“Last night, I thought we were going to begin.”“Begin what?”She let out a soft sigh and said, “You know, begin”His voice held a smile when he replied, “We did, Abby. Couldn’t you tell?”She pulled his pillow to her chest and whispered, “Not really.”“Then you weren’t paying much attention” he muttered.”

“Perhaps,' she said, leaning forward a little, 'you will tell me your name. If we are to be friends' - she smiled her grave smile - 'as I hope we are, we had better begin at the beginning.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Let me drop the belt-"“No.” She held on when he would have pulled away. “Don’t. I like it.” Again, he lifted her face, and he smiled. “The tool belt turns you on.” “No.” She closed her eyes and thunked her forehead to his chest. “Little bit.”

“What were you thinking about justnow while you were looking out the window?" To his surprise, the question flustered her. "I—wasn't thinking.""Then what were you doing?" he asked, his curiosity aroused.A rueful smile touched her inviting lips, and she shot him a sideways look before turning back to thewindow. "I was… talking to God," she admitted. "'Tis a habit I have."Startled and slightly amused, Royce said, "Really? What did God have to say?""I think," she softly replied, "He said, 'You're welcome.' ""For what?" Royce teased.Lifting her eyes to his, Jenny solemnly replied, "For you.”

“Sometimes,' he whispered at last, 'sometimes, I dream I am singing, and I wake from it with my throat aching.' He couldn't see her face, or the tears that prickled at the corners of her eyes.'What do you sing?' she whispered back. She heard the shush of the linen pillow as he shook his head.'No song I've ever heard, or know,' he said softly. 'But I know I'm singing it for you.”

“Stay away from me, Nick." She held out a hand to hold him off. He grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest. "I can't," he said softly.”