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Pardon? or Huh? when they didn’t understand the first time. He squeezed his grandmother’s shoulder before slipping past her to continue on up to the guest room he was occupying until he found a place of his own.
    Mounting the stairs, he whistled an old Johnny Cash tune. Though he hadn’t been too keen on the idea of staying with his grandparents for weeks, perhaps months, while he searched for a place, closed, and moved, tonight’s talk with Mamm made him almost glad Mom and Dad had sold the house he grew up in and bought a luxury condo in one of the new mid-rise buildings in midtown Nashville—a luxury condo with more than three thousand square feet and two guest bedrooms that were far too small for him to consider staying in. At Mamm and Greedad’s house, he had the whole second floor to himself, almost.
    He stepped into the back bedroom and turned on the light. Maximus, the Great Dane, thumped his tail against the denim patchwork quilt covering the queen-size bed. Yes, he had the second floor almost to himself.
    “Dude—off the bed.” He snapped his fingers. After a few more thumps of the tail, Maximus complied, though slowly. And once down, the massive dog took time to stretch and yawn, sniffed Bobby thoroughly to see if he’d been anywhere interesting, and then ambled out of the bedroom, nails clicking on the hardwood floors. “Go see Greedad.”
    Maximus cast him a glare over his shoulder before continuing down the hall to the front staircase.
    Bobby shook his head. Dogs. While having one around the house provided more safety against break-ins, he wasn’t sure he could live with one. Especially not one the size of Maximus—who answered to nothing but his full name.
    He pulled the denim quilt off the bed to reveal a nice, colorful one with an actual pattern to it underneath. Mamm had explained when Bobby chose this bedroom that Maximus liked to take naps inhere occasionally. But as the room at the back corner of the house, it was farthest away from Mamm and Greedad’s room on the opposite corner in the front of the house downstairs. Though Mamm always stayed up late, Greedad was a firm believer in early to bed, early to rise. Bobby usually was, too, but just in case he decided to stay out late sometimes, he didn’t want to disturb his grandparents’ sleep and make them regret their decision to ask him to stay with them.
    Perched on the side of the high, antique four-poster bed, Bobby pulled his shoes off, then carried them to the closet.
    In short order, he completed his nightly rituals and soon climbed into the bed. As soon as he turned out the lights, Zarah Mitchell’s face formed in his mind’s eye. Still beautiful after all these years. Still stubborn and unwilling to accept help from anyone. Still disdainful of him—well, she hadn’t been feeling her best tonight, so her real emotions toward him had yet to be discovered.
    Now he understood why God had so adamantly pushed him into returning home to Nashville. He had to show Zarah Mitchell not only that he’d moved on with his life, but that he was also ready, willing, and able to meet someone new, fall in love, and get married. He might even be magnanimous and invite her to the wedding.

Chapter 4

    Z arah checked her reflection one last time. The extra makeup added the right amount of color to hide her sickly pallor. Even though she felt much better this morning, after taking it easy and limiting herself to only working six hours yesterday, she still looked sick—and Patrick would be true to his word and cause a scene if he didn’t believe she was completely well.
    She glanced down at the prescription bottles lining the countertop beside the sink. Stuff to take at night. Stuff to take during the day. Decongestants. Expectorants. Antibiotics. Ibuprofen drug for the lingering headache and other sundry pains. Ever since the upper respiratory infection she’d developed after the seemingly unceasing rain in April and May, she couldn’t remember