The rich smell of fresh coffee came to her just as she was registering the feel of cool sheets under her hand where she had expected warm skin. She sniffed a couple of times to make sure, then finally opened her eyes. A few rays of sun made their way past the thick trees and into the log-lined room. Noting her friend's absence, she yawned open-mouthed and stretched, looking at the clock. 8:30…she wondered if Alexander was already out on that lake.

Alexander…she thought back on her unlikely dream, color coming into her cheeks. That hadn't happened in quite some time. Once, in the first few years, it was not uncommon for the dreaming to merge with the corporeal , her reach for him in her dream turning into her waking hands sliding over his sleek, sleep-heavy skin, him sliding into her wet waiting body still aroused from her imaginings. Jane wondered if anyone else populated his dreams these days.

The cabin was quiet, faint chirpings coming from outside but silent within. She wrapped herself in the borrowed bathrobe and slipped into the bath for a quick morning wash-up. Brushing her teeth, she caught flashes of red and yellow as the morning sun struck the stained glass window over the tub. She debated having a shower and change, but the coffee was irresistible, as was the curiosity of where Lovejoy had gotten to.

Bare feet against smooth plank floors, she went into the kitchen area. A carafe of coffee was in the coffee maker, cups, milk and sugar set out. The makings of a country breakfast were on the counter, but still no sign of him. Frowning, she went through the French doors to the deck.

"Isn't that freezing?" She watched him slice through the water, the sun making the water splashes sparkle as he swam the length of the pool.

"Morning, Janie!" He turned to look up at her, shaking water out of his long hair as he treaded water. "It's not bad at all once you get in, honestly." He grinned. 'Fancy a dip before breakfast?"

"I told you I didn't bring any swimwear, Lovejoy."

"And neither did I, but you don't see that stopping me."

She shook her head. "You are such a…a boysometimes, Lovejoy. I'm for coffee. Please, go ahead and play Huck Finn at the swimming hole or whatever. I'll save some for you."

He grinned as she went back inside. Her cheek sounded like she had gotten over any embarrassment about their early morning…whatever that was. Birds were lucky, he thought. He had to plunge into a poolful of quite chilly water to get fully over their morning, which had been shockingly effective, once his teeth stopped chattering.

Jane stood just behind the lace curtains, feeling a bit terrible about enjoying the poolside view as she sipped her coffee. By the time he was leaving damp footprints on the kitchen floor, she was leaning on the kitchen island, ignoring his towel-wrapped body and wild ringlets of black hair falling to his shoulders.

"Pour me a cup, would you, Janie? I'll start a fry-up after I dry off." He padded back to the bedroom to grab jeans and tee shirt, leaving more damp footprints in his wake.

The fry-up turned into a more genteel cheese omelet after he turned a bent eye at the over-thin American bacon and looked in vain for potatoes and onions. At least the bread was lovely, chewy and home-made, he thought.

"Heard from Alexander?"

She looked into the dregs of her coffee. "It went straight to voicemail. I imagine they got an early start."

Oh, I just bet they did, he thought.

She sat her cup down with a louder clatter than she intended. "I'm for the shower. Do you want to start looking through those guides and planning our day?" She was down the hall before he could get "Sure thing, Janie" out of his mouth.

"Yes, Mrs. Carr. Dovie, of course. No plans yet…we'd love to hear your suggestions. Fifteen minutes, then. Great." He hung up.

Jane was fluffing her hair as it dried, dressed in what she imagined was "Saturday American Casual"; tailored white jeans, madras plaid shirt, sleeves slightly rolled, and blindingly white trainers. "Was that the owner?"

"Yeah, she's coming by in a few. You look like a sixth-form girl in that, Janie. Quite charming." He grinned, enjoying her blush as she shook her head.

"I'm a bit past that, and so are you, Lovejoy. Found any prospects for an outing?"

He fanned out some brochures on the coffee table. Some shopping, three wineries, a couple of state parks, a hiking trail, and a handful of historic districts. They were still sorting through their options when they saw a light start blinking on a sensor set by the door. A minute later, they could hear a car rumbling down the drive.

They looked at each other. For a rustic log cabin, it seemed to have quite a bit of security.

Their hostess had that hair favored by women of a certain age, he thought, that could-be-blond, could-be-white color, depending on the light. His image of an aging Melanie Wilkes (which he could not have said why that had come to his mind) had been shoved away by her faded jeans and her black "Bat Out Of Hell" Meat Loaf tee shirt over her trim figure. Introductions made properly, she and Jane chatted about Brighton and Aberdeen as they finished their coffee.

"Lovejoy…" Jane prompted, wishing she was close enough to give him a discreet elbow to the ribs.

"Oh—I'm sorry, Mrs. Carr…ah…Dovie." He realized he probably was giving the impression of ungentlemanly staring. "Do you mind if I ask about your necklace?" A tingling had started behind his eyes that had nothing to do with the flaming motorcycle on her shirt.

She smiled. "Which one, Mr. Lovejoy?" She had a number of chains and pendants around her neck, adding to her "well-bred bohemian" appearance.

"Just Lovejoy…the diamond between your, ah…front tire and handlebars, there."

She looked down. "Oh, yes, grandmother's engagement gift. Quite old, I would say."

Jane looked at the small diamond pendant. It seemed unremarkable, a bit small, but different from those worn by her smart friends. Oh, Lord, she thought. He had his loupe at the ready and was staring at the lady's chest. What a lovely impression.

Dovie lifted the chain over her head and handed the necklace over to Lovejoy and his jeweler's loupe.

The older lady gave Jane a smile that said "boys and their toys" as he turned the diamond this way and that.

"Haven't seen one like this in a long time. Gems…not really my thing, but this is quite an antique you have here. Look, Janie…" he handed her the gem and the loupe. "See the point? And the flat cut at the bottom? That's an "Old Mine" cut. See those side facets? And notice, it's not quite perfectly round…mined in the Indian diamond mines long before African mines were popular."

"When were your grandparents engaged, Mrs…Dovie, if you don't mind my asking?"

She smiled. "I had no idea the English could be so…inquisitive." She glanced at a rather embarrassed Jane, awkwardly holding the woman's jewelry in her hand.

"We're not, Mrs. Carr. Lovejoy tends to forget his manners when around antiques." She inwardly groaned as Dovie raised an eyebrow and tried to hide an amused grin. She handed her jewelry back, hoping that hadn't been taken the wrong way. She glanced at Lovejoy, who seemed far too entertained, considering he had started this.

"They were engaged in 1905, Lovejoy, but the diamond came into the family through my grandfather's mother, around—"

"—1870." he finished for her.

She slipped the necklace back over her head, looking at Jane. "He is good, isn't he?"

Lovejoy turned to Jane, expectant smile on his face. "Gonna answer the lady, Janie?"

"On occasion, Mrs. Carr. On the rare occasion." Her smile held a tinge of frost towards him.

After a discreet settling of the bill, all three flipped through the brochures, Jane and Lovejoy asking for recommendations.

"This is nice, but it's two hours' drive on very twisty roads", Mrs. Carr mused, fingertip on a brochure about Blowing Rock. "This winery is quite close, just down the road, but the wine is French-fashion and the owners are terrible snobs. But this…this is a friendly winery, just in the foothills, and about thirty minutes from here. It's quite popular with my guests."

"They make a good wine, then?" Jane asked.

She laughed. "Most is still closer to plonk than Napa Valley, but it's a nice outing, a decent light lunch…and then a quick half-hour back here." She stood, boot heels creaking against the wooden floor. "Most people staying here only go so they can say they actually went sightseeing and won't have to tell their friends they never left the property. That is, the folks who tell their friends about this place at all."

She took a few minutes to show them the workings of the stereo and fireplace, how to light the tiki torches poolside, and scribble directions to a small grocery three miles up the road "in case you decide to stay close today."

"Just let me know when you think you'll be leaving. No hurry…no one's booked until next week."

Jane looked over at Lovejoy, fiddling with the stereo. "We should be staying only one more night. My husband should be done with meetings by then and we'll be joining him in Charlotte."

She expected a raised eyebrow over that, as well, but her hostess's face was placidly neutral. "Please, feel free to invite him here, if you wish." She watched Lady Jane's face carefully. "Or not, of course. Again, as you wish."

Lovejoy gave Mrs. Carr a buss and a hearty thanks for everything, while Jane finally acquiesced to her request that they call her Dovie. Pulling the trash bag out of the bin, Dovie asked if Jane would help her get it into her trunk.

"Oh, here, let me." He reached for the bag, then noticed a cautionary look from Dovie.

"We're fine, Lovejoy. You might go check the hall closet for me, see if the picnic tarp and blankets are there, if you want to think about a nice picnic lunch on the grounds." Feeling quite dismissed, he went rummaging for the suggested supplies.

Jane trailed after Dovie, feeling a bit useless as the older woman didn't seem to need any help that she could see. Dovie shut the trunk on the trash and leaned against her car.

"You know…this is none of my business…" Jane began bracing herself. Odd that the woman would be turning Puritan now, but you never could tell about Americans.

"…and I'm not one to subscribe to New Age-y fads…but…" she sighed.

"Are you aware that things go a bit…greyish blue, in the air around you, when you speak of your husband?"

"I—no, I'm not aware of any such thing!" She hadn't thought the woman was old enough to be dotty, but what an odd thing to say.

"Probably nothing, just a trick of the light. Or maybe it's just me." She looked away from Jane, into the heavy-leafed trees. "Blue makes me think of loyalty. Grey…that's an old, sad tone." She looked directly into Jane's eyes. Later, if asked what color the woman's eyes were, she couldn't have said, but they kept her attention.

"Life is too short, to keep sadness and loyalty mixed for too long. Just my opinion, of course." She touched Jane's hand lightly. "I hope the grey lifts soon for you, If there's anything to that nonsense."

"Um, thank you. That's…thoughtful of you to say."

"Janie! Ask if there's more towels, please." Lovejoy called from the porch.

Dovie smiled. "More towels are in the under-sink cabinets. Pool towels are in the downstairs bedroom." She turned to get in her car.

"Dovie?" Jane bit her lip, wanting to ask, and not, at the same time.

"Yes, dear?"

"The colors thing…." She stopped, not sure how to proceed without sounding a fool.

"When you speak of him,it's an ombré effect, pink to red, shot through with blue. A bit like a very nice sunset."

"What do you suppose that means?"

The older woman slipped on her sunglasses. "Oh, I couldn't begin to tell you, Lady Jane. But I can tell you this…" she pulled down her sunglasses and looked at Jane over the rims. "I've been told this is an excellent place to figure out the meanings of things."

As she drove off, Jane looked back at Lovejoy, standing on the porch still. An errant sunbeam hit the stained glass window to his left, and for just a second, she saw him bathed in warm red light.

"So…winery, or ride through the hills, or…?" He bounced a bit on the balls of his feet,hands in his pockets, waiting for her reply.

She tucked her arm through his as they went back inside. "I think I'd prefer just…staying around here, if you don't mind."

He grinned at the gold nimbus of hair around her face. "Not at all, Janie, not at all."

TBC

Note: The Brighton and Aberdeen references are for venues played by Meat Loaf in the late 80s-early 90s when the US turned its collective back on him and the UK and Europe kept him touring