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I’ll put little Eddie on the den sofa."
    Ellen ticked off the rooms on her fingers as Aunt Lollie talked. If she was remembering correctly, every available sleeping space had been accounted for.
    "Do you still have Carol's sleeping bag? Dirk can use that."
    Aunt Lollie tiptoed to the bedroom door and peered down the hall. Then, giving Ellen a conspiratorial smile, she shut the door and tiptoed back across the room.
    "I wanted to surprise you," she whispered. "Vester and I still remember what it was like to be young and in love. You might say that we're modern in matters like these."
    Ellen's heart sank right down to her toes as she realized what Aunt Lollie was saying. "I'm sure Dirk won't mind a sleeping bag for this short stay," she said, almost desperately.
    Aunt Lollie dismissed that foolish notion with a wave of her hands. "Nonsense, Ellen. What would dear departed Evelyn say if she knew I'd made her daughter's fiance sleep on the floor? Besides that, you're not all that young anymore. It would please me and Vester no end to know that your first child had been conceived right here in Lawrence County. Right here on this featherbed."
    She patted the bed for emphasis. A soft feather worked loose from the old mattress and floated to the floor.
    Ellen looked down at the feather and back at Aunt Lollie. What could she say? she wondered. That Dirk was not her fiance and that she didn't even plan to sleep with him, let alone conceive anything with him?
    Of course not
. She had made her bed, as the old saying went, and now she was going to have to lie in it. She gave Aunt Lollie a brave smile.
Lie
was certainly an appropriate word for what she was about to do.
    "I knew I could count on you to think of every thing. Aunt Lollie. I just can't tell you what this means to me!"
    She certainly couldn't, she said to herself. It meant sleepless nights and a foolish, runaway heart. It meant pretending to appear nonchalant and trying not to look when he pulled off his shirt. It meant sorely regretting this charade and wishing that she had never heard of Dirk. It meant hoping she would not invite him onto that featherbed to embark upon an affair that she knew would be more than casual, an affair that would threaten her carefully planned future and jeopardize her heart.
    Aunt Lollie clapped her hands in delight. "We both just knew you'd be tickled pink. Now, you two freshen up"—she paused to wink broadly—"and I’ll go downstairs to see about supper."
    A loud clatter outside the door announced the arrival of the men with the bags. The two old conspirators wasted no time in leaving Ellen and Dirk to themselves. Winking at each other and exchanging significant grins, they made their departure.
    Ellen waited until she could no longer hear their footsteps in the hallway.
    "They're about as subtle as a freight train," she said.
    Her damp dress clung to her legs as she paced the room. She waved her arms around for emphasis as she talked, and she was altogether a different woman from the ever- cool, always-in-charge Dr. Ellen Stanford, who did primate language research on Beech Mountain.
    "What in the world are we going to do about this mess?" she added.
    Dirk began to unbutton his shirt. "I don't know what you're going to do, but I'm going to take a bath. It's hotter than the Equator around here."
    "Take a bath!"
    "That's right, my darling." He removed his damp shirt and hung it over the back of a chair. "Care to join me?"
    She wanted to tear his outrageous grin from his face. If the sight of that magnificent chest hadn't stopped her, she probably would have.
    "Stop calling me that, and don't you dare pull off your pants! You've got to help me think of a way out of this mess."
    As he strolled across the room Ellen spotted a jagged scar on his back. It started high on his shoulder and angled downward. She sucked in a sharp breath, and for an instant she forgot the matter at hand.
    Dirk chose that moment to turn around. He saw the look on her