Tom felt he would need two weeks, with one helper, to complete work on the shop. I agreed to supervise the work while Nancy helped my grandmother out at the makeshift shop at her house. helped my grandmother out at the makeshift shop at her house.

"We have some work to do," she said to the ladies as she exited the shop. Then she told them about Tom's extra charge for the work. "Construction on this place starts tomorrow morning, and then it's a race to see if we finish before Tom. I don't want to give him any excuse for delays."

"I say we keep it simple, maybe small squares in color-wash effect, greens, yellows, pinks, purples… a kind of Monet's garden," said Nancy, immediately sketching out a quilt on the back of an envelope. "If you all work on that, maybe Eleanor and I can applique flowers and vines along the borders."

Everyone had gathered around to see her design, and then just as quickly they dispersed to their cars, ready to get started.

"We should get to Eleanor's and pick the fabrics," said Maggie.

"Natalie," Jesse called out. "Can I speak with you a second?"

Natalie stopped and turned to Jesse. "Sure," she said nervously. "What for?"

"Just a quick question."

"Well, we'll wait," said her mother, Susanne.

"That's not necessary," Jesse said firmly. "I can drop her at Eleanor's."

Susanne took a long look at her daughter, then climbed into her car. Ryan was all but kidnapped by Bernie, who insisted repeatedly that he join her for the ride over. After a few protests, he went along.

Eleanor was taking her time walking toward our car. The hard-nosed businesswoman of a minute before suddenly seemed tired and fragile.

"Just give me a minute, dear," she said. "Maybe this has all been too much for me."

So while Tom took measurements in the shop, Eleanor leaned against the car as if she needed to catch her breath and Barney and I stood by, waiting. I watched as, inches away from me, Jesse moved close to Natalie.

"Where did you go the other night?" Jesse asked.

"Home," she said quickly.

"Not according to your husband. And why didn't you return my calls yesterday?"

"I was busy," she said, even more quickly.

"Try again," Jesse almost snapped, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

"After what happened I went for a walk," Natalie said, her voice quivering. "I could hardly go home. I needed time to… grieve, I guess."

I watched Jesse blink slowly, deliberately. "Where did you walk?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know where you walked? You've lived in this town your entire life."

"So what?"

"It's not much of an alibi, Natalie," he said coldly.

"Do I need an alibi?"

"Yes, I think you do, considering your history with Marc."

Marc, I suddenly realized, was the man with whom Natalie had had the painful affair my grandmother mentioned-not an old boyfriend from before her marriage but an old boyfriend from a time when she, like me, had been vulnerable. And maybe Marc had been taking advantage of her, as Jesse suggested he was about to do with me. My mind was racing and I leaned toward Jesse and Natalie unconsciously, only to pull back when I saw Jesse look over at me.

"I have to go to Eleanor's now," Natalie said stiffly.

"We'll drive you," I found myself saying, not even pretending I wasn't eavesdropping.

"Thanks," said Natalie, and she hopped into the back of the car.

Jesse paused, then stepped toward my grandmother. "Feeling better, Eleanor?" he said without obvious sarcasm but with a tone that suggested he didn't quite believe her need for rest.

"Yes, thanks," she said, and smiled. With a sudden burst of energy she got herself into the car.

Jesse looked at me, his face slightly flushed.

"Are you okay?" I asked, and then felt intrusive.

He nodded. Then he turned and walked back toward the shop without saying anything else.

In the car on the way back to the house, Natalie burst into tears and sobbed, "He hates me."

"Who hates you?" I asked, but Eleanor touched my hand to quiet me.

"Don't let him get to you, dear," she said to Natalie.

"I'm not a perfect person. I admit that," Natalie said. "But I did my best. I really did."

"Of course you did," Eleanor said soothingly. "Jesse is just very sensitive on the subject."

"It was hard on me too," Natalie said through her tears.

"Of course. It was a terrible thing," Eleanor said. "But you can't take it so personally."

Behind me Natalie sniffed and continued crying, while Barney whimpered and tried to comfort her. With nothing else to go on but the obvious tension between Jesse and Natalie, my mind started to go through the possibilities. Did Natalie have some kind of criminal record? Or maybe there was something about her relationship with Marc that was worth killing over. Or, as unlikely as it seemed, had Jesse, Marc and Natalie been involved in a romantic triangle? Whatever the case, it didn't seem like anyone was anxious to fill me in on the details. If I wanted to know, I would have to fill them in for myself.

All the cars were already parked in the driveway when we pulled up, and everyone was waiting by the front door. Except Ryan. Somehow he must have managed to get away from Bernie's grip, but I wondered where he had gone.

"Everything okay back there?" Susanne called out as we pulled up.

"Fine, just fine," said my grandmother.

Natalie jumped out of the car and she and Susanne huddled just a few feet away from the rest of us. I assumed Natalie was filling her mother in on the details of the conversation, but they were just out of listening range.

While the women went to the dining room to choose fabrics, I went back to the kitchen to make coffee. And to look for Ryan. Mostly to look for Ryan. He wasn't in the kitchen. He wasn't upstairs. I was tempted to ask Bernie where he had gone, but I didn't want to seem interested. So I ended my search, went back to the kitchen and made coffee for the others.

"Look at you, Susie homemaker," came a familiar voice.

I turned to see Amanda standing in the doorway.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" I almost knocked over a chair running to hug her.

She hugged me back and we stayed locked like that until another familiar voice broke the spell.

"I don't remember you ever being that glad to see me," he said.

It was Ryan, standing just behind Amanda.

"Did you know Amanda was coming?" I asked.

"No, she just showed up a few minutes ago."

"I took the train up," she said excitedly. "I tried to call you, but I couldn't reach you, so I called Ryan's cell. He picked me up at the train station. I can't believe this house. It's so cool."

"Why did you come?" I said. "Not that I'm not glad to see you."

"You seemed like you needed me," she said as she sat on the kitchen chair. "Is that coffee for anyone?"

"Yeah, sure." I poured a cup, then sat next to her and stared. "I'm so glad you're here."

"I'll bring the coffee in to the ladies," Ryan said. "Don't talk about me while I'm gone."

"You think you're so interesting." Amanda winked at him in that flirtatious way she had with every man, even ones that were taken. Of course Ryan wasn't exactly taken, and getting the story was why, I knew, she had really come to Archers Rest. As soon as Ryan was out of the room, Amanda turned to me and leaned in. "So… tell me everything."

"There isn't anything to tell. Not really. I mean there's a million things, but nothing with Ryan."

"Where did he sleep last night?"

"Upstairs in my room," I said.

"Then there's something to tell," she said.

"I slept with my grandmother and her dog."