Well, she could change. Pulling her shoulders back, she lifted her chin and determinedly smiled at the world around her. Pure white peaks, dark green forests. The glint of the stunningly turquoise lake. So real and immediate. Not a painting or photo in a museum.

She could smell the wetlands by the lake and hear the thunking noise of someone chopping firewood.

And from a backyard came an English-accented woman’s voice: “Plague you, knee, you bolting-hutch of beastliness. You…”

Audrey hadn’t heard such cursing since attending her last Shakespearean play, and she stopped in amazed admiration.

“Support me, you villainous, foul deformity of nature.” The Elizabethan swearing ended with a muffled groan.

That didn’t sound good. Audrey hurried around the side of the house.

Inside a fenced garden, an older woman with chin-length white hair was on her hands and knees, struggling to stand.

“Wait. Let me help,” Audrey hurried through the gate. “Are you hurt?”

Blue-gray eyes sparkled with annoyance. “Don’t ever get old, child. It’s the pits.”

Audrey choked on a laugh.

“I could use help getting up, yes.” The slender woman smiled.

“All right.” Bracing her sore ribs with an arm, Audrey bent to give the lady her hand.

“Uh-uh, Goldilocks.” A firm grip closed on her shoulder.

Releasing the lady, Audrey spun. Her eyes widened. “You.”

“’Fraid so.” Gabe’s mouth twitched. He put an arm around her waist and purposefully moved her back before speaking to the older woman. “Ms. Wilson has cracked ribs and shouldn’t lift anything. Let me help.”

Audrey wanted to argue, but her voice didn’t work, silenced by his touch, by his commanding baritone, even by his scent. The fact that he was right made it all worse.

“Chief MacNair, I believe?” The lady smiled, as self-possessed and dignified as if she were at high tea. “I would appreciate your assistance. I’m Lillian Gainsborough. Do please call me Lillian.”

“Good to meet you, ma’am.” Gabe bent, gently scooped the woman off the ground, and straightened. “How badly are you hurt?”

He strode out of the garden toward the long back porch, and Audrey followed.

“I didn’t fall, and I’m not hurt,” Lillian said. “I knelt to see if the soil was warm enough to begin planting, but my knee refused to cooperate when I tried to rise.”

“Ah.” Gabe climbed the two steps of the back porch and settled Lillian on a chair. “Considering the distance between houses here, you might consider getting a medical alert system. In the house or your garden, you can push the button and get help.

“Honestly, what’s next—a walker?” Lillian said under her breath. “Of course, you’re right, Chief. I’ll get one.”