Frank had always said that Joe was the more impetuous of the group. He said that, one day, Joe was going to get himself killed by doing what he did best: acting without thinking. Rushing into things before thinking about what might happen. Not looking before leaping. But, as Joe stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching some unknown stranger slowly squeeze the life out of a girl he was coming to like, he knew he didn't have time to think. So he did what he did best.

He lowered his head so that his chin was tucked into his chest and rushed at the guy, who turned to him in what Joe guessed was surprise. Guess he didn't hear me yell earlier. Too bad for him.

That was all he had time for before he felt his head slam into the other guys chest.

"Ooof!" the black-clad figure grunted as he crashed into the floor, Joe landing heavily on top of him. The younger Hardy raised his fist for a knockout punch, determined to get some answers from this guys since Kinzy herself was reluctant to provide them. But, before he could, the other guy managed to shove him off, using his feet. Joe flew through the air and crashed into the ground, wincing as his shoulder connected with the cabinet. He started to scramble to his feet, to chase after the intruder, but stopped when he saw Kinzy. She was balled up in the floor, coughing violently as air flowed back into her starved lungs. Her arm was clutched tightly to her chest, and her was face was twisted into a mask of pain.

"Kinzy." Joe crawled over to the fallen girl, trying not to wince as he put his weight onto his throbbing shoulder. "Kinzy, what's wrong?"

"My arm," she managed to get out through gritted teeth and in between coughs. "It hurts..."

Joe froze with a sinking heart as he remembered that the pain in her heart was what had caused her to come into the kitchen in the first place. "Where's your medicine?" he asked her gently, brushing a lock of white hair away from her face. A wave of sadness clutched his heart as he saw the pain on her face, surprising him. Iola was the only person who had had that affect on him.

"Cabinet...above the coffee pot," she told him before scrunching up tighter and breaking into another coughing fit.

Joe nodded. "Hang on," he told her, getting to his feet. "I'll be right back."

A thousand thoughts found themselves running through Joe's mind as he hurried over to where the coffee pot sat, half full, on the counter.

Someone tried to kill her for the second time in one day. Something has to be going on around here. Something big. Makes me almost glad that I had that fight with Frank earlier. If I had decided to stay there and go with him tomorrow, Kinzy would have been dead right now instead of just hurt. Thank God for small favors...

He reached up and yanked open the polished wood cabinet, and gawked at all the medicine bottles he saw staring back at him. Good God! I guess you have to take a lot of pills when you've gone through what those two have. Still, I think this is overdoing it just a bit.

His eye caught one bottle, smaller than most, that was placed slightly in front of all the others. He grabbed it and checked the label. It had Kinzy's name on it, and the issue date matched today's. This is it.

After checking over the instructions to make sure he didn't give the poor girl an overdose, Joe shook out two, rather large whit pills into his hand before placing the cap back on the bottle and putting it back inside the cabinet. He then snatched a drying glass--one he recognized as the one he had used at lunch--from the dish drainer and stuck it under the tap to fill it up with water. As he did so, he threw a glance over his shoulder at Kinzy.

Her coughing had all but stopped, much to his relief, and her injured arm was lying on the floor. She was horrifyingly still, not even seeming to be breathing.

The glass now nearly full, Joe turned off the tap and hurried over to the side of the fallen girl. "Kinzy?" he asked softly, carefully placing the glass down on the floor. "Can you hear me?"

A low moan was his only answer.

He lowered himself down so that he was sitting next to her and, being as gentle as he possibly could, propped her up against him so that she could breathe easier. "Here," he said, holding out his hand so that she could see the pills. "You need to take these."

Weakly, Kinzy took the medicine from his hand and put them in her mouth. With some help from Joe in holding the glass, she washed them down with a few gulps of water.

For a long moment, the two of them just sat there, Kinzy leaning against Joe as she slowly got her strength back. He gently rocked her back and worthwhile smoothing her hair back from her face to let her know that he was there for her. That he cared.

Finally there was a soft break in the silence. "Joe?" Kinzy asked, her voice so soft that he almost didn't hear her.

"Hmmm?"

"I-I want to thank you. You saved my life. Again. For the second time in a day."

Joe smiled and gave her a squeeze. "It's no big deal. I was only glad that I was here to do something about it." He paused, then sighed. "Kinzy, what's going on? I need to know."

"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled. "What do you need to know about what?"

"I mean, someone has tried to kill you. Not once, but twice. And in the same day! That usually doesn't happen unless there is something that the victim knows and they don't want you telling anyone or doing something about it."

"I have no idea why these guys are after me," she protested. She then tried to pull away from him, but she was way too weak and his grip on her was way too strong. "Joe-"

"I'm here to help you," he said softly into her ear, placing his chin on top of her head. "You can tell me what's going on. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I don't know," she said quietly, leaning back against Joe's chest, feeling secure. "I just came here to get those pills and this guy--jumped me. He just came out of nowhere! He grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall then started choking me."

Joe was disturbed. "Did he say anything to you? Anything at all?"

"No. Not that I was aware of. He could have and I just didn't know it." She sighed. "I'm sorry, Joe," she said in a miserable tone of voice. "I just don't know..."

"Shhh," he comforted, holding her tighter as he rocked her. "It's okay. I'm sorry I pushed. You're okay. That's all that matters. We'll find the people who are doing this and stop them. I promise."

I promise.

Frank walked as slowly as he could back to his campsite, not even noticing the darkness that had slowly crept across the land. He didn't care. He had other things on his mind. Things that were much more important.

I'm all alone, he thought miserably, sticking his hands in his pockets and kicking a stone, causing it to go skittering down the road. I don't have anyone left to turn to in this God forsaken place. First Joe leaves me, then Dad, and now Nancy.

She was wrong, he argued with himself, thinking of Nancy's earlier accusations. I'm not chasing anyone away. They're chasing me away! I didn't ask Joe to bring Kinzy along and ruin our plans. I didn't ask him to start a fight with me. I didn't ask my dad to get upset with me after what was Joe and Kinzy's fault. I didn't ask Nancy to accuse me of stuff like that. They all pushed me away. When I needed them the most.

But didn't you let Joe down? came that little voice from the back of his mind. When he needed you? You left him for Nancy, remember? You brought this--all of this--onto yourself.

Frank quickly shook his head to banish the thought from his mind. He would get nowhere if he began down that train of thought.

A gust of strong wind blew down the dusty wind, causing Frank to hunch his shoulders for protection. Looking up, he realized that he could see neither the stars nor the moon. The sky had completely clouded over.

He moaned. Great. To top of this wonderful day, it looks as though I'm going to be getting wet sometime tonight. I guess I'd better hurry up and get back before he decides to burst open and pour. Knowing my luck, it will.

With that thought in mind, Frank took up his jog once again. He really wasn't looking forward to getting wet. He didn't want this day to be any worse than it already was. He didn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that they had gotten Frank Hardy completely down. Not even God.

Joe lay stretched out on the floor in Kinzy's upstairs bedroom, tucked snugly into a spare sleeping bag, arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the ceiling as thoughts raced one after another through his head. Thoughts of all the promises he had made--and broken--in just one day.

I promised Frank that I would spend time with him, be his brother, and I broke it. I promised Kinzy that I wouldn't let anyone hurt her, no matter what, and I broke it. I promised Kinzy that I would hold on to be brother no matter what, and I broke it almost as soon as I made it! No wonder Frank hates me so much. I'll be surprised if Kinzy will even let me stay with her. I'm an awful human being.

Joe listened to the steady breathing coming from under the lump of covers on Kinzy's bed, proving that the white-haired girl was fast asleep. He felt an overwhelming need to protect her, but wasn't as sure about doing it now than he was this morning. He had been lucky the past two times. But, he knew that if he had been only a few seconds later in either case, Kinzy would probably be dead.

I should have stopped this whole thing from happening, he told himself angrily. I never should have let that crackpot get another shot at her in the first place. Great job I'm doing of playing the hero here.

I just want to keep her safe. I know that comes from letting Iola down the way I did. I should have taken better care of her. Watched out for her more. I won't make that same mistake with Kinzy. That's one promise I know I'm going to keep, no matter what the cost.

With that, Joe turned over on his side, closed his eyes, and soon drifted off to sleep.

Frank found his father sitting by a roaring fire, drawing in the dirt with as tick. He looked up as Frank approached, the relief evident in his eyes.

"Frank," he said, nodding to a log next to him. "Have a seat?"

The older Hardy boy couldn't help but look at the ground in shame as he sat down. Now that he had had a chance to cool down, he was more than embarrassed at the way he had yelled at his dad earlier.

Fenton studied his son for a moment, trying to read his expressions, before speaking. He could see the remorse plainly on Frank's face, and, despite his anger at his Frank's earlier actions, he felt his heart go out to him.

"Did you and Nancy have a good talk?" he asked softly, hoping he wouldn't strike a nerve anywhere.

"No," Frank replied, shaking his head sadly. "We--we had an argument, and she accused me of chasing away the people who really cared about me." He let out a deep sigh as he thought about what had happened that day. "I guess she was right."

Fenton let out a soul-deep sigh of his own. "Frank, I know how difficult Joe is being right now. I mean, he's already hard enough to deal with as it is. But all this that's happened with Iola... it's made it so much worse. His mood swings are terrible. He's gone crazy. And I know it's driving you crazy, too. But we're going to have to stick this out. Together. We're going to have to let him know that we're there for him. We'll make it, Frank. I'm not going to promise that it's going to be easy, and there's not going to be times when you want to give up, but we'll make it through somehow. I promise."

Frank gave him a small smile, the bravest one he could muster. "Thanks, Dad. I know we will." He paused, and he could feel his face heat up. That made him blush even worse. "Listen. I just want to say that I'm-I'm sorry for arguing with you earlier. It was stupid, and I wasn't thinking. Besides, I want to have at least one person on my side while I'm here."

"You know that I'll always be here for you, Frank. You and Joe both. No matter what. I know I'm not the greatest father in the world, but at least I care about my boys."

"You're a great dad," Frank said fiercely. "Even thought we're not always the best sons you could have asked for. We proved that this afternoon."

"Have you forgiven your brother, then?" Mr. Hardy asked, looking at Frank hopefully.

The older Hardy thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No," he said sadly. "I'm sorry, Dad. I just can't. I can't bring myself to do it."

Fenton gave him a reassuring smile, even though he himself felt extremely sad. "It's okay, Frank. I know you'll forgive him when the time comes."

Frank nodded, feeling even more miserable.

If the time ever does come.

He was completely surrounded by fire. He looked around, but couldn't see anything pass the wall of orange and yellow flames. He could hear voices, though; whispers, laughs, even screams. But there was no one there. At least no one that he could see.

"Who's there?" he asked sharply, continuing to frantically look around. "Who are you?!"

No one answered, but the sounds of sobbing began to grow louder and louder, and Joe could almost feel his heart wrench at the miserable wailing.

"How can I help you?" he cried in a desperate voice. "Who are you?!"

"Joe."

He whirled around in surprise at the sound of his name being spoken. It had been spoken softly, but he had heard it clearly. It was a voice he would recognize anywhere, but a voice he thought had been silenced forever.

She looked the same as Joe had remembered her looking the last time he had saw her, this girl who now stood in the middle of the flames with him. Her long dark hair billowed out behind her, and her slender form was clad in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, the same outfit she had been wearing the last time he had seen her.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw her. "Iola," he managed to force out in a barely audible whisper.

His girlfriend, the love of his life that he had seen die when his car had blown up only a month before, smiled at him. "Hello, Joe," she said softly, stepping towards him. "I've missed you."

He wasn't able to get his lips to form any response. So he didn't say anything, just stared at her, dumbfounded. How can this be? asked a little voice that somehow managed to push its way through his fogged over mind. She's dead. I saw her die in my car. But that's her in front of me! Is she a ghost?

"What's the matter?" she asked in a slightly mocking tone that seemed very strange. "Do you not have anything to say to the girl you murdered?"

Joe felt slightly jolted at her harsh words, but he was still too busy trying to figure out how she could be here with him when he knew she was dead that he didn't pay it much attention. "Iola," he whispered, his eyes searching her face almost pleadingly. "You're alive!"

Still smiling pleasantly, she shook her head. "No, Joe. I'm dead. You killed me, remember?"

"No." He shook his head, trying to come out of the fog that seemed to surround his mind. "No. Iola, you have to--"

He broke off as she reached over and grabbed his hands, wincing at realizing how cold her own hands were. "But that doesn't matter anymore," she said excitedly, her eyes sparkling as they stared into his.

"You and I can be together, Joe. Forever!"

He started to say something, then stopped in sheer horror when he looked back up and saw her face.

Her skin and begun to char and peel off in patches, leaving nothing but empty spaces. Yet her smile never faded.

"Forever," she promised again, this time in a raspy whisper.

"No!" Joe tried his hardest to pull away from her grasp, but found that her grip was way too strong. "Nooo!"

Suddenly, Iola--the rest of her beginning to blacken as her eyes fell from their sockets, leaving empty holes--started cackling. Joe could now feel the heat of the flames, or was it coming from the girl in front of him?

"You're going to be mine forever!"

"Noooooo!"

"Joe! Joe!"

Joe Hardy came awake with a gasp and sat strait up, his eyes wide and his heart pounding furiously. For one, awful moment, he could still see the two blackened, hollow eye sockets in an equally blackened face with patches of shin missing. Instead, he found himself looking into a pair of warm, concerned-filled silver eyes of a living person. Kinzy's eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, her eyes searching his face. "You had me scared, you were screaming so loud."

Joe closed his eyes for a second as he took a long shaky breath trying to calm his rattled nerves. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, and realized that, not only was he covered in a cold sweat, but was trembling too.

"I-I'm okay," he said, knowing how far from the truth that really was. "I just had a nightmare. That's all."

Joe could hear a shuffling noise, then a slightly click, and the room was suddenly bathed in the soft light provided by KInzy's bedside lamp. More shuffling, and she was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to him, holding a large white teddy bear.

"Nightmares are a big deal," she said softly, resting her chin on top of the bear's head. "It's been a year since the accident, and I still have nightmares about it. The worse were right after it happened, though. I kept seeing it happen, over and over. The car would crash into the wall at full speed, roll over a few times, then burst into flames. And, from the flames, I can hear them-both of them-screaming. Screaming for me to come and help them. For me. And I-I can't get to them. I start to run towards it, but I just can't reach it. And the screaming just gets louder and louder."

She stopped, and Joe couldn't mistake the pain the filled her eyes. It was a light that had been in his eyes every time he had looked in the mirror for the past month.

"Then came the really bad nightmares. The ones where Steve and Brixton are standing in front of me, just as though they were still alive. Then they start accusing me of letting them die. That they screamed and screamed for me to come help them, but I never did. That I was the one who had murdered them."

She stopped and let out a deep sigh. "After the accident, I became seriously depressed. So depressed, in fact, that I had to go to the hospital for a while. My father was dead, my mother paralyzed for life, and my brother and boyfriend just recently killed. To top things off, I was having dreams where that same brother and boyfriend came back from the dead and accused me of killing them. I didn't care much for life anymore at that point. Didn't think it was worth anything. I honestly didn't think I was going to make it, then."

She turned to her window and, even though Joe knew that she could see nothing in the darkness, she smiled.

"But then I thought about the river," she said quietly, more to herself than to him. "And I thought of what a perfect role model it was. No matter what obstacles it faces, it always manages to keep going. Oh, it may slow down to a crawl at times, but it never just stops. It always manages to go over, under, or around anything in its path. And I knew that I could, too."

She turned back to face Joe, who was now watching her with rapt attention. "During that depression, I think that I just couldn't accept the fact that they were gone for good. That I was never going to see them again. And, in a weird, twisted way, the nightmares helped me get over that. They proved to me that Steve and Brixton were dead, gone for good. They were never coming back, and I needed to get on with my life. So I did." She shrugged. "The nightmares still haven't gone away. I don't think they ever will. But at least they're not so bad anymore."

Joe suddenly found himself looking at her with new respect, eyes shinning. Leaning over, he brushed a lock of hair away from her face. "You have more courage now than I can ever hop to have in a lifetime," he said softly. "Thank you for sharing it with me."

She smiled. Then, without any warning, she leaned forward and gently kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Joe," she said, getting to her feet. She climbed back into her bed and, once she was sure Joe was lying back down, turned out the light.

Frank couldn't sleep that night. The silence...well, it was too loud. He could hear the crickets outside chirping as clear as if they were right inside the tent with him. He could also hear the leaves rustle in the trees as the strong winds that were blowing in the rain clouds came rushing through. The sleeping bag next to him lay flat, empty.

This is the first time I've gone without telling Joe good night in a long time, he thought as he lay on his back, staring at the top of tent in the dark. Of course, I really don't want to say good night to him right now. I'm still upset with him. Maybe not as much as I was earlier today, but I'm still mad.

Frank didn't want to admit it to anybody-least not to himself-but he knew that it was the worry that was keeping him awake. Joe was at Kinzy's house. Of that he had absolutely no doubt. But the fact that his brother hadn't even bothered to call at least his father and let him know that he was, indeed staying at Kinzy's bothered Frank.

He said someone was after Kinzy. What if whoever it was tried again, and Joe got hurt trying to protect her. But then Kinzy would've called us.

Wouldn't she?

Frank rolled over and stared at his brother's empty sleeping bag, trying to imagine Joe curled up under the cover, snoring softly like he sometimes did, much to Frank's amusement. A sadness swept through him, making him want to curl up like a little kid. I may be mad at him, but that doesn't mean I can't miss him.

After the explosion and Iola's death, Frank had become scared. Not just for Joe, but more of Joe than anything. His brother had turned into a completely different person than the one Frank was used to. He became wild and crazy, more than was normal for even him, not even seeming to care about his own safety as the brothers had helped the Network track down Al-Roussa, the Assassin who had placed the bomb in the car.

But what really scared Frank was the way Joe's moods would shift back and forth. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Frank would wake up in the middle of the night to hear Joe sobbing. Then there were the days like today, when Joe seemed ready to snap the head off anybody who walked by. It almost broke Frank's heart to watch him.

He also couldn't forget the keys. The melted, twisted keys that had unlocked the door to Iola's death. Joe had found them while searching through the burned-out skeleton of his car. He had kept them, either on a chain around his neck so that they would be close to his heart, or in a chamois bag that he took with him everywhere he went. It was his way of keeping her alive.

Frank knew that he had no idea what his brother was going through, though he pretended to understand. He had never lost anyone that close to him so violently. Yes, he had hurt when Iola died. She was his friend, too. He cared for her. But the emotional impact of her death for him had been nothing like Joe's. And that had proved to be the real barrier between the two.

Frank had wanted his brother to open up to him, to talk to him like he had the night before, to tell him what was on his mind. He had enjoyed that to no end, just sitting and talking with Joe about any and everything that came to their minds. They had steered clear of the subject of Iola, though. Frank had made sure of that. He hadn't wanted to ruin the moment.

He closed his eyes and sighed. I really need to get some sleep!

The next day dawned cloudy and windy. Joe blinked his eyes as the subdued sunlight came in contact with them. He could automatically tell, just by looking at the sky, that it was going to rain soon. What a day.

As he sat up from his sleeping position on the floor, he noticed that the bed was neatly bed, the corners tucked in and all. Apparently, Kinzy was an early riser.

He let out a jaw-popping yawn as he stretched back, wincing as he felt nearly every bone in his body pop. He was soooo tired.

Joe had had a difficult time falling back asleep last night after his horrific nightmare. Every time he had closed his eyes, he could see that blackened face, those hollow eye sockets. But fatigue had finally won over his rebelling mind, and he had drifted off into a restless sleep.

He pulled himself up to his feet and stretched again, standing on his tiptoes and reaching up as high as he could. Feeling good and limber, he gave himself a quick shake before heading towards the door to find out where Kinzy had disappeared to.

As soon as he was outside of Kinzy's room, Joe came to a dead halt. He inhaled deeply, before closing his eyes dreamily. Kinzy's making breakfast...

The air was heavy with the delicious aroma of frying bacon, scrambled eggs, and baking biscuits. Even upstairs, Joe was able to smell it and pick out what each smell was. He almost felt as if he could float all the way to the kitchen on the smell, kinda like the cartoon characters always did.

But he knew he wouldn't be able to float all the way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Not unless he wanted to fall and break his neck. So he decided to run, since it was the quickest way to get down there without floating.

He skipped down the stairs two at a time, windmilling his arms as his bare foot slipped on the last one and he almost fell. Then he raced through the living and dinning rooms, slowing down only to cut corners and make sharp turns. Then he halted in the kitchen and closed his eyes once more, taking more deep breaths.

Kinzy, who was standing in front of the stove already fully dressed, shot a grin over her shoulder before turning back to her pan of eggs. "Good morning, Joe," she said brightly. "I hope you like your eggs scrambled. That's the only way I know how to make them, unfortunately."

"Are you kidding?" he said, coming up to stand behind her. "This smells heavenly! But I hope you didn't get up this early just to cook breakfast for me."

"Of course I did," she said, as if he were to crazy to believe she wouldn't have. "You saved my life not once, but twice yesterday. It was the least I could do. Besides, we have a tradition here at the Casa de Phillips. Every time we have a guest, the one who invited them has to get up and make them breakfast." She shrugged. "Besides, your friend Nancy is coming over later. I figured I could show her a little hospitality."

Joe lifted an eyebrow. "Nancy Drew?! But why is she coming over here with us instead of staying with Frank? She's my brother's bimbo."

"Be nice! Besides, it seems she and your brother had an argument over one thing or another."

Joe's eyes went wide as he began to sputter. "They fought? Wow. I thought that was nearly impossible. Those two are like Mr. and Miss Perfect. And they're so gung ho about each other. What over?"

Kinzy shook her head as she began to scrape the finished eggs into a bowel. "She didn't say. She just called me-about five minutes ago-and asked if she could stay the day with us, and when I told her yes-I wasn't about to turn her down-she asked me how to get here."

A wicked grin found it's way across Joe's face. "I wonder if Frank knows that yet? I wish I could see his face when he finds out. He'll blame it all on me. He'll be really angry with me then!"

He suddenly stopped and, feeling his face turn an alarming shade of red, looked down at the ground. "Kinzy, I-uh, I want to say that I'm sorry."

She turned to him, a puzzled look on her face. "Sorry? What on earth do you have to be sorry for?"

"For breaking my promise to you. You know, about holding on to my brother and not taking him for granted? I broke it almost right after I had made it." He shook his head. "I'm not very good at keeping promises," he remarked wryly.

She gave him a reassuring smile and reached over to take his hand. "Joe, if everyone was able to keep every promise that they had ever made, we'd be living in a paradise. Don't worry so much about it. It's only human. Don't think yourself a bad person because of it."

"Still, it was a special promise. Not just to you, but to me as well."

"You still have a chance to keep it," she told him. "You haven't actually broken it. When you refuse to do anything about it, that's when it's been broken. So just try again."

Joe nodded. "I will."

Kinzy gave his hand one last squeeze before dropping it and turning back to the food. "If you want to change into some fresh clothes, you can wear some of Steve and Dad's old things."

Joe blinked. "Are you sure that's okay? With you, I mean."

"Of course it is. I'd rather see that stuff put to good use, rather than just sit around and collect dust."

"Well, if it's okay with you, I'd really love to." He grinned and tugged on his T-shirt. "I'm starting to feel kinda grimy."

She laughed as she began to put the bacon on the small table in the kitchen. "The closet is next to the rec room, and the shower is just across the hall. There's towels and stuff already in there. By the time you get done, Nancy should be here and breakfast will be ready."

"Thanks. I shouldn't be too long." Leaving Kinzy fussing over the pan of biscuits, Joe left the kitchen and wandered down the hall in search of fresh clothes.

I can't believe that Nancy is so angry at Frank that she had a fight, not to mention coming over here with us instead of staying the day with him, Joe worried as he walked through the dinning room. I wonder what they fought about. I hope it wasn't me. I don't want to ruin Nancy's vacation, too.

Frank was able to get up and get dressed in ten minutes. He had been up nearly all night, feeling distressed and guilty over the fight he had had with Nancy. Just before he had managed to fall asleep, he had promised himself that he would go and apologize to her first thing in the morning. So, as soon as he was awake, he was getting ready to go.

Fenton had given him permission to take the van that morning, glad that his son was going to apologize to someone. He only hoped that Frank would be able to keep his temper in check.

Frank found himself growing nervous as he steered the van towards Nancy's campsite. Would she still be angry with him? Would she invite him onto the campsite? Would she even talk to him? Or would she just brush him off coldly?

Of course she's still angry with me. Look at how I treated her. That's not the way a friend is supposed to act. I hope I can make her understand that I was just angry.

He felt his heart skip a few beats as he approached the campsite. Nancy's blue Mustang was nowhere to be seen, and her father was sitting by the small fire alone.

Frank quickly swung the van into the small parking spot and slid out, frowning. I wonder where Nancy could be?

Carson rose to his feet as the older Hardy slowly walked towards him. "Good morning, Frank," he said politely, giving a nod. He had overheard the argument between Frank and his daughter the night before, just before Nancy had come to him in tears. She had explained what had happened between the brothers, but Crason was still upset about the way Frank had acted towards her.

"Good morning, Mr. Drew," Frank said in a nervous voice as he meekly stepped forward. "Um, do you know when Nancy will be back? I-I really need to talk to her."

The lawyer shook his head. "I'm not sure, Frank. Probably sometime this afternoon. She went to our river guide's house. You know, the girl with the white hair?"

Frank felt his heart drop down into the pit of his stomach. "Kinzy," he said in a flat voice.

Carson brightened. "Yes. That's her name. Anyways, Nancy drove up to the Ranger Station this morning to find a phone book. Then she called Kinzy and asked for directions before leaving. Didn't tell me what time she'd be back."

Suddenly, a grin broke out on his face. "Bess is still here, though. When Nancy asked is she wanted to go with her, she just groaned and rolled over. I don't blame her. This is a perfect day for sleeping in."

Frank attempted to smile back, but found that he couldn't. All he felt like doing was crawling into a hole and cry until he couldn't cry anymore.

Seeing Frank's miserable look, Carson felt his face soften. "I'm sorry you missed her," he said in a gentle voice. "Do you want me to tell her you stopped by when she gets back?"

Frank shook his head. "No. That's-that's okay." He began shuffling back towards the van. "Thanks, Mr. Drew."

"You're welcome, Frank." He watched with concerned filled eyes as the teenager climbed into the van, started it, then began to pull away.

I don't know what's going on between those kids, but I'm afraid that if someone doesn't do something soon, something really bad is going to happen.

Nancy could only stare and gawk in wide-eyed wonder as Kinzy lead her through the large house.

"Wow," she said in an awed whisper. "It's so big. And pretty. I've never seen a house like this before."

Kinzy grinned. "My mom would cry with joy to hear you say that. She's worked hard to make this place different from everyone else's."

"Is your mom here?"

"No." Kinzy shook her head. "She won't be back until after breakfast. She works at night."

"Oh." Nancy looked puzzeled. "I thought Joe was here. Where is he?"

"In the shower. Or he may already be out." Kinzy stopped, then turned to Nancy, who had also stopped. "Listen, Nancy. I-I want to ask you something. If you don't want to answer, that's okay. I can understand." She paused for a moment as she thought of a good way to word her question. "Is Joe--okay? I mean, he had a really bad nightmare last night. And when he went down the river with me, I noticed how crazy he was. That reminded me of the way I was after, um, the accident my brother and boyfriend were in."

Nancy studied the younger girl with a newfound respect. Frank had told her about what Kinzy had been through, but she had never heard the girl mention it. Not until now.

"Is that why you took up with him?" Nancy asked softly. "To kind of keep an eye on him?"

Kinzy nodded, her face turning a light shade of red. "I noticed that Frank wasn't paying very much attention to him, though Joe was trying to get him to. So I thought I'd kind of take up with him. Help him get through his grief by using my own personal experiences." She let out a deep sigh. "And look at all the good I've done. They're fighting with each other!"

"Which is just as much my fault as it is yours," Nancy admitting, reaching out to place a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Frank and I are, um, close friends." She blushed, and hoped that Kinzy wouldn't notice. "We don't get to see each other very much, so when we do get to see each other, we try to spend as much time with each other as we can." She shook her head. "Unfortunately, this wasn't a very good time to be doing that. Frank is Joe's biggest source of support, and I took that away."

"So that means we're both human," Kinzy reminded her with a soft smile. Then she sighed again. "I only wish I didn't feel so guilty."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," Nancy said, looping her arm through Kinzy's. "Come on. I'm starved, and I can smell those scrambled eggs all the way in here!"

Kinzy laughed as they hurried through the dinning room. "You really remind me of Joe."

"Don't say that!" Nancy warned her as they approached the kitchen. "One of him is bad enough. Two..." She shuddered. "I don't even want to think about it."

Kinzy started to reply, but came to a dead halt as she came into the kitchen. Nancy, who also had to stop, turned to her. She was alarmed to see that the other girl's face had turned a deathly shade of white.

"Kinzy?" she said, concerned. But the younger girl said nothing, continuing to stare intently at something across the room. Nancy followed her gaze, trying to see what it was that captivated Kinzy's attention.

Joe was leaning against the far counter, his still damp hair shinning under the fluorescent light. He wore a pair of dark, ripped jeans, and a tight black shirt that made his blue eyes stand out.

"Kinzy!" he shouted, pushing away from the counter and rushing over to the distraught girl. "Kinzy, are you okay?"

"Ye-yeah." She shook her head, a little color returning to her face. "It's just that..." She looked Joe up and down before shaking her head yet again. "You look so much like Steve."

"I'm sorry," he said softly, giving her a quick squeeze. "I'll go change."

"No, no. It's okay." She caught him by the wrist before he could walk away from her. She gave him a faint smile. "That was Steve's favorite outfit. But I need to see that. It's good therapy. At least, that's what my shrink would say."

"Are you sure?" Joe asked, concern dancing in his blue eyes. "I can find something else. I didn't know--"

Kinzy laid a finger on his lips, shushing him. "Sssh. Don't worry about it, okay?" She smiled.

"Besides, you look great in it."

Joe smiled and took Kinzy's hand into both of his. "As long as it's okay with you, it's fine with me," he said. Then he kissed her on the forehead. "Come on," he said, putting one arm around Kinzy's shoulders and the other around Nancy's. "I'm starved. Let's eat!"

Fenton definitely didn't like the look on his son's face as Frank stomped out of the van, slamming the door behind him.

What's happened now? he wondered, standing. "Back so soon?" he asked casually, lifting an eyebrow.

Frank clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists. "That girl is nothing but a witch!" he practically shouted, stalking over to a log and plopping down.

Mr. Hardy blinked in surprise. "Nancy?" he asked, not believing that his son had just called a girl he deeply cared about a witch.

"No," Frank snapped, impatient. His anger at his brother had returned in full force. "Kinzy. Not only did Joe stay the night at her house, but now she's got Nancy over there, too! They must really be having fun without me around."

Fenton sighed and shook his head. Why, oh why did they have to become teenagers?

"Well, if they're having fun without you, who's to say you can't have fun without them?"

Frank blinked up at his father. "What do you mean?"

"We can still go fishing, you know." He gestured up to the overcast sky. "With weather like this, the fish will be really biting." He grinned. "What do you say? Just you and me, father and son. Joe won't know what he's missing."

A crafty smile spread across Frank's face, all traces of anger slipping away. "I think that's a great idea, Dad." He jumped to his feet and headed towards his tent. "I'll grab my gear if you'll get yours. Oh, and Dad? Don't take forever like you did yesterday morning. I'd like to at least fish a little bit before it gets dark."

Mr. Hardy chuckled. "I'm an old man, son. I have a right to be slow."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he mumbled, shaking his head before disappearing into his tent.

As soon as Fenton disappeared into his, he let out a deep sigh before dropping heavily onto his sleeping bag. He buried his face in his hands, mulling over everything that was happening, and wondering how he was going to deal with it.

Why couldn't kids have come with a handbook? I sure could use one about right now...

As Kinzy gathered cups and plates and began to set up the table--refusing to let the others help--Joe pulled Nancy aside and told her what had taken place the night before.

Nancy's eyes went wide at the news. "So someone is trying to kill her," she breathed, shooting a covert glance in Kinzy's direction. "When Frank started to talk to me last night, I got the distinct impression that he didn't believe that was true."

Joe snorted and rolled his eyes. "Why does that not surprise me the least bit? He probably tried to make you feel all sorry for him, right?"

Nancy nodded and blew her bangs out of her eyes. "Pretty much. But, to tell you the truth, I was starting to feel more sorry for you than for him by the time he got done."

Joe had to grin at that. "Thanks, Nan. It's nice to know that not all of my brother's friends are going to hate me." He paused. "What did you two fight about, anyways?"

Nancy sighed and shook her head. "It's a really long story. I'll tell you about it some other time."

Joe nodded. He understood Nancy's unspoken words clearly. They had fought because of him, and she didn't want him to feel guilty by telling him about it.

He was about to say something else, but stopped as Kinzy placed a bowl of hot biscuits in front of him, smiling smugly. He felt his mouth began to water, and suddenly his brain didn't want to work properly.

"Oh, Kinzy," Nancy said, breathing deeply. "This smells absolutely heavenly!"

"Thank you," the white-haired girl said with a grin, taking an empty chair next to Nancy. "Dig in! Eat it while it's hot. I'm not making anymore."

"I don't know if that's going to be enough," Nancy said with a wink at Kinzy as she reached for the bowl of eggs. "Apparently, you haven't seen Joe eat. He's got an appetite as big as Texas."

"Hey!" Joe protested, beginning to spread blackberry jam on a biscuit with a silver butter knife. "I need a lot of energy. I happen to have a very active lifestyle, you know. What with helping Dad and all."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Yeah doing all that paperwork is really strenuous." She had caught onto the fact that Kinzy had no idea that Joe was a detective, so she edged around it as best as she could.

Kinzy couldn't help but laugh at Joe's hurt expression. "I knew there was some reason I liked you, Nancy," she said, reaching for the plate of bacon which Joe had all but emptied. "Any girl who can put a guy in his place is all right by me."

Nancy gave the younger Hardy a smug smile. "Why, thank you, Nancy. I consider it one of my best talents."

Joe shook his head. "Women," he muttered in disgust, then bit into his biscuit for comfort.

Still grinning, Kinzy turned to Nancy. "Tell me about you," she asked. "I know about Joe's parents, but what does your mom and dad do?"

Nancy gave her a small smile. "My mom's dead," she said quietly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kinzy said, her face softening. "Do you mind talking about her? If you do, I'll shut up now."

"No, it's okay. She died when I was real little. I like to talk about her, actually. It helps me to remember."

"Okay." Kinzy nodded. "As long as it doesn't bother you." She paused. " What do you remember about her?"

Nancy sat back and stared into space, thinking for a long moment. "I remember her laugh," she said slowly. 'And her singing. To put me to sleep, she would either have to sing me a song or read me a story. And she used to laugh at me, at the stuff I did. I would start to laugh, too. It was a musical laugh. And her voice was beautiful, very sweet. I remember being very tired, but fighting to stay awake just to hear her sing. I loved her very much."

Across the table from where the girls sat, Joe had forgotten all about the food on his plate. He just sat there, watching and listening to Nancy in utter fascination.

"How did she die?" Kinzy asked, continuing to speak in a soft voice.

"She was killed," Nancy answered in a barely audible whisper. Then she shook her head. "My dad--he's a criminal lawyer. He had just finished up this huge trial against a local and very prominent politician. He had received a lot of threats against him and his family, but he didn't take them very seriously. He'd gotten a lot of threats before, and nothing had ever come of them. So he basically ignored these as well."

"What happened?"

"She was on her way to pick me up from kindergarten that day. A guy saw what happened from a bench nearby. He said that this unmarked sedan, the kind like the Feds use, just plowed into her from behind. She went through the guard rail and over the side of the road and just hung there, on the edge of this cliff. The guy in the sedan backed up and rammed her again, knocking her over the side."

She shook her head. "If that guy hadn't seen it happen, the police would have deemed it an accident."

She took a deep breath. "I also remember the funeral," Nancy admitted. "It was a closed casket. The car had burst into flames when it had landed, so she was in pretty bad shape. During the visitation, I asked Dad why couldn't I see her? He didn't answer me, so I decided to look for myself."

She closed her eyes. "I can remember what happened so clearly. I opened the lid of the casket just enough to let a little light stream through, and I-I saw her face. Most of her skin had been burned off. The rest was horriably scared. And her eyes were missing."

Nancy shook her head. "I dropped the lid and started screaming. I ran out of the funeral home as fast as I could, just shrieking. After my dad finally caught up with me, he had to take me home. I was that hysterical."

Nancy opened her eyes and seemed to stare off into space. "I only saw her face for a few seconds, but I remember it so clearly. I've had nightmares about it for years. I-I--"

She stopped as her voice began to break, then turned her face away so that the others couldn't see her tears.

Kinzy reached over and put her hand over Nancy's. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "I never should have asked you to do that. No one ever gets over a hurt like that."

Nancy smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. "Thanks, Kinzy. It was okay. Besides, I have this great housekeeper named Hannah, and she's just like a second mother to me."

"I'll always be here if you need to talk," the younger girl assured her.

"I'll remember that."

Kinzy smiled, gave Nancy's hand one last squeeze, then dropped it. "So," she said brightly, beginning to dump eggs onto her plate. "What do you guys want to do today? The park is at our command. Well, pretty much. It's kinda cloudy outside, so most people will be staying inside. And I don't have to work. The river is shut off today."

Joe was puzzled. "Shut off? What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, come on," she said teasingly. "You've gone down the Ocoee more than once, so you should know. They have a series of dams on that river so that they can use the water for hydroelectricity. So they can regulate the flow of water, they 'shut it off' every now and then. This river is the same way. And Thursday's the day we completely shut down, and don't take any trips down."

"Oh. I get it." Joe put more jam on what was left of his biscuit. "We could go swimming. We kind of got interrupted yesterday."

Kinzy screwed up her face. "Too cold, what with this weather and everything. Not even about to go climbing, and I doubt Nancy wants to go hiking."

Nancy shook her head. "Got that right."

"Well, I guess I could--"

She was cut off by a shrill ringing coming from the living room. Kinzy let out a weary sigh and pushed away from the table. "Even on my day off people won't leave me alone!" she grumbled as she vanished through the doorway.

Joe watched her disappear before turning back to his food. "This is some good food," he said, trying to keep Nancy's spirits up. "I've always been attracted to girls who know how to cook good. I know how to use a microwave. That's about the extent of my cooking knowledge, though."

Nancy couldn't help but laugh at him. "You remind me of Ned when you say that. He's always saying how he can't cook, but he sure makes a mean pan of lasagna."

"I know how to make a pizza," he admitted, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "That's about it. I mean, when I tried to make Frank's eighteenth birthday cake, I nearly burned he house down."

"I remember hearing about that. Frank said he laughed and laughed when he realized where all the smoke was coming from. He said it was a great way to end his eighteenth birthday."

Joe blushed. "Yeah. We had to have his party outside because the house smelt too bad. He kidded me about that all night. But he thanked me later for making his birthday an exciting one." He sighed. "Frank's an okay guy. He really is. He's just...difficult. I'm more emotional than he is. A lot more. And he doesn't know how to handle it. It disrupts his nice little world. So he handles it the only way he knows how, with strict professionalism. Detachment, if you will. That's the way he acts whenever anything unexpected happens." He shrugged. "But he's my brother, and I love him. Even when he gets like this."

Nancy opened her mouth to reply, but stopped when Kinzy walked back into the kitchen, her face as mask of worry and anger.

"What's wrong?" Joe asked as Kinzy came and sat back down.

"It looks like our' day's ruined," she said angrily, stabbing her eggs. "There's a rainstorm moving in this morning, and it's supposed to stall right over us. They expect the river to be flooded by afternoon. I'm on alert, as well as you guys."

Joe frowned. "Why us?"

"Because, when the river starts going up, we're going to have to get as many employees and campers as possible to put up sandbags."

"If it does flood, where will we go?" Nancy asked. "We can't stay in our tents. Will we have to evacuate?"

Kinzy shook her head. "No. We'll just have to move everyone to the lodge. Some employees even open their houses for people."

"Oh." Nancy twirled her hair, looking worried. "Do you think we should go tell our dads?" she asked looking at Joe. "You know, warn them?"

"I wouldn't worry about it," Kinzy answered her. "If it starts to look bad, we'll get them moved. There's no need to worry them just yet. Besides, we may need them later to help us put up sandbags. So it's okay."

Nancy nodded, looking relieved. "Good. I don't really want to go back, anyways. I might run into Frank and say or do something I might later regret." She turned to Joe. "No offense."

He held up his hands, palms out. "Hey, none taken. Believe me. He made me mad, too. I might punch his lights out. Again!"

Nancy gave him an impish grin. "Yeah. I saw the pretty marks you left on him. Too bad you didn't leave a few more."

Joe laughed. "You're so mean!" he said, his eyes sparkling. "I never knew you had it in you. Especially for Frank."

Nancy rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Your brother has got to be one of the most stubborn people I have ever met! He just...Ooh! He makes me so mad!"

"Me, too," Joe agreed softly. "Me, too."

Kinzy sighed. 'Well, if you guys are done, then I'll start cleaning up so we can get out of here."

Joe also pushed himself away from the table. "We're right behind you."

It only took them a few minutes to get the van loaded with their fishing poles and other necessary items. Fenton directed Frank to the nearest ranger station, where they asked about the best places to fish. The ranger gave them a map, but warned them about a bad rainstorm moving in and asked them to keep an eye on it. Fenton promised that they would, and they were soon on their way.

"So which place looks best, Dad?" Frank asked as he navigated the van down the dusty street. There were only a few vehicles out, mostly ATVs. Frank found himself watching for the telltale signs of Kinzy's white hair, but didn't know why. She and Joe were the last two people he wanted to see at the moment.

His father scrunched up his nose as he studied the map the ranger had given him earlier. "I don't know. There's one kind of close to the campsite in case it does start to rain. But it's pretty big. There might be a lot of people there. Then there's one a little further off, but it's a lot smaller. Much more private."

"Then I say let's go to that one."

Fenton nodded. "All right then. You just drive, and leave the navigating to me. And you can start by taking the next right."

"Sure thing." Frank turned on his blinker, then slowed to a crawl before turning the van down a narrow dirt road. He winced as the left front tire struck a pothole, jarring the van. "I hate these backroads," he grumbled.

His father grinned. "You might as well get used to it. It's like this pretty much the whole way there."

Frank sighed and shook his head. "Figures."

"Ah, come on. This gives you a chance to check out those shocks that Joe put in here last week. See if they're worth the money he paid for them."

"Doesn't feel like it," Frank said, bracing himself for the next pothole. "This thing's shaking every time it hits a rut. I don't know if I'll be able to walk when we get there."

"You'll probably be glad to get out and walk when we get there," Fenton said dryly. "I know I will. Turn left here."

That was the way the rest of the trip down the backroads lasted; Frank grumbling about the potholes and his father finding the humor in it all. He found himself growing extremely frustrated, and was more than relieved when the sparkling waters of the small lake came into view.

"Finally!" Frank cheered as he pulled the van off to the side. "I don't think my legs could have taken much more."

"Mine either." Fenton carefully slid out of the van, feeling his legs shake as they hit the ground. Then he straitened up and sighed. It felt good to be able to stretch his legs.

Frank walked around to open the sliding door and began unloading all their fishing equipment. "Where do you think we should sit, Dad?" he asked, surveying the lake. "We got the whole place to ourselves. There's no one else here!"

"Good thing, huh?" Mr. Hardy also looked the lake over. "Hmm. What about that spot right over there?" he asked pointing to a little nook about three-fourths of the way around. "It's got some protection in case it starts to slightly rain. And it looks kind of murky over there. The fish like to hang out in places like that."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Frank hefted his pole and tacklebox and began to walk over to the spot that had been picked out.

Mr. Hardy watched him go, feeling sad. I wish he'd be this excited about the rest of the trip.

With a sigh, he shook. Think positive, Hardy. This is going to be a happy day. With that, he leaned down, picked up the rest of the stuff, and began to follow Frank around.

Kinzy lead them outside to stop just outside the garage, then turned to Joe, two keys in her hand.

"You do know how to drive a four-wheeler, right?"

He gave her an odd look. "I drove it yesterday, didn't I?"

"Oh, yeah. Right." She blushed. "Sorry. My brain's a little fogged over. Anyways." She held up the two keys, one in each hand. "This one's to open the shed, and this one's the ignition key. You get to pull it out while I get my vehicle."

Joe looked worried. "Are you going to be okay? Does your arm hurt?"

"I'll be fine," she assured him. "Now, go get it! I want to get out of here, you know."

Joe grinned and gave her a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am!" he said smartly, then darted around the wall before Nancy got the chance to smack him on the arm.

Kinzy rolled her eyes. "Men," she said in disgust. "They're all the same." She began walking towards the door to the garage.

Nancy giggled as she followed the white-haired girl through the door. "So, what kind of car do you drive?"

Kinzy grinned, her silver eyes sparkling. "I don't have a car," she said as she flicked on the light. "I have a Harley."

Nancy's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets as the light fell on the powerful bike that sat in the middle of the garage, making it shine.

"Wow," she said in an awed whisper. "It's beautiful."

Kinzy grinned proudly. "Thanks. it was actually Steve's, but he gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. She's my pride and joy." She walked forward to run her hand across the leather seat. "Everything," she whispered.

Nancy started to step forward, but stopped when she heard an odd creaking noise. Puzzled, she looked around, but saw nothing that could cause it. Then she hard it again. It was louder this time, and coming from somewhere above her.

Nancy looked up, and her eyes widened in horror when she saw one of the huge lights swinging crazily about. That's when she realized what was happening.

The light was about to break and fall, and Kinzy was standing right underneath it!

Promises Made