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“Thanks for everything, Doc.”
    After Dr. Crosby disappeared into his office, Jarvis leaned down to whisper to his friend, “Jake, do you need anything?”
    Jake popped one eye back open. “By tomorrow I’ll be bored out of my wits. Come by if you get a chance, so I can beat you at chess.”
    â€œIn your dreams, buddy, but it’s a deal. I might even sneak in some decent food.”
    â€œI heard that!” Dr. Crosby poked his head back out. “Make sure there’s enough for me, too, or I’ll restrict his diet and eat it anyway. Jake’s not the only one who gets tired of the stuff they serve around here.”
    â€œWill do, Doc. See you tomorrow, Jake.”
    â€œI’ll try to have something for you by then.”
    â€œThanks. I appreciate it.”
    Once he had Jake’s research and time to wash Chase’s shirt, he’d have all the excuse he needed to pay another call on the Moselys.
    Â 
    Snapping beans allowed Gwen an excuse to sit on the screened-in porch for a much needed rest. She settled into her grandmother’s old rocker as Dozer flopped down in his favorite spot right under the ceiling fan. She smiled and reached out with her bare toes to rub his back. He groaned and rolled over to give her better access to his belly.
    â€œSilly dog. I’ve got better things to do than pet you.”
    That was true, but it didn’t stop her from giving him a good scratch and rub. He rewarded her witha quick slurp of his tongue before settling in for his afternoon nap.
    The dog had the right idea. It was too hot and muggy to do much moving around. She eyed the book she’d set on the table, then the bowl of beans. The vegetables won, but only barely. After finishing the beans, she would put them on to simmer and fix herself another glass of iced tea. Then she’d settle into the rocker and read. She could water the vegetable garden later.
    She fell into the easy rhythm of snapping the beans as she rocked. The fan kept the air moving enough to keep the heat bearable. Other than the beans, she’d planned a cold dinner of leftover fried chicken, potato salad, and sliced fruit.
    A few minutes later, Dozer lifted his head and sniffed the air. He whined and lumbered to his feet. After pushing the screen door open with his nose, he headed up the driveway toward the road. What had caught his attention?
    Larry came charging out of the barn to take up position next to the older dog. Both stood stock still, except for the slow wag of their tails.
    They seemed curious, but not worried. Setting the bowl aside again, she walked outside onto the steps. The low rumble of a powerful engine approached, and she waited to see who was paying her a visit.
    Seconds later, a muscle car eased down the laststretch of the driveway. The driver was wisely taking it slowly. If she had a car like that, she would have parked it up on the road rather than risk its paint job and undercarriage on a stretch of gravel that had more ruts than flat spots.
    It wasn’t a friend of Chase’s; if one of his few friends drove something that hot, he would have mentioned it. The car was all about power and speed. She thought about the pickup she and Chase shared—banged-up, rusty in spots, and all too practical—and sighed with envy.
    The car nosed off to the side of the driveway and stopped by the barn. The glare of the sun off the windshield made it impossible to make out the driver, but when the door opened, her heart stuttered. Jarvis Donahue was back.
    It had been almost a week since he’d walked out the door and, she’d thought, out of her life. But there he was, petting Dozer and taking the time to throw a stick for Larry before heading for her.
    Lord, the way that man moved, he was all grace and lean strength. His jeans were obviously old favorites, worn at the knee and frayed at the hem. His dark blue sports shirt was unbuttoned over a white T-shirt that