I glanced up at the trees, wondering what else was waiting to be discovered, but my attention was diverted by the sky. I moved away from the overhanging branches to see it better. The sunset over the city was a spectacular swath of deep burnt orange streaks and dusty splashes of purple. I stopped to stare at it, and Sophie noticed my rapt expression.

“Arizona has the best sunsets in the world,” she said.

“It makes me want to paint again.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking to her or myself because I was preoccupied with the itch in my fingers, a feeling I hadn’t had in years, that used to mean I was eager to get to a canvas and play with colors.

“Excellent,” Sophie said. “You’re a brilliant artist. It’s past time for you to get back in the game.”

I turned my head and grinned at her. I felt lighter, as if by coming here and starting over, I’d buried my troubles in a snowbank in Boston and left them there.

Miguel unloaded my bags out of the back of the SUV and hauled them up the wide concrete steps to the front entrance of my house. It had thick glass double doors done in a swirled pattern that made them opaque. Gorgeous. They were bookended by two square bronze metal planters that were overflowing with trailing asparagus ferns and spiky lavender stalks. Miguel turned and handed me the keys to the house.

“I’m going up to the main house to let Daire know you’ve arrived,” he said.

“Shouldn’t I come with you?” I asked.

He and Sophie exchanged a look. Then he shook his head. “Nick Daire is a bit reclusive. I’m sure you’ll meet him eventually, but I’d wait for him to take the lead on that.”

He walked down the steps and took a side path that cut through the olive trees and led to the front of the main house. I watched, taking in the very large house that perched behind my baby house like a mama hen hovering over its chick.

I turned to Sophie. “So what’s wrong with him?”

“Miguel? Nothing!”

I frowned. Why would she think I was asking about Miguel?

“No, Mr. Daire,” I said. “What’s wrong with him? Because reclusive seems like code for weird, odd, or possibly pervy.”

She took the keys from my hand and unlocked the glass doors.

“Belly, I am shocked. Shocked that you think I would put you up with a pervert,” she said.

“Just sayin’,” I said. “Spill it. What’s his damage?”