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authority. “I need to go into town and find a Realtor.” She paused for a moment. “What did you mean, ‘Caleb’s day at the firehouse’?”
    “He’s a volunteer there one day and two nights a week. In this town, we’ve got only two full-time firemen, so us volunteers fill in.”
    “He’s a busy guy,” remarked Lauren.
    Bob set to work removing the old valve. As he did so, he said, “You’re listing this place? Gonna sell it?”
    “Yes,” Lauren answered somewhat belligerently. “I live in New York City. Why would I want this place?”
    “It’s a nice place, that’s all. You don’t find nice houses with this much good land so easily anymore. Especially here in Vermont.”
    Lauren hardly heard him. She walked in a small circle behind him, trying to figure out how to phrase her next question correctly. Finally, she said, “Um, about Caleb. Yesterday he burned his arm here. How is it?”
    “Okay, I guess,” replied Bob, struggling with a wrench on the pipe.
    “Is he wearing a bandage or anything?”
    “Oh, no. Nothing like that. He didn’t even mention it.”
    “Kind of a tough guy, huh?”
    “No, not particularly.” Then Bob turned around, eying her somewhat suspiciously. “What are you getting at?”
    “Nothing,” Lauren said, chagrined. “Just trying to make sure he’s okay.” She was glad the cellar light was dim and he couldn’t see her color rising. “I — I feel kind of responsible. It was because of me that — that he was hurt.”
    Lauren blinked as Bob Cochran looked at her, hard. Then he said, “Well, Caleb is fine. I know my son. He’s okay.”
    Lauren gave up. “Tell him I asked about him, please?”
    “I’ll do that,” said the man. Suddenly, he straightened up and faced her. He hesitated for a second before speaking. “Look, you seem awfully interested in Caleb’s aches and pains. I wasn’t born yesterday, and I’m his dad. Caleb is a good looking, really nice guy, probably this town’s most eligible bachelor, I guess you’d say, but I can see you’re married or engaged or something. There’s a diamond the size of Gibraltar on your finger, so let me tell you something. Don’t toy with him. He’s been through enough!”
    Lauren was silent for two seconds. Then she flared defensively, trying to cover her own embarrassment. “I don’t care what he’s been through! I was just concerned because he hurt himself here yesterday.” She paused and then added for extra emphasis, “I don’t want a lawsuit on my hands.”
    Caleb’s father turned back to his work. “Is that the kind of people you think we are? No need to be afraid of that, miss. We’re not interested in your money.” Then he chuckled and continued with the repair. Lauren wandered upstairs and back out into the garden.
    It wasn’t long before Bob appeared. “Okay,” he said. “The job’s done. You should have more hot water than you can use.”
    “Thanks,” said Lauren, subdued by the conversation in the cellar. “What do I owe you?”
    “I have no idea. I just turn in parts and labor costs, and you get the bill.”
    “Oh, well, do they have the address to send it to?”
    “Just call the office.” The older man turned to go. His voice was gentler as he added, “I’ll tell Caleb you asked about his burn. And, if you want a good Realtor, just go to Town and Country Realty. They’re right in town. Ask for Joan. You have a good day, now.”
    “Yes, you too,” said Lauren automatically. “Thanks again.”

    Lauren watched the van drive down the road. Suddenly, she felt she must get in touch with someone in the city. She had to ground herself somehow. She pulled her iPhone out and punched the number key to summon that paragon of practicality, Kelly.
    “Hey, how’s everything up in the wilderness?” said her jovial friend.
    Ah , thought Lauren, a sane voice . She could picture her friend, round of cheek and figure, curly black hair cascading down her back. Bright black eyes snapping