“Because I get the impression that he planned to put Waylon and all of that stuff on the porch and then leave,” Nessa answered. “He told us what to do with the cat and then hurried back out into the dark like he didn’t want to talk to us.”

“He seemed surprised to see anyone up and around this early,” April added. “He’s younger than I thought he would be.”

“Oh, yeah?” Flynn yawned again.

“Yep,” Nessa said. “I figured he’d be middle-aged at the very least. D. J. was at least eighty, so a nephew would be forty or fifty.”

“Maybe D. J.’s brother didn’t have Jackson until later in life.” Flynn picked up the carrier. “We’re all waking up early because Nanny Lucy used to kick us out of bed before daylight.” The cat began to howl and wiggle around in the carrier. Flynn set it back down. “When we come here, we think that’s what we have to do. The house or the place has its own rules, and we’ve been trained to follow them,” he said above the noise of the cat, and then picked the carrier up again and set it inside the door. “I’m going to turn this noisy critter loose and get a cup of coffee. Is it strong enough to curl my toenails? What did Jackson look like?”

“Of course, it’s good coffee.” April stood up and gathered as much of the canned food into her arms as she could carry. “It was still dark enough that we couldn’t see the man very well, but I’d guess he’s about our age. He was taller than you, and I could see dark hair under his baseball cap. That’s about it.”

“You don’t have to rub it in that I’m not tall,” Flynn said.

“I didn’t say that you were short. I said that Jackson was taller than you,” April said.

“Same difference,” Flynn argued. His dad, who had been touchy about his height, too, was only an inch taller than Flynn.

Nessa could hear them still going at it after they were in the house. She sipped her coffee and watched the morning light slowly turn the dark blobs out there in the distance into individual trees. She could stay right here in Blossom for the rest of her life if she wanted, and peace filled her soul when she thought about doing just that. Before, every time she’d come to Blossom, there had been a dreaded deadline—a week, two weeks at the most, maybe to come back later for just an overnight visit—but today she didn’t have to worry about leaving.

“Your phone has been ringing, stopping, and then ringing again.” Flynn opened the door and crossed the porch. “Can’t imagine who’d be calling any of us this early.” He handed the phone to her and went back inside.