When Ethan came in a few moments later to hunt up a beer, she had meat browning, potatoes frying in peanut oil, and a salad under way.

‘‘Smells great.’’ He stood awkwardly for a minute. He wasn’t used to having someone cook for him—not for years—and then not a woman. His father had been at home in the kitchen, but his mother . . . They’d always joked that whenever she cooked, they needed all her medical skills to survive the meal.

‘‘It’ll be ready in half an hour or so. I hope you don’t mind eating early. I’ve got to get Aubrey home and bathed and then change for work.’’

‘‘I never mind eating, especially when I’m not doing the cooking. And the fact is, I want to get to the boatyard for a couple hours tonight.’’

‘‘Oh.’’ She looked back, blowing at her bangs. ‘‘You should have told me. I’d have hurried things up.’’

‘‘This pace works for me.’’ He took a pull from the bottle. ‘‘You want a drink or something?’’

‘‘No, I’m fine. I was going to use that salad dressing Phillip made up. It looks so much prettier than the store-bought.’’

The rain was letting up, petering out into slow, drizzling drops with watery sunlight struggling to break through. Grace glanced toward the window. She was always hoping to see a rainbow. ‘‘Anna’s flowers are doing well,’’ she commented. ‘‘The rain’s good for them.’’

‘‘Saves me from dragging out the hose. She’d have my head if they died on her while she’s gone.’’

‘‘Wouldn’t blame her. She worked so hard getting them planted before the wedding.’’ Grace worked quickly, competently as she spoke. Draining crisp potatoes, adding more to the sizzling oil. ‘‘It was such a beautiful wedding,’’ she went on as she mixed sauce for the meat in a bowl.

‘‘Came off all right. We got lucky with the weather.’’

‘‘Oh, it couldn’t have rained that day. It would have been a sin.’’ She could see it all again, so clearly. The green of the grass in the backyard, the sparkling of water. The flowers Anna had planted glowing with color—and the ones she’d bought spilling out of pots and bowls along-side the white runner that the bride had walked down to meet her groom.

A white dress billowing, the thin veil only accentuating the dark, deliriously happy eyes. Chairs had been filled with friends and family. Anna’s grandparents had both wept. And Cam—rough-and-tumble Cameron Quinn—had looked at his bride as if he’d just been given the keys to heaven.

A backyard wedding, Grace thought now. Sweet, simple, romantic. Perfect.

‘‘She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.’’ Grace said it with a sigh that was only lightly touched with envy. ‘‘So dark and exotic.’’

‘‘She suits Cam.’’