Abigail looked at herself in the little mirror they kept by the back door of the kitchen. She had taken a change of clothes in the makeup bag to work with her that day so that she could change before her date.

"I've never seen you primp this much for anything," Clare said, perched upon the stool at the worktable. "You can't fool me by telling me you’re only friends. After all, you’ve already told me you were going to marry the man.”

"I'm still not sure about that. I can't imagine our ideals are going to line up. But I'm not going to lie," Abigail said as she brushed a hand down the front of her skirt. "When I look into those dark eyes, I get a little lost.”

"It figures that you'd get the guy. Here I've been in this town twice as long as you have, and nothing. Oh well," she moaned as she hopped down from the stool. "I guess if I really wanted one I should go look for one right?”

Abigail laughed. "Just remember we’re both in the same boat. I'm not actually seeing him, yet. I'm not married to him either.”

"Call me if you need me. Don't take him home. Call me when you get home.”

"Yes, ma'am," she said sternly to her cousin who grinned back at her. "I'm going to be okay.”

"I think you will be too. I'll see you in the morning." Clare grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

A moment later the door opened again, and Abigail walked out to the front of the store. Oh, she figured she was a goner. There stood Carson Stone. His dark suit jacket hung open, but his tie was still tied. In his arms, he carried the biggest bouquet of red roses Abigail had ever seen.

She walked toward him. “Are you trying to impress me?"

"Is it working?" He handed her the bouquet.

Abigail sniffed at the petals, and the scent filled her with pleasure. She lifted her eyes to his, and at that moment she saw the same image she saw when Mrs. Winters had touched her hand. This man who stood before her, gazing down at her just as he was. Her heart raced so fast she had to rest her hand on her chest. Dating someone meant you started to get to know them. But what was supposed to happen when one of the people in this newly forming relationship already knew the result? And what if, looking up into his eyes, she knew how much she was going to love him?

"I think it worked."

There was an awkward silence that brewed between them. Deep inside, Abigail wished he would move in and kiss her, but her reaction from the day before probably stopped him. Should give him credit for holding back.

"Let me put these in some water." She turned and walked back to the kitchen, and he followed, just as she hoped he might. "There is a large vase on the top shelf," she said as she pointed up in the storage area. "Would you mind pulling it down?”

“Sure.”

Abigail watched, with some delight, as Carson took down the vase. He set it down next to the sink where she had placed the flowers.

“I'll arrange these in the morning. They're going to look beautiful on the front counter."

Carson reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. The movement so intimate, Abigail had to pay attention to her knees so they wouldn’t give out.

"Is your car here?”

"Yes, of course.”

That smile, oh that smile, formed on his mouth. “Since I'll be bringing you back here, after dinner, why don't you take them home with you.”

"But I'll only be home to sleep. I'm coming right back here in the morning.”

"Then I'll get you more roses. I want those to be set next to your bed when you wake up in the morning. I'm trying to make sure I'm the first thing you think about when you wake up.”

Abigail swallowed hard. “I thought we were going to dinner as friends.”

"Sometimes the best lover starts out as a friend."

She could hardly breathe now. It took everything she had not to throw her arms around Carson's neck and pull him in. Tyrant, she reminded herself. It would be much better if she just kept in mind that he was a tyrant. Perhaps if she could get him to not tear down the church, she could change her mind. Because right at the moment, she really wanted to change her mind.

---

Carson had made reservations at the Golden Hotel for dinner. He figured it was close. And if for any reason she walked out on him in the middle of dinner, she wouldn't have too far to go. He still wasn't sure the roses had impressed her. Though, there were a few times he thought if he kissed her she'd accept it. Not tonight. He was going to take this nice and slow.

He decided not to tell her how ecstatic Mrs. Winters was that he was taking her to dinner tonight. If it were up to Mrs. Winters, he'd be proposing tonight. No, he'd never run off and get married as she had. Though something about Abigail tugged at him. Maybe someday he'd run off with her. Okay, it wouldn't be running off. It would be a drawn-out relationship. Watching the way she studied the menu, he figured she'd need a lot of wedding planning. Perhaps even, a lot of encouragement to want to get married. The thought humored him, and he chuckled.

She lowered her menu. "Did I do something funny?”

"Not at all. I'm enjoying watching you make this decision. Have you not eaten here before?”

Abigail put the menu down. "No. I usually work through lunch and breakfast. I'm very frugal. So I often eat at home. And," she began, as she picked up her menu, "I sound like a snob. I'm sorry."

She lifted the menu up to hide her face. How endearing, Carson thought. “I certainly don't take you as a snob. I peg you as somebody who is very thoughtful, and doesn't make rash and spur of the moment decisions.”

Lowering the menu, Abigail looked up at him. "I like your analogy much better. I can't make up my mind." She closed the menu and set it down. "I'm going to do something a little bit rash. I'm going to let you decide what I'm eating for dinner.”

"You're going to let me decide? I have very good taste."

"I don't eat fish. Make your selection accordingly." She smiled at him, and it twisted him up inside. Yeah, it was going to take a lot of discipline to not pull her to him and kiss her madly. Oh, but when he did, it was going to be magic.

---

The chill in the October air was welcome against Abigail's skin as they walked from the hotel the two blocks to her shop. Tourists walked the streets and ducked in and out of restaurants and bars. During the summer, when the sun stayed out longer, people dined on the patios of those restaurants and rafted down the creek. It was a tranquil and beautiful place, Abigail thought. She could see herself growing old in the community.

As they turned the corner and she looked up at the mountain, the M glowed from its top. She had quickly learned that the M belonged to the School of Mines which occupied most of downtown Golden. It was like a calling card. But to her, no matter where she was in the city, she knew that right below that M was home.

“That is one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen,” she said glancing toward Carson whose head was down as he walked. "Don't you think?"

His walk slowed, and he finally lifted his eyes. Then he stopped. "Don't think I'm crazy, okay, but I stopped looking at that mountain thinking it was a beautiful sight a long time ago. I only go up there now when I need to clear my head.”

Abigail studied him. Who would stop looking at a mountain—and then it dawned on her. Lookout Mountain stood right in front of them. Golden was centered at the base of that very mountain.

She reached for his hand and squeezed it, just as she had when he told her the story. "That was insensitive of me. I didn't think about it."

He turned her toward him and lifted his hand to her cheek. "How could you possibly think that was insensitive? It's a mountain. For me to think it didn't exist, well, that was just silly. In fact, you have no idea how much it helped me to tell you that story. Keeping close with Mrs. Winters, that keeps him alive to me. But in fact, this whole town should keep him alive. We ran amok like crazy kids," he chuckled. He reached for her other hand and clasped their fingers together. "I think of him more fondly now. I think of those good times. Not that one unfortunate one that took him away. Thank you for showing me the beauty in what is around us.”

She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. What else could she say?

They held hands as they walked the last few feet toward her shop.

"I'm going to go inside and get the flowers.”

"I'll wait right here for you," he offered as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

Abigail opened the door to the shop and turned on the light. She took a moment and breathed in deep to calm herself. She pushed the word tyrant back into the forefront of her head. She had told Clare she had a mission, she just wasn't sure she believed in it anymore.

Abigail picked up the vase of roses and walked back to the front door where Carson waited.

"Would you hold these for me please," she asked as she handed him the flowers. She locked the door and turned back to him.

“Where's your car?"

“Right behind the building. I can make it to my car."

"I'll carry them to your car. They're very special roses you know," he said, as they went around the building.

"Very special? And what makes them so very special?" she asked as she unlocked the car and opened the door.

Carson handed her the vase, and she belted it carefully into the seat, then she turned back to him for her answer.

"Those came out of Mrs. Winters' garden.”

Abigail looked at the roses and then back at Carson. "It's October. Nobody's roses look like that. Now you’re telling me stories.”

Carson held up his hands as if in surrender. "I kid you not. She has a garden out front, and one in the back. And she has an entire greenhouse of roses that stay beautiful all year."

"Carson, they're beautiful. Tell her how grateful I am that she gave these to you. I will put them next to my bed so that the first thing I think about is you.”

He held her gaze. But he didn't move in to kiss her.

"How about tomorrow, you and I stop by her house after work. I know she would love to see you. She is looking very forward to her birthday tea, and the invitation is still open for you to join us.”

"Tomorrow I'll be done by six. Pick me up then?"

"See you tomorrow. Now get in your car. I'm not going to walk away until I've seen you drive away."

With a smile, Abigail closed the passenger door and walked around to the other side of the car. "Would you believe it if I told you I've never had a high tea for my birthday?”

"Then consider our invitation. It could be the first of many wonderful things.”

She let the words settle around her heart, then climbed into her car, started the engine, and drove away.