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to amaze Colt. He pointed out the energy-saving features of the three-bedroom house and explained how they would not only lower the next owner’s fuel bills but also help save the environment. He identified the trim paint as being oil based, not latex, and explained the differences between the two. He took great pleasure in explaining the mechanics of how the garage door opener operated.

After showing Colt the house, he led them outside. “I think you should probably let Shadow off his leash, don’t you, Mr. Colt? That way he can explore the backyard and see if he likes it and if he finds any safety issues that need to be repaired before you would move in.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

Colt watched the boy and dog take off and shook his head. “I wonder who will wear out whom first?”

“My money is on Timmy. He is a ball of fire.” She hesitated a moment, then said, “When Frank Barrington offered me this listing, he asked me to introduce prospective buyers to the next-door neighbors. Frank loves the boy and he wants whoever buys this house to be aware of Timmy’s, well, enthusiasm. The boy has an inquisitive mind, and, being a teacher, Frank has encouraged him to question and learn. He doesn’t want the boy’s spirit or imagination crushed.”

“Sounds like Mr. Barrington is a good teacher.”

“He’s a law professor at Georgetown. Well, he was. He’s taking a new position at Stanford. Do you have any questions about the house?”

“You mean that Tim hasn’t answered?”

She laughed. He asked his questions, and she suggested other places he might want to consider. Colt shook his head. “I like this place. I don’t want to keep the dog in the apartment any longer than necessary. Let me think it over tonight and I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

“Great! I’ll go in and lock up if you and Shadow want to leave by the gate.”

“Sure.” Colt stood, intending to cross the yard to retrieve his retriever, but he took a second to check his email first. Sure enough, Sage had sent another photo. This time the poor dog wore the Easter Bunny costume again, and this time she carried a carrot in her mouth. “I should sic the SPCA on her.”

A smile played on his lips as he approached Timothy Purcell. The boy sat cross-legged on the grass with the puppy in his lap, absently scratching Shadow behind the ears as he frowned up at the tall tulip poplar growing at the back of the yard.

Colt followed the path of his gaze. “What’s the matter? Did you see a critter of some sort?”

“No. I’m confused.”

“What are you confused about?”

“Something we learned in school yesterday.”

“What was that?”

“Photosynthesis.”

“Photosynthesis,” Colt repeated. He looked at Timmy, then at the tree. “Photosynthesis.”

He sat beside the boy, stretched his legs out, and crossed them at the ankles. Leaning back, his weight propped on his elbows, he said, “Let me tell you about photosynthesis.”

Denver

The Patchwork Angels’ inaugural road trip took them to the Denver National Quilt Festival in the later part of April. There LaNelle was truly in her element as she visited with friends from other quilt guilds and used the opportunity for some expert example instruction for the Patchwork Angels. For the better part of the afternoon, Sage steeped herself in the artistry of the textiles, the colors, the textures, the designs. She asked herself why in the world she didn’t exhibit quilts at Vistas and made note of the names of two textile artists she intended to contact in order to correct that oversight.

After the show, they’d enjoyed a lovely dinner at Ali’s house, though they’d been disappointed that her husband, Mac, hadn’t made it home before the dinner party broke up. Despite Sage and her friends’ growing friendship with Ali, they’d never met her husband. Mac’s position as a federal court judge meant his days were filled to overflowing with legal work, charitable work, and after-hours social networking. When he’d called to report another late night on the docket, Ali had tossed her nightshirt and toothbrush in a tote bag and joined the Patchwork Angels at the quilt-themed B&B owned by a friend of LaNelle’s for what turned out to be a grown-up version of a slumber party.

All in all, it had been a fun getaway. Now, though, the time had come to return to reality. The summer season kicked off in a few weeks, and playtime would be over.

“Road trips rock,” Sarah said as she set her

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