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before they had left to spread the ashes, did they start to speak.
    At first the conversation was slow and uncertain and was mostly of a “getting-to-know” type. Shelly knew of Mike Sawyer, had talked to him quite a bit recently but had never met him. Beyond the most basic facts and a few blurry memories, Nick and Raquel were almost strangers to her. And it had been seventeen years since she had last seen Maria. With Josh's death lurking just over their shoulders, it wasn't what one could call a comfortable time, but as the conversation ebbed and flowed around her, Shelly began to relax.
    Meeting Mike's eye, she said, “I really appreciate you taking the time to drive up here.” Smiling faintly she added, “I doubt that delivering ashes to the bereaved family is why you became a lawyer.”
    Mike appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties, and leaning back in the kitchen chair, his coat discarded and his tie half-undone, he appeared even less the proper family lawyer and far more attractive than Shelly had first thought. Standing about six feet tall, with a slender build and light brown hair and blue eyes, she found herself warming to him, liking the intelligence in his gaze and the sensitive curve of his mouth.
    Mike waved a dismissing hand. “I wanted to do it. Your brother was more than a client—he was a friend as well. I hope that you will consider me in the same light.”
    Shelly nodded and, looking warmly around the table at the others, lifted her mug, and said, “Here's to friendship.”
    Maria beamed at her, Raquel nodded, and Mike grinned. Sprawled across from her, his long legs stretched in front of him, Nick regarded her for a moment, then shrugged and raised his mug. “Why not.”
    It was a less-than-enthusiastic response, but Shelly was willing to take it. The toast was drunk and the conversation ambled on a few more minutes before Raquel asked abruptly, “How long do you intend to stay?”
    Shelly's gaze dropped to her brown ironstone mug. “I, um, don't have any set date.” She swallowed, saying in a firmer voice, “Actually, I may not be returning.” She looked up. “I'm thinking of staying…permanently.”
    “Oh,
chica
! I am so happy to hear you say that,” Maria exclaimed. “I know it is what Josh hoped would happen one day.” A cloud crossed her face. “It's not for me to criticize, and I do not mean it to sound as if I am, but how sad that you make this decision now—and not when Josh was alive. He spoke so often of how much he wanted you to come back to Oak Valley. He longed for you to return and was always saying how much he missed you. He was very lonely for your company.”
    Shelly frowned. That wasn't how she remembered it. The few times she brought up the subject of returning, Josh had brushed it aside, rushing on to talk about other things. In fact, if she'd had to hazard a guess, she would have said that Josh had
not
wanted her to come back. He had seemed content and more than willing for her to remain in New Orleans, yet Maria was telling her the exact opposite. If he'd wanted her to come home, why hadn't he said something?
    Confused, she shrugged, and muttered, “Well, I'm here now, even if a bit late.”
    Breaking into the uncomfortable mood that seemed ready to settle over them, Mike said briskly, “Speaking of the time, I had better think of leaving. I've an hour and half drive in front of me. But before I leave, I thought perhaps we could get the reading of Josh's will out of the way. I brought it with me just on the off chance the opportunity presented itself—I didn't see the need for all of you to drive to my office for that particular formality. If you'll excuse me long enough to get it out of my briefcase in the car?”
    “Of course,” Shelly replied, her initial favorable impression of the lawyer increasing.
    An awkward silence fell with the departure of Sawyer, Shelly once again realizing that she was in the midst of strangers, and she wished that Roman and