We walked for some time. I probably looked crazy to him as I gaped at the windows, at the cars, at everything. To his credit, he didn't say anything.

"Here we are, Miss Bella."

We had stopped in front for a big house. It really looked like some mansion of my days. It probably still existed.

Nigel opened the door and allowed me to step inside first. I watched in awe around me, still not believing I was here. It could be a dream.

"At last, Nigel!" A woman's voice rang from the other room. "I sent you after tomatoes not to plant and grow them!" She appeared in the doorway and gasped, her eyes raking over me.

"Mother, this is Bella. She's new to the city and has nowhere to stay," he explained.

I looked at my sandals feeling my blush extending down my neck. Would she allow me to stay?

"Of course, you can stay, sweetheart! I'm Ruth Jones. Let me arrange a room for you."

Since she was so helpful, I offered to help her with dinner. She smiled and told me to relax and sit at the table. Because I couldn't sit while she worked, I offered to wash the tomatoes and she agreed reluctantly.

"Bella is a beautiful name. Is it your full name?" Ruth asked as we worked together.

"It's short from Isabella," I explained.

"Let me guess. You don't like your full name." She giggled. "You'd get along really well with Betty. She will stay over during her studies."

"Oh, Nigel wasn't kidding when he said you take care of people!"

"It's just the two of us, and I wouldn't sell this house for a thousand dollars. I thought of helping people and giving them a roof above their heads after the great fire." She got a sad look in her eyes. "I was ten at the time and my parents helped a lot of people. There was no need to move away once I got married because my parents died a month before my wedding. John, bless him, was mostly gone with work."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I think we have a pretty good life." She smiled at me, patting the top of my hand. "Tell me about Seattle."

I became interested in the tomato in my hand. "I'd rather not think of it."

"Mrs. Jones, your son seems stuck on asking the same thing every time he sees me," a twinkling voice said from the doorway. "Oh, you must be Bella!"

I turned to look at the girl and gasped, my dream coming back to me with full force. Nigel! Why hadn't I thought? This must be Betty then.