“You look just beautiful to me.” She smiled and went back to work.

We got the dishwasher loaded and running just as the first batch came out of the oven. I grabbed the bowl of dough from the fridge. “Want me to put in a second batch?”

“No, no,” she insisted, shooing me out of the kitchen. “You’ve had a long day. Go watch the movie or curl up with a book and a cup of tea somewhere.”

“Thanks.” But I didn’t really feel like watching a movie or reading a book. After a long day of sitting on planes and then stuffing my face with pizza, I felt like I needed a little exercise. “Actually, I think I might take a walk. Get some fresh air.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Dress warmly.”

“I will.” From the closet in the front hall, I grabbed my winter coat, zipping it all the way up. I tied a scarf around my neck, and tugged on a hat, my snow boots, and mittens. Then I slipped out the front door, pulling it shut behind me.

The air was bracingly cold, but I didn’t mind. I shoved my hands into my pockets and followed the snow-kissed brick path around the back of the house, past the old red barn and the stables, past the new white barn that served as a wedding reception venue, and over toward the winery and vineyard.

Right away I saw the pickup truck in the winery’s parking lot, and I assumed it was Henry’s. I hadn’t brought my phone with me, but I knew it had to be almost ten o’clock. What was he still doing here this late? I recalled what April had said and wondered if he could use a friend.

Moving a little quicker, I followed the path to the winery door. Lights were on inside, but the double doors were locked. I pressed my face to the glass and peered into the tasting room, but I didn’t see anyone, so I knocked a few times. No one answered. I knocked again, a little louder.

Five seconds later, Henry appeared, a confused expression on his face as he crossed the tasting room floor from the direction of the cellar, peering out the window. When he saw me, he hurried to the doors, unlocked them, and pushed one open. “Sylvia?”

“Hi, Henry.”

“Come on in.”

“Thanks. It’s freezing out there.” I moved inside the bright, open space, grateful for the warmth.

Henry shut the door behind me. “I’m sorry if you were waiting outside for long. I was in the cellar and it’s hard to hear from there. I wasn’t expecting anyone.” He ruffled his hair in a boyish gesture that made it messier rather than neater. It was walnut-colored and thick, with just the tiniest hint of gray at the temples. A short layer of scruff covered his jaw.