She dropped her towel on the grass beside the water, slipped off her oversize chambray shirt, and kicked her flip-flops to the side. The grass was cool and soft beneath her bare feet, just like she remembered it from when she was young. She wished that she were an artist or a poet so she could do justice to the only place where she’d ever truly felt content. She had always associated being here with her grandmother, but after some of the vibes she got off April, maybe she had been content here simply because she needed a happy place to go to when things were rough at home. Evidently, things were different when April was alone with Nanny Lucy.

She stuck her toes in the water and gasped.

“It’s not all that cold,” a deep voice said from the top of the rocks that formed the actual falls. “Miz Lucy said the red-haired granddaughter was Nessa. I guess that’s you, right? We met when I brought Waylon home.”

“Yes, we did.” She nodded. “What are you doing here?”

“My property line cuts right across the middle of the falls. You’re sticking your feet in my part of the creek. I don’t mind, but we’ve got ‘No Trespassing’ signs put up all over the property.”

“Well, then you’re probably sitting on my rocks,” she said. When he had brought Waylon home, it had been too dark to really see what he looked like, but oh, my goodness, he set her heart to fluttering like she was a schoolgirl at a Blake Shelton concert.

“How about we be good neighbors and share?” He flashed her another grin and dived down into the water. When he surfaced, he looked like a Greek god as water sluiced over his broad bare chest and wide shoulders.

Nessa was struck speechless. D. J. had been a short fellow with thinning gray hair and a pudgy, round face. Jackson looked like he should be on the cover of a romance novel, or even in the movies. Nessa would have stood in line for six hours to buy a poster of him if it looked just like him right at that moment.

“Well?” Jackson asked as he waded over toward her.

“Yes, I guess we should share since we’re neighbors.” Her voice sounded hollow in her own ears. “I understand you’re holding our hope chest and the key to unlock it hostage until we get the quilt finished.”