Bea studied her for a moment and then got up, turned the Open sign to Closed, and locked the door.

Bea sat in stunned silence, tears rolling unchecked down her face. “I don’t know what to say.”

Clare squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“When you said you’d had an accident, well, it just never occurred to me—”

“Of course it didn’t. It’s not a story you hear every day.”

Bea suddenly snapped out of her stupor. “Why are you comforting me? Come here.” She reached out to hug Clare.

“Thanks for listening.”

“Thank you for trusting me with your story. I’m so sorry for what your family’s been through.”

“Thank you, but we’re all doing better now.”

“I can’t wait to meet your girls.”

Clare smiled. “They’ll like you. Despite all this, they’re great kids. I have to give Jack credit. He did a good job with them while I was sick.”

“I can’t believe how generous you are toward him.”

“I love him,” Clare said with a shrug. “I want him to be happy, and someday things will be better for me, too. I have to believe that, or all of this will have been for nothing.”

“You did an admirable thing. You put someone else’s happiness ahead of your own. I know good things are ahead for you.”

“I’m already happier here than I’ve been in months. Stowe’s been good for me.”

Bea squeezed Clare’s hand. “We’ll take good care of you until you’re ready to go home.”

After work the next day, Clare stopped at McHugh’s to pick up vegetable soup for dinner. On an impulse, she ordered a second bowl to go.

Aidan was running a plank through the table saw on the front porch when she arrived at home. He wore protective goggles and sawdust clung to his face and hair. He finished the cut, examined his work, and turned off the saw.

“Hi,” she said.

He startled. “Oh, hi. I didn’t see you.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you and cost you a finger. That thing looks pretty sinister.”

He held the storm door for her. “It’s not so bad.”

She went inside.

Carrying the board he had cut, he followed her in.

“I got some soup. Are you hungry?”

“I’m fine.”

She held up the bag. “I got extra.”

“It does smell good.” He ran a hand through his wavy brown hair to brush out the sawdust.

“Stop playing hard to get and come up to my formal dining room.” She led him upstairs to the spare bedroom she was using as a makeshift kitchen.

“Let me wash my hands,” he said, ducking into the bathroom.

Clare took the soup and plastic spoons out of the bag. The soup’s aroma made her mouth water, but she’d come to expect nothing less from Diana.