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Rabbit wouldn’t be up there. She hadn’t been for three days.
    He knew because he came to check every night. He’d even walked over a few days on his lunch break, hoping she might have dropped by. No sign of her or of his coat.
    He was beginning to believe she was only a figment of his imagination. Maybe wishing for someone his age to talk to had conjured her up. A man gets used to the loneliness after a while, but that doesn’t mean hope vanishes.
    What were the chances that a woman he’d never seen around town was hanging out in his workshop? She’d been pretty, real pretty, and he would have noticed a girl with beautiful blue eyes and dark, waist-length hair. He volunteered at half the things in town. He went to all the town-hall meetings and was always running to the grocery or the hardware store. He would have seen her somewhere.
    Smiling, he remembered how her thick midnight braid had brushed her hips when she’d climbed down the ladder. If he was just making her up, at least he’d done a good job. Even her smile made him grin now, three days later.
    â€œYou up there, Rabbit?” he muttered to the silent barn.
    A board above him creaked, making him jump.
    â€œI’ve been waiting,” she answered with a laugh. “I had to make sure you were alone.”
    Startled, he looked up and saw her lean over the edge of the loft. She was dressed, as before, in jeans and a flannel shirt, with his coat folded over her arm. Little Rabbit was so petite folks might mistake her for a teenage boy if they didn’t see her long hair braided down her back and the gentle rounding of her chest that showed even in the baggy shirt.
    Yancy tried to clear his thoughts. She was back.
    â€œWell, come on down, Rabbit. We’ve got work to do.” The rule came back to him. No questions. “I thought I might have dreamed you up, but dreams don’t usually steal coats.”
    She swung a leg onto the ladder. “I’m sorry about that. I brought it back. But I’ll have to borrow it again to wear home.”
    He watched her as her left foot hit the rung of the ladder and slipped.
    An instant later she was flying down toward him, tumbling out of control like a bird with a broken wing.
    Taking one step, he caught her in midflight. This dream he’d been thinking about felt very solid in his arms.
    Without holding her too tight, he lowered her feet to the ground. She was real. Her heart pounded against his chest for a moment before he let her go.
    â€œThanks,” she managed as she backed away. “I’ve always been clumsy.”
    â€œYou didn’t look clumsy,” he managed to say as he fought the urge to reach for her. “You looked like you were flying.”
    She shoved a hand in the pocket of his coat and pulled out a bag. “I brought you cookies, but it appears they’re only crumbs now.”
    He accepted her gift. “I love cookie crumbs. I’ll share them when we take our coffee break, if you can stay awhile?”
    â€œI can stay. The other night, when I worked here, I walked home and slept like a baby. So, what have we got to do tonight? I feel like a cobbler’s elf.”
    â€œI’m putting together the hearth for the fireplace. I could really use your help.” He pulled a tarp away from a long piece of wood he’d carved months ago. “It’s a two-man job.”
    Her face lit up when she grinned. “One man, one rabbit, you mean.”
    â€œThat’ll have to do.” It crossed his mind that the lady might be a little nuts to show up at night in a stranger’s barn, but right about now in his life, a bubble off normal didn’t sound like too bad a place to be. He liked watching her work. She had skills he’d probably never develop. Plain, old, ordinary wood became art in her hands.
    As the night aged, he began to feel like he was half-drunk. She’d come back. The work seemed to go more than