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saw?"
    "Gracious no," laughed Ruth. "If he even held one, it would shake his dentures right out of his mouth."
    "Who does all the cutting?"
    "Kelli mostly. Josh and some of the students help out on the weekends."
    "Well, since I’m here, for now, I guess I could help out."
    "That would be nice. Kelli works so hard around here." A mischievous sparkled gleamed in Ruth’s eyes. "Just last week I was telling her that we really could use a man around here. There’s nothing wrong with Henry, mind you, but a strong, younger man would put some kick into this place. I told her it was none of my business, but she really isn’t getting any younger, and she should give marriage some serious thought."
    Logan groaned. "Don’t even think of playing matchmaker. I told you years ago that I won’t put up with it. I’m a grown man who handles my life exactly as I please. So don’t go giving Kelli any ideas!"
    Ruth looked wounded. "I wasn’t thinking of you, Logan. I think Josh would make a perfect husband for Kelli." She lowered her head, to hide the gleam of triumph shining in her eyes. "You would never do."
    The next words were out of Logan’s mouth before he could stop them. "Why not?"
    "Because she would need someone who was here, not digging up bones in Afghanistan."
    Frustrated, he jerked open the door and breathed in the cold air. "I’m a geologist. I don’t dig up bones and I have never been to Afghanistan, but you are right. I’m never around when anyone needs me."
    From the window above the sink Ruth frowned as she watched Logan’s shoulders slump as he headed into the woods.
     
    #
     
    A string of explicit curses tinted the cold air bluer as Logan headed toward the pond. Whatever had possessed him to open his big mouth? What did he care if Aunt Ruth was trying to throw Kelli and Josh together? With a savage kick he sent a rock flying into the creek. It wasn’t any of his business.
    Logan came to the fork in the path and headed right. If and when he decided to get married, he would make the perfect husband. He might be a little pigheaded at times, but his wife would understand and love him for it. He smiled, self-assured. He was headed toward one woman who would never know how perfect he could be. He would rather be seventy years old and digging up bones in Afghanistan than tied to a woman who still believed in the tooth fairy.
    The sight of crystal-blue water sparkling in the bright morning sun caused Logan to pause. The pond was larger than he had first imagined. A half-dozen Canadian geese floated lazily by a weathered lopsided dock on the far side of the pond. A brilliant flash of red caught his attention. Fifty yards in front of him sat Kelli. She was dressed in her old boots, bomber jacket, and a pair of worn jeans. A thick red knitted band held back her flying blond hair and kept her ears warm. A tender smile curved his mouth as the soft melody of a lullaby reached his ears. Kelli was singing to the large white swan who was lying with its head resting in her lap. Kelli gently smiled at Caer as she tenderly stroked the great bird’s feathers and sang. Angus was proudly standing guard in the rough lean-to Kelli had constructed for them. Safely behind him was the bird’s pride and joy. Five whitish eggs lay nestled in the large nest at the back of their home.
    It had taken Kelli ten minutes of singing softly before she could coax Caer off her nest. Now the bird snuggled closer to her and basked in her accomplishment—motherhood. Kelli was just about to segue into her rendition of "Silence Is Golden" when a twig snapped behind her. A flurry of activity erupted. Caer practically flew back to the nest while Angus dove for the kill.
    Kelli scrambled to her feet and spotted Logan. The two furious swans were angrily hissing. "Logan, get back," she yelled above the noise of the birds. She saw him hesitate. "Please, Logan. I’ll meet you at the fork in the path in five minutes."
    Logan stared at the angry male swan and