Sam scooped out a large spoonful of cereal. Milk dripped on the countertop. “I don’t know.”

Colton shifted his attention to Libby. “Be right back.”

“Take your time.”

Colton vanished around the corner, and she could hear the low rumble of his voice mingling with the crunch of Sam’s cereal.

“Did you have a sleepover?” Sam asked.

Libby looked at the child, realizing quickly the meaning of his words. “I didn’t sleep here last night. I slept at my house.”

Sam sniffed and rubbed his nose. “Are you Dad’s girlfriend?”

She sipped her coffee, feeling her cheeks flush a little. “We just met.”

“Oh.” He took a second bite and regarded her closely. “Do you know Elaine well?”

“I just met her too,” she said. “But I like her.”

“Oh.”

“I like you, Sam.”

“But we just met last night,” he said with a puzzled expression.

“Sometimes it works that way.”

The toilet flushed, and seconds later Colton appeared with a fully dressed Jeff. His hair had been dampened and combed, but a thick black cowlick stuck up in the back.

“She’s in your chair, Jeff,” Sam announced.

“It’s okay,” Colton said.

Jeff looked up at his dad, as if the boy would argue. And then, catching a slight look of warning, he said, “It’s okay.”

Libby rose up out of the seat, sensing that she was intruding on their morning routine. “That’s very nice of you, Jeff, but I’m tired of sitting. Take your seat.” And then to Colton, she said, “I didn’t mean to intrude on your breakfast.”

“You’re not. Nothing exciting happening here this time of day.” Colton inspected Sam’s empty bowl. “Wrap it up, pal. And then put on the clothes I laid out on your bed.”

Sam took another bite, chewing slowly as he regarded Libby. “Dad, is she your girlfriend?”

“No, pal.”

“Sam and I just had this discussion,” Libby said. “He isn’t taking my word for it.”

“He doesn’t take anybody’s word for anything,” Colton said, amused. “I’m convinced he’s going to be a lawyer or a policeman when he grows up.”

Sam grinned at Libby. “I could carry a badge.”

“Yes, you could,” Colton said.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Sam asked.

“Sam,” Colton warned. “Enough with the third degree.”

Jeff scooted into his chair. His body relaxed a fraction as Colton set a cereal bowl in front of him and then pulled two brown-bag lunches out of the refrigerator. Each boy’s name was written in neat block letters.

When Libby was a kid, her mother had often overslept, and her father had always been working. Being the best pediatrician in the area had left little time for his own family. Breakfast had generally been a banana or a piece of fruit as they had hustled out the door. Lunch had been from whatever money her mother could scrounge from her wallet or sometimes the bottom of her purse. She had never gone without, but there had been no routine.

“You’re very organized,” Libby said.

“Blame it on the navy.”

“It’s good,” she said. “Chaos can be draining when you’re a kid.”

“Sounds like experience talking.”

“Most of my life has been a little unorganized. Hoping small-town living will tamp it down a notch or two. Once I get past the next two weddings, the plan is to set up my old photography equipment stored in Dad’s shed.” How many months had she been making that promise to herself?

Outside, the dogs barked. The sounds grew louder and louder until she heard the thud of footsteps on the porch and then a knock on the door.

“I thought Kelce and Sarge were your dogs.”

“They are. But when Elaine’s at the big house alone, she likes to have them sleep in her room.”

The barking grew louder.

“The day has arrived,” Colton said. He crossed the small living room and opened the door to Elaine.

She wore jeans, a dark-blue sleeveless shirt, and work boots. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and a splash of rouge added much-needed color.

“Good morning,” Colton said. “Looks like everyone is ready to get to work on the greenhouse.”

Libby stood. “Morning.”

“Libby?” Elaine asked, clearly puzzled.

“I decided to come early this morning,” she added a little too quickly as she set her coffee cup down. “I thought the light might be better at dawn.”

“You should have called me. I would have gone with you,” Elaine said.

“It was so early.”

“I’m a terrible sleeper,” Elaine said. “Knock on the front door anytime, and there’s a ninety-nine percent chance that I’m awake.”

“Sure. Okay.”

“Ladies,” Colton said. “I’ve got to get the boys ready for school.”

“Which means we need to get out of his hair,” Elaine said, smiling. “Libby, come up to the main house, and I’ll give you a tour while Colton wrangles the boys.”

“Sounds great.”

“See you soon,” Colton said.

A few feet separated them, and again a strong sexual urge rumbled through her body. Sam leaned over and said something to Jeff, and the two giggled.

“I’ll leave you to the boys,” Libby said.

“Right.”

The morning sun had risen well above the horizon, burning off the morning mist. The day stretched out before her.

Kelce and Sarge ran up to Libby, their tails wagging. Kelce dropped a stick at her feet. Libby tossed it, this time putting some heft into the toss. The dog took off running as she leaned down to scratch Sarge, who was now eager for attention, between the ears.

They climbed the back steps and moved into the kitchen, already filled with the aroma of cinnamon and apples. There was no sign of Margaret, but the oven had several items baking.

“Would you like to see some of the pictures I’ve taken?” Libby asked.

“I would.” Elaine reached for a pair of light-blue readers and slipped them on.

They sat at the table while Libby scrolled through the pictures. Several had caught the sun at a stunning angle that split the light into a rainbow of colors.

“These are magnificent,” Elaine said.

“Hard to go wrong with a subject matter like this.”

“You do any photography for art’s sake?”

“Not since high school. I fancied myself a wet plate photographer back in those days. Collected lots of old cameras. The plan was to start up again this summer, but it hasn’t happened just yet.”

“Why not?”

“Time, I guess. And dealing with Dad’s death, and the rest has taken longer than I thought.”

“Ah, the rest. It can fill up a great deal of time.”

She spoke as if she understood the term amounted to an emotional quagmire that sapped creativity and brainpower.

Libby paused at one shot of the fountain. A bright light swept across the stone, as if she had snapped something fluttering quickly by. She moved to the next image, but there was no light.