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unload. Why don’t you open up?” He turned back to Kendra. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
    She shook her head. He opened his door, and once he was out, he slammed it harder than he needed to.
    When he opened the trunk, Kendra insisted on taking a shopping bag filled with miscellaneous kitchen items she’d collected from the condo. She had left more than half for him, although both of them knew he would probably be eating all his meals out.
    “Do you know what they call this architectural style?” she asked as they moved slowly toward the cabin.
    “Lean-to?”
    “It’s a dogtrot cabin. The early settlers were restricted by the length of the available logs and the weight they could lift. So they built small homes, and when it came time to add on, they just built another house across from the first and connected them with a roof and flooring. A dog could trot right between the houses, and that’s where the dogs stayed on a hot day or at night. The design acts sort of like a tunnel and sucks in any cool breezes. A lot of houses started this way, then they were covered with siding, and the middle porch became a room or a hallway. There are more of them around than you’d guess.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    His lack of enthusiasm didn’t stop her. “Your interest is noted. At least part of the house was built before your grandmother’s time, and the front porch was added later. I don’t know when.”
    “Would you find it so intriguing if this were your family home? Instead of the brownstone in Manhattan? Or the estate in Saratoga Springs?”
    “I’d find it more intriguing. I like the history here.”
    “To each his own.”
    Again she ignored him. “When you look at all the mini-mansions going up in the D.C. suburbs, it’s hard to imagine anyone raising a family in a house as small as this one, isn’t it?”
    “I imagine some people just added on.”
    “I’d like to do that here, but I don’t want to destroy the integrity of the design.”
    “Anyone else would raze this place.”
    “That was my first thought. Don’t forget, I wanted to build a new house on the site.”
    And he hadn’t wanted to. From the day three years ago when he had discovered he’d been left this land and cabin as an inheritance, Isaac had not wanted anything to do with it. Still, he was a practical man, and he had seen the investment potential at a time when the stock market was tanking. So he held on, knowing that by the time he retired, the property would be worth a great deal. He’d only grudgingly agreed to the minor renovations because a structure might make selling the property that much easier when the time came.
    “Now I wish I’d gone along with you,” he said. “I’d feel better knowing you were living in a modern house.”
    “Don’t worry. Once I found out there were logs under the siding, I never would have taken it down.”
    They reached the steps up to the narrow porch that ran along the front of both structures and the bisecting dogtrot. He held out a hand. “Watch your step. Why hasn’t your carpenter built a railing?”
    “He moved to Tennessee two weeks ago to live closer to his children.” Kendra took Isaac’s hand. Hers felt as light as air, and her skin was the color of eggshells. She was putting a good face on things, but she looked drained.
    “You mean you don’t have anybody to finish putting this place in order?”
    “I’ll find somebody now that I’m out here. I have resources.”
    He tried and couldn’t imagine Kendra living in this place alone. “The railing’s just for starters. The ground needs to be graded or one day you’re going to take a spill. The boards on the porch look like they need to be replaced. The—”
    “Have you noticed the view?”
    He heard what she hadn’t said. Stop complaining and try to see what I do. I want you to understand why I’m here .
    “There’s nothing wrong with the view. Move it closer to D.C. and we’d be millionaires.” Of course, his