Once more, Sabrina turned over in her bed, wondering if sleep would ever come. Try as she might, she just

couldn't get the handsome reporter out of her mind.

Her father thought she was crazy at dinner when she'd asked to see the daily newspaper.

"What on earth do you want to read the newspaper for?" Jenny the maid asked. "Why, there's nothing in there

except for bad news and advertisements. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay far away from it!"

With a sigh, Sabrina resumed eating her dinner, wishing she'd never brought it up. She should have been

thrilled, sitting at the large dining room table next to David. After all, being asked to dine in the Larabee

mansion was a rare honor.

But she couldn't stop thinking about Joe Bradley.

"There's no harm in letting Sabrina read the newspaper." David said.

She looked at him and smiled, her heart warming at the way he'd spoken up for her.

"I-I'd just like to read an article. A human interest story." She told the family.

"Very well." Margaret said. "As long as your father doesn't mind."

"It's fine, Sabrina. I'll give you the paper after dinner."

A huge smile came over Sabrina's face as she rose from the chair and ran to hug him. "Oh, thank you so much,

Father!"

True to his word, the paper was waiting in her bedroom when she finished her bath. Within seconds she was

sitting on the window seat, devouring every beautifully written word.

Now she lay in bed, thinking about Mr. Bradley and how kind he'd been. The flowers he'd given her sat on the

vase by her dresser, illuminated by the light of the moon.

Finally when she could stand it no longer, she climbed out of bed and crossed the room to retrieve the

newspaper from the window seat.

From her rocking chair, she could see the moon, full and round through the window; the mysterious face smiling

at her as though he knew something that she didn't.

She couldn't help but wonder if somewhere; somehow, Mr. Bradley was looking at the same moon and thinking

of her as well.

She picked up the newspaper and read the article again;

Long Island Longings, he'd titled it.

He certainly had a way with words; written and spoken.

With a yawn, she smiled and put away the paper before climbing back into bed.

"Goodnight, Mr. Bradley... Wherever you are..."