that you're acting like you're the only one who has a say in this, John. You keep holding her at arms length while you try to decide just what it is that you want to do with her and you may discover that she has come to some conclusion of her own."

"Thanks for the advice, Dr. Phil." He said and snapped the phone shut.

He looked around his empty and quiet room, doing something he hadn't done in a long time. He waited on Natalie.


"Reckless driving! Can you believe that?" Natalie said, tossing the paper down n the table "The car wasn't even running. I was reckless steering."

"Yes, but when you took the drunk test you walked that straight line very gracefully." He said. "And how you can recite the alphabet backwards without stopping I'll never know."

"Skills I acquired at the knees of my first mother." She said and they laughed.

"You do know this is all your fault." She told him.

"My fault?"

"Yes. There's something about you that makes these things happen. I had a perfectly normal life until . . ."

"Oh, please, shall we go through the list."

"Okay, so maybe not normal but now it's like my life is being scripted by the ACME Corporation. I go around watching the sky for plummeting anvils. We are talking about positively biblical here. Complete with the lion lying down with the lamb."

"So, what, do you think I somehow arranged our beautiful day?"

"See, I knew you thought it was fun, because you are not right." She told him. "And yes I do think you somehow arranged it. The question is why?" She asked in a sinister voice.

He leaned close to her. "Maybe, I did it to protect you."

"Protect me?"

"Yes. Maybe I swept you away to protect you from a far worse fate than discourteous Amish drivers and one of a kind speeding tickets." He said. His words light but his eyes soft and sincere "There is nothing I wouldn't do to protect you."

"Do you know what's crazy?" She whispered. "I believe you."


Natalie let herself into John's room and was surprised to find that he was home. He had fallen asleep on the couch and she gently took a blanket from the bed and put it over him. She watched him sleep for a few minutes, wishing the peace he found in slumber could transcend to the waking hours.

She eventually left his side and laid down on the bed. She didn't think at first she would ever fall asleep after all the excitement of the day but she soon drifted off.

The noise and commotion below them made the breath catch in her throat. She turned to study his face and saw that look of determination and fearlessness that she had seen so often on this trip, although she had never been able to admit it to him or herself. She had come to rely on him and even to trust him. He had given her his word that he would see her safely through this journey and she knew that he would never break his word, never, but . . .

The thundering sound below them made her start and she reached out her hand to him impulsively. "I don't want you to do this."

She opened her eyes and had no idea where she was. The dark and unfamiliar room made it impossible to breathe at first but slowly John's voice made its way into her consciousness

"Natalie, hey, what's going on?" He asked, gently. She finally allowed him to pull her into his arms and he stroked her hair. "It's okay. You're okay." He whispered soothingly.

"I'm sorry." She finally said as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Don't be sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

She laughed. "That's the crazy thing. I don't have any idea what happened. I was dreaming but I don't remember it at all."

He crawled into bed beside her. He had been angry earlier. Now all he wanted to do was hold her and make whatever bad dreams were making her cry in her sleep go away. He just prayed he wasn't the one causing them.