“I wrote my number down on a piece of paper for each of the kids, and they said they knew yours, so that’s covered.” He took her by the hand and led her to the foyer, helped her into her coat, and opened the door for her.

She picked up her purse and headed toward his truck that was parked right beside her car. Even though it was dusty, it sure looked better than that sleek little sports car Wyatt had been driving.

Taking her to his folks’ house might not be called a date, but Mack chose to think of it as one, anyway. He started the engine and adjusted the heater so that she would be warm. When they passed the historical marker out at the end of the lane, he asked, “So you’re the third generation to live in the house?”

“Sally and I were talking about that today. I think I might be the sixth.” She explained what she and Sally had pieced together. “And we could be long-ago kin to Granny Hayes.”

“Small world.” He didn’t want to talk about ancestors and relatives. He’d rather hear something about Lily. “Did you like growing up in the old stone place, or would you have rather lived in a modern one-story house?”

“It was home, so I never gave it much thought, except when tourists blocked the driveway or drove right up in the yard to take pictures of the place,” she said. “How have you liked living there?”

“Loved it. The whole place, from the house to the barn to the old smokehouse, has got personality,” Mack said. “It kind of reminds me of the place where I grew up. It wasn’t on the historical registry, but it wasn’t a newer, modern place, either. Personally, I think Mama would have been better to keep Dad in his familiar surroundings, but Adam was insistent that they move closer to Dad’s doctors. Now he’s even more disoriented than before, and he gets angry when he can’t find things. Mama says the doctors say that’s part of the disease and not to argue with him.” His phone rang, and he fished it out of his hip pocket, laid it on the console, and put it on speaker. “Hello.”

“Mack, this is Braden. We’re in the car on the way to the hotel, and I forgot to tell you that I left my boots in the barn. If Star gets them, she’ll chew them up.”

“You’re on speaker,” Mack said. “Your mom is right here beside me. I’ll take care of the boots.”

“Gimme that phone,” Holly shouted. “This is Holly, and I’m talking now. My goat won’t eat his smelly old boots. His goat might, but my sweet girl doesn’t like the taste of dirty feet.”