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They both rose. He started for the door, then turned back.

“She’s wrong, you know,” he said. “That woman? She’s wrong about a man not wanting you because you had a baby on your own. Being that kind of person makes a guy wonder how far you’d go for the man you loved. It makes him think it would be to the ends of the earth.”

Micah’s kind words stayed with Dena for the next hour. She had a quick talk with her principal about the guitars, then hurried home to change for her dinner with Micah. She had no idea where he was taking her. They were meeting at four thirty, which seemed a little early for the evening meal, but as she would be spending time with him, she wasn’t going to complain.

As friends, she reminded herself. Only friends. Nothing more.

Dressed in jeans and a pretty holiday sweater, she was pulling on her scarf as Micah walked into the lobby of the B and B.

He looked good, which wasn’t a surprise. She doubted he ever looked bad. There was something about his deep blue eyes, or maybe it was his smile. Or his easy stride or the way he walked directly to her, as if there was no one else in the room.

“That man,” Winona murmured under her breath from behind the front desk. “He does give a woman pause.”

Amen to that, Dena thought.

“Right on time,” he said with a wink. “See, you’re full of good qualities.”

“Yes, punctuality is one of my strong suits.”

“We’d better get going. We have big plans for tonight.”

He hustled her out to his car and drove through town, by-passing The Wreath. She tried to think of any restaurants on the other side of town, but none came to mind.

“Where are we going?” she asked, curious rather than concerned.

He pointed to a sign as they turned onto Red Cedar Highway. “There.”

She stared at the arrow pointing toward the private airport just east of town.

“There’s nowhere to eat at the airport.”

He flashed her a smile that had her hormones whimpering in delight. “I know.”

So why would they be going to the—“We’re getting on a plane?” she asked, her voice a little shrieky.

“We are. Now sit back and enjoy the drive.”

Given the time of year and how far north they were, the sun had already set. They drove through the darkness, arriving at the brightly lit airport ten minutes later. Dena stared at a small, sleek jet waiting on the tarmac. As Micah parked, the door on the plane opened and stairs were lowered, as if they were being invited inside.

“We’re getting on that?” she asked, unable to grasp the concept.

“We are. We’re flying to Seattle. It should take about thirty minutes to get there.”

“On a private jet?”

“I chartered it.”

They got out of the car and started toward the plane.

“How does that work?” she asked. “You pick up the phone and ask for a private jet to be delivered.”

“I have an account with the company, so yes. I was lucky one was available.” The smile returned. “I didn’t give them much notice.”

She would guess not, what with him asking her to dinner less than two hours earlier.

One of the two pilots came down to meet them. He introduced himself as Ron Sullivan and escorted them inside. Dena tried not to gape at the well-appointed interior, including comfy-looking plush leather seats.

Ron explained the safety features, showed her how to work the toilet in the bathroom, and put out a very nice cheese plate, along with an assortment of liquor, wine, and plain and sparkling water. She and Micah sat across from each other, and minutes later, the jet rolled down the runway and up into the sky.