"Exactly."

They smiled at each other and continued bantering back and forth all through dinner. When the dancing started Roger led his bride onto the dance floor and whirled her around the room.

"Did Roger take dancing cla.s.ses?" Steve asked. He stood behind Abby at the edge of the dance floor, his hands cupping her shoulders.

"My lips are sealed," Abby joked.

"He must have," Steve countered. "I certainly don't remember him being this light on his feet."

"So you've danced with my brother?" Abby teased.

Steve laughed outright. "Not lately, but I know I would enjoy dancing with his sister."

Abby instantly tensed. "Oh, Steve, I don't know if I'm up to the challenge; it's been a very long time since I've been on a dance floor." She didn't dare admit how long. To the best of her memory it'd been her first year of college.

"You should be more worried about me stomping all over your feet," he chided.

Then, without asking, as soon as the dance floor opened up, Steve led her onto the polished surface. Abby thought about protesting, but this was such a magical time and she wasn't about to do or say anything that would burst her bubble of happiness. The guilt, burden, and shame had been lifted from her shoulders and she was finally free.

With Steve's arms around her, she closed her eyes and let her body move naturally to the beat of the music, instinctively following his cues as he led, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.

"You're good," he whispered close to her ear.

"Thank you."

"Abby, Abby."

She opened her eyes to find her mother and father close by. "You two look really good together," her mother trilled.

"Thanks, Mom," Abby said, smiling over at her parents.

As soon as they were out of hearing range, Abby looked up at Steve. "You'll have to forgive my mother. She couldn't be more obvious, could she?"

"Obvious?"

"Oh come on, Steve, she's all but spelling it out. She wants to pair me off and the sooner the better."

"Oh? Apparently she's been talking to my mother."

"Is she here?"

"No, thank heavens. The last thing we need is for the two of them to start scheming." He smiled down on her and then added, "I don't need any help, how about you?"

"No thanks."

"Good."

They continued dancing and were interrupted by Roger and Victoria, the bride and groom. "Hey, bro, can we trade partners for a couple of minutes?" Roger asked.

"I'm not even his wife twenty-four hours and he's already handing me off to someone else," Victoria joked. She kissed Roger's cheek and then swiftly made the transition into Steve's arms as the music continued.

Her brother held her loosely and Abby told him what was in her heart. "Oh Roger, the wedding was just perfect."

"You have Victoria and her mother to thank for that. They've been working on all the details for months. I was simply the yes-man. I gave the two of them free rein and they handled whatever needed to be done."

"Well, they did an amazing job."

"I married an incredible woman."

"So you did," Abby agreed.

"How's it going with you and Steve?" her brother asked, not bothering to hide his interest.

"Really well."

"You know you broke his heart," Roger told her.

"Oh stop."

"Steve was smitten, big time."

That was nice to hear. "Why isn't he married?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. They only had a few minutes and she intended to make the most of them.

"He would like to be. First off he got involved in a big computer contract with the army that sent him to Afghanistan, and then he was working long hours when he came back to the States. If you ask me, he's looking, but Steve is picky."

"Picky?" This didn't sound promising.

"He isn't willing to settle for second best, which is one reason he's waited. That's something the two of us have in common. We have high standards."

Abby's gaze followed her brother's as he sought out his wife. His eyes warmed with love and in that moment Abby understood what he meant. Her brother had been willing to wait, but when he met Victoria, he didn't hesitate.

"Be happy, Roger," she whispered.

"I have every intention of doing exactly that."

"And hurry up and give Mom and Dad grandchildren, won't you?" she muttered.

"I'll do my best," he teased.

They switched partners a couple of minutes later.

Steve stayed by Abby's side for the remainder of the evening, dancing, helping her dish out the cake. While her intention had been to leave early, it didn't happen. It was after eleven before she decided she had better make her excuses. By that time Roger and Victoria had left and the dancing had dwindled down to only a few couples. Abby's parents lingered with the last of the guests.

Abby hugged her mother and father. "I won't see you again this visit," she said.

"Are you sure you're all right to drive?" her mother worried.

"I'm fine, Mom," Abby a.s.sured her. It was a normal question but one that, until recently, would have brought back painful memories. Her mother was oblivious to the possible subtext though, which meant she'd put the past behind her.

"I'll follow her," Steve offered, "just to make sure."

"Oh thank you, Steve. You always were a gentleman." Abby's mother leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

At first Abby wanted to object that she didn't need an escort to the inn, but she quickly realized it would give her and Steve an opportunity to be alone before they parted.

Sure enough, Steve followed her to Rose Harbor Inn. She parked, turned off the engine, and climbed out of the car. Steve did, too, and he walked her up to the porch.

"I better say good night," he said.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," Abby told him sincerely. She didn't want to gush, but that was the way she felt on the inside. "I meant to leave hours ago ... I have an early-morning flight out."

Steve took a step back from her. "I do, too. Is it possible we're on the same flight?"

"I'm flying into West Palm Beach."

His eyes brightened. "Me, too."

"My flight leaves from Seattle at eight-thirty a.m."

"Mine too," he confirmed.

"We're on the same flight!"

His smile broadened. "So it seems."

"Fate," she said.

Steve shook his head. "I prefer to think of it as divine intervention." And with that he lowered his mouth to hers.

Abby slipped her arms around his neck and opened herself to his kiss. Perhaps it was the effect of Roger's wedding. Or even the night itself-cold, clear, and crisp. Whatever it was, Abby felt as if the whole world had opened up to her with a wealth of emotion and happiness.

When they broke apart, Steve's gaze held hers for the longest moment. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow," she echoed.

Steve checked his watch. "In seven hours. I'll meet you at the airport by the gate."

"I'll be there." Seven hours until she'd see him again, Abby mused. It couldn't come soon enough to suit her.

Chapter 35.

Josh waited for Mich.e.l.le at the funeral home. He sat in a chair in the foyer and did his best to keep his mind focused on the future and not his stepfather. He was pleased the two of them had made peace; it was more than he'd hoped would come of this visit.

He wanted to find a way to thank Mich.e.l.le. She'd been a G.o.dsend and he was grateful. He planned to ask her to dinner, though he wasn't in the mood to eat and he suspected she wasn't either. Dinner would seem like a celebration.

The door opened and Mich.e.l.le appeared. She paused just inside the doorway before catching sight of him.

Josh stood. "Thank you for coming."

"No problem. Have you met with the funeral director yet?"

"No. I was waiting for you."

She offered him a half smile of appreciation. "I phoned my parents to let them know about Richard's death. They asked me to give you their condolences."

He nodded.

George Thompson, the funeral director, joined them and after offering his sympathies, he directed them into his office.

Mich.e.l.le and Josh followed the older man down the hallway and into a private room.

Mr. Thompson gestured to two chairs on the opposite side of his large mahogany desk and then settled down into his own seat. He maintained a demure facade as he reached for a file, which he opened.

"As you know," he said, looking up, "Mr. Lambert has already made his own funeral arrangements."

Josh nodded.

"He asked to be buried next to his wife, Teresa. He purchased the grave site adjacent to hers at the time of her death."

Josh hadn't been aware of that. When his mother died he'd been too caught up in his loss to pay attention to much of anything.

Mich.e.l.le and Mr. Thompson were looking at him as though they were awaiting his response. "Okay," Josh said, unsure what was required of him.

"He was quite adamant that there were to be no services."

"So he said," Josh replied. Richard had been "quite adamant" when it came to most everything.

"Would you like to attend the burial?" Mr. Thompson asked next. "It will be very simple with no formal ceremony."

"No," Josh replied.

"I would," Mich.e.l.le responded.

"Fine. I'll let you know the time." He made a notation in the file. Straightening, he sat back in his chair. "A couple of minor details. First off, we'll need the clothes you would like Mr. Lambert to be buried in."

Josh looked to Mich.e.l.le for a.s.sistance.

"I can get those to you," she offered.

"It would be best to bring them tomorrow," Mr. Thompson told her. "We're about to close the office."