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picture conveyed. “We might even have weddings there.” She was trying to cram as much happiness and positive energy into her life as possible, and what could be happier than a wedding?
    She hadn’t planned to buy anything for the gazebo today. But when she’d finished ordering what she needed and found Brady busy at the contractors’ counter, she’d gravitated to the garden center, where her imagination got the best of her.
    “Does your brain crank out ideas even when you’re sleeping?” Brady asked, sounding amazed and amused at the same time.
    “As a matter of fact, it does.” She laughed and tossed the magazines into the cart. “I wake up in the middle of the night and have to jot them down before I forget them.”
    They started down the aisle as Brady shook his head once. “Sounds like it makes for terrible sleeping.”
    “I’m not a very restful sleeper anyway.”
    At least not since her life had been turned upside down and inside out more than a year ago. That memory dampened her enthusiasm, so she headed for the outdoor part of the garden center, hoping that immersing herself in colorful, fragrant flowers would lift her mood again.
    As they moved up and down the aisles, she selected several flats of impatiens in a variety of bright colors, a couple of gorgeous hanging baskets filled with purple petunias and a rose trellis for the bush she’d noticed at the back of the mill.
    “You know, if you’re going to put that gazebo in the creek bend, you might want to make a stone path to it from the drive, for when the ground is wet.” Brady pointed out shelves filled with different-colored stepping-stones.
    Another unexpected expense, the type she suspected Brady wouldn’t think twice about, but a good idea nonetheless. “So, what do you think, the gray or the red?”
    Brady ran his fingers over the surface of the rock slabs in question, and an unexpected warmth flowed along Audrey’s arms at the thought of those long fingers doing the same thing to her skin.
    Maybe she had stayed in the sun too long that morning and baked her brain. She felt like she was experiencing Brady overload. She’d caught herself snatching glimpses of him ever since they’d arrived at the store, glimpses she didn’t dare in the car because he would have noticed. But each time she looked at him, the more attractive he became. The archetypal sexy carpenter. She wondered if he looked as good as she imagined in nothing but a pair of jeans and a tool belt.
    What was wrong with her? Hadn’t Darren’s desertion taught her anything?
    But Brady wasn’t Darren.
    Still, she couldn’t risk getting too involved, not when it could put everything she had and was trying to build at risk.
    “The gray.”
    “Huh?” Audrey zipped back from Fantasy World and stared at Brady, wondering what he was talking about.
    “The stepping-stones.” He pointed. When she didn’t react, he pecked against the stone with his fingertip. “Hello?”
    “Oh, yeah. I think you’re right. They’ll go better with the surroundings. That’s way down the list of priorities though.”
    “Where were you a moment ago?”
    “Sorry, brief side trip to la-la land.” Trying to dispel the jittery feeling threatening to overtake her, she took a few steps away from Brady and grabbed two pairs of gardening gloves hanging from a shelf. “You finished with your business?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well, hello there,” a silver-haired lady said as she guided her cart up next to theirs.
    “Hi, Miss Brenda,” Brady said as he gave the woman a quick hug. “How are you?”
    “If I was any better, I don’t know how I’d be able to stand it,” she said with a big smile. She looked at Audrey. “Are you a friend of Brady’s?”
    “This is Audrey York,” Brady said. “Dad and I are doing some work for her. Audrey, this is Brenda Phillips. She was my sixth-grade teacher.”
    “Oh, you must be the little gal who bought the old mill,” Brenda said. “I’ve got to tell