It was a circus. A town fair. Most of the people, especially all those from Virgin River, were only there to watch, not to buy.

In and around Hope's house volunteers were posted to watch over the items for sale--furniture, dishes, flatware, quilts, old linens, that bag of dozens of ball caps, the old purple velour couch.

Mel Sheridan felt her eyes moisten with tears when she saw that old, jacked-up beige Suburban drive away with its new owner. It was still wearing mud on its frame from Hope's driving around the back mountain roads in the rain. It was hard to watch the memory of her vanish, piece by piece.

Lilly heard about the estate sale from Annie. She knew someone who would love poking around all that old, retro stuff, especially the tables, chairs and accessories. She planned to put off her cleaning and shopping chores to accompany Dane to the sale; not only did Dane love haunting oddball sales, he was always looking for furniture for the Loving Cup. If he could pick up a chair or two or old side table, he'd be like a kid in a candy store.

Dane worked out his schedule with Darlene to take a few hours off and Lilly picked him up. He was almost giddy with excitement and happy they were getting an early start. As they drove up Highway 36 toward Virgin River he yammered about the sorts of things he'd be happy to find--furniture, old pitchers, a pie safe or dry sink as a serving accessory, trays, linens, good flatware at a nice price.... The list went on the more excited he got.

"Hey, you've been doing more riding than yoga lately," he said suddenly. "How's the new guy working out?"

Lilly kept her eyes on the road, but she smiled and said, "I like him."

"Like...him?"

"I've seen a lot of him the last couple of weeks. We work together at the clinic, ride sometimes. I've been to his sister's house for dinner a couple of times. I'm thinking of letting my grandfather have a crack at him over Sunday dinner."

Dane whistled. "This is progress. When am I going to get the more interesting details?"

She just laughed at him and didn't answer.

"Seriously," Dane said. "I have stuck by you through everything for years now--why are you so cagey about this guy? Is it just because he's Native American?"

"Maybe," she said. Then she turned toward him and she knew her eyes glowed. "We have some traditional stuff in common, but I've been trying to avoid that stuff for so long. It's hard to let myself go. I'm just trying to keep my head. Stay sane."

"Not go over the deep end?" Dane asked. "Oh, cup-cake, the deep end can be so much fun!"

"Yeah, I know. I have some experience with that. But there are big differences this time. Huge," she emphasized. "Clay is a beautiful person. He has a very old soul. He wants to meet you."

"Really?" Dane said, grinning stupidly. Clearly he was touched by this.

"Don't be so optimistic," Lilly said. "He offered to let you hit him to, you know, even the score or something."

"Really?" he said again, his grin growing. "Well, that's unconventional. Does this very old soul you're involved with know that I swing the other way?"

"He does," she said. "I even admitted to him that I've spent a lot of energy trying to turn you straight." She grinned at him. "I explained that you're hopelessly g*y. He seemed to take that in stride."

"Ah, a secure straight guy," Dane said. "My absolute weakness..."

Lilly bit her lower lip, serious. "I intended to go very slowly," she finally said. "There's just something about him that makes going slow awful hard."

There was a colorful sign on the road that read Sale! Some balloons were attached, but they weren't helium so they drooped, hanging down by their ribbons. She maneuvered her little Jeep down the one-lane drive, passing some cars and trucks parked along the slanting road. All conversation between them stopped as the house came into view. Neither Lilly nor Dane had ever seen it before, but then, except for the locals who had lived in Virgin River a very long time, most of the people present--browsers, shoppers, collectors--would have had even less reason to have visited this property before today.

"Oh, my God," Dane said, his eyes running from the front porch to the top of the third story. The paint was peeling, the wood on the porch and rails was faded gray, the siding a faded dirty white, and some shingles on the roof were curling, but it was an amazing structure--three stories with turrets and decorative wood accents. It was only September and the grounds were still beautiful. Flower beds surrounded the front porch and flanked the stone walk, full green bushes grew alongside mature pines, oak and maple trees. With just a little exterior sprucing up, the old Victorian could be stunning. In its day it was probably quite a mansion. "Look at that house!"

Dane left Lilly in his dust. He was anxious to get inside the house and poke around, both at the items for sale and the architecture. He turned back when he was halfway to the front porch, a questioning look on his face. She laughed, shook her head and waved him on. He was far more excited about the event than she. She spotted Annie standing across the lawn talking to a man she didn't know, so she wandered over that way.

Once Lilly was standing beside Annie, she began to meet more people from Virgin River. Nathaniel joined them, then Jack Sheridan, who owned the bar and grill in town--the man who apparently had been made responsible for this deceased woman's estate. She was introduced to Preacher, Noah and Paul and their wives.

Someone handed her a soda and a couple more people joined them--Walt Booth and his lady friend, Muriel, who looked familiar and, Lilly learned, had had a hand in setting up the weekend sale. Lilly heard more about how Hope McCrea had been so well-known in the town and yet a mystery to so many.

"There was a lot more to Hope than met the eye," Muriel said. "We found some valuable art in her house that has been taken to auction, and some stories have come out of the paintings. One artist, whose estate has established an impressive online catalog, began her watercolor career just south of here. During the Depression she painted in exchange for food for her family--Hope actually had four of her paintings, which have become very valuable. Not only did Hope have a good eye for art, she was helping neighbors a long while before this was even a real town."

All around them was the atmosphere of a fair--the kids on ponies or the little merry-go-round, chasing each other through the big trees, people lounging in their lawn chairs with a beer or hot dog, watching as people came and went out of the house, happily carrying their finds. Lilly wasn't sure how long she'd been standing with new friends and old, maybe over an hour, when it happened.

She saw Clay coming up the drive; he must have parked down the road and walked the rest of the way. She filled her eyes with him; there was no more beautiful man on the face of the earth.

"There's Clay," Annie said to Nathaniel. "Did you know he was coming?"

Nathaniel laughed and glanced at Lilly. "I doubt he's here for the antiques."

Lilly barely heard; a slight smile touched her lips. She knew he hadn't come to shop, and it was such a nice surprise.

Clay saw them, waved, smiled and continued toward Lilly. He wore jeans and boots; it was unusual to see him in anything else. His shirt was denim, his hat bore the eagle feather and his hair was loose. Some of it fell over his shoulder while the rest flowed down his back.

"Good," Nate said. "He can meet Jack and some of the Virgin River guys."

"Oh, I know Clay," Jack said. "He's eaten at the bar a few times. Very nice guy." Jack waved a hand in front of Lilly's face to get her attention. "I don't know too much about Native American culture--I don't even know if this is a dumb question. Are you two from the same tribe or something?"

Lilly laughed lightly, sentimentally. "Our tribes are legendary enemies."

Jack watched her face. "You gonna be able to work that out?" he asked with a sly grin.

"I don't think we have a choice," she said, her eyes moving back to Clay.

Clay neared, aiming right for her, his smile broadening just as she felt a light seem to shine from within her. Clay went first to Lilly before acknowledging anyone else and the very moment his hands reached for hers, there was a crash.

Lilly spun around and saw Dane sprawled on the steps of the porch, looking shocked and a little wild-eyed, surrounded by the scattered sterling flatware that had spilled out of the leather case he held against his chest. His eyes were locked on Lilly and Clay and his long legs were splayed down the stairs.

"Dane!" she shouted, running to him.

Clay looked at Annie with a frown. "That's Dane?"

"You don't know Dane? He owns a coffee shop near my beauty parlor--he's a good friend of mine. And Lilly's."

Clay gave a nod that was more a lift of his chin. "I haven't met him yet." Then he began to slowly walk toward Lilly and Dane.

When Lilly got to Dane, she knelt on the step. "What in the world happened?"

Dane looked a little flushed. "Is that him?" he whispered, nodding over Lilly's shoulder. Lilly took a quick glance, then nodded back at Dane. "Good Lord! You didn't mention he was friggin' Adonis!"

She chuckled a little. "I told you he was handsome."

"Lilly, I'm handsome. He's a friggin' Adonis!"

"Yeah, and then some," she agreed.

"No shit. Whew." Dane wiped his forehead. "I went into a trance when I saw him walking up the road. Then when he reached for you and I realized--"

Clay towered over them. "You okay, man?"

"Um, yeah. Okay," Dane said, sitting up on a step. "Guess I slipped. I must have had... I don't know..."

"Maybe it was the vapors," Lilly suggested wryly. "Let's pick up your silverware. I can take you home."

With Clay lifting one elbow and Lilly lifting the other, Dane seemed to stand a bit shakily, but his head was twisted toward Clay, looking up at him in sheer wonder.

Lilly gave his arm a shake. "Did you hit your head?" she asked sharply.

He finally relaxed his intoxicated gaze and turned toward Lilly. He grinned stupidly. "No, not exactly. I don't have to go home. I just, I don't know, caught my heel on the last step." He shook himself. "I am going to put this silverware I just bought in the Jeep, however."

"You do that," she said, crouching to begin picking up pieces. Between the three of them, it didn't take long to gather up the spilled items. Then Dane was off down the drive to Lilly's vehicle with his treasure. He looked back over his shoulder a couple of times, as if to be sure he'd really seen Clay. On about the third glance, Clay gave an abbreviated wave.

"I'm starting to catch on," he said to Lilly.

"Are you, now?"

"Men don't usually gaze at me that way," Clay explained. "Shew."

"When he thinks about this later, he is going to be so embarrassed."

Eleven

Jillian maneuvered the van into the Riordan cabin compound, her sister Kelly riding shotgun, her friends Penny and Jackie in the backseat. They drove past the river, wide and flowing strong beside the cabins, surrounded by trees, shrubs, autumn flowers with mountains rising behind it. Six small, quaint cabins lined the drive; there was a two-story house with a wide porch at the end of the compound.

This was the last leg of their annual vacation, one they were committed to and had taken every year since college. She drove past the cabins right up to the front of the owner's house. When she parked, a young woman holding a baby stood from her porch chair.

Jillian and Kelly were the first out of the van. "Hi," Jill said. "I'm--"

"Jillian Matlock?" she asked. "Hi, I'm Shelby Riordan. Welcome." She turned away and shouted into the house. "Luke, they're here."