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coffee pot sculptures hung on the walls above every booth. Coffee pots were everywhere, cut out on the back of the wrought iron chairs, the cream pitchers and even the salt and pepper shakers were miniature pots, and the menus were cut in the same shape. Shelves around the walls held various coffee pots in every shape and color, from cast-iron to glass, ceramic and other various metals. Most of them looked antique. Someone had a unique idea. They even brought the bill in a small coffeepot.
    Waiters and patrons all eyed her. Rebecca almost laughed at their curiosity. They waved and said hello to Jeremy. Everyone seemed to like and respect him. He introduced her to their waitress.
    “Vanessa Johnson is David and Sarah Morris’s great-great-granddaughter.”
    The pretty teenager blushed as Jeremy made the introductions.
    “Vanessa goes to the local college, but she should be going to an art institute.” He tweaked Sarah’s freckled nose.
    Vanessa lowered her eyes and ran her fingers through her curly red hair, looking self-conscious at the compliment. She took their order and hurried away.
    “I didn’t mean to embarrass her,” Jeremy said, “but she does have a talent, and it’s going to be wasted if she doesn’t use it. Problem is her parents don’t see it and don’t encourage her.”
    They ate in a comfortable silence, interrupted by a few curious onlookers bold enough to speak to Jeremy, which, of course, called for an introduction. Rebecca felt like she was on display.
    “It’s not like they don’t see strangers,” Jeremy said after one such intrusion. “I think everyone is just curious about the pretty blonde who has captivated one of Morrisville’s finest.”
    Heat crept into her cheeks. Captivated? It was more than that, but he didn’t know it yet. Rebecca already knew; not only was Jeremy her mind connection, they were meant for each other.
     
    Lunch over, they continued with their tour, stopping at a log house. Rebecca recognized it from the Internet site. “They say it was David Morris’s first home.” Jeremy seemed to delight in sharing the town’s history.
    Rebecca recognized many buildings from her dreams. They walked through the town while he pointed out special places of interest. Everything looked so familiar; it was as if she lived here.
    “There’s the Music House, built in 1877.” He pointed.
    The magnificent building appeared in many of her dreams. She looked at it for a long time before moving on. She wondered what it would have been like to live back then.
    “Can you imagine what it must have been like in the 1800s? I mean think about it; look at all we take for granted,” Jeremy said.
    Rebecca swore he read her mind. “It’s hard to imagine not having electricity, water, gas, or even mail.” She stopped and looked up at the Music House again. “Let alone the Internet or email. Now we have text messages and eBook readers. Not to mention what would we do without cellphones?” She enjoyed the history and the way Jeremy related it to her with pride. He obviously loved the town and all it held for him, and yet, the nagging danger wouldn’t leave her. Her hair stood on end as they crossed an alleyway.
    Jeremy paused and looked down the alley before they crossed over.
    Rebecca trembled. This was where it happened. They walked in front of the jewelry store. Dread and fear overpowered her, and she hurried to get past the spot.
    Jeremy’s pace stepped up also. Maybe he realized the reaction she experienced.
    “That was the place, wasn’t it?” she asked for confirmation, though she didn’t need to.
    He nodded. “Come on, I want to show you something.” He hurried her across the street, led her a few blocks away, stopped, and pointed at a building.
    “The Junior High School had been built in 1900. Plans for a new one are underway. It’s almost a shame, but they plan to turn the building into offices, so at least they won’t tear it down.”
    “I’m glad to hear that. I