"I really came over to see what was wrong. I heard a lot of commotion. What happened?"

"Oh, no real damage done. It looks like a pack of dogs trampled my paints. It was my own fault. I didn't put everything away yesterday." She watched the sunlight and shadows stroke Kevin's face, pointing out a dimple in his cheek, a stroke of brow, a sparkle in his eyes. Her fingers itched to draw him.

"You're an artist," he said, the words a statement, not a question.

"Yes. I've been drawing since I was a little girl." She felt like a child as she spoke to him, awkward and embarrassed.

"I wasn't aware the house had new owners."

"Oh. I'm just a guest. Yes, I'll be staying here for a while, just for a couple of months or so." She felt more and more flustered.

"Well, it's nice to have a neighbor. Especially such a pretty one." He grinned and leaned back against the railing, his hands in his pockets. "Have you been here long?"

"No, not really." She started to clean her brush.

"What brought you here?"

"Umm… It's a long story. Could I get you something to drink? Perhaps an iced tea?" she asked. Oh, God, she thought. How stupid.

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"No, thank you," he replied. He walked across the terrace and lifted her roll of drawings. "Do you mind?" he asked as he began to flip through them without waiting for her to answer. "Very nice. Not bad at all," he said.

"I've been trying to capture the feeling of surprise in those," she replied. "It's for a competition. I'll keep on sketching children's faces until I come up with something really expressive, something that satisfies me."

He nodded, then went through the sketches again, one at a time and with care. He said nothing as he returned them.

"Would you like to take a walk?" he asked. "I believe I should play host, and show you around the area."

"That would be nice."

"The scenery from the hills is spectacular. I expect you've discovered that for yourself. I know of one spot in particular. It was a lookout for pirates."

"Pirates!"

"Yes. The Saracens-the Moors, I mean-scouted these waters. Some of the defensive walls are still up, and so are the lookout posts." He brushed a lock of grey-flecked hair away from his forehead, and turned toward the hills. "The howl, Mamma, Li Turki, would alert the people. They would run into the hills to find refuge. The Saracens mainly raided the coast for fresh water and food. They stayed away from the hills." He pointed to a distant part of the landscape. "The tunnels and shelters built at that time are still around. You can still walk through them today. Very solid. They were reinforced with stone walls."




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