Unlike Ashley, Nelle had known how to keep anyone from taking her picture against her will.

Countless times, Nelle had invited Ashley down to Nashville. Ashley, in turn, had promised that one of these days she’d take her up on the invitation. It was one that, Nelle said, was always open.

When Ashley had called from a pay phone near the cemetery, Nelle didn’t hesitate. “You come right on over here, hon.” She set Ashley up on the sun porch with iced tea and told her just to rest and collect herself. “Then we’ll talk.”

Now Nelle had waited long enough. “All right, Ashley Wakefield. I want you this minute to tell me what’s wrong. I’ve never seen you like this. You’re just not acting like yourself. Now you’re going to sit here until you tell me.”

“Oh, Nelle, I don’t even know where to begin.”

Nelle scoffed. “I’ve got all the time in the world. You just go on and start at the beginning—or the middle or the end and we’ll just work our way around. Ashley, we’re friends. I’ve told you things, haven’t I? You can’t always keep everything locked up inside you.”

Nelle wanted nothing more than a chance to prove her friendship, and Ashley knew it, but she didn’t know if the wife of a candidate for the Tennessee State Assembly would approve of harboring a nonexistent person. And she could just imagine what Oliver would say.

Then Blythe Milligan slipped onto the porch and excused herself for interrupting. “Mother, there’s a man who wants to speak with you.”

“Who?” Nelle asked impatiently.

“Oh—” Her daughter blushed. “I forgot to get his name. Oh, but Mother, he’s just awesome!”

“Ashley, don’t you ever have a twelve-year-old like mine,” Nelle said, laughing over her shoulder in such a way that both Blythe and Ashley knew Nelle wouldn’t trade her elder daughter—or her own mixed-up life—for anything in the world.

Nelle was back in less than two minutes. “Ashley, you devil, you didn’t tell me a man was involved.”

Ashley jumped up. “My brother—”

“At a guess, uh-uh.”

“But David’s the only one... The fink! Is this guy tall...”

“Dark, pale-eyed, and, as my sweet little girl says, awesome. That’s the one. He’s also gloriously fit to be tied.” Nelle was clearly thrilled with this new development.

“Hell’s bells. Carruthers.”

Hattie, the housekeeper, was running through the adjoining den, screeching, “Sir! Sir! You can’t just go bargin’ in there! Sir!”

Jeremy stormed onto the sun porch, and Ashley’s heart began to pound when she saw how furious and sexy and concerned he looked. Hattie scurried in after him. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Milligan, but he just wouldn’t pay me no mind.”

“It’s all right, Hattie.” Nelle gave Jeremy a dazzling smile. “Well, I declare. If you two will excuse me a moment, I believe I’m needed in the kitchen.” Avoiding Ashley’s glare, Nelle followed Hattie out.

“I ought to wring your neck,” Jeremy said.

Ashley shrugged dismissively. “You can’t.”