Jett knew what to do. He reached into his pocket and drew out his wallet. "Take it. Just take it and go."

Kayla's breath caught in her throat as the figure turned to her. "You too, girlie." The name had a sinister ring to it.

She numbly gave him her little wallet. She knew that safety came first. Give them what they wanted and they'd leave you alone.

But this wasn't the case, not this time. A blade glinted in the light, and everything moved in slow motion, the upward swing of the robber's arm, the swift downward stroke, her scream...

Kayla reeled. This wasn't real. The figure disappeared and Kayla collapsed. Jett was screaming, and Kayla came to. Red was flowing from her side, she realized. Blood! She was bleeding. And then the blinding pain hit her like a ton of bricks.

"JETT!!" Her scream startled even her.

She felt him kneel beside her. "Oh, god. Someone call 911! Help!"

People opened their doors and ran out. An older woman was holding a cordless phone and dialed 911. "Somebody got stabbed," she reported to the operator. "It's Greene and Fargo."

"The police are coming," someone said to Jett, but he didn't hear them. All he saw and heard was Kayla, the beautiful magical love of his life, sprawled on the ground, helpless, bleeding.

The sheriff's car roared up, sirens blaring. Wood and Booker rushed out. "Oh, god, Jett! Kayla!" Wood rushed to his Kayla's side as the ambulance arrived. Booker took Jett aside and put him into the car, driving alongside the ambulance that held Kayla and Wood, to the hospital.

Jett waited in numb shock as Wood, tears streaking his face, made his report to the doctors. Kayla was taken into surgery immediately. Booker sat with Wood and Jett, silent and grave.

"I'm just calling to see how everyone is." A female voice disturbed the silence of the waiting room. Booker looked up from where he sat and his eyes fell on one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Not a girl, he realized upon further inspection. She was at most two years younger than him. "I'm in the waiting room now, Jimmy. Mom's in surgery."

He vaguely recognized her, and her curious glance back at him as she talked into her cell phone made him wonder.

"Mr. Jackson?" Wood and Jett turned identical gazes on the woman. A nurse was standing in the doorway. It had been almost two hours since they arrived, and by now it was almost nine at night. Kate and Victor West were on their way, frantic with worry about both Jett and Kayla.

"You can see her now. She's out of surgery." The nurse led them down the hallway and upstairs to the third floor, and into room 387, where Kayla was asleep, oxygen tubes in her nose and countless IV's running from her arms. Jett's eyes filled at this sight, despite his furious resolution to be a man. There was nothing strong about the way he felt now.

Wood stood next to the bed as Jett collapsed into a chair. Booker stood in the door, not sure whether he belonged in this.

"I'm going to call the station and tell them I won't be in tomorrow," Wood said after a long moment. He sensed his son might need a little support. He gestured to Booker to follow him, and both men left the room. Jett slid the chair closer to the bed and put his hand in Kayla's.

"I had a great time tonight," he said softly, not sure if she could hear him. "I've wanted to do that for a long time, Kay. I was stupid. I never admitted it to you... or myself for that matter. I just... I was scared that you would laugh at me, or worse, that you would hate me."

Kayla's breathing was even; she was asleep. The steady pulsing of the heart monitor confirmed her life. Jett waited for a long time, simply watching her sleep, wondering if she heard him, if she was in pain.

"Jett?" Miz Corretta's voice startled him. Jett turned, brushing away the streaks of tears on his cheeks. "I came right away, honey."

Jett looked up the older woman. "She's okay."

Miz Corretta looked down at her great-grandson. "I know."

"I'm scared, Nana," Jett said, biting his lip to keep from stem the tears. *Dammit, Jackson, be a MAN!*

"I mean, we were coming home from having dinner and I offered to walk her home, and we were going down Greene Street and someone just jumped out of the shadows. They robbed us and stabbed Kayla."

"The officers have already started investigating," Miz Corretta sighed. "I don't know how it'll turn out."

"It's weird," Jett's voice was a little steadier. "I was so happy... And you never think something like this would happen to you. It's always someone else, like on the news. It's unreal when it hits so close to home. Life was always simple here. It was school, work, home, friends. Nothing weird like this."

"Sometimes when you keep life in black and white, you miss the shades of gray," Miz Corretta said gently, remembering the time when she was a teenager caught in the storm of the 1925 Wilsted Fire, the one her father had been accused of setting. "Never overlook the little things, Jett. Every hug, every smile, that one could be one in a million that you may never have again."

Jett looked up at her, his eyes filling for the third time that night, and started to cry for real. But these were healthy tears, ones that would leave him feeling somewhat healed. Experience was a valuable thing, Miz Corretta reflected as she embraced her great-grandson and let him cry. He needed to.

"Kayla?" Kate and Victor were in the room. They moved to stand over their daughter. Wood and Booker came back into the room.

A groan came from the bed, and everyone turned to see Kayla open her eyes. Jett rushed to her, ignoring anything else.

"Kay," he whispered, hardly able to speak.

"Jett..." she managed through the tubes and medications that hazed her vision. Wood, Kate, Victor, and Miz Corretta surrounded them, smiling.

"How are you?" Jett asked softly.

"I don't know." Kayla whispered. "What happened?"

"Long story." Wood smiled down at Jett and then at Kayla. "We're just glad you're okay."

A half hour later, Booker had left the room to go to the cafeteria to get something to eat for everyone. Victor, Kate, Jett and Wood remained in the room, talking softly to each other, and Kayla.

Booker walked down the hall, not really paying attention to his surroundings. He didn't see who he was about to bump into.

"Oh," Her voice startled him as they collided. "I'm sorry." She crouched down at the same time to him to pick up her fallen bag. He looked up at her at the time she did, and found sapphire blue eyes and a shy smile as thick golden-brown hair cascaded down her back to her waist. "Sorry." He recognized the girl he had seen down in the waiting room.

"Sorry," Booker managed as they stood up.

She noticed his badge. "You're a deputy? You must be Sheriff Jackson's deputy, then."

"I am."

"Can you tell me where the cafeteria is? I've never been here. I'm completely lost." Her smile was disarming.

"I don't know actually," Booker admitted. "I haven't been here before either. But I'm on my way there anyway."

"Oh. Well, there goes the theory of asking a police officer for directions." She smiled to show she was joking. Booker laughed. "Well, let's look."

They walked down the hall side by side. People looked at them, and one lady commented on how good they looked together to her fellow nurse.

The girl overheard them and turned red. She looked up at the handsome deputy next to her. He was cute. And as they passed by a huge door in silver, they saw their reflections, she knew they were right. She was tall, five-seven to his six feet. Side by side, they did look good.

"Here," Booker said suddenly. "Cafeteria." He pointed to the large sign.

"By the way," she said as they got on the line. "I never got your name."