Her brother and sister-in-law were coming in from Atlanta the following day, and she’d been working around the house, trying to get it ready for guests. Jonah was in bed with the flu, which didn’t make it any easier, since she’d had to take care of him as well. But that wasn’t the reason for her anger; Miles himself had been the cause.

Though she’d said that she wouldn’t mind if Miles went fishing, shehad asked him to take care of the yardwork on Saturday so she wouldn’t have to worry about that as well. Work, however, had intervened, and instead of calling Charlie with his regrets, Miles had elected to go out on Sunday anyway. Charlie had teased him on and off all day-“You’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight”-and Miles knew Charlie was probably right. But yardwork was yardwork and fishing was fishing, and for the life of him, Miles knew that neither Missy’s brother nor his wife would care in the slightest whether there were a few too many weeds growing in the garden.

Besides, he’d told himself, he would take care of everything when he got back, and he meant it. He hadn’t intended to be gone all day, but as with many of his fishing trips, one thing had led to the next and he’d lost track of time. Still, he had his speech worked out-Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything, even if it takes the rest of the night and I need a flashlight.It might have worked, too, had he told her his plans before he’d slipped out of bed that morning. But he hadn’t, and by the time he got home she’d done most of the work. The yard was mowed, the walk was edged, she’d planted some pansies around the mailbox. It must have taken hours, and to say she was angry was an understatement. Even furious wasn’t sufficient. It was somewhere beyond that, the difference between a lit match and a blazing forest fire, and he knew it. He’d seen the look a few times in the years they’d been married, but only a few. He swallowed, thinking, Here we go.