“I’m not done yet,” he said. “I plan on replacing the oven as soon as I can. I found a vintage black Viking on eBay.”

“How do the ladies in town like it?” Colleen asked.

“Don’t let them up here much,” Shane said. “You know how it is. Married to the pub, as they say.”

“Love just mucks you up anyway.”

“So cynical you are now.” He shook his wet hair so droplets splashed her face and T-shirt.

She reached to lightly smack his arm, but he dodged her just as he’d learned to do through the years. “I’m not cynical at all. Just a bit more realistic than the girl who left here.”

“Does that help, Lena?” Shane grew serious, his smile lost and his hands grasping the edges of the chair.

“Huh?” Colleen knew what he meant, but hoped she could change the subject.

“Does all your travel help to keep you from becoming mucked up with love?”

“I love my job. I don’t know that it helps in that way, but I adore discovering new places and absorbing all I can about them, then trying to put my experiences into a story for the people who won’t ever get to travel there. I’ve been to places that make this world seem small.”

“This world?” He held out his hands to hold Watersend in his palms.

She laughed. “No! I mean the entire world. When you travel, it seems smaller, all of us connected by water and land. That’s all.” She paused. “No place is small. Not this town, not any place I’ve visited. They’re all connected, and all unique and all the same. No matter where I go, people want to talk about love, relationships, how special their home is. We aren’t so different, really.”

“I know traveling can be fascinating, but I just wondered if going all over the world keeps you from missing us, from missing Watersend.”

Colleen weighed the question. “Yes, it does help,” she said just as the click-snap of the front doorknob caused them to turn together.

The door opened and there stood Hallie. She hadn’t knocked, was obviously accustomed to coming and going in Shane’s apartment. And that quickly, Colleen felt left out. Even if it was her choice to disappear, she felt as though they’d been sneaking around behind her back. She found her hand placed protectively across her stomach, and she had a sudden need to be alone, very alone.

“Good morning,” Hallie said cheerily, apple cheeked and forced-friendly with cups of Revelator coffee in a cardboard carrier, lifting it high. “You know I hate your coffee, Shane.” She smiled at him and he smiled in return and Colleen watched their easy way.

“You hate anyone’s coffee but theirs,” Shane said.