She could see that: two men who imagined themselves medieval knights, fighting a mock battle, losing their tempers and really going at it. “What is the sword’s name?”

“It’s a...sword.”

“This sword should have a name!”

“Whoever buys it can give it a name.”

“Let me think on it.” She tapped her lip, then laughed. “How about ‘S and P’?”

“Salt and pepper?”

“Sharp and pointy!”

“As I said, it’s not sharp although it is—”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“Whoever buys it can give it a name,” he repeated.

She put her hand on his wrist. “You will be careful, won’t you? In this mock battle?”

He looked surprised. “Of course. I’ve been assured the other reenactor is a professional. It will be a sedate demonstration.”

“I’d love to see that!” It struck her that, if she didn’t improve, she might very well be here to see it. “My God. What’s going to happen to me?” At once she realized that was selfish, and she added, “I can’t stay and be a burden on you forever.”

“You’re not a burden.” He pulled down the garage door and locked it. Taking her arm once more, he led her toward the house. “Today you made a breakthrough. Tomorrow we’ll let Rune work her magic again.”

The breeze off the ocean smelled like salt and the world made new and reinforced her feeling of strength and peace. Cheered, she said, “I’m not afraid right now.”

“Right now, if your monster sprang out at you, what would you do?” he asked in a conversational tone.

Instant terror gripped her. The hulking man gripped her throat with his strong, murderous fingers. She was blind, helpless, immobile.

Adam took her hand.

Elle came out of her paralysis, but the joy in the evening was gone, replaced by the familiar gnawing fear, the pain in her throat, her joints, her ribs and hips.

“That, what you’re doing now. Responding with panic.” Adam’s voice was calm, encouraging. “Don’t do that. Keep your wits about you.”

“I don’t have any wits left.” She wasn’t even trying to be funny.

“You do. You have a bright spirit that was crushed in a moment of savagery.”

“A bright spirit?” She had a bright spirit?

“The spirit’s still there. You simply have to unearth it. Remember, bravery is being the only one who knows you’re afraid.”

“Is running away a good way to handle a fight?” she said, trying to joke.

“It’s the best way.”

That surprised her. “Really? Because I could be really good at that.”

“This man, whoever he is, has big hands. I can tell by the fingerprints on your neck. You’re in good shape. You lift weights.”

Yes, he would know that. He’d viewed the whole package, and his assessment brought her fear down a notch.