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hopeful look in her eyes. I felt bad ignoring her - she had been my constant companion since I’d gotten her - but she needed to learn that sometimes I had other things to do.
    I walked around the large yard, Greta trotting along next to me, trying to decide where I wanted to plant the various flowers. I had bought a mixture of annuals and perennials and wanted to spread them around the yard in a somewhat organized fashion.
    Next, I placed the pots in the places where I wanted to plant them. Standing on the back porch, I looked at the effect. After making a few adjustments, I felt ready to begin.
    So far, Greta hadn’t bothered any of the plants, but then I hadn’t started digging yet. Sure enough, as I dug a fresh hole in the rich soil, Greta poked her nose in and began sniffing furiously. I pushed her away and set the first flower in the hole, then filled the hole with dirt and patted it in place.
    As I moved to the next plant, Greta continued to investigate the first one.
    “Greta, come!” I commanded, but she ignored me, not at all trained yet.
    I kept an eye on her as I planted a few more flowers. Though interested in the plants, she hadn’t  tried to dig any up yet. Unexpectedly, her attention zeroed in on the gate that led to the front yard, and then she began barking.
    The blood drained from my face and my eyes were riveted to the gate. It was too high for me to see who was there and I expected Trevor to come barging through in seconds. But when I heard a female voice, relief cascaded over me.
    “Yoo hoo. Is anyone home?” the voice called.
    I had been kneeling and pushed myself to a standing position. I walked toward the gate, wondering who it was. It didn’t sound like Mary’s voice. Undoing the gate latch, I pulled the door open and saw a woman holding a plate of cookies. She appeared to be in her late forties. Her hair was brown and cut in a short style. Friendliness was clear on her face.
    “Hello,” I said.
    “You must be Kate.”
    “Yes, I am,” I said, alarmed that this stranger knew who I was and where I lived.
    “I’m Trish. I live next door.” She pointed off to the right where a house stood about a hundred yards away.
    “Oh,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you. Would you like to sit down?”
    “Sure.” She held the plate of cookies out to me. “These are for you. I hope you like chocolate chip.”
    I took the plate. “Thank you. They’re my favorite.”
    “Wonderful.”
    I led her to the back porch. Greta had stopped barking but was trying to catalog the woman’s scent. I shoved Greta away and invited Trish to sit with me on the steps of the back porch. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any chairs back here yet.”
    “That’s all right,” she said, sitting on the step near me.
    Still concerned that she’d known my name I asked, “How did you know my name is Kate?”
    She laughed and it was the kind of laugh that made you want to laugh along. “Mary told me all about you. I think she’s developed a soft spot for you. You probably remind her of her granddaughters. They live back East and she doesn’t get to see them very often.”
    Her explanation made me feel much better, although I hoped Mary wasn’t telling all of her friends about me. Suddenly I was very glad I’d told her my name was Kate.
    “She’s been very kind to me,” I said.
    “Where did you move from?”
    This was not a question I had planned for. In fact, I hadn’t even thought of the story I would tell if someone were to ask how I became widowed. “Las Vegas,” I blurted out, not knowing where that came from. It made sense though. My license plates said Nevada, I didn’t want to tell anyone I had moved from Reno, and Vegas was large enough that no one there would be expected to know me.
    “So you’re used to the heat then.”
    “Yes,” I lied. In fact, I’d never lived anyplace where it got as hot as it did in Vegas.
    “Our summers won’t seem so bad then.”
    “How hot does it get here in the