Could almost a year have gone by since she quite literally drove into the sunset? The notion seemed impossible, but the calendar didn’t lie.

She peeled the paper from a steaming muffin and replayed Jennifer’s message just to hear her laugh and snort. Then she read a juicy email from Claire, with all the local scuttlebutt.

According to Claire, construction was underway on a state-of-the-art medical clinic Richard designed to serve the rural communities surrounding Green Ridge. An article in a well-regarded medical journal profiling his handling of Rebecca’s meningitis, the efforts to stop the spread of disease among her Ohio family, and his campaign to bring high-tech medicine to rural populations would publish this fall. He’d been spotted making house calls with a curvy ER nurse named Cindy, and rumor had it they were dating. Claire long since forgave Tessa for breaking Richard’s heart, and Tessa spent a wonderful week with the MacMillans when the whole family traveled to Aspen for a spring break ski trip.

She took a bite of muffin. The top offered a satisfying crunch, and the fluffy inside dissolved on her tongue, leaving behind a tang of berry. Delicious. Happy almost-one-year-Colorado-versary.

She had a good year…a peaceful year. Who would have thought such a profound life change could be so simple? But, under all that snow, the world was quiet. Marcia graciously introduced her to a wide circle of friends. They were largely city-folks who forsook the rat race for a life at eight thousand feet. Bankers and businesspeople turned ski instructors and chefs, they were thoughtful folks who kept her smiling through Marcia’s weekly potlucks. She’d been content…mostly. Until the snow melted…

What was dinging?

She caught the smell of caramelizing sugar. The second batch of muffins! She completely forgot them already. Out of the oven and onto the trivet they went. Jeez. She just couldn’t focus on anything.

Up to her elbows in soapy water, she cringed when a knock on the door tapped into her consciousness. Marcia’s latest email remained unanswered. Her column was two days late.

The knock came again, more firmly.

She dried her hands on her apron and grabbed a muffin. “Marcia, I’m coming. I haven’t written a word, but you’ve got to try a blueberry muffin. It’s my mother’s recipe.” She flung open the front door.

And she very nearly passed out.

He wore faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt, his old boots, and a pinched cowboy hat. His hair was shorter, and his skin even more tanned.

In his face was a freedom she’d never seen. In his eyes breathed the open road. In his hands was a bouquet of wildflowers.

His lips lifted in a crooked grin. “I’d love a muffin. Thanks.”

Jonas.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She blinked once…twice. He didn’t disappear.

He held out the flowers. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”