“Yep, that’s good.” Jackson smiled. Miz Lucy had said that all three of her grandchildren were as misguided as her kids had been, and that she hoped making them spend some time together would help them. Sanding that chest of drawers had sure put Jackson on the right track. Maybe sanding a hope chest would do the same for Flynn.

Nessa had a glass of cold sweet tea in her hands when she heard Flynn and April talking in the backyard. Leaving her drink, she got up from the porch steps and went around to where April was pruning rosebushes and Flynn looked like he had rolled in cornmeal.

Nessa’s finger shot up and pointed right at Flynn. Somehow her arm felt separate from her body. She wondered if it had moved on its own. “Where have you been, and what’s that all over you?”

“I don’t think anyone has asked me that question in fifteen years.” Flynn grinned. “Does that mean you care about me?”

“Not in the least. It means that I’d like to know where you’ve been. I thought maybe you’d seen a pretty woman and headed for the nearest motel,” Nessa threw back at him.

Flynn dusted the sawdust off his shirt with the palm of his hand. “I went over to Jackson’s place to thank him for bringing Waylon home, and I spent a couple of hours sanding on a hope chest. It wasn’t finished, but I really enjoyed doing that. Is supper ready?”

Nessa wondered if Flynn had found a way to work through his problems. If so, she hoped that he’d go visit Jackson every day. “Leftovers are on the stove,” she said. “April and I have already eaten, and we are going to the waterfall for a swim.”

“I’ll see you after I eat.” Flynn whistled as he headed into the house.

April kept nipping the dead buds off the bushes and catching them in a paper bag. “Go on without me. I’ve got one more rosebush to prune, and then I’ll be down there.”

“Don’t take too long. The sunsets are always beautiful over the falls.” Nessa picked up her towel and took the first steps down the pathway to the creek.