And she ended up with an entire series of dog shots.

He snoozed by the fireplace-gas logs installed and fabulous for cool, gloomy days-while she worked at her computer. Now and again, he'd go down, hang with the crew or with Molly if she'd come to visit, but he always came back in, gave her a long look as if checking if she'd finished. If she hadn't, he curled up again, usually with something in his mouth.

Sometimes the something was a stray work glove, and once it was a hammer.

Steady, focused work paid off. She received a satisfying check from the gallery in New York, and watched her PayPal account blossom.

People, it seemed, really liked pictures of dogs.

Jenny stopped by, as promised, and took the tour. When they got to the master suite, Jenny sighed.

"I don't know which is more impressive, the view or the bed."

"I like having the view from the bed."

"It must be wonderful, waking up to that every morning. Xander said your uncles shipped the bed all the way across the country."

"They did. And if I don't find some pieces to go in here, they'll start finding them, and shipping them."

"Come shopping with me!" Bouncing on her toes, Jenny slapped her hands together. "Let's go."

"What? Now?"

"It's my day off, kids in school. I've got . . ." She pulled out her phone to check the time. "Five hours before I have to pick up Maddy, then Ty. I know it's a workday for you, but you have to have more furniture, and I know a couple of places-especially if you're not afraid of refinishing or having something refinished-that should have pieces that will really suit that bed."

"I really . . ." She thought of the income she'd just banked, turned the automatic refusal on its ear. "Should do that."

"Yes! Maybe we can find your dishes."

"I ordered them. Wait. I'll show you."

They both studied her computer screen as she brought them up. "They're recycled glass, which appealed, and I went with some white serving pieces for the bump. I think-"

"They're wonderful. Perfect. Oh, they're going to look fabulous in that kitchen. And on the table once you get a table."

"The table can wait awhile. Not planning any dinner parties. But I do need stools. Stools, and a dresser. It'd be nice to put my clothes in drawers rather than cardboard boxes."

"Let's go bag one."

The dog came. Naomi had no intention of taking him, but he followed them out, hopped right in her car, then crawled into the back to sit, tongue hanging out in anticipation.

"He's so sweet. A dog's a good thing to have living out here alone, and a sweet dog's a good thing anywhere. Kevin says he and Molly get along fine. What's his name?"

"He doesn't have one."

"Oh, Naomi, you have to name him."

"His owners could still-"

"How long since you brought him home?"

"We're into week three." Naomi sighed, rubbed the back of her neck. "He's going in for neutering tomorrow. If you're looking for a dog . . ."

"We have one, thanks. We are thinking of a puppy, a friend for Molly. And we want the kids to have the experience. Besides, Naomi. That's your dog."

Naomi looked in the rearview mirror, and the dog unquestionably smiled at her.

"He's just living here for now."

"Sure he is."

Naomi narrowed her eyes, put on her sunglasses. "Which way?"

"Just head toward town, and I'll guide you from there."

She couldn't think of the last time she'd shopped with a friend-or allowed herself a friend. For the most part she didn't go shopping so much as go, hunt up what she needed, buy it, and take it home. Which baffled and disappointed her uncles.

Plus, she could hunt up and buy almost everything she needed online.

But since she was out and about, she'd stop by the hardware and buy the paint for Mason's room-a warm mossy green-on the way back.

And she liked Jenny. She decided it was impossible not to like Jenny, who was cheerful and funny and didn't ask probing questions.

She decided she really liked Jenny when her new friend directed her to a huge barn a few miles inland.

"I should've brought my camera."

But she opened the compartment between the seats and took out a case.

"What's that?"

"Lenses and filters for my camera phone."

"Really? I didn't know there were such things."

"Works well in a pinch. And that barn-the texture of the wood, the true barn red with the white trim, that old apple tree, the light. It's good."

"Don't you want to see what's in the barn?"

"Absolutely. This won't take long."

She intended to leave the dog in the car. He had other ideas, so against her better judgment, Naomi pulled out the spare leash she'd stowed in the glove compartment.

"If you go, you wear this."

He tried to stare her down. Failed.

"I'll hold on to him while you take pictures."

"Thanks. He hates the leash."

"Wouldn't you? It's all right, sweetheart. We'll think of it as you leading me."

Perversely, the dog behaved perfectly for Jenny, walked happily beside her, sniffed his way to an appealing spot to lift his leg while Naomi composed shots, added lenses, adjusted filters.

She'd come back with her equipment, she promised herself. She'd love a gloomy day, that barn under gloomy skies.

She found more shots inside. The place went on forever, packed with everything under sun or gloom.

Glassware, tinware, collectibles, mirrors, chairs, desks.

In fact, she paused in front of one of the desks. She'd decided to go with new for a permanent desk-something that looked right with the bed, but had all the modern touches. Keyboard drawer, plugs, file drawers.

But.

It was nearly black from years-probably decades-of varnish, and the drawers stuck. It needed new hardware. It wasn't at all what she'd decided on.

And it was perfect.

"The shape's terrific," Jenny said beside her. "Just enough curve at the corners. Plenty of drawers. It needs work." Lips pursed, Jenny checked the tag. "And some bargaining."

"It's solid, sturdy. Mahogany. It needs to be stripped down to the original finish. It's not what I was going for. And I really love it."

"Don't say you love it to Cecil-his place. Look doubtful when you ask him about it. You need a good chair-a new one-ergonomic, lumbar support. Kevin says you spend a lot of time at your desk."

"Kevin's right. The computer's the darkroom today. Though I want to put an actual darkroom in. I still get the urge to shoot film sometimes. Is that a mermaid floor lamp?"

"It appears to be."

"A bronze mermaid floor lamp." Struck, she pulled out her phone again. "I need that for my portfolio."

"No-name and I are going to wander."

"I'll catch up."

She fell for the mermaid floor lamp, which she told herself was stupid. She wasn't looking for a floor lamp, much less a bronze mermaid with sly eyes and sleek breasts. But she wanted it.

"Don't tell Cecil," she reminded herself, and tried to find Jenny and the dog in the maze of fascinating things.

Jenny found her. "Don't hate me."

"Does anybody?"

"Kevin's old high school girlfriend."

"Because she's a slut."

Jenny beamed. "I didn't realize you knew Candy."

"Candy? Definitely a slut. A pink-wearing slut."

"Actually, I have a cousin named Candy, and she's not. She's wonderful. But to circle back, don't hate me, but I think I found the dresser."

"Why would I hate you for that?"

"It's expensive, but I really think it's perfect, and maybe we can team up and drive the price down, especially if you get the desk, too."

"And the mermaid lamp."

"Really?" Jenny threw back her head and laughed. "I love it. I figured you'd see it as a novelty, just for photos, but I think it'd be fabulous in your house."

"So do I. Let's see this dresser. If I hate you, you have to walk home."

There were advantages, Naomi discovered, to shopping with a friend-a friend with a sharp, creative, and discerning eye. It was more gentleman's chest than dresser-which really hit a note for her. Not female and fussy, but gorgeous and dignified without the stuffiness. In good condition, which surprised her, the finish glowing with that lovely reddish gold undertone. She'd change the hardware-get rid of the ornate brass handles-and one of the drawer bottoms had a long diagonal crack, but that was it.

The price made her hiss and shudder.

"We're going to talk him down. You wait and see." Jenny gave Naomi a bolstering pat.

Cecil might have been a scrawny man in bib overalls, a straw hat, with a grizzled beard-and he wouldn't see eighty again-but he had a gimlet eye and a hard line.

But so, Naomi discovered, did the sweet and cheerful Jenny.

She poked her oar in a time or two, just to say she did, but it was primarily Jenny who did the bargaining and, with tenacity and guile, shaved a full twenty percent off the dresser where Naomi had hoped for ten.

The three of them managed to load the dresser in the 4Runner-Cecil was old, but he proved ox-strong.

"Kevin's going to pick up the other pieces," Jenny told Cecil.

"He is?" Naomi wondered.

"Sure. He'll get them after work or in the morning. And remember, Cecil, Naomi has that big house to furnish so we'll be back. And expect good prices."

The dog sprawled out content enough beside the dresser, and Jenny settled in the passenger seat.

"That was fun."

"I'm dazzled by your Arabian marketplace skills. Thank you, really. I can come back and get the other pieces. Kevin doesn't have to come all the way out here."

"It's fine. Plus, if you hire me to refinish that desk, he'll just bring that home to my little workshop."

"You have a workshop?"

"I refinish and reimagine furniture and decorative pieces on the side. I didn't want to say anything, make you feel obligated or awkward. But boy, I want to do that desk. I'm good, I promise. I'll make it gorgeous."

"I bet you will." And she could cross off the hours it would take her to do it. "You're hired."

"Really? Yay! If you came over for dinner Sunday-Kevin said not to bother you, but I've been dying to have you to dinner-you could see the workshop. I've got a bench I'm working on that's perfect for the deck outside your bedroom. An old wire garden bench with a big, curved back. And you can bring the dog. The kids would love him."