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He rubbed his chin. "I'll tell you what, Molly. The Stars are part of your family heritage, and you need to know something about the team. How about I ask Phoebe to bring you to practice some day after school next week? You can meet the players and learn a little bit about the game."

"You'd do that?"

"Sure."

The rush of gratitude she felt toward him blocked out her guilt. "Thank you. I'd like that very much."

At that moment Peg stuck her head in the door and scolded Molly for not being in bed. She said good-bye to Dan and returned to her room. After Peg left, she retrieved Mr. Brown from his hiding place and snuggled beneath the covers with him, even though she was much too old to be sleeping with a stuffed animal.

Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she heard a soft scratching at her door and smiled into her pillow. She couldn't open the door because she didn't want Phoebe to discover that she'd let Pooh into her bedroom. But, still, it was nice to be wanted.

Chapter 10

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As Phoebe looked down at the videotape that lay on the passenger seat next to her, she knew that showing up unannounced at Dan Calebow's house was the stupidest thing she'd ever done. But instead of turning Bert's Cadillac around and going back home, she peered through the glare of the headlights toward the side of the road trying to find the wooden mailbox that Krystal Greer had told her to watch for. As she looked, she rehearsed what she would say when she got there.

She would be very casual, tell Dan that Paul had shown up with the videotape not long after he'd left the party. She'd known Dan wanted to see the tape before he went to bed, and she'd decided to deliver it since it was such a beautiful night for a drive. No trouble, really.

She frowned. It was one o'clock in the morning, so maybe she shouldn't say anything about it being a beautiful night for a drive. Maybe she'd simply say she hadn't been sleepy and had felt like taking a drive to relax.

The truth was, she wanted to see him again before she lost her nerve. She had been deeply shaken by that moment when she'd felt such an overpowering urge to kiss him. Now she needed to see him alone, where they wouldn't be interrupted, to try to discover what those feelings meant.

She could come up with a million reasons she shouldn't be attracted to him, but none of those reasons explained the way he had made her feel tonight, as if her body were slowly coming alive. The sensation was both terrifying and exhilarating. He hadn't made any secret of the fact that he disliked her, but at the same time, she sensed he was attracted to her.

Without warning, she felt tears gathering in her eyes. For years she hadn't even let herself dream that something like this could happen. Was she being a fool or was there a chance she might be ready to reclaim her womanhood?

Her headlights picked up the wooden mailbox, and she blinked her eyes. There was no name on it, but the number was right, and she braked as she turned into the narrow, graveled country lane. The night was cloudy, with b

arely enough moonlight to reveal an old orchard. She drove across a small wooden bridge and around a gentle curve before she saw the lights.

The rambling stone farmhouse wasn't anything like the sleek bachelor's pad she had imagined. Built of wood and stone, it had three chimneys and a wing off to one side. Steps led up to an old-fashioned front porch that was surrounded by a spindled railing. In the welcoming light that glowed through the front windows, she saw that the shutters and front door were painted a pearly gray.

Her tires crunched in the gravel as she pulled up to the house and turned off the ignition. Abruptly, the exterior lights went out followed by the interior ones. She hesitated. She must have caught him just as he was going to bed. Still, he wasn't asleep yet.

Snatching the videotape up from the seat before she lost her nerve, she opened the car door and stepped out. An owl hooted in the distance, an eerie sound that made her even more uneasy. As she walked cautiously toward the front porch, she wished it weren't so dark.

Resting her hand on the railing, she gingerly climbed the four stone steps. In the thick darkness the chirp of the crickets sounded ominous instead of friendly, like creaking hinges in a haunted house. She couldn't find a doorbell, only a heavy iron knocker. She lifted it, then flinched as it hit with a dull thud.

Seconds ticked by, but no one answered. Growing increasingly nervous, she rapped again, then wished she hadn't because she knew she had made a terrible mistake. This was embarrassing. There was no way she could explain her presence. What had she been thinking of? She was going to slip away and—

She gasped as a hand clamped over her mouth. Before she could react, a powerful arm grabbed her around the waist from behind. All the blood drained from her head and her legs buckled as she found herself pinioned.

A menacing voice whispered in her ear. "I'm taking you into the woods."

She was paralyzed with fear. She tried to scream but she couldn't make a sound. It was just like the night when she was eighteen. Her feet left the ground, and he carried her down the steps as if she weighed nothing. Blackness and panic suffocated her. He dragged her toward the trees with his mouth pressed against her ear.

"Fight me," he whispered. "Fight hard, even though you know it won't do you any good."

The sound of that familiar accent penetrated her panic, and she realized it was Dan holding her captive! Her mind reeled. It was happening again! She had been attracted to him, flirted with him, and now he was going to rape her! Her paralysis unlocked. She couldn't let this happen to her a second time.

She began a desperate struggle for her freedom, kicking and trying to jab him with her elbows, but he was strong, so much stronger than she, with iron-hard muscles that had been shaped by years of physical conditioning. He hauled her into the woods as if she weighed no more than a child. She tried to scream, but the pressure of his hand on her mouth was merciless.

"That's good. You're putting up a good fight, sweetheart. You're making me work for it."

She bucked in his arms and tried to scream beneath his palm, but he held her fast. She could dimly make out a round wooden structure ahead, and as he dragged her closer, she saw that it was a gazebo.

"I'm going to give it to you good," he whispered. "Just the way you like it. Give you that hurt you want so bad." He hauled her up the steps through an arched opening in the ivy-covered latticed walls. He wasn't even breathing hard.

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