As the front door closed, Zac shook his head. It wasn’t the start to the day he’d expected, but at least his house was safe.
His hand tightened around the keys. Now that he was out of bed, he might as well have breakfast and decide what he was going to do today.
At the top of his list was calling Mabel to let her know he was home. After that, he’d go for a run. If that didn’t blow the jet lag from his brain, nothing would.
Willow drove backto her house thinking about her neighbor. With his short brown hair and close-cut beard, Zac was closer to forty than the sixty-year-old she’d imagined. And even though he looked like death warmed over, there was something in his deep brown eyes that was calm and reassuring. Something that made her wonder why he hadn’t come back to Sapphire Bay sooner.
When she’d bought her property three years ago, she’d visited his home to say hello. But each time she’d made the trek through the forest, no one had been there. At first, she’d thought the house was a vacation home. But when no one stayed there, she wondered if it was an investment property. It wasn’t until Mabel told her Zac worked for Doctors Without Borders, that she’d offered to help look after the property.
Even though she didn’t know Zac, she admired what he was doing. When she read news reports about what was happening in the war-torn countries around the world, she thought about her mysterious neighbor. And when his friends stayed in his home, she restocked the pantry with fresh food and added some of her preserves and jams, doing what she could to make their visit to Sapphire Bay more enjoyable.
As she turned into her driveway, she smiled. Her home was the complete opposite of Zac’s. Instead of a wide, wrap-around veranda and towering gable roof, her single-story house looked like an English country cottage, transported into the middle of the wilderness.
When she’d first seen the white picket fence, the ancient birdbath, and the colorful window boxes, she knew this was where she wanted to live. After calling Nashville home for eight years, her cottage soothed her soul and reminded her of all the good things in the world.
And one of those good things was standing in front of her garage. Brooke had made Sapphire Bay her home about the same time Willow had returned. They’d quickly become friends, sharing the ups and downs of moving to another town and settling into a different way of life.
In a few days, Brooke was marrying the man of her dreams in a barn not far from Willow’s cottage. Hopefully, the notoriously fickle mid-March weather would be kind and not bring a late snowstorm to Sapphire Bay.
She rolled down her window and smiled at the package her friend was holding. “You brought some fudge?”
“I’m trying different recipes. Would you tell me which ones you like the best?”
“I’d love to. I’ll just park my truck.” By the time Willow stepped out of her vehicle, she had goosebumps on her arms. “Come inside before we freeze.”
Brooke laughed. “It’s not that cold. You were out early this morning. I thought you’d be working on your exhibition.”
Although Willow liked making preserves and jams, it was a small part of her life. Three years ago, she’d started her own photography business. Most of her work focused on the wildlife and scenery around Montana but, occasionally, she took commissions for other work. And this morning, Brooke was here to discuss her wedding photos.
Willow unlocked the front door and placed her jacket on the coat stand. “I’ll do more work on my prints after we’ve finished. I’ve been at my neighbor’s house, restocking the pantry.”
“Is someone staying there?”
“Zac was supposed to arrive tomorrow, but he caught an earlier flight home. He was asleep when I arrived.”
Brooke followed Willow along the hallway. “Sounds intriguing.”
“It would have been better if he didn’t have a baseball bat in his hands. He thought I was a burglar.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but Zac looked exhausted. I don’t know how long he was asleep, but it wasn’t enough.”
“It probably has something to do with working in Afghanistan. For a long time, Levi was the same.” Brooke stood in the middle of Willow’s studio, staring at the canvas in front of her. “Is that photo going in your exhibition?”
“It is.”
“It’s incredible.”
The awe in her friend’s voice humbled Willow. She’d spent a lot of time layering eight digital images on top of each other, erasing part of each photo, and changing the transparency. The result was a landscape of the Rocky Mountains that was so real, you could almost feel the sunshine on your face.
“Why didn’t you become a professional photographer years ago?”
“Music was my life. I never thought about doing anything else.”
Brooke sighed. “I’m glad you changed careers. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have created this canvas. If you’re not careful, a fancy-pants gallery owner will want to exhibit your work in New York City.”
“That would be amazing, but they’ll have to wait. I have a special wedding to photograph.”
