Rainbow's End. Irene Hannon

him the answer to all of those questions is yes. Now let’s talk logistics.” As they worked out the details, Jill realized that she was as excited about the annual visit as her sister and nephew were. Much as she loved her life on her little corner of Orcas Island, it did get lonely on occasion. More so at some times than others.

      Turning toward the porch again, her gaze once more sought Keith. He was standing with his back to her now as he looked toward Mount Constitution. In a few minutes, he would be gone, as she’d told Deb. And even though she knew nothing about him, even though his visit had been brief, she had the oddest feeling that his departure would initiate one of those “more so” times.

      Only snatches of conversation drifted through the open screen door to Keith. But he heard enough to realize that Jill was discussing plans with a woman named Deb for a visit. And that pleased him. It meant there was someone who cared about her and gave her an occasional reprieve from her solitary existence.

      He drew in a long, cleansing breath of the fresh morning air, enjoying the warmth of the sun against his face. To his surprise, the sense of peace he’d awakened with was still with him. He’d expected it to dissipate along with the wisps of mist that had hung over the field earlier in the morning as he’d trekked across. The feeling was so welcome, so calming, that he was loath to drive away and risk leaving it behind. But he had no excuse to stay. The woman in Eastsound had told him that Jill didn’t lease her cottage. Besides, he didn’t have enough money to pay rent for very long, anyway.

      Yet, he wanted to stay. For a few days, at least. Long enough, perhaps, for the peace to soothe his soul and give him a chance to figure out where he was going to go from here. His finances could handle a short extension of his visit. The trick would be convincing his reluctant landlady to prolong her hospitality.

      When Jill reappeared, Keith’s mug was almost empty. “Sorry for the interruption. Would you like some more coffee?” she offered, keeping her distance.

      “No, thanks. The breakfast was great. I haven’t had a meal like that in ages.”

      She acknowledged the compliment with a slight tip of her head. “Thank you for fixing the siding.”

      “It was the least I could do after you took pity on me in the storm. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.”

      “The holiday weekend is always crowded here. I doubt there’s a vacancy anywhere on the island.”

      She’d given him the perfect opening. His grip on the mug tightened and the muscles in his shoulders tensed even as he tried to keep his tone casual. “I found that out the hard way. The truth is, I’d hoped to spend a few days here, but every place will be booked at least for a couple more days. The woman in Eastsound told me you don’t rent out the cottage as a rule, but is there any way I could convince you to let me stay a bit longer? Not free, of course.”

      His request surprised her. And at some elemental level, it also pleased her. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because her less-than-welcoming manner and damaged face hadn’t scared him off. Of course, she was silly to read anything personal into his request. It was based on practicalities, after all. She had a cabin; he needed a place to stay; everywhere else was booked. It was as simple and straightforward as that.

      Her spirits deflated a bit. She must be more starved for human companionship than she’d realized. If that was the case, she needed to figure out how to deal with it. Because she didn’t anticipate any changes to her solitary existence anytime soon. Even if this man extended his stay, he’d be gone in a few days. But Deb and Dominic would follow in a couple of weeks, she reminded herself. She should be counting her blessings for having such a loving, supportive family instead of griping about the life she’d chosen for herself.

      In the meantime, this man needed a place to stay and she was in a position to provide it. There was no logical reason to refuse his request.

      “You can use the cottage for a few days. It’s sitting there empty, anyway.” She started to gather up the condiments from the table.

      “Just let me know what you think is a fair price.”

      “There’s no charge. You’re not getting any great bargain out there. It’s pretty bare bones.”

      “It’s far better than camping, which is what I do most of the time. I wouldn’t feel right about staying if you won’t let me pay.”

      Straightening, she sent him a sideways look. “I don’t need the money, Mr. Michaels.”

      “Keith. And that’s beside the point. I prefer to pay my way.”

      From the stubborn set of his jaw beneath the stubble and the resolve in his eyes, Jill could see that her unexpected guest wasn’t about to budge on this issue. Shrugging, she resumed her work. “Fine. Let me think for a minute.” Silence ensued as she gathered up the tablecloth, and when she finally threw out a number, Keith frowned.

      “You can’t even get a cheap motel for that rate,” he protested.

      The barest hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “I think there’s something wrong with this picture. Isn’t the buyer supposed to try and negotiate a lower price, not a higher one?”

      An answering grin tugged at his mouth. This time his lips cooperated, twitching up a fraction. “I want to be fair.”

      “I consider the price I quoted more than fair, since I offered the cabin to you free.”

      Her point was hard to dispute. With a gesture of capitulation, he gave in. “Then I accept. With thanks.” He took the last swig of his coffee and handed her the mug. When his firm, strong fingers brushed hers, she tried not to notice. “I think I’ll head out and do a little exploring, stock up on some provisions. Thanks again, Jill.”

      He turned and struck out across the field. As Jill watched him recede into the distance, focusing on his broad back, she tried to figure out why she’d agreed to rent her cabin to this stranger. Considering how she guarded her privacy, it was an odd thing to do. She should be sending him on his way, not inviting him to share her space. It made no sense.

      And if she couldn’t explain her behavior to herself, how in the world was she going to explain it to Deb?

      Chapter Four

      The place was a pigsty.

      Hot color crept up Jill’s neck to her cheeks as she surveyed the cluttered, dirty cabin where Keith had spent last night. The dust was deep enough to write in, bits of debris clung to the woven rugs, and the thick grime on the windows was as effective as shades in diffusing the sunlight. On top of all that, the whole place smelled musty, half of the lightbulbs were burned out and cobwebs had staked a claim on the corners of the ceiling.

      Yet her unexpected visitor not only wanted to pay to stay here, he considered it a bargain!

      Well, Jill knew better. The place was more suited to its current role as a storage shed than to human habitation. Of course, at one time it had been much more livable. Jill had spent the first six months of her stay here while she rehabbed the decrepit main house. But since moving out, she’d done little to maintain the interior. Now that she had a paying guest, however, she needed to make up for lost time.

      Unsure how long Keith would be gone, Jill went into high gear. She dusted, vacuumed, mopped, scoured the kitchen and bathroom, stripped the bed and remade it with clean sheets and washed all the windows. Then she gathered up the baskets on the counter, carried the boxes of kitchen odds and ends outside, and collected her art supplies, wedging them into her car for a trip across the field to the house. As a final touch, she put a vase of fresh wildflowers in the center of the small oak dining table, propping a note beside it that directed Keith to the refrigerator.

      Finished, she stepped back to assess the results of her two hours of intensive labor. The windows sparkled, the polished surface of the table glistened, every bit of dust and debris had been vanquished, the bathroom and kitchen were spick-and-span, and the light fixtures gleamed. With