“They must not have gotten the word.” As Molly gazed around, she experienced the oddest sense of familiarity. Since she’d never been anywhere like this, she couldn’t explain it.

Across the road from the center of the Common was a small picnic area with a sandy, crescent-shaped beach directly behind it and, beyond that, a sliver of the blue-gray water of Wind Lake against the backdrop of a tree-lined shore. Several canoes and a few rowboats were overturned near a weathered dock.

She wasn’t surprised that the beach was deserted. Although the early-June morning was sunny, this was a North Woods lake, and the water would still be too chilly for all but the hardiest swimmers.

“Notice the complete absence of anyone under the age of seventy!” Kevin exclaimed as he stepped on the accelerator.

“It’s early. A lot of schools aren’t out yet.”

“It’ll look this way at the end of July. Welcome to my childhood.” He swung away from the Common onto a narrower lane that ran parallel to the lake. She saw more cottages, all of them built in the same Carpenter Gothic style. Presiding over them was a beautiful two-story Queen Anne.

This couldn’t be the dark, musty place he’d described. The house was painted a light cocoa with salmon, maize, and moss green accents decorating the gingerbread trim above the porch, over the gables, and on the porch spindles. A round turret curved on the left of the house, and the broad porch extended around two sides. Petunias bloomed in clay pots by the double front doors, which held matching panels of frosted glass etched with a design of vines and flowers. Ferns spilled over brown wicker stands, and old-fashioned wooden rockers held cheery checked pillows in colors that matched the trim. Once again she had the sense of being plunged into an earlier time.

“I don’t frickin’ believe this!” Kevin vaulted out of the car. “This place was a wreck the last time I saw it.”

“It sure isn’t a wreck now. It’s beautiful.”

She winced as he slammed the door, then got out herself. Roo broke free and headed for the shrubs. Kevin gazed up at the house, his hands planted on his hips.

“When the hell did she turn this into a bed-and-breakfast?”

Just then the front door opened, and a woman who appeared to be in her late sixties emerged. She had faded blond-and-gray hair caught up in a clip with strands escaping here and there. She was tall and big-boned, and her mouth was wide, topped by prominent cheekbones and bright blue eyes. A flour-dusted blue apron protected her khaki slacks and short-sleeved white blouse.

“Kevin!” She hurried down the steps and gave him a vigorous hug. “You sweet boy! I knew you’d come!”

To Molly, Kevin’s hug in return seemed perfunctory.