"What was that about?" I asked quickly.

"Nothing. He just had some questions about the fight that guy Marc and I got into."

"Like what?"

"Nothing important. He's just hammering out the details."

"And you told him the truth, right?"

A flash of anger crossed Ryan's face. "What else would I have told him?"

We walked away from the store with no particular direction in mind. At first we tried to walk together, with Ryan between Amanda and me, but something kept getting in the way-a tree or a light post. One person would get out of step and awkwardly try to keep up. So we alternated pairs. For a while Amanda and I walked next to each other with Ryan slightly ahead, then Ryan and I walked side by side, then Ryan and Amanda.

"Where do you want to go," I asked, "to the house or back to the bar?"

"I guess I should head back to New York," Amanda said quietly. "I wish I could stay longer, but we can't all abandon the office." She stopped. "When are you guys coming back, by the way?"

"I'm not sure. A few days, maybe. When things are settled here," Ryan said. "I just wouldn't feel good leaving right now."

"And you?" Amanda turned toward me.

"Me? Maybe when my grandmother's feeling better," I shrugged. "I haven't exactly decided what I'm going to do next."

"What does that mean?" Ryan narrowed his eyes at me. "You can't stay here forever. You have to go back to New York. You have to go back to your life."

I didn't want to be told what my future should be, so I ignored him and turned toward the train station. Amanda and Ryan stayed several steps behind the rest of the way. We walked up the steps to the platform and sat on a bench to wait for the train. Ryan was quiet and I wasn't feeling very chatty either, so Amanda filled the silence with office gossip.

It had only been a week since I left and yet all of these people had faded from my mind. I no longer cared about the crazy last-minute demands of my boss, or the ongoing affair between the office manager and the vice president of sales. I didn't even care when she told me that our favorite Chinese takeout place had stopped the five-dollar lunch special that sustained us. A couple of weeks ago news like that would have required a long phone call with Amanda and strategic planning to find a replacement. And I would have enjoyed every minute of it. Now it just felt trivial. As Amanda talked, I realized I liked being here in Archers Rest. And it didn't feel like I was running away from my life. It felt a little like I was building a life here.

When the train came, I hugged Amanda a long time and promised to call and let her know how the "cute sheriff" was doing with Marc's murder.

"I'm going to miss you," I said and hugged her.

"I'll visit really soon," Amanda said. "You'll get sick of me."

"Never," I said. "I miss you already."

After the train pulled out of the station, Ryan and I silently walked back to Eleanor's. But it didn't feel as strange between us as it had the last couple of days. Amanda's presence had made Ryan feel more familiar to me, and somehow reminded me that the change in our relationship hadn't killed me. And by the way Ryan looked at me as we walked along the river, it also seemed that he respected me more, even liked me more, because I wasn't so desperate for his approval. Maybe I was imagining it, but it felt good.

As we walked up the driveway, we saw there were cars parked by the house.

"The quilt shop is open for business, I see," I said.

"Guess so." Ryan stopped. "Do you mind if we don't go in right now? It's not my scene."

"Do you think it's mine?"

"I don't know." He smiled. "I wouldn't have thought so, but you're different up here. And you're pretty artistic. Remember those paintings you used to do when we met? They were cool."

"You liked those? You never told me that."

He blushed. "That's because I'm an idiot."

"I'm aware of that." I smiled.

He grabbed my hand and held it. It felt safe, and I found myself letting go a little of my hurt and just enjoying the moment. "Let's not go inside yet," he said.

We went around the house and headed for the river. Trees were dropping their red and orange leaves into the water, and they drifted downstream slowly as sunlight bounced on the river. We walked as close to the edge as we could and sat on a small patch of grass to watch. Ryan absentmindedly played with some small stones, then began tossing them into the river.

"See that leaf?" he asked, pointing toward a mass of leaves in the water.

"The reddish orange one, or the greenish brown one?"

"The red one, in the center." Then he tossed a stone that hit the red leaf and sent it plummeting into the depths of the water. Ryan looked over at me with a goofy grin. "That was good, huh. Did you see how I nailed that leaf?"

"It was great." I smiled. He threw a few more and each time looked back at me for approval. I knew he was trying to impress me. Sure, it wasn't flowers or plane tickets to Paris, but it was something. I put my head on his shoulder.

"If I start saying I'm sorry now, how long will it take until you forgive me?" Ryan said quietly.

"Fifty years."

"Just in time for our golden anniversary."

I had to stop and rewind the moment in my head. He had just said golden anniversary, as in wedding anniversary, as in wedding, hadn't he? I didn't know what to say.

"Nell?"

"I thought you needed time."

"I did. But I don't need it anymore. Maybe with everything that's happened, with your coming up here, then that guy dying… I don't know. It made me think how I could lose you so easily."

"A lot has changed," I reminded him.

"Not us. We haven't changed." He leaned over so his eyes met mine. "It's only been a couple of weeks. Can you really say you don't want to marry me?"

I looked away from him and stared at the water. "No," I finally said. "I can't say I don't want to get married. I just can't say…"

"Then don't say anything."

Ryan leaned over and rested his head on my lap. I stroked his head and watched the water. I had just gotten used to the idea that we wouldn't get our happy ending. A little part of me was even beginning to enjoy the open, unplanned landscape of my future. And now things had spun 180 degrees again. So how did it feel to be here? I asked myself.

I looked down at Ryan and decided. It felt good.

The sun was beginning to go down and as it faded, the wind picked up. Romantic as it was to sit together and stare at the river, it wasn't worth pneumonia. We headed back to the house, holding hands.

"So when should we get married now?" he asked.

"Ryan," I started, but he looked so happy that I just smiled and kept walking.

"Did you cancel the reception hall and everything?"

"No," I admitted. "I kept planning to, but I just couldn't do it."

Ryan smiled. "Then everything is exactly the way it was. This was just a bump in the road." He leaned down and kissed me, as if everything was now right with the world.

I smiled back at Ryan. "We don't have to talk about any of this with my grandmother."

"She'll be thrilled," he said. "I know it."

I reached out to open the front door to the house just as Carrie came out with a small box overloaded with fabric.

"My assignment," she said, nodding to the box. "We all have to make blocks for the quilt by Friday. I don't know how I'm going to get it all done."

"I'm sure someone will help if you get behind," I said, to be helpful.

"They'll have to," she laughed. "Do you know your grandmother has been wondering what happened to you?"

"We went for a walk," Ryan volunteered.