"A few days later. Aunt Flora came to visit. When she hugged me, I saw this picture of her sitting at her kitchen table crying. I didn't understand it. Later, I overheard my aunt and my mother talking. My cousin had dropped out of high school and my aunt was terribly upset."
"And there was no way you could have known that."
"No."
"Did you tell your mom?"
"No. I was afraid of the pictures when they came and uncomfortable with the feelings. I kept it a secret until I was sixteen."
They reached the vending stand. Gillian ordered chili and cornbread while Nathan asked for an enchilada. She opened her purse, but he closed his hand over hers. Her skin was soft and warm and a jolt of desire more powerful than before stabbed him. "I've got it," he said, unable to keep the husky rasp from his voice.
Her gaze met his. The sparks of gold in the brown told him his touch affected her as much as hers affected him. She pulled away, and he let go.
Gillian busied herself pulling napkins from the holder while Nathan paid for and carried their plates to a bench. Picking up their sodas, she joined him. She'd no sooner settled on the bench with her soda by her shoe and the cup of chili with a wedge of cornbread perched on the edge in her hand when the schnauzer she'd seen earlier ran over to her and jumped up and down, finally landing with her paws on Gillian's knees.
Gillian laughed and held her dish a little higher, out of the dog's reach. "You might want supper, but I'm not sure you should have this."
One of the roller-bladers came skating over, his helmet under his arm, a leash dangling from his hand. "Sorry if she's botherin' you. She begs from everybody."
The boy was about twelve. His spiked brown hair was matted down from his helmet, his snapping brown eyes sparkled with amusement. Gillian asked him, "Can she have a bite?"
He grinned. "If you wanna give it to her."
Gillian tried to tear off a piece of the cornbread, but it slid into the chili. Nathan grabbed the dish and held it for her. Smiling her thanks, she took the small bite from the wedge and let the dog lick it from her hand. The schnauzer gulped it down and looked up at her for more. Laughing again, Gillian scratched the pet behind her ears. "I should have known that little bit wouldn't be enough."
As she touched the dog and rubbed her rough coat, Gillian felt her gaze pulled to the teenager again. He and the dog were connected by a strong bond of affection. A surge of energy made her fingers tingle and she automatically closed her eyes for a moment. A clear picture of a dark-haired woman on a porch came into focus. The woman was worried. Gillian had the distinct impression she was the boy's mother.
Opening her eyes, Gillian cast a wary look at Nathan. He was watching her closely. Should she say something to the boy about his mother? If she did, Nathan would know what had happened. Why had this vision come now? Since she'd left Indiana, she'd felt normal--no pictures, no knowledge she shouldn't have.
Gillian looked at the boy, knowing she couldn't let the woman in her mind's eye suffer unnecessarily. "I think your dog wants a full-course meal."
"What time is it?" he asked with a nod at Gillian's watch.
"Five-thirty."
"Geez. I was supposed to be home an hour ago. Mom's gonna be..." He stopped with a shrug as if a boy his age shouldn't worry about adult authority. Snapping the leash onto the dog's collar, he gave it a gentle tug. "C'mon, Peanut. We'll get us both some supper." He smiled at Gillian and skated over to his friends, who sat on the curb sipping sodas.
Nathan handed Gillian her plate. "What happened?"
"You saw what happened. I gave the dog a snack."
"When you touched the dog, you closed your eyes."
The man was too observant. "The boy's mother was worried about him."
"You felt that?"
"I saw that. She was standing on the porch waiting for him."
"You got that from petting the dog?" Nathan asked, astonished.
She'd faced expressions like his many times in the past. "Mr. Bradley..."
"Nathan," he reminded her.
Calling him by his first name seemed too familiar. She already knew she could be attracted to him. "This 'talent' I have isn't something I can turn off and on like a light switch. It's more unpredictable than the weather or earthquakes."
"You made him realize she was worried without saying it, without telling him you knew."
"That was easiest."
Nathan finished his enchilada and took a swig of soda before he spoke again. "My ex-wife took my daughters out of the country six months ago. I can't find them. My P.I. can't find them. Will you take my case?"
BUY: http://www.amazon.com/Nathans-Vow-Search-Love-ebook/dp/B005EZCK54/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1314917568&sr=1-1
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