It was all a little weird, but more than that, far more, I was shocked that people were so willing to help. I had no idea what Rafe had said or done to convince people to drop their lives and help finish a house and move a librarian’s belongings, but I would be forever grateful to him, and to them.

And then I knew what I had to do.

I rustled through my backpack for an envelope. “Hey, everybody!” I stood on a chair and clapped my hands, wishing for the millionth time that I knew how to do the Loud Whistle thing. “It’s time to announce the winner of the pool. Get out your dates.”

“What’s going on?” Rafe looked around as everyone gathered near, most of them opening their wallets or phones.

It was time to come clean with the love of my life. “Remember a while back there was a rumor about a betting pool for the date I moved in?”

“Yeah. You said you didn’t know anything about it.”

I beamed. “That was a lie. I’m the one who started the pool.” Laughing at his look of complete and utter disbelief, I called out, “And the winner is . . . Mitchell Koyne! How you did it, I don’t know, but you picked the exact date.”

Applause erupted, and I handed over the stack of one-dollar bills to a grinning Mitchell. “Here you go. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

“Hang on, everybody,” Rafe said, waving his arms. “There’s one more thing to do publicly. Minnie agreed to marry me two months ago, and I’ve taken all sorts of crap because I haven’t given her a ring.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Pam called. “What kind of a slacker are you?”

Rafe nodded. “I get it. It looks bad. But let me tell you a story. In Minnie’s junior year of high school, her family came north to spend Memorial Day with her aunt Frances. Kristen got the bright idea that it would be fun to go swimming in Lake Michigan, and Minnie went along with it.”

“Freaking cold,” Kristen said. “The water was forty degrees. We never did that again.”

“No, but do you remember what else happened?”

I did. “My high school class ring. I lost it that day.”

Rafe tugged a small box from his jeans pocket. “I have a buddy with a metal detector, and for months he’s been working that beach. Three weeks ago—”

My face went still. “He found it?”

“Well, sort of. The metal was bashed up from the rocks, but the stone, your birthstone, is fine. And, uh, do you like how it looks as an engagement ring?”