Seconds grew into minutes as the sun shyly nudged up over the sloping eastern horizon. The hints of light were brilliant.

She moved to the fountain and raised her camera to the dome. She clicked once or twice and glanced at the image. The right time was close. Water dripped, an animal scurried, and somewhere a glass pane rattled slightly in the breeze.

The air thickening, she sensed someone was standing behind her. She turned, expecting to see Colton or Elaine, ready with a babbling explanation about timing and light.

But no one was there. There was only the whisper of wind in the trees that stirred an odd sensation within her.

“Don’t be silly,” she whispered to herself.

And then, as if a curtain on a magnificent stage had opened, the sun tipped above the horizon and made its entrance. Orange and yellow light kissed the glass dome and expanded into a rainbow of colors. Her mind calmed as she raised her camera, knowing she would get the shot.

She rapidly snapped images, quickly checking the position in her viewfinder before shooting until the sun’s first light was spent. When she finally lowered the camera, she was slightly breathless with excitement. Satisfied that she had something special, she was glad she had pushed beyond the day’s rough start.

The sunlight illuminated the pane of glass etched with Sadie’s name. She crossed to it and ran her fingers over the rough edges.

“Sadie, are you the one haunting this place?” Of course, she did not expect an answer, but when a tree limb outside cracked and fell to the ground, she took that as a yes and hurried outside.

The morning sun made for an easy return journey up the hill toward her car. Ahead, light glowed from the last and largest of the cabins. She knew Colton and his sons lived on the property, and unless there was another family here, it had to be his house. Curious, she kept walking toward his cabin, uncaring that it might look off if Colton saw her.

As she approached his house, the front door opened, and Colton stepped out onto the porch. He scanned the dawn, his face tight with suspicion, as if he had sensed that something in his sphere did not belong. His gaze settled on her.

“Good morning,” she said quickly. Her voice, still rusty with sleep, sounded graveled. She cleared her throat.

“Libby, you’re early.”

“I wanted to see the greenhouse at dawn.”

“Why?”

“The light. It’s always a little magical this time of day.”

Rising early for the sake of magic seemed to amuse him. “Magical?”

“Yeah. It was special. It’s a stunning structure. I can see why Elaine wants to save it.”

“This is my favorite time of day,” he said. “I’m drawn by the solitude. The calm before the storm.”

“I’m convinced the two are intertwined,” Libby replied.

He grinned. “I’ve fresh coffee brewed if you’d like a cup. The boys are still asleep for another half hour. No chaos, I promise.”

She stepped toward him, feeling another tremor of excitement. “The boys aren’t so chaotic.”

He held the door open as she climbed the steps to the wide front porch. “Then you must be hard of hearing or a saint.”

This close she could see his hair was still damp from the shower, and the scent of soap clung to his skin. A tingle warmed her belly.

The cabin was large and spacious but simply decorated with a worn overstuffed couch, a recliner, and a wide-screen television. Kids’ shoes lined up neatly on the hearth, hats dangled from hooks on a rack by the door, and wall space was filled with pictures of the boys. There were no pictures of Colton and the boys’ mother.

“How long have you lived here?” She followed him toward the small kitchen.

“Two years now.” He filled a cup and held it up. “I have milk and sugar.”

“Black is fine.” She accepted the warm earthenware mug. “And you like living in the country?”

“I was afraid I’d hate it,” he said. “But it made sense for the boys having my mom close. Now I love it as much as she does.”

She sipped her coffee. She was happy for him and the boys. Always best to enjoy the smooth waters while you could, because choppy ones lurked over the horizon. The seas in her life had been so full of gale-force winds the last few years she welcomed even a small respite.

Her gaze rested on Colton’s forearm and the T-shirt snug over a full bicep.

“Crews arrive at eight. They’re removing the contents and stripping away all the vines on the outside.”

“Shame to see the honeysuckle go.”

“It’s tangled up in the ivy that’s eating into the stone foundation. I’m betting there’ll be plenty of repointing with fresh mortar. Once all that is done, we’ll shift to the glass.”

“You’re moving fast.”

“That’s Elaine. Once she sets her mind to something, it’s full steam ahead.”

“I’m very intrigued about what story it’ll tell.”

“That’s almost exactly how Elaine put it. She can’t wait to figure out why her grandparents suddenly closed it up.”

“It would have cost a fortune to build it. So whatever reason they had for walking away must have been powerful.”

“Hopefully, we’ll figure it out.”

“Is Elaine like this with all the projects?” She was intensely curious about Elaine.

He regarded her over the rim of his cup. “I’ve only worked with her here for a couple of years. She’s owned Woodmont for at least twenty-five years, and Mom said she had little interest in the place until recently. I’m glad she’s tackling the renovations. Old places like this deserve full attention.”

“Does she spend a lot of time here?”

“Since January, a few days a week.”

“Do you think she’ll make this an event space?”

“I hope she does. It’ll ease the money situation, and Woodmont deserves to be admired.”

She swirled her cup as more questions churned. “I’m curious,” she said. “Nosy, as my mother used to say.”

A slight smile tipped the edges of his lips. She noticed a tiny remnant of shaving cream below his sideburns and was so tempted to reach up and brush it away. She would have done exactly that with Jeremy.

Instead, she drank coffee, wondering if she should drive home and take a cold shower.

Small footsteps hit the floor in one of the bedrooms, and then came the steady stream in the toilet. There was a flush and a turning on of the tap. Seconds later, Sam appeared. His hair was sticking up, and a black Batman T-shirt skimmed his knees.

“Dad,” he said, yawning.

Colton set down his cup. “Hey, buddy.”

Sam yawned again and then rubbed his eyes, his gaze now locking on Libby. “What are you doing here?”

“Having coffee,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Oh.” The boy padded across the floor and scrambled up on the barstool beside hers. “That’s Jeff’s chair.”

“I’ll be sure to move when he gets up,” she said.

“He never lets me sit in that chair.” Sam scratched his belly.

Colton filled one of the bowls with oat cereal and then milk before setting it in front of Sam. “Eat up, pal. Is your brother awake?”