Overhead a sea gull screeched. The blustery wind off the Pacific Ocean swirled around the boats docked at the Yacht Harbor of San Francisco Bay. Distantly came the clang of a cable car, the one climbing the steep hill of Hyde Street.

A light blue Continental with a leather-grained top of dark blue was wheeled expertly into the parking lot in front of the harbor. The driver, a stunningly beautiful, titian-haired woman in her mid-thirties, braked the car precisely between the white parking lines and switched off the motor. As she reached for the door handle, emerald green eyes nicked to the silent girl in the passenger seat.

'It's quite chilly outside, Sabrina. It probably would be best if you waited in the car while I see if your father is back.' It was a statement, not a suggestion that the woman made.

Sabrina Lane opened her mouth to protest. She was tired of being treated as an invalid. With a flash of insight, she realized that Deborah was not concerned about her health as much as she was about spending some time alone with Sabrina's father.

'Whatever you say, Deborah,' she submitted grudgingly, her right hand closing tightly over the smooth handle of her oak cane.

The silent moments following Deborah's departure grated at Sabrina's already taut nerves. It was difficult enough to endure her own physical restrictions without having her father's girlfriend place others on her, regardless of the motive.

Her father's girlfriend. One corner of her wide mouth turned up wryly at the phraseology. Her father had had many women friends since her mother died when Sabrina was seven. But Deborah Mosley was not just another woman. If it had not been for Sabrina's accident some eight months ago, Deborah would have already been her new stepmother.

Prior to the accident, Sabrina had thought it was terrific that her father had found someone he wanted to marry. Deborah Mosley wouldn't have been Sabrina's choice, although she liked her, but that hadn't mattered not as long as her father was happy.

That was before the accident, when Sabrina had been totally independent. She had had a place of her own, a very small apartment, but it had been hers. She had had a career, not a lucrative one, but she could have supported herself.

Now--the word screamed with its own despairing wail. It would be a long time, if ever, before Sabrina could say any of that again.

'Why me?' a sobbing, self-pitying voice asked silently. 'What did I ever do to deserve this? Why me?'

Her throat tightened with pain at the unanswerable question. There was simply too much time to think. Too much time to think about the 'what-might-have-beens' and the 'if-onlys.' The damage was done and irreparable, as specialist after specialist had told Sabrina and her father. She would be incapacitated for the rest of her life and there was nothing, barring a miracle, that could ever be done to change it.

A seed of rebellion stirred to life. An anger seethed to the surface that she might forever sit in cars and stay at home while someone else decided what was best for her.

A sickening thought sprang to mind. Suppose, Sabrina thought, that Deborah's wish to be alone with her father was not prompted by a desire for some romantic moments but part of a plan to persuade him to send her away to that rehabilitation home? Rehabilitation--the word always made her feel like a criminal.

'Please, God,' Sabrina prayed, 'don't let Daddy listen to her. I don't want to go to that place. Surely there must be an alternative besides another school.'

She felt guilty praying to God for help. It hurt to need anyone to help her. She had always been so completely self-sufficient. Now she was constantly depending on someone. At this very minute, Deborah might be persuading her father to send her to another school and she was sitting in the car, accepting her fate by the very fact that she was not participating in the discussion but calling on someone else to intercede on her behalf.

Thousands of times Sabrina had walked from the parking lot of the harbor to the slip where her father tied his boat. It wasn't that great a distance. If she remained calm and took her time, there was no reason why she couldn't traverse it again.

Artistically long fingers tightened the cord of the striped tunic and adjusted the rolled collar of the navy dark turtleneck she wore underneath. The wind whistled a warning outside. She ran a smoothing hand up to the back of her head to be certain her mink-brown hair was securely fastened in its knot atop her head.

Taking a deep breath to still the quivering excitement racing through her, Sabrina opened the door and swung her long legs on to the pavement. With the car door closed behind her and the cane firmly in her grasp, she moved slowly in the direction of the harbor fence. The icy tendrils of fear dancing down her spine added to the adventurous thrill of her small journey.

Emboldened by her initial success, Sabrina unconsciously began to hurry. She stumbled over a concrete parking stop and couldn't regain her balance. The cane slipped from her hand, skittering away as she sprawled on to the pavement.

Excitement disappeared immediately, leaving only black fear. Her shaking fingers reached for the cane, but it was out of her grasp. Except for the shock to her senses, there was no pain. She wasn't hurt, but how was she going to make her way to the dock without the cane?

'Damn, damn, damn!' Sabrina cursed her own foolishness for making the attempt in the first place.

If her father found her like this, it would only increase the apparent validity of Deborah's argument that Sabrina needed more professional help. Propping herself up on one elbow, she tried to check the rising terror that was leading her toward panic and think her way out of this predicament rationally.

'Are you all right?' The low, masculine voice offering concern was laced with amusement.

Sabrina's head jerked in the direction from which it had come, embarrassed red surging into her cheeks that a stranger should find her and humiliation that she was forced to seek his help.

The triangular line of her chin, tapering from prominent cheekbones and square jaw, tilted to a proud angle. 'I'm not hurt,' she asserted quickly, then grudgingly, 'My cane, would you get it for me?'

'Of course.' The amusement disappeared.

The instant the cane was retrieved Sabrina reached out to take it from him, not wanting to endure the mortification of his pity and hoping a quick 'thank you' would send him on his way. As her outstretched hand remained empty, her cheeks flamed darker.

A pair of strong hands slipped under her arms and bodily lifted her to her feet before she could gasp a protest. Her fingers touched the hard flesh of his upper arms, covered by the smooth material of his windbreaker. The salty tang of the ocean breeze mingled with the spicy after-shave cologne and his virile masculine scent. Sabrina was tall, nearly five foot seven, but the warm breath from his mouth stirred the bangs covering her wide forehead, making him easily six inches taller than she.

Her cane, hooked over his arm, tapped the side of her leg. 'Please let me go,' she said crisply while her fingers closed over the cane and lifted it from his arm.

'Nothing sprained but your pride, is that it?' the man mocked gently, loosening his grip on her slim waist and letting his hands fall away.

Sabrina smiled tautly, keeping her luminous brown eyes, that sometimes seemed too large for her face, averted from the man's face. His pity she didn't need.

'Thank you for your help,' she murmured unwillingly as she took a hesitant step backward.

Turning away, she waited for interminable seconds for him to continue wherever it was that he was going. She could feel his eyes on her back and guessed that he was waiting to be certain she hadn't hidden an injury from the fall.

Afraid that he might feel compelled because of her need for the cane to offer further assistance, Sabrina stepped out boldly. The shocking blare of a horn simultaneously accompanied by the squeal of car brakes paralyzed her. A steel band circled her waist and roughly pulled her back.