Renee briefly wondered where one bought a hamster in Cranberry Cove before looking at the clock—their next patient wasn’t expected for another ten minutes. Now would be an excellent time to make a move. She could go back to his office, check if he needed anything. Would he press her against the wall, tickling her neck with his bristly face as it made its way toward her cleavage? Or would he be softer, gentler than that, perhaps pulling her to his chest as she luxuriated in the feel of his hands spanning her waist.

She tiptoed up the hall, heart pounding in anticipation, and just as she was about to step into his office with a flirty, “Hey, handsome,” she stopped short.

He stood with his back toward her, holding a framed photo of his dead wife.

Suddenly it felt wrong to stand there, too voyeuristic and intrusive. This moment felt private and not for her. It felt wrong to want. What if his wife was watching from above thinking “Hands off my man.”

Goose bumps broke out along the back of her arms. She retreated to her desk and took a sip of coffee with shaking hands.

Everything had felt so magical that she’d never fully considered Dan’s position. He’d lost his wife. His wife! Who knew how he was feeling right now. Losing her own parents in quick succession a few years ago had been a devastating blow. Some days she’d feel fine, and then out of the blue, it would feel like the earth had opened up and threatened to swallow her whole.

The remainder of the morning, Renee quietly freaked out. What should she say? What should she do? Share that she caught him in that moment? Let it go? For Dan’s part, he was more introspective than usual, and certainly more gawky. They were constantly bumping into one another in the carpeted hall, each mumbling apologies and evading eye contact at all cost.

Then Essie Park burst through the door at noon.

“There’s my favorite future pie shop owner in all of Cranberry Cove!” She removed her straw sunhat with a flourish and shook out her impossibly perfect hair. “How goes it?”

“That’s an awfully specific title, especially for a woman who hasn’t signed the papers yet.” Renee couldn’t help but smile, though. That would be a pretty amazing title to have.

“Tell me you’re thinking about it.”

“Yes,” she promised. “Sadie told me about her and Lincoln’s tour of the mill. It sounds pretty special.”

“‘Pretty special’ doesn’t begin to cover it. The space is outstanding.” Essie reached into her tan leather handbag and procured a crisp white envelope. “Hey, do me a favor and pass this along to Dr. Dan?”

Renee took the envelope, examining the beautiful calligraphy.

“What is it? A wedding invitation?”