And she could come back to Ireland. A couple of weeks every summer. She could come back, visit her friends, rejuvenate her spirit.

See Aidan.

No, it was best not to think about that, she warned herself. To think of next summer or the summer after and Aidan. This time, this- window she'd opened was magic, and it needed to be cherished for what it was. All the more precious, she told herself, because it was temporary.

They would both move on. It was inevitable.

Or he would move on, and she would go back. But she had the pleasure of knowing she'd never go back to just how things had been. She wasn't the same person anymore. She knew she could build a life now. Even if it wasn't one of her fantasies, it could be satisfying and productive.

She could be happy, she thought. She could be fulfilled. The last three months had shown her she had potential. She could, would, finish what she'd started.

She was mentally patting herself on the back when Finn barked joyfully and dashed to the garden gate right through her pansies.

"Good day to you, Jude." Mollie O'Toole let herself in, and Finn out so that he could leap on Betty. The two dogs dashed happily toward the hills. "I thought I'd stop by and see if I could do anything for you."

"Since I don't know what I'm doing, your guess is as good as mine." She glanced down at her basket and sighed. "I've already cut too many flowers."

"You can never have too many."

Mollie, Jude thought with grat.i.tude and admiration, always said just the right thing. "I'm so glad you're here."

Mollie waved that off even as her cheek pinkened with pleasure. "Well, isn't that nice of you to say?"

"I mean it. I always feel calmer around you, like nothing can go too terribly wrong when you're nearby."

"Well, I'm flattered. Is there something you're afraid's gone terribly wrong?"

"Only everything." But Jude smiled as she said it.

"Would you like to come inside while I put them in water? Then you can point out the six dozen things I've forgotten to do."

"I'm sure you've forgotten nothing at all, but I'd love to come in and help you with the flowers."

"I thought I'd scatter them through the house in different bottles and bowls. Maude didn't have a proper vase."

"She liked to do the same. Put little bits of them everywhere. You're more like her than you realize."

"I am?" Odd, Jude thought, how the idea of being like a woman she'd never met pleased her.

"Indeed. You pamper your flowers, and take long walks, nest down in your little house here, and keep the door open for company. You've her hands," she added. "As I told you before, and something of her heart as well."

"She lived alone." Jude glanced around the tidy little house. "Always."

"It was what suited her. But alone she wasn't lonely. There was no man she loved after her Johnny, or as Maude used to say, there was no man she loved in this life once he was gone. Ah." Mollie took a sniff of the air as they went inside. "You've a ham in the oven. It smells lovely."

"Does it?" Jude sniffed experimentally as they started toward the kitchen. "I guess it does. Would you take a look at it, Mollie? I've never made one and I'm nervous."

"Sure, I'll take a peek."

She opened the oven, did her inspection while Jude set down her basket and stood gnawing her lip.

"It's fine. Nearly done, too," she p.r.o.nounced after a quick check to see how easily the skin tugged free. "From the smell of it, you won't have a sc.r.a.p left for your lunch tomorrow. My Mick's fond of baked ham, and will likely make more of a pig of himself than where this one came from."

"Really?"

With a shake of her head, Molly closed the oven. "Jude, never have I known a woman who's always so surprised at a compliment."

"I'm neurotic." But she said it with a smile rather than an apology.

"Well, you'd know, I suppose. You've shined this cottage up like a penny, too, haven't you now? And left not a thing for a neighbor to do but give you a bit of advice."

"I'll take it."

"When you finish with your flowers and take your ham out to cool, put it up high enough that your pup can't climb up and sample it. I've had that experience, and it's not a pretty one."

"Good point."

"After that, go on up and give yourself the pleasure of a long, hot bath. Put bubbles in it. The solstice is a fine time for a ceili, and it's a finer time for romance."

In a maternal gesture, Molly patted Jude's cheek. "Put a pretty dress on for tonight and dance with Aidan in the moonlight. The rest, I promise you, will take care of itself."

"I don't even know how many people are coming."

"What difference does it make? Ten or a hundred and ten?"

"A hundred and ten?" Jude choked out and went pale.

"Every one of them is coming to enjoy themselves." Mollie got down a bottle. "And that's what they'll do. A ceili's just hospitality, after all. The Irish know how to give it and how to take it."

"What if there isn't enough food?"

"Oh, that's the least of your worries."

"What if-"

"What if a frog jumps over the moon and lands on your shoulder." With amused exasperation, Mollie lifted her hands. "You've made your home pretty and welcoming. Do the same with yourself, and the rest, as I told you, will take care of itself."

It was good advice, Jude decided. Even if she didn't believe a word of it. Since a bubble bath was a fail-safe method of relaxation, she took one in her beloved claw-foot tub, indulging herself until her skin was pink and glowing, her eyes drooping, and the water going cold.

Then she opened the cream she'd bought in Dublin and slathered herself in it. It never failed to make her feel female.

Totally relaxed, she toyed with the idea of a short preparty nap. Then walked into the bedroom and shrieked.

"Finn! Oh, G.o.d!"

He was in the middle of her bed, waging a fierce and violent war with her pillows. Feathers flew everywhere. He turned to her, tail thumping triumphantly as he held the vanquished pillow in his teeth.

"That's bad. Bad dog!" She waved feathers away and rushed to the bed. Sensing fun, he leaped down, tearing off with the pillow. Feathers leaked out and left a downy trail in his wake.