He spoke with confidence and I believed him. I also didn’t care. “You do realize my boat doesn’t have central heat. And that I don’t have a budget for the repair of frozen pipes.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. You won’t freeze and neither will your pipes.”

I trusted this man more than I trusted myself, but even in these final phases of renovation, things could happen to derail the entire Minnie-moves-in-early-October plan. I made a mental note to devise a Plan B. Aunt Frances and new husband, Otto, might be okay with me as a roommate for a few weeks. And there was Cousin Celeste. Or Kristen.

“One of these days,” Rafe said, “we’ll have to get you a ring. Any thoughts on what you want?”

“Julia designed ten different versions for me today.”

“Any that you like?”

“Not a single one.” The black diamond she’d described had sounded gorgeous, but then I’d looked it up on my phone and seen how much they could cost. Rafe had to be spending a frightening amount of money on the house and I didn’t want my ring to cause him financial pain.

My legs, under the weight of a sleeping Eddie, were themselves going to sleep. I shifted, but slowly, so as not to disturb my furry friend. “I’ve been thinking. What’s the point of paying for an engagement ring? It’s not like we’re any less engaged without one.”

“Male pride,” he said. “No way am I going to let Ash Wolverson think he could have done better, ring-wise.”

It was a ridiculous statement in a wide variety of ways. But I did believe the kernel of it: that Rafe wanted me to wear his ring. This warmed my heart and, for some reason, almost made me cry.

Which was when I realized how tired I was. A few minutes later, Rafe left and I headed to bed, where Eddie was waiting for me. He’d plopped himself in the middle of the narrow mattress, so I slid him over and wedged myself between the sheets.

Exhaustion had hit when I was brushing my teeth, and I was sure I’d fall sound asleep as soon as I closed my eyes. “Night, Eddie,” I murmured, and through the sheets and quilt, I felt the rumbling comfort of his nearly silent nighttime purr.

But as I lay there, waiting for sleep to overtake me, what happened was my mind stirred the evening’s events around from one side of my skull to the other. One thing led to another, and soon I was wide awake, with question after question tugging at me.

How had Brown died? There’d been no evidence of injury. A heart attack? Then why had his bicycle, which hadn’t seemed to have a thing wrong with it, been hidden behind a tree? And why had he been in the middle of the road?

*   *   *