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London Sole ballet flats and skipped downstairs to make some coffee.
    Coffee would have been a challenge, but Lauren was prepared. She had packed a French press and some gourmet ground coffee from Dean & DeLuca. She boiled water in an old pot and poured it into the press, then, coffee mug in hand, she wandered out into the back yard.
    It really was beautiful and soothing. The morning mists were evaporating, and the sun was shining through the maple trees, illuminating the old garden and the white picket fence. Lauren wandered through the plants, forgetting herself. Her grandmother had taught her the names of all the plants when she’d been a child, and she’d been surprised at how easily they came back to her now after all these years. There were blooming daylilies, and iris that had gone by. There were white Shastas and bright fuchsia phlox. Yellow coreopsis and black-eyed Susans, Queen Anne’s Lace, and foxglove. Then there were the herbs. Mint and oregano, wild onion, and thyme. Lauren plucked a mint leaf with her thumb and forefinger, squeezed it, and held it to her nose. The fragrance was heavenly. Aromatherapy wherever you looked.
    “You Miss Smith?” a voice called to her.
    Lauren turned around. A tall, thin older man with equally thinning hair was leaning over the gate.
    “I’m Lauren Smith,” she said, both hands around her coffee mug. “Can I help you?” People just seemed to pop out of nowhere around here!
    “I’m Bob Cochran, Caleb’s dad. I help him out with the little jobs from time to time.” The man chuckled. “I’m supposed to be retired, but he asked me to install a valve here in the furnace line. No rest for the wicked, as they say.” He chuckled again at his own joke.
    The disappointment hit her like a heavyweight champ’s right hook. “Oh. Oh-ah — ” Lauren stammered. “Um, come on in. I’ll show you the way.”
    “I’ll get my tools.” Bob went to the white van that was parked in the driveway, opened the big back doors, and stepped inside. Lauren heard him rummaging around, then he came through the gate, carrying a work tote. She couldn’t stand it any longer.
    “I — I thought Caleb was coming,” she said, trying hard to keep her voice light.
    The old man didn’t look up, but continued in the direction of the front door. “Nah. It’s his day at the firehouse, and the other guys are busy on the big jobs. He doesn’t usually do the small jobs, anyway. He came out here yesterday ’cause he was in the area. I get these jobs.” There was that chuckle again. “Can I go in?”
    “Oh, oh, I’m sorry. Just go in and through the kitchen to the left. Do you need help?”
    Bob Cochran looked at her quizzically. “No, I don’t need help. I know the house well. Thanks anyway.” He smiled politely and disappeared into the house.
    Lauren stood, stunned, in the garden. Slowly, she lifted her coffee mug to her lips and took a sip of the hot liquid, but she didn’t taste it. Had she been a fool to think he might be back? To see her? The engagement ring Charles had given her suddenly flashed in the morning light. She looked at it blankly. What’s the matter with me? she thought, suddenly annoyed. And did everyone in town know the inside of her house?
    Still, she was feeling frantic. She had to find out more about this man who had elicited such a reaction from her. Just to put her mind at ease. She had given up trying to deny to herself that she was attracted to Caleb Cochran; as was her personality, she just wanted to face it and put the feeling to rest. Once and for all. His father would be just the man to ask.
    Lauren hurried into the house and went down into the cellar. Bob was kneeling down on the damp, dirt floor, searching through his tool box for some elusive tool.
    “Will this take long?” she asked nonchalantly.
    “Oh, no,” Bob said, not looking up. “This is a simple job. I’ll be out of here in half an hour.”
    “Good,” replied Lauren, with affected