Nick's palms moistened and his heart knocked a crazy rhythm as he stood at his mother's door. He'd never enjoyed their visits, but now he realized a lot of that had to do with his father's anger and embarrassment. Nick wanted to see her this time, and he looked forward to what she had to tell him. Would it have anything to do with Abby? He still wondered how he could have a future with a ghost who'd been dead since 1912, but he hadn't given up hoping something magical would happen to make his dreams come true.

After taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell. When the door opened, light from inside the house spilled onto the porch. His mother wore a yellow and green dress that covered her arms to her elbows, and most of her legs. White sandals laced across her stocking feet. The years had aged her, drawing lines around her mouth and eyes. Sadness still coated her eyes, the same way they had the last time he saw her. Guilt ate at his gut knowing he'd caused much of her heartache.

"Hello, Mom."

Her lips quivered as she returned his smile. "Please come in, Nick."

Knick-knacks decorated her front room, lining shelf upon shelf. Larger items sat on the floor next to a small television, and the worn sofas were covered with colorful afghans. Several rugs were scattered across the hardwood floor.

"Would you like to sit?" she asked.

He nodded and sat on the sofa he remembered hating as a boy. There was never anything for him to do when he visited his mother, just sit and read. She had never believed that the television was a good tool for helping to raise a child. Now he wished he had talked to her and gotten to know her better.

She paced the floor, squeezing one hand with the other. "It's good to see you. You've changed a little since I saw you in Hollywood."

"Yes, I think a lot about me has changed." He arched an eyebrow. "I realize now that I should have taken your advice about Leslie Blake. If I had, maybe my life wouldn't have been so hard."

"You wouldn't have learned so much if you'd listened," his mother said matter-of-factly as she sat next to him. "But I see something else in your eyes. You've suffered a lot, but I detect a bit of happiness. Am I correct?"

He grinned. "Yes, I'm happy now. I'm satisfied with the way I'm living." He grasped her hand and her eyes widened. "I've also found my soul mate, just as you told me I would."

Her breath hitched. "You have?"

"Yes, Mom. This woman traveled a long way to find me, just like you said."

"What's her name?"

"Abigail Carlisle."

"Tell me about her. What does she do? Where does she come from?"

Nick wanted to laugh. What did Abigail do besides hang around in a ghostly state and make him happy beyond measure? He definitely couldn't tell her she came from 1912. "Well, her father owns a newspaper, so she is an heiress in her own right."

"I'd love to meet her one day."

"I'd love for you to see her, too."

"If you care deeply for her, then I'm sure I'll love her."

"So, Mom," he said before taking a deep breath, "what do you need to tell me? Your phone call sounded urgent."

She stood and paced the floor again. "I know you've always thought me insane, but I'm not. I have a gift and I want to use it in helping people." She stopped by a shelf and straightened the knick-knacks that were already straightened from what he could see. "Lately, you have been on my mind, more now than usual." She turned and faced him. "I cannot see into your future very far, which worries me a bit, but I can sense how happy you are, so it eases my fear slightly."

Nick nodded, his throat growing tight with emotion. "I am happy, Mom."

His mother sat on the couch beside him again, took his hands, and stared deeply into his eyes. In the past when she'd done this, it had made him uncomfortable. Now, more than anything, he wanted her to look into his soul. Would she be able to read his mind, feel what was in his heart? He wanted to talk about Abby, but he didn't dare.

She nodded and smiled. "I feel this woman is indeed your soul mate."

"I know she is."

Tears formed in her eyes, and then she hugged him. Nick put his arms around her, realizing he couldn't remember the last time they'd embraced. Suddenly, he missed all of those years he'd been without her.

He pulled away and gazed into her eyes. "Mom, I want—" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Please forgive me for all the mean things I've said to you in the past. For the first time in my life, I see clearly. I feel terrible for the way I've behaved. I promise never to hurt you again."

Tears streamed down her face. "There is nothing to forgive, my dear. Your father had a lot of influence on you. In a way that's good, because it made you successful."

Nick shook his head. "But it also kept me away from a loving mother."

She cupped his face in her hands and smiled. "Thank you, Nick. I've always loved you, and I couldn't be more proud of you."

She kissed him then hugged him again. "Before you leave, I must tell you what little I've seen of your future."

Nick held his breath. Earlier, she'd mentioned everything was good. What was she holding back? "What did you see?"

She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "I haven't been able to make sense of anything." She looked at him and grasped his hands. "Nothing is as it seems."

"What does that mean?"

His mother shrugged. "Like I said, I can't figure it out. All I know is that it's not right. You have to make it right. Don't set your mind on thinking things are going a certain way, because they're not. Nothing is as it seems."

Confusion filled Nick's mind as he kissed his mother goodbye and left. Her "sights" had always been a bit disoriented, yet she'd always been correct somehow. So what did her vision mean this time?

* * * *

Abigail paced the floor, praying Nick and his mother could talk things out. He seemed to long for a good relationship with her, and it tore at Abigail's heart to think he was raised without her.

She didn't remember much about her mother, but her father kept miniatures and paintings of her around the house. He'd told Abigail that her mother often took her on picnics while he was at the office, and she wished she could remember those times.

Although she loved her father dearly, she spent much more time with the servants than with him. They knew her heartaches. They knew about her frustration when her father or Harry had chased away another beau. And they especially knew what a lost and lonely girl she had been all of her life.

Thinking about the past upset her, so she walked behind Nick's desk and sat, looking for something to keep her mind occupied until he returned. The computer on his desk was still on. Since she'd been watching him for a while, she knew the miracles this contraption could do.

Abigail rested her hand on the object that fit in the curve of her palm. Why in the world they called this a mouse, she'd never understand. She moved the arrow around until she found the picture of a blue "e." Nick had called this the Internet, whatever that meant.

She clicked on a square that said "search" and rested her fingers on the keyboard, which looked much like the keys of a typewriter. Now, who should she look up? Nick had already searched for her uncle and aunt, and Cassandra Brown...er, Westland. The only other person he didn't check out thoroughly was her cousin Anthony.

Careful to hit the right keys, she typed "Anthony Carlisle." A white page with many blue headings popped up, and her hopes dropped. What did I do wrong? Abigail scratched her ear and studied the screen, and then tried again. This time, she typed in her cousin's name and then "Carlisle fortune." Immediately a different screen popped up with fewer choices than before. She clicked on each one, but none of the articles referred to her cousin. Clearly, there were many men with the same name.

Abigail tried one more time, typing in the year 1917. Finally, she found something about her cousin. It was her uncle and aunt's obituaries, with Anthony named as their only survivor. That wasn't what Abigail was looking for. She tried again and again, and just as she was ready to give up, she found a photograph of a couple, announcing an engagement. She remembered Nick clicking on the picture to enlarge it, so she did this a few times until she recognized the faces.

She gasped and covered her mouth. Standing next to Anthony was none other than Cassandra Brown. The elderly woman had denied personally knowing her father, Edward Carlisle, but she'd been engaged to his nephew, Anthony. How could she not know Edward at all? Abigail suspected that when they had visited her in the nursing home, Cassandra had rattled off nonsense.

In her mind, Abigail pieced together what they knew about Cassandra. She'd married a man with the last name Westland—probably Harry. Obviously, the woman never married Anthony, although they were engaged. Abigail also knew that Cassandra was given the building as an engagement gift. What were the odds it was Anthony who gave it to her?

Abigail rubbed her forehead and looked back through the other links, but didn't find anything. She closed her eyes and sighed. Nothing made sense.

Footsteps sounded on the floor in the hallway, and she turned toward the door, recognizing the rhythm of Nick's walk. When he opened the door, her heart soared. She flew from the chair and ran into his arms. Before the door closed behind him, she had kissed him hard on the lips.

He laughed. "Did you miss me that much?"

"More." She sighed and laid her head on his chest.

He stroked her hair then led her toward his desk. "What did you do while I was away?"

"I researched my cousin. I found some very interesting information." She pointed to the computer.

Nick's eyes went wide. "You researched something on the computer?"

"Amazing, isn't it? But I found out my cousin was engaged." She waited until Nick rounded the desk. "To Cassandra Brown."

Nick's head jerked up and he stared at Abigail.

She nodded. "It shocked me too."

"Maybe he was the one who purchased the building for Cassandra and not Harry," Nick said. "By then, his parents would have died, and he would've had the money."

"Yes, exactly."

"Very interesting." He sat on his chair. "And I wonder why she didn't marry him."

"The article didn't say." Abby walked around the desk and sat on his lap. His hands circled her waist and he pulled her closer. "But I'm wondering if Cassandra used my cousin for his money. Anthony wasn't a very handsome man, and God certainly didn't bless him with a brain."

"I wouldn't put it past Cassandra to do that very thing," Nick said.

He nuzzled her neck and she sighed. "I think you were missing me, too."

"You know I was."

She pulled back and looked into his dark green eyes. "I love you, Nick."

"I know." He smiled. "And it's the best feeling in the world."

Just as he brought his mouth down to hers, clicking of heels echoed through the corridor. Abigail knew that sound—Miss Swimsuit model was back. With a groan, Abigail pulled away.

Nick sighed. "She really knows when to ruin the moment, doesn't she?"

"More often than I like." Abigail moved to the window and sat on the small seat.

He slid his chair closer to his desk just as Vanessa called, "Nicky? Are you busy?"

"Come in, Vanessa." He leaned closer to his computer, pretending to read something on his screen.

She strolled in wearing a tight pair of pants and a stretchy top that barely covered her. Abigail rolled her eyes. Leave it to Vanessa to always look like she walked out of the pages of a magazine. For once, couldn't the woman wear wrinkled clothes and have no makeup on?

Nick glanced up at the unexpected visitor, and then back down at his computer. "Hello, Vanessa. What's up? You've caught me in between clients."

"I wanted to come tell you that my great-grandmother has been asking about you."

"She has?" he exclaimed.

"Yes. She says it's important that she talks to you."

"Did she say when?"

"No."

"Well, tonight is out of the question. I'm sure it's way past visiting hours anyway. How about tomorrow? I'll cancel some of my appointments if I have to."

Vanessa shrugged and sat on the brown leather chair across from him. "I'm sure tomorrow will be okay. I'll ask her."

"I wonder what she wants to tell me."

Vanessa arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Not only that, but she told me she wanted to meet you alone." She rolled her eyes. "I can't believe she actually told me not to be there."

Abigail giggled. Perhaps Cassandra's mind was still sharp after all.

"Yes, that does seem strange. I wonder why," Nick said. "Guess I'll know tomorrow."

Vanessa leaned forward on the desk. "I'd like to know what's so important for her to see you and not me. Will you come see me afterwards and let me know?"

"I suppose I can."

Abigail gritted her teeth. She hated having that woman draped all over Nick.

He glanced at his Rolex and breathed a deep sigh. "Vanessa, I'll call you to set up the time, but I have a client coming in a few minutes and I still have to prepare for this appointment."

"This late?" she whined.

"It was the only time he could meet. I'm here for my clients, remember?"

Vanessa shrugged.

"Thanks for coming and letting me know about your grandmother."

She nodded and stood. "All right, I'll leave. Talk to you later." She walked out of his office, swinging her hips in what Abigail thought was an exaggerated fashion.

Once the door closed, Nick turned and smiled at Abigail. She didn't share his enthusiasm. How could she when any moment she might lose him when she passed on? But then she knew Nick. She knew this was what excited him—researching the case and finding answers.

He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared, Nick."

"Why?"

"Because Cassandra wants to see you. That means she knows something. And if she knows something..." Abigail's bottom lip trembled and she blinked back tears.

He cupped her face as his thumbs traced her mouth. "I doubt she knows who killed you. I think she just may want to tell me other things she knows about your father."

Scowling, Abigail pulled away and folded her arms. "I still can't believe she said that about my father. Why, the mere idea of him siring other children is just ridiculous! My father always took care of his responsibilities. He was a powerful figure back in that time, and he was a man people admired. I can't believe Cassandra would even think such a thing. Why, I was ready to throttle her when she said that. If I hadn't touched your hand just then and felt you—"

"Shh." Nick pulled her back into his arms. "I was shocked with what she said, too. But it was just the cynical ranting of a feeble-minded old woman. And that's why I'm not taking you with me when I go, Abby."

Abigail gasped and pulled back. "You're not taking me?"

"No. I don't want you getting upset over nothing."

"But what if it isn't nothing?"

"And what if it is?" He kissed her forehead.

She studied his tie, hurt that he didn't want her there with him. Then she realized he was simply looking out for her best interests. If Cassandra said something Abigail didn't like, she could explode and do something terrible, giving away her ghostly state. That certainly wouldn't look good, especially for a respected man like Nick.

"You're right. Forgive me for doubting your decision."

He lifted her chin with his finger. "Promise you're not mad?"

She smiled. "I could never be upset at you."

"Good." He kissed her lips. "Because I am going to keep you by my side forever, I promise."

Deep in her heart, Abigail prayed he could keep that promise.