"Uh hu, alright sweetie, we'll have em ready for ya tomorrow, okay, bye naw." The sturdy woman behind the counter slammed down a land line. She mumbled into her planner as her short brown hair shook, "Poor Mums, why don't cha pump yerself full a chemicals to force yerself ta bloom and see how YOU feel! Heeey Jimmy! When j'all get E-in?"

"Hey Tam," Dad said as they power hugged. Mom and Tam held hands and looked at each other long after their squeezing was over. "I'm so glad I got ta keep you!" Tam said, referring to the nasty divorce from Red that made Dad's family not hers anymore. But she and Mom had way too much in common and all of it involved plants.

"Where you want these, Coach Wallace?" A guy in khakis and work boots was struggling to contain the giant ferns blocking his face. I knew that deep voice. He put down the flat of plants and looked at me. "Well hey, Starshine."

"Hey Bradley." I tried to be casual as I took in his white t with a band of hunter green at the neck and biceps. The line drawing of a trout swam across his chest. Bradley Reynolds. There was no question as to his hot properties. He was like a movie star from the last century, teeth not quite straight, a perfectly regal nose, and dark hair that flipped casually away from hazel eyes. "A'd hug you, but A'm sweating," he said in that deep old-school drawl as he pulled his shirt away from his chest. His accent was so different than Granny's and Tam's. It flashed images of mossy country club steps in the expensive shade.

"Oh good, the McIntosh's ferns," Tam said. "She's been peskin' me about those. Can ya get em over there ta-day?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Bradley said.

"Don't you 'yes ma'am' me. I told ya that bugs the crap out a me."

"Yes, Coach Wallace." Tam used to be the prep-school softball coach, until she had a midlife crisis, met Chris, divorced Red and opened a nursery. Chris was her partner in more ways than one.

"The only place to get decent Gladiolas in the area," Chris herself proclaimed as she came in with armloads. Bradley helped her carry the buckets to the window and arrange the rainbow spikes. Chris was lean and wore her silver hair in a ponytail.

The water cooler next to them sported the Reynolds logo. I'd always known Bradley's family had started the company generations ago, but now I knew why they had become the richest locals. No one from Crystal Rock could travel without that water for long without enduring the agonizing pain Mom and Dad had once gone through to start a new life. Most people weren't that brave. And we all still drank it anyway.

As if my parents hadn't been through enough in crossing over to the dark side off water time, they still had the sacred water shipped in. They had confessed this to me last month―once I discovered the truth without their help―that it wasn't just because the city tap was nasty. Reynolds water from Dad's home town was a kind of added insurance that kept an unendurable, inexplicable pain at bay.

"Perfect, Glads are Red's favorite," Mom said as Chris stopped to hug her too. "We're going to visit him and we desperately need a peace offering."

"Okay, these are so bright he'll be seeing red with his eyes closed, I mean not seeing red like he's mad but, you know what I mean. He'll love'm," Chris stammered.

"Have time for a hike while you're in town? Tomorrow's ma day off." Bradley turned to me. "Ah mean, unless you're still scared a non-venemous snakes."

A memory flashed: our hike last year had involved me screaming like a five year old and him holding me with his strong arms to protect me from the snake, which as it turned out, he identified as harmless and let slither away. "I won't scream; I've seen a lot worse than that this summer."

"I heard 'bout that psycho out in Colorado. Good Lord, you okay?"

If nothing else, my hiking skills had certainly improved. "Never better. I'll race you to the top of the Rock."

~*~

In the hospital elevator, Mom rubbed Dad's shoulder. The tall gladiolas in his arm shook with shocking scarlet taking up more room than we had in the cramped space. Down the hall, Red's door was open and the TV was on a game show. The room had been made to look homey with photos and cards propped on the nightstand.

Dad and Red did not hug. Instead, they stared in awkward silence while Mom patted Red on the arm. He was indeed tiny, just as Granny had warned. An oxygen tank took up more space than he did. Soon it became clear that the not hugging or talking had more to do with Red's condition than his anger. He squeezed Mom's arm in thanks and she asked him if he needed anything, water?

He shook his head no, so she busied herself with arranging the flower vase around all the cards on the nightstand. One card caught my eye; something about it was awfully familiar. On the front, a triangle was mostly submerged under waves, only the top tip exposed and beaming rays of light, like the pyramid on a dollar bill.

~*~

Bradley was late, and now I knew why. This gave me time to think about what I'd signed up for. I stared down the moss and ferns covering the road side to ask myself what the hell I was thinking. What would Max say if he knew I was meeting my old crush for a hike?

Bradley had been just that for me growing up. A crush and nothing more. Now I was a woman able to hike when and with whom I wanted, right? And I had a solid boyfriend. Still, insecurity nagged as I tugged a piece of skin away from my thumbnail.

"Starshine." He was right behind me. How had I not noticed him coming? "Still gonna beat me to the top?"

"You're late."

"Yeah, that." He started to come up with an excuse. Last year it had been lax practice.

"You don't have to explain. I know about water time now and how it slows down the locals, from all the water pulsing off the falls in the area."

He studied me long enough for his hazel eyes to bore into mine. "Good ta know."

"Let's go before the rain sets in." I looked up at the swirling fog invading our blue morning.

Soon we were engulfed in white mist. It permeated every crevice and pore as we trudged upward into leafy shrubs, their snaky roots teasing me. I would not scream! (Or trip.) The ground was covered in coffee-colored leaves and earth, soaked from the dripping wet landscape. This hiking was so much easier than those in Colorado's thin oxygen and I used the advantage to punch my lungs and muscles forward. Bradley was beginning to sweat, and maybe for an excuse to rest he stopped, bent down and pointed out something poking through the leaf litter. "Monotropa uniflora," he announced.

"Mono-what?'

"The ghost pipes," he said. "Cherokee legend says these plants grow where there's been a quarrel." Their color was as bland as the fog yet translucent, certainly ghostly.

"Selfishness came into the world an so the Cherokee and some utha Eastern tribes began to fight. The chiefs met in council but smoked the peace pipe before endin their quarrel, an the Great Spirit had enough a their fightin an turned the old mens' bowed heads into Indian pipes. An then he made em grow where friends and relatives had quarreled, an he made smoke hang over these mountains until we have world peace. So Ah guess it's gonna be a while before it clears."

"They do look like nodding heads." Their translucent quality was eerie. I reached to touch one and it felt cold and slippery. Some decaying ones next to it had shriveled into black charred corpses and I shuddered.

Bradley looked up and into the distance. His hair was wet from the mist and the exercise and he slicked a bunch back into perfection with one stroke. "Ah belive it. Daddy and Ah had a fight here once and he still hasn't forgiven me."

"I'm sure he has." The Bradley men were such gentlemen it was hard to imagine them fighting instead of helping every worthy cause in town.

"Not yet an it's been ova a year." His eyes looked tortured.

"Well, what was it about?" He was sharing so much, it seemed okay to press.

"He wants to sell this land and Ah don't, an I'll show you why when we get to the top."

"Race ya!" I started sprinting and he followed close behind up the twisting path. Giggles caught in my throat from the chase as he closed in on me. But I was too fast and reached the clearing first. We doubled over with our hands on our hips and surveyed the view from the top of the granite outcrop above the fog.

It was as though someone had laid a teal carpet over the mountains. Each fold rose from the foggy layer below. "You're in shape, Starshine," he commended.

"That's what living at high altitude will do for you."

"Not on water time yet, are you?"

"Nah, that would slow me down like a local, no offense."

"Some taken." He stepped closer and offered water from his canteen.

I swigged the Reynolds water and let it cool my throat. I handed it back and he chugged after me with those gorgeous thick lips I'd remembered. Lips I'd always though must be good for kissing.

"So this why you won't sell? It's an amazing view."

"At night is when the view gets even betta. On clear evenings the stars are incredible, and it's one a the best places to see the Blue Mountain Lights." He pointed at a ridge and I recognized the mounded shape of Blue Mountain Dad had always told me about. "This view cannot end up in the wrong hands. If it did, we'd all pay one way or anotha." He yanked a neon scarlet piece of builder's tape off of a Rhododendron to prove his point.

"Sometimes when I want my parents to hear me, I try another way. I could talk to my dad and maybe he can reason with him."

"Your dad? He's the last person mine would want advice from. They're on different sides a water time, not to mention lodges. Your dad chose the other team an then he chose not to be a part a this world anymore. We're left to defend it or sell it out to get by."

"It's okay," I said, taking his arm. I'd never seen him this angry, only cool and perfect. His dark side was showing.

He gave me a long look that began to soften. "Sorry Star, Ah don't mean to rant. Ah guess it was all bottled up till Ah saw you. You know A'd neva disrespect ma dad. We just need time and he'll come round."

I didn't know what else to say so I hugged him. He smelled like the woods and the soil he worked in each day, and the wet, green earth itself. I felt a vibration shooting through my thighs that made me question my stability. And then I realized it was my cell. "Good service up here," I said to break the awkward interruption.

The selfie of Max and me on the screen made me jump. Had he seen me getting personal with Bradley? Guilt washed over as I punched the green button and answered as casually as possible.

For a laid-back local, he was the most frantic I'd ever heard. "Star? Star, Can you hear me? I don't know what to do. I need—."

"What's wrong, honey? Are you okay?" I tried to ask calmly.

"Dad's missing. His truck was found at the power station and no one's seen him in twenty-four hours."
___________________ _ _ _

A/N: Thanks to all you amazing readers who are thirsty for more water-time adventures, I'm busy at work on this sequel after some time away. And don't forget to grab your copy of Hot Pressed, my first water-time mystery, on Kindle unlimited! Sending bear hugs and a big rainbow your way...

Dedicated to Amber K Bryant who needs no introduction. A prolific writer, Amber's Spirit Seeker series is intense and funny at the same time, as are all her many exciting works. I'm enjoying The True One, her new WIP on the Watt so check it out if you haven't already! It's howlicious...