“Oh, darling, I was just about gone over Harrison Ford back in my day.”

  “Really?”

  “And I still wouldn’t turn him away from the door today—especially if he came calling wearing that Indiana Jones hat.”

  “Is that why you have the complete set of DVDs?”

  Lucy sent her a sly, sidelong smile. “A woman’s entitled to her fantasies. And a teenage girl, too. You didn’t know him, not the man—well, hardly more than a boy himself back then. You knew his music, what they wrote about him, what he said in interviews and such, but that’s an image. Now you know him.”

  “I’m starting to, so something else is stirring up. But I don’t know how long Riggs will hold off pushing at me, or how to explain any of that. And I’d have to, wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t I have to if something comes of what’s stirring up?”

  “Would you want someone who didn’t accept you for who you are?”

  “No, but … I’ve been so careful. After I told Asher—”

  “You didn’t deserve what that boy said, what he did. And he sure as hell didn’t deserve you.”

  “No, I didn’t, and no, he didn’t. But it left a mark.”

  Thea’s hands worked on the shells as she thought it through. “I’ve told myself what happened with Asher was, in the long run, a good thing. It taught me to be more careful, and I have been. But I haven’t been really serious about anyone since. I think this could be serious, for me.”

  “You’ll do what you need when you need.”

  Over where Bray talked to the goat, Bunk let out a woof. His tail wagged with it, but he stayed beside the boy.

  Lucy chin-pointed as she continued to shell.

  “That’s Nadine coming down from the hills, both kids in tow.” She started to smile in welcome, then her face went to stone. “Goddamn it, she’s sporting a black eye. Favoring her left hip.”

  “I see that.”

  Thea laid a hand on Lucy’s, and together they saw more.

  The angry man lashing out, the crying children, the woman weeping as she fell.

  “Not for the first time.” Lucy’s voice rang cold. “And it won’t be the last.” Sighing, she set the peas aside and rose. “We’ll do what we can for her.”

  She’d gone to school with Rem, Thea remembered. A year behind him, and now she had a little girl about Bray’s age, a boy not quite two, and an aura of such resignation clouded over her it broke the heart.

  Thea went in to get cookies for the children and sweet tea for their mother.

  “Miss Lucy.” Nadine shifted the thumb-sucking, towheaded baby on her hip. “I hope we’re not disturbing you.”

  “No such thing. Why, Adalaide, that’s the prettiest dress I ever saw.”

  “Mama made it.”

  “It’s sure pretty. Let me see this little man. My, my, he’s growing, isn’t he? Curtis Lee, what’s that thumb doing in your mouth?”

  “I just can’t get him to stop, Miss Lucy.”

  “Because it tastes so good. But look here, Thea’s got something for you tastes even better. You sit down, Nadine, have some sweet tea.”

  “We shouldn’t stay, Miss Lucy.” Nadine tucked a stray wisp of strawberry blond hair behind her ear. “I was hoping I could get some of that balm you brought up last time, and some oatmeal soap. I got the money.”

  “You put your money away.”

  “We can’t take the charity.”

  “Adalaide, this is Braydon. He lives just down the road, in what was Miss Leona’s house. Bray, you take Adalaide over and tell her the names of all the chickens you can remember.”

  “Okay. Can I have a cookie, too?”

  Thea handed him one.

  “This is Bunk,” he told the little girl. “He’s the biggest dog in the world. We play fetch.”

  When the girl walked off with Bray, Lucy nodded. “You let those two children get acquainted, and that’s payment. That boy’s an honorary grandchild to me, and he needs playmates. Thea, take Curtis Lee. Nadine, you come inside. I’ll make a cold poultice for that eye, and I want a look at your hip.”

  Tears rolled. “He didn’t mean it, Miss Lucy. Jed didn’t mean it. It’s just he’d worked all day, and I hadn’t finished the chores and the kids were acting up. I was feeling a little poorly and I didn’t have supper ready either.”

  “And you think that’s cause for your husband to use his fist on you?”

  “He was sorry after. He didn’t mean it.”

  Lucy handed the baby to Thea. “Come inside. You’re carrying again, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know for sure. Maybe. Am I?”

  Thea heard Lucy sigh again as she led Nadine into the kitchen.

  Thea jiggled the baby, then carried him over to the coop with the other children to give Nadine and her grandmother privacy.

  An hour later, Nadine walked toward home with a basket holding the balm, the soap, some fresh vegetables, some ginger tea for morning sickness, some biscuits and slices of roast chicken to feed her family supper.

  “I had to take her money.”

  Thea rubbed Lucy’s shoulder as Bray stood out in the yard waving and calling bye.

  “You gave her more than she paid for, and let her keep her pride.”

  “She’ll have another mouth to feed come spring.”

  “She won’t leave him.”

  “She loves him. He never raises a hand to the children, she says, and I saw that for truth. What he needs is a good talking-to.”

  “Don’t, Grammie.”

  “No, I know better. Only make it worse for her. I need some brightening. Braydon Brennan! Do you know where carrots come from?”

  “Grocery store.”

  “Before they get there.”

  At his shrug, a mimic of his father’s, she smiled. “Well, I’m going to show you.”

  Brightening happened when a little boy laughed so hard he fell on his ass in the garden when Lucy pulled up a carrot.

  Thea took Bray home with another basket.

  “Carrots grow in the ground. Tomatoes don’t.”

  “That’s exactly right.”

  “Peas come in a…”

  “Shell.”

  “I like peas. I like carrots. Daddy gets them from the freezer and zaps them. I got so many friends. I got Lucas and Rolan and Adalaide. She’s a girl.”

  “She is?”

  “Uh-huh. I run now.”

  Since they’d reached the lane, Thea set him down, and shook out her arm. The kid had some weight to him.

  “Daddy! I got carrots out of the ground!”

  “What were they doing there?”

  “I dunno, but I got them. And peas that come in a shell. I want peas and carrots for dinner.”

  “Sure.” On the front porch, Ty scooped him up, kissed him.

  “Adalaide has red hair, and she’s a girl.”

  “Is she? Who’s Adalaide?” he asked Thea.

  “A girl about his age. She came down with her mother to get some balm and soap.” She held out the basket. “From Grammie.”

  “Thanks. Ah.” He looked inside. “We’ve got soap, too. And carrots, a couple tomatoes. I think maybe a turnip, an onion.”

  “I played farmer with Grammie.”

  “I see that.”

  “Peas, fresh shelled,” Thea added. “In the container there.”

  “Wow.”

  “You don’t know how to cook fresh peas and carrots.”

  “Not a clue.”

  He looked over at her, the tiny dimple coming out as he smiled. As they smiled, Thea corrected, boy and man, twin dimples.

  “I was going to toss some burgers on the grill. If I toss one for you, you could demonstrate.”

  “I’ll take a burger as payment, but you have to pay attention. It’s not hard.”

  “So you say.” He set Bray down. “Go on, get your trucks.”

  When the screen door slammed behind him, Ty took Thea’s face in his hands. He held her gaze as he had before, then laid his mouth on hers.

  No good-night-neighbor this time. Still light, light and slow and dreamily soft. Dreamily enough, Thea lifted her hands, curled them around his wrists as if to keep herself anchored.

  “I wanted to finish that, from before. If I kissed you after dinner, you might think it was a thanks for making peas and carrots.”

  “A thanks for that would be nice, too.”

  “Come on in.” He took her hand. “See my new couch.”

  After stepping in, she found herself seriously impressed.

  He’d gone with a kind of wheat color on a low-slung couch that suited the size of the room, added two chairs in a subtle navy-and-wheat print. He’d arranged them with tables, lamps that said easy, cozy.

  In the weeks while he’d put the house in order, he’d given the old wood floors a good lick of polish, spread a rug over it with deeper tones of that wheat, lighter of the blue.

  A number of toy vehicles and figures were scattered over it.

  “There was a terrible and tragic accident earlier.”

  “I see that, and I see this is a lot more than a new couch. I know you’ve been clearing and cleaning, but this is a transformation. And still you’ve kept some of Miss Leona’s little treasures.”

  She saw the familiar on shelves, the mantel, the tables among framed photos, books, and mementos he must have brought with him.

  “You did right by her. Right by Braydon, and made yourself a home. That’s an accomplishment.”

  “It’s a start. The walls need paint, and I should’ve dealt with that before the rest, but…”

  “You’re not ready to have a crew in here.”

  “Just not. And when I look at paint samples, my brain shuts down, so it’ll wait. Meanwhile, Bray wants his room painted red. We’re talking fire-engine red. So I’m holding off until I talk him out of it.”

  “I spent years planning my house, right down to dickering with myself over door hinges. Who notices door hinges? You’ve done a lot in a month’s time. You need some pillows.”

  His hands slid into his pockets. “But do I really?”

  “And a pretty throw for the couch. And right now, we need to peel these carrots.”

  She started back toward the kitchen, then stopped at what had been a little sitting room. At the moment it held a desk and chair, stacks of boxes.

  “Home office-slash-library. Maybe. Not sure.”

  “A good spot for that.”

  She walked back to the kitchen, where Bunk sprawled on the floor and Bray used his long, wide back as a road for his truck.

  She deemed the kitchen reasonably clean and moderately well organized. But the former dining room with its piano, guitar stands, guitar cases, control board, sound system, music cabinet, needed help.

  “You need more space.”

  “Well, yeah. This works for now. If we hang around, I’ll need to add on an actual studio. Maybe take that wall down. I don’t know. Depends.”

  “I’d say it’s easier to know and decide after you’ve lived in the space awhile.”

  “That’s my thinking. Plus, procrastinating.”

  When he set the basket on the counter, she started unpacking it.

  “You can set the oven on 425, and get that peeler.”

  “And by peeler, you mean?”

  She looked over as he turned on the oven. “What you use to peel carrots, potatoes, and the like. I can use a paring knife, but I know Miss Leona had a peeler.”

  “A paring knife is … Okay, I’m messing with you.” He opened a drawer, produced a potato peeler. “We also like carrots raw with dip, so peeler.”

  “All right, see if you can find another. Then all we need for these are butter, pepper, and thyme. The herb.”

  “I got butter. Not yours because we devoured that, but I’ve got butter and pepper. The only time I’ve got comes in minutes.”

  She shook her head. “Get some scissors and step outside with me a minute.”

  When he did, she pointed at what remained of Miss Leona’s herb patch. “You got thyme right here. This patch needs weeding.”

  Frowning, Ty just stared at it. “You’d have to know what’s a weed and what’s a thing, then what the thing is.”

  “Yes, you would. We can have that lesson after dinner.”

  She snipped thyme.

  As they went in, boy and dog ran out. “We run!”

  “Stay where I can see you.”

  She walked Ty through the process, then slid the dish of carrots in the oven to roast in herbs and butter.

  “Got potatoes?” she asked him.

  “Sure.” Opening a cupboard, he pulled out a box of instant mashed potatoes.

  “Absolutely not. Ever. Put that away before I lose all respect for you.”

  “They’re not that bad.”

  “Away. You’re better off telling me you do wet work for the CIA than showing me dried-up boxed potato flakes.”

  “It was only one job—well, two, but they both had it coming. How about these?” After digging in the freezer, he held up bags. One of Tater Tots, one of frozen fries.

  “Tyler, that just makes me sad. We’ll go with the fries. I can doctor them up some. Put them back for now. The peas won’t take long, but those carrots need a while. We can make the patties. Do you have an egg?”

  “I’ve got a couple left. For what?”

  “Since I’m here. We need a bowl for mixing the meat and egg, a little rosemary—you’ve got a nice little bush out there. Salt, pepper.”

  “I usually just sort of—” He lifted his hands, opened and closed those long fingers. “Smoosh.”

  “You can do that, or … Why don’t you beat up an egg? I’ll get the rosemary.”

  When she came back, she stripped the rosemary from the stem, chopped it fine. Standing hip-to-hip, she showed him how to mix it all in a bowl.

  “You always smell so good.”

  “That’s the rosemary.”

  “It doesn’t hurt, but no, it’s you. I’ve got a weakness for women who smell good.”

  She tipped her face up to his. “I’ll have to thank Grammie’s soaps and lotions for giving me that advantage.”

  As he lowered his head, Bray called out from outside the screen door.

  “How come you kiss her? She got a hurt?”

  “No. I’m kissing her because she’s pretty, she smells good, and she’s helping make dinner.”

  “Okay. We’re thirsty.”

  “One sec.” He finished the kiss.

  By the time he’d washed his hands, filled a cup with water and ice, she’d formed four perfect patties.

  “How’d you do that? Mine are more manly, meaning misshapen.”

  “I guess I have a more delicate, feminine touch.”

  “You’ve got something.” He looked around the room. “This is nice. Usually kitchen time is a chore for me. Figuring out what to toss in the oven, or the mic or on the grill. Cleaning it all up until I do it again.

  “This is nice.”

  “I like kitchen time. But if I’m not up at Grammie’s, or I don’t have family or friends over, it’s just me. So yeah, this is nice. You need to stir up those carrots.”

  “I can do that. Stirring up’s one of my skills.”

  Wasn’t it just, she thought. He’d stirred her up with no effort at all.

  She doctored up the fries, slid them into the oven while he started the grill. Then sliced up one of the tomatoes, fanned it on a small plate.

  They sat together at the picnic table, with Ty spooning the peas and carrots onto Bray’s plate.

  “Why do they look like that?”

  “Because they’re fresh.”

  “I don’t like fresh.”

  “You don’t know yet. And that’s your carrot right there. The one you pulled out of the ground.”

  Dubious, and Thea saw tears ready, Bray got some on his spoon. “Okay.” He took the tiniest bite possible, then another. “It’s yum, Daddy. I like fresh.”

  Ty breathed out. “Crisis averted.”

  “And Daddy knows how to make them fresh now.”

  “Thanks.” Shooting Thea a look, Ty cut a burger in half, then half again. Added the two quarters and some fries to his son’s plate.

  “I like fries. These are more yum than yours, Daddy. Bunk’s hungry, too.”

  Thea’s mouth dropped open when Ty tossed the dog one of the spare quarters of burger. Bray gave out a gut laugh, then ate more peas and carrots.

  “His limit’s half.” Ty shrugged. “And Bunk’s hungry.”

  “Don’t—”

  But he’d already tossed the dog the second quarter.

  “Bunk likes burgers. I like burgers. It’s more yum, Daddy.”

  Ty sampled his own. “Yeah, it is. Beat an egg with it?”

  “And rosemary. Or you can use other herbs. Bray, I bet you can play farmer with your daddy and help weed the herb patch.”

  “Okay. More.” Turning to Ty, Bray opened his mouth.

  And when Ty spooned more peas and carrots into that waiting mouth, it plucked every string in Thea’s heart.

  “More than that?”

  “Okay.”

  Ty added another serving to his plate. “Now look what you’ve done,” he said to Thea. “You’re going to put Birds Eye out of business. We used to swear by them.”

  “Buy some actual potatoes, and I’ll show you how to make hand cut fries.”

  “So, you’re after Ore-Ida, too? What’s next? Chef Boyardee, Tombstone?”

  “One step at a time.”

  Once Bray cleaned his plate and played chase with Bunk, she helped Ty deal with the dishes.

  “He ate three servings of vegetables. That’s a record.”

  “Grammie has more in the garden, and so do I. He’s welcome to whatever he’ll eat. Listen, I shouldn’t’ve given you a hard time about the frozen and the boxes. It sounded so critical when I—”

  “I didn’t take it that way.” Taking her by the hips, Ty turned her. “And he ate three helpings. Plus, I had someone lifting the heavy weight. I’ll weed the damn herb patch.”

  “Good, that’s—”

  When he kissed her this time, everything stopped. And everything started. Not so light now, not with the heat rising. His hands slid up her sides, lingered there for five galloping beats of her heart before gliding to her back to draw her closer.