“Looks like the electricity is out again,” she said when he didn’t move.

Finally Ketch said in almost a whisper, “This place is magic. The craftsmanship, the balance, the beauty, the soul of the place.”

She’d never thought of the house like that. “Grannie Eva said her husband’s brother, Tony, built it for them. It took him years because he loved my grandmother’s cooking. Over the decades, Tony would return between jobs to add on and keep up the place. He built the four big rooms downstairs first, like it was the whole house, then they built the rest of the house around the base. Tony claimed it was never finished. One summer he added an attic floor just for the fun of it.”

“Where will we eat?”

“The porch, of course. Since my grannie died, I live in the four original rooms she called the base. It’s enough for me. I use the porch as my little dining room.”

“When we finish, will you give me a tour?”

“Sure.”

They grabbed their food and ran for the house. Just enough sun filtered through the clouds and low-hanging branches to make it seem like twilight on the corner of the porch.

Ketch laughed as he shook off water and for the first time she saw a young man beneath the drunk, wounded, sad stranger of last night.

An old three-legged table sat in a corner sheltered from the rain. She motioned for him to take the one chair. He draped his jacket over her shoulders before he divided up their food while she sat on the railing, patiently waiting.

Her knee brushed his shoulder and the quiet shelter made her feel like they were alone in the world.

They ate and talked about the weather and the food. Then they both silently enjoyed the stillness and beauty of this strange little farm called Primrose Hill.

She looked at him, knowing they’d probably reached the limit of their conversation skills, but they were comfortable.

He wasn’t facing her but staring out into the rain. Finally, his words came low. “I want to talk to you, Tuesday. I just don’t know how to start. I like the idea of having a friend. I haven’t managed to find one at the college. I know lots of people, but not one who’d watch over me when I sleep.”

“Me either. I thought I had a few, but they vanished when someone started a rumor about me.”

“Was it true?”

“Yeah, some of it was.” She was glad he didn’t ask what the rumor had been.

He was silent for a while as he stared at the rain dripping off newborn tree branches. “It’s beautiful out here.”

“I know. This place, this land is part of me. Maybe someday I’ll have the money to fix it up. I’ll live here the rest of my life, just like my great-grandmother did.”