She was still thinking about her mama’s message from the grave and what she was going to do about it. The whole thing hinged on getting all of them together without revealing why. Maybe they’d gather at the old house to go through Mama’s things. That would be a logical reason to gather, and Hunt had already told them to feel free to get what they wanted in the way of keepsakes.

Satisfied that she’d figured that out, she went to the living room with her coffee, curled up in her recliner beneath a quilt, and aimed the remote at the television. She didn’t care what she watched. She just wanted to hear something besides the sound of her own heartbeat.

* * *

Hunt walked out of the house at ten minutes to six wearing Wrangler jeans, his brown Justin boots, and a gray sweater under his black leather bomber jacket.

His dark hair brushed the collar of the jacket as he walked to the truck and then made sure the seat was dusted off before he got inside.

He’d backed out of this drive in his mother’s car many a time during his high school days to go get his date, but he’d never felt this level of anticipation. He drove the short distance between them in haste and parked behind her car before going to the door.

She answered on the second knock and swung the door inward.

Her long hair was down and in long, soft curls, and the pink sweater and gray slacks she was wearing flattered her curves and long legs. But her dark eyes were flashing in frustration.

“Come in. I’m trying to find my phone.”

He took his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the keypad, then handed it to her.

“Call yourself.”

She grabbed his phone. “Yes! Thanks,” she muttered, and quickly keyed in the numbers.

Almost immediately they both heard her phone ringing.

Hunt grinned. It was a Bon Jovi song. “Your ringtone is ‘Living on a Prayer’?”

“Shut up and help me find it,” Ava said.

“It’s that way,” Hunt said.

“That’s the laundry. Please Jesus I didn’t wash the sucker,” Ava muttered.

Hunt laughed out loud. “Well, it’s ringing, so I doubt it’s been through the wash.”

“Oh, right,” she said, and made a run for the utility room before her phone quit ringing.

Within seconds, she was digging through the basket of laundry she’d been going to wash.

“Ta-da!” she cried, and pulled it out. “I guess it fell out of my pocket when I was gathering up laundry. Thank you, Hunt.”

“So, did I just get a glimpse of you in action?”

Her eyes narrowed. “If you think that was me being upset, it’s not even close.”

He nodded. “Right. I remember. Good enough. I always say if you’re gonna raise hell about something, make it memorable.”