THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

buildings, but the shop looked clean and shipshape. Any other day she would have loved to rummage through all of this old stuff. Reclaimed mantels, corbels, and rows of stained glass panels lined one side of the space. On the other side, wooden shelving lined the wall, and bins overflowed with original doorknobs and hardware. Heaven for any picker or renovator.
    A grayish-blonde man with a bushy moustache and Captain Kangaroo bangs wheeled around the corner of a display counter.
    “Good morning,” he boomed. His joyful smile was as genuine as the white of his name tag.
    “Hi. You must be Mr. Huckaby.”
    Kasey extended her hand. Even without the name tag, she would have recognized his energetic voice.
    “Call me Chaz. You made it here quick.” He stepped back and took a good look at her. “How did I not guess? Jake has your eyes and chin.”
    She smiled. People always said that. “Is now a good time?”
    “Absolutely.” He called over his shoulder. “Ben, I’m heading out.”
    In the back of the shop, a man raised his arm over a counter, signaling he’d heard.
    Chaz nodded. “All right.” He jingled his keys in his pocket and held the door open for her. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
    “Okay. Let me grab my camera.”
    Kasey didn’t say a word on the ride, but he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by her silence. He hummed the whole way there. She noticed the hearing aid in his ear and wondered if he realized he was humming out loud.
    They turned off the main road onto another that was heavily treed and winding, paved but narrow, with no painted lines. She could see why Nick would like this area. The land wasn’t hilly, yet rolled just enough to add interest. Huge old trees lined the edge of the road, marking their territory. The terrain was a nice change from the flat land in Tidewater.
    After two miles of passing only trees and a cotton field, Chaz slowed the truck. Ahead, a white clapboard single-story house with a red tin roof sat at the end of a long blacktop driveway.
    “This is it,” she said. Kasey knew. She and Nick had talked about it enough that the picture was clear in her mind. The house was a perfect match.
    “Yes, it is.” Chaz looked pleased as he parked the truck in the driveway. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”
    The porch ran the length of the house. At the far end of the porch, a swing hung from chains —just like at the Rocking R.
    White vinyl fencing outlined the fields for as far as she could see. When she and Nick had repainted all the fencing at the farmhouse last year, she’d told him she wanted vinyl. He’d argued that she was a city girl and there wasn’t anything like good old wood. She smiled at the vinyl. She hadn’t even known she’d won that battle. He had done this for her.
    An old barn stood at the top of the hill in the back.
    “How many acres?” she asked.
    “A little over two hundred, a lot of it trees. Good huntin’ back here.” He opened the glove box and retrieved a keychain.
    She slid out of the truck and walked toward the house, her camera bag on her shoulder. Chaz hung back for a moment, giving her the space to see the dream as Nick had seen it.
    A red tricycle sat abandoned on the front porch. She could picture Jake, pedaling until he was sweaty, racing across the front yard and up and down the smooth asphalt driveway.
    After a bit, Chaz joined her. “Ready to see inside?”
    “Yes.” She smoothed her hands on her pants and stepped toward the door.
    Not only was the house renovated, it was, for the most part, decorated and furnished. It matched every detail they had discussed and a few she knew were all Nick's—like the oversized leather recliner with the remote control balanced on the arm that was not too far from the big television.
    Just like at home.
    Nick was everywhere in this space.
    “It’s exactly how we planned.” She turned to face the large stone fireplace. She knew just what picture belonged over it: the one of Nick and Jake.
    Chaz stood near the door, allowing her to take the time she needed.
    In the master suite, a wall of windows overlooked pastures that backed against the thick tree line. Goats? She walked back out to Chaz.
    “Who has been taking care of the goats?” she asked.
    He laughed. “Oh, they’re no problem. The 4-H club comes out twice a week to check on ’em. Nick has an automatic feed and water system out there. Not much to do most of the time.”
    “Of course he does.” She smiled. “How many are