Colette stepped a few paces back, nearly to the edge of the bluff, and admired her house. True, it was still just a tiny cabin, at best. But Gannon had finished his repairs and renovations, and in such a short time, too—it had only been a week since her arrival. And that was with him working only in the mornings, as he spent the afternoons at his shop. He had worked very hard, and she was impressed.

She'd worked hard, too, of course. Gannon had done all the essential repairs, plus he'd put up a few interior walls to frame in a tiny bathroom and a storage closet and installed plumbing, electricity, and even gas lines for propane fuel for cooking and heat. But she'd done all the cleaning—there had been a truly prodigious amount of cleaning to do—as well as all the painting and refinishing. She'd painted the interior a creamy white with cheerful red doors, and she'd sanded the old oak floors until they were smooth before staining the planks a rich walnut brown. She just needed new fixtures and appliances—Gannon hadn't been able to salvage the old cookstove after all—and then she would be ready to move in.

While she'd been busy with cleaning and painting, Gannon had moved on to her outbuildings. He'd repaired the barn and coop, and handy as he was, he'd even fixed her windmill so it no longer creaked and squawked all day and night.

"I'm sure I'll be wanting some more repairs later on, and eventually an addition to the house and some more outbuildings. You've done a fantastic job, even better than I'd hoped. Thank you, Gannon, I appreciate it," she said as she paid him the final installment for his work.

He grunted as he flicked through the bills—why, she wasn't sure, as she knew he couldn't possibly be counting them that fast. "Jus' lemme know whatcher want and when, lady, and I'll fix yer up." Then he turned and lumbered away across the bridge, his heavy footsteps causing the bridge to creak and groan beneath him.

The next day she arrived at the ferry dock bright and early, just as the ferry hove into view through the morning mist. As she waited to board, Vaughn stepped out onto the gangplank and strode down the dock and onto shore, walking right past her. She would have just ignored him, but he spotted her standing there and tipped his hat solemnly to her. He started to go on by without a word, but then seemed to spot a familiar face somewhere else among small queue of people, mainly weekend visitors returning to the mainland after their short holiday. She glanced back without turning her head and saw a pretty young woman talking to him with great animation. Snorting derisively, she turned her gaze forward again to watch for the signal to board, wondering what on earth that girl found so fascinating in the dour animal dealer. Not that she cared.

She spent the day on the mainland, shopping for furniture, housewares, appliances—everything she needed to set up housekeeping. When she had left her previous home, she took very little with her—mostly just her clothing and a one or two mementos. She'd instructed her lawyers to sell her trendy loft fully furnished, or just donate the furnishings to some charity if the buyers didn't want it. She didn't care what became of it all, honestly. She just wanted to put it all behind her.

Shipping her purchases to the islands was a tricky proposition, she soon discovered. Finally she found a delivery company willing to pick up her new furnishings and appliances from the different stores, transport everything to the ferry to the islands, then unload everything at the shore on Sprout Island. Then it would be up to her to get it from there to her ranch, since they didn't do installations or set ups. That was the interpretation of "curbside delivery" that they went with for someplace as remote as her new home, so she didn't have much choice.

Returning on the evening ferry, she pondered her options for getting everything from the shore by the dock over to her cabin. She could handle some of it herself, but much of it was too heavy for her to move by herself. And of course there was always the possibility of rain to consider. She needed a few strong men willing to help, or at least one or two plus a truck. But as far as she knew, no one there had even a horse and wagon, let alone a motor vehicle.

As soon as the ferry docked, she tore down the gangplank and to Mirabelle's shop. It was closed, but they were at home, sitting and chatting as they lingered over an after-dinner cup of coffee.

"Sorry to interrupt," Colette gasped. "I need some help, but I don't know who to ask!"

Half rising from her seat, Mirabelle exclaimed, "Why, Colette dear, whatever is the matter?"

Colette shook her head. "Everything's fine, sorry. I just need some help first thing in the morning moving some big, heavy things from the ferry dock to my ranch. But I'm still so new here, I don't know who would be willing or able to help! I don't suppose anyone has a truck or even a horse, do they? I've not seen any vehicles so far."

Julia shook her head. "No, we don't have anything like that. Taro keeps a cart pony for hauling his bins to and from the ferry, but no wagon. Gannon would be obvious, but I don't know if he'd be willing. It probably depends on if he has a construction job or not."

"I'm afraid he does—Chen mentioned earlier that he was coming out in the morning to make some repairs around his shop and house, preparing for the next storm season" Mirabelle said, shaking her head.

"Well, then who else around here is strong and helpful?" Colette asked, looking between the two women.

"Oh, my dear, please excuse my manners! Here, have a seat, and I'll get you a cup of coffee," Mirabelle exclaimed, bustling over to the coffeepot.

"Thanks, Belle," Colette replied gratefully, taking a seat and sipping the steaming drink set before her.

"Anyway," Julia continued, "the next strongest man I can think of would be Vaughn."

Colette nearly choked on her coffee. "Vaughn? No way. I can't ask him, and besides, he'd never agree to help me."

"Why not? I know he's a little, ahem, rough around the edges, but he really does have a heart of gold deep down," Mirabelle assured her.

"We... didn't exactly hit it off," Colette explained. "He certainly seems nice enough—to pretty girls. But otherwise...." Both women looked at her curiously, so she explained. "I saw him this morning while I was waiting to board the ferry. He was quite cool to me, but then a moment later he started chatting with a rather pretty girl a little ways behind me in the queue. He was quite friendly to her, and she seemed pleased to see him, too."

"Pretty girl...." Mirabelle mused. Then her face lit up. "Oh! Tall girl? Light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail? Freckles?"

"Umm, I think so?" Colette agreed tentatively.

"That was almost certainly Frieda," Mirabelle said, turning to Julia, and both women laughed.

"What... what's so funny?"

"Well, my dear Colette, it just that Vaughn doesn't care about how attractive someone is—he likes people who are good with animals! Frieda is a longtime customer of his. She and her mother run a small craft dairy, specializing in unusual handcrafted cheeses. They buy all their livestock from him, and he knows that they're very good to their animals. He respects them for that, so he makes a point of being friendly to them in order to show it. She just happened to have come here for the weekend, just a little mini-vacation."

"Oh," she replied, flushing in embarrassment at her mistaken conclusion. "Well, regardless, we still didn't hit it off, and I'm certain that even if I was willing to ask for help, he wouldn't care to oblige."

"Who wouldn't?" a familiar gruff voice said from the doorway.

Colette jumped, sloshing her coffee onto the table. As they wiped up the mess, Julia replied. "Colette needs someone big and strong to help her in the morning, and for some reason, she's reluctant to ask you because she's sure you'd say no," she said, grinning mischievously at Colette, who turned several shades of red, pink, and purple.

"Well..." he drawled, turning to look appraisingly at Colette. "I might be willing to lend a hand, if she was to ask me reeaaal nice."

"Vaughn!" Mirabelle scolded, but Colette jumped to her feet, her eyes snapping angrily.

"Forget it," she fumed, pushing past Vaughn. "I'll move it all myself, even if it takes me all goddessdamn day!"

The next morning, when Colette peeked out of the window of her hotel room, she groaned. It was overcast on the horizon—and she had all that furniture due any time now. At least everything should be in boxes or wrapped in plastic for shipping, she thought with a sigh as she threw on some shorts and a tank top—it might rain later, but it was still warm out, and she expected to get a whole lot warmer before the day was done, rainy or not.

She was ready and waiting when the ferry docked. First the few passengers disembarked, then the movers began to unload her things. There were four of them working in pairs, and they moved quickly. Before she knew it, there was a large pile of furnishings on the grass just above the sandy shoreline, and the team leader was handing her a clipboard with the bill of receipt to examine and approve. She signed it off and tipped them, then they hurried to board the ferry before it departed, leaving her wondering where to start.

She decided to start with some of the smaller items, so she picked up as much as she could carry and hauled it all the way through the town and up to her house. She dropped it off inside, panting a little from the exertion, and hurried back to get another load, stopping to grab her wheelbarrow this time. After about five trips back and forth, she was down to the largest items: a sofa, twin mattress, dresser, and appliances

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed hold of one end of her sofa and started to drag it along as best she could, thanking her lucky stars that she'd decided to just get a small loveseat for now, rather than some monstrosity. Still, she thought with a groan, there was the refrigerator....

Suddenly the sofa became lighter, and she looked up, startled. Holding up the opposite end was Vaughn, and she nearly dropped her end in surprise.

"Whoa, now. Careful!" he exclaimed, struggling to keep hold of the plastic encasing it.

"But what...?"

"Look, I'm real sorry for bein' a jackass last night," he said, looking straight at her. "You're new around here, and you needed help. I shouldn't have acted like that. I've been watching you carting your stuff back and forth, and, well... truth be told, each time you passed by, I felt like a bigger and bigger jerk. So here I am."

Colette raised an eyebrow. "I can manage on my own," she began, but he interrupted.

"Not suggesting you can't. But it'll get done faster with help—and it's going to start raining in earnest real soon."

She quickly looked up at the sky, saw the truth of his prediction in black clouds steadily creeping on them, felt the first large drop hit her cheek, and nodded. "All right, then. Thanks."

They got everything in just in time—there was a brilliant flash quickly followed by a loud crack of thunder, and then a sheet of rain hit the cabin just as they finally shoved her new fridge through the door. It was still very warm despite the heavy rainfall, and she could see steam rising from both of them as they half fell to the floor, exhausted.

"Look, I don't have anything to offer you in the way of cold drinks or whatever," she said after a moment. "But I'll buy you dinner tonight. It's the least I can do to thank you for your help."

He scrambled to his feet, straightened his hat, and looked down at her unsmilingly. "No need. It's what folks around here do. Just be sure you do the same whenever you see someone else in need of help."

Then without another word, he left, vanishing into the obscurity of the pouring rain.