“Here, I have a crochet hook and some extra yarn. Come and show me how you started that potholder. I love that design,” a lady from across the table said.

Ginny nudged her granddaughter. “Go on, try it.”

“I’m going for a plate of cookies first.”

“Girl after my own heart,” Rich muttered, staring at the bird he was carving in bas-relief on a block of wood.

“You have trouble too, Mr. Owens. I think cookies can cure about anything.” Addy rose and headed for the refreshment table.

“That is one special girl. How old did you say she was, Ginny?”

“Almost twelve. She’s pretty grown-up for her age. Both of the twins are but girls are always ahead of boys. They had a baby brother who was born with severe health problems that took him home to heaven at three. They were six and had lived with Fred and me for much of those earlier three years.” Ginny choked on the last line. “Both Fred and I are so proud of them and love being with them. I have been to their home a couple times since Fred died, and Andy and I get along fine. But he still can’t handle coming to the farm.” She blinked rapidly.

“Losing someone we love like that is so hard on everyone.” Rich smiled at Addy as she set the plate of cookies down. “What kinds are they?”

“Chocolate chip, oatmeal with raisins, snickerdoodles.”

“Three of my favorite kinds.”

Nate shook his head. “There is no kind of cookies not my dad’s favorite kind.”

“Well, what’s your favorite kind?” Rich looked at each of them.

“Ginger cookies.” Roxie didn’t have to think. “Especially the ginger cookies at Annie’s.”

“I’m like Rich, I can’t think of one kind I don’t like. I even like those lemon or ginger ones in the box at the grocery store,” Amalia said.

“Lemon bars,” Loren said with a smile. “Mom makes the best lemon bars. I think Addy uses the same recipe. Yum.”

Addy took her yarn and crochet hook around the table to sit with the other woman. “I can chain just fine now—ripping out gives me lots of practice with chaining.”

“Done!” a woman announced. “I finally finished something.”

“Stand and take a bow,” MJ called, laughing and clapping with the others. “Hold it up. Counted cross-stitch no less. Good for you!”

“This baby picture will be appreciated by her mother even though the child is in kindergarten. My daughter had given up hope. She even bought the frame for it years ago.” She inhaled and blew out the breath. “I really finished it. Thank you, all of you. The encouragement stuff is almost addictive. I can’t wait to decide which to work on next.”

Roxie felt Rich’s knee touch hers. She looked up to catch his smile. Between the touch and the smile, the tingles shot to her middle and settled in. Her breath did a jig. She was beginning to wonder if she had reverted back to teenhood. This was crazy; after all, she was nearing her mid-fifties. She needed a man in her life like she needed, ah, needed…Nothing came to mind. Ouch, she stuck herself with the needle.