Her mind hobbled backward as she sat up. The tears that had hit halfway home from Tate Carter’s house. The tug she’d felt to come here. She’d texted Neil, hadn’t she? And he’d come and she’d been a wreck and, goodness, had she cried herself to sleep? That was a first.

And nothing less than embarrassing.

“I hope I didn’t wake you up. I just got back. I wasn’t sure how long . . . that is, I didn’t want you to wake up alone out here, and plus, I’d left the space heater on. I was only gone long enough to do the evening chores. Well, and grab some food.”

But then, what was he doing earlier while she slept? Probably hanging those lights. She didn’t think they’d been up before, not that she’d been up to noticing much detail when she arrived. Not like she did now—the simple picture-frame decorations on two walls, the distressed farmhouse headboard, the off-white wool blanket tucked around her and pretty comforter underneath.

Oh, shoot, it was all wrinkled now and she’d climbed atop it with her shoes still on and . . . please, let her not have snored. But not even that would have been as humiliating as what was sliding its way into her memory now—the way Neil had found her hours ago, her gut-wrenching sobs. “I’m suddenly intensely mortified.”

“Why? I’m going to guess you didn’t sleep much last night. You clearly needed the rest.”

“No . . . I don’t mean . . . well, yes . . . but also . . .”

He rescued her with a smile clearly meant to ease her. “Want some cobbler? It’s after six. Did you even have lunch?”

“I did. I ended up going into town with Tate Carter. We ate at the Brunch Barn.” She stood, her legs wobbly. “But yes. I definitely want cobbler.”

He gave a nod that said Good and motioned her over to the table. “There’s decaf coffee in the Thermos. Indi says I’ll need to get a Keurig in here. I’m wondering if maybe I should add a little built-in counter over there—for a coffee bar, a small microwave, maybe a mini-fridge underneath.”

She slid onto the chair opposite Neil. “It looks amazing in here. Almost . . .” She searched for the right word, thankful for a moment that the focus was off her. “Enchanting.”

He set a plate in front of her, poured her a mug of coffee, and sat. “That’s the exact word Indi used when she was here earlier today. She picked out most of the stuff. However, I’m proud to say the lights were my idea. On a starry night, the place is better off without them, what with the skylight and all. But on a cloudy evening like this, I think they work.”

They more than worked.

“Indi says the windows need curtains, though. Apparently she’s got the perfect thing back at her store in Augusta. She left this afternoon to go pick them up. She insisted since she knows I’m showing Maggie the place tomorrow.”