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surprise. I can’t wait.” Grabbing her purse and a light jacket, Zula followed Connor onto the porch and checked the door handle to make sure it locked.
                  Connor opened the door of his Ford truck for her and helped her climb in. Once he was behind the wheel, he started engine and pulled away from the curb. “I hope you like meatloaf,” he said.
                  “Meatloaf? I haven’t had meatloaf since my mother was alive and I loved hers.”
                  “Great, because it’s what I made for us.”
                  “You cooked?”
                  Connor shrugged and made a left turn. “I’ve lived alone a long time so learning to cook was self-defense. I got really tired of fast food and pizza.”
                  “I’m impressed,” Zula said as Connor wheeled the pick-up into his driveway.
                  “Here we are,” he announced as he slid out of the cab and hurried to open Zula’s door for her.
                  “I didn’t realize we lived so close to one another.”
                  “Everyone in Greenfield lives close to one another.” Connor chuckled, and walked Zula up the porch steps and opened the door of his house.
                  Zula laughed. “I guess we do.”
                  Connor ushered her inside and shut the door behind them. “Home sweet home. Can I get you a glass of wine?”
                  “Yes, that would be nice.”
                  “Just have a seat anywhere and I’ll be right back.”
                  Zula watched him disappear into another room and looked around. The room was comfortable, a little messy with magazines and newspapers covering the coffee table, but, she decided, it all felt very male. Trophies from what she guessed were his high school or college days playing ball sat on the mantel above the fireplace. Various video games and controller units lay about, and a bag of golf clubs stood in one corner. She made herself comfortable on the couch, just as Connor returned with two glasses in one hand and bottle of wine in the other.
                  “Here we go.” He set the glasses on the coffee table, opened the bottle and poured the wine.
                  “Thank you.” Zula accepted the glass, sipped the wine and nodded. “That’s really good.”
                  “Thank you. I make it myself.”
                  “Really? I didn’t know you had so many talents.”
                  Connor laughed. “I don’t know that it’s a talent, but my dad taught me and his dad taught him. It’s a family tradition I guess you could say. I make about twenty bottles a year just for myself, or as gifts for friends.”
    “I’m impressed. ” She held up her glass and Connor touched his to it. “Cheers,” they said together.
                  “Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. I made a salad and some potatoes and peas. Please don’t feel as if you have to eat everything or that you’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t like something. I can take it.” Connor laughed and sipped his wine. “How about some music? What do you like?”
                  “Anything but heavy metal,” Zula replied. “I like music a little softer.”
                  “Blues?”
                  “Terrific.”
                  Connor put on a Stevie Ray Vaughn CD and then came to sit close to
    Zula. “I wanted to tell you I think you’re beautiful. The first time I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
                  Zula felt her cheeks heat at the compliment and took a drink of wine. “Thank you. You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself.”
                  “Thank you.” Connor chuckled. “You know I’ve