After taking care of business, she came back downstairs and made her way out to the barn. Her babies were all tucked into their stalls for the night, dozing or enjoying some munchies. They looked healthy and fit, and Charlotte ’s heart swelled with relief.

Not that she didn’t trust Jenna to take proper care of the sweet little beasts, but no one could look after them quite the way Charlotte did. She knew each of them by name, knew their individual quirks and personalities. Knew that all-white Snowball loved tiny pieces of apple and carrot, and that the black and white Domi (short for Domino) frightened easily. Really, really easily. And he didn’t just kick or spit, as was typical of alpacas when they got nervous or scared, but his eyes went wide and he also piddled a tiny bit down his leg.

For that reason alone, she didn’t race up to her baby boy’s stall and shout the joy of her return. Instead, she waddled quickly but quietly to each stall to greet her darlings individually.

Pumpkin, one of her favorite light brown darlings, lifted her head, spotted Charlotte, and trotted over to the half-door with a wide grin on her long, narrow face.

Most people would probably say Charlotte was crazy, that alpacas couldn’t grin. But Charlotte knew better-on both counts.

“Baby!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms wide to give the creature a giant hug.

Next came Sprinkles, Daisy, Snowball, Rascal, and finally Domino, all of whom got big hugs and kisses and tons and tons of super-special Mama lovin’.

She spent longer than she probably should have snuggling with her sweetie pies, but eventually she broke away, tossed them each a bit of extra hay for being such good furry babies, and reluctantly made her way back to the station wagon.

After dragging the bulkiest pieces of her luggage to just inside the house and unhooking the trailer hitch, she gathered her most recent knitting project onto the passenger side of the front seat beside her and cranked the engine. The ancient vehicle rumbled to life, purring like a big, happy jungle cat and lurching beneath her like an industrial washing machine.

Maybe this was why she’d had a thing for hogs in her younger days. The roar of an engine, the vibrating sensation that rippled through her entire body and set her skin to tingling. All that power. All that massive metal, with some big hunk of man perched on top.

Charlotte ’s cheeks turned rosy as a flush of heat stole through her body. The girls in her knitting group might think she was just a silly old woman, but she’d been a real chippy in her day. Oh, she’d never played fast and loose-she wasn’t that kind of woman. She’d never teased the fellas just to get attention, either. But she’d had her fair share of suitors. And just like her niece, she’d had a bit of a thing for the bad-boy type.

If she’d been a few years-all right, decades, she admitted reluctantly-younger, she’d have probably set her hat for Gage herself. What a tall, tattooed drink of water he was, that one.

With a shake of her bright orange beehived ’do, she put the wagon in gear and backed out of the drive, setting off down the graveled road toward town at a fast enough clip that a giant cloud of dust and dirt blew out behind her, kicked up by her rear tires.

Thinking about Jenna and Gage made her wonder what had happened with the skein of yarn she’d left with her niece before going on the road. It was magic yarn, infused with special true love powers, so surely something wonderful had occurred by now, right?

Perhaps Jenna had met a nice young man and fallen madly in love. Granted, she’d only been gone two weeks, but Charlotte was a firm believer in soul mates and love at first sight. And with the extra-special yarn at work, drawing in suitable mates, anything could happen.

At five minutes after eight, she pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall where The Yarn Barn nestled snugly between a coffee shop and one of those ninety-nine-cent stores. She found an open space only a few spaces from the front door, grabbed her things, and hurried inside.

There was a skip in her step and a wide smile on her face, not only because she’d been gone for so long and missed her Knit-Witting pals, but because she couldn’t wait to hear about Jenna’s whirlwind romance. She just knew her niece would be grinning from ear to ear, bursting at the seams to share her good news.

The others had already arrived, filling most of the chairs that the store had arranged in a circle around a small coffee table for multiple crafting groups to use on different afternoons and evenings during the week. There was a crochet group, a quilting group, a sewing group, and even an appliqué class that met in the same space.

Several reusable ceramic mugs with The Yarn Barn logo on them sat on the low table, filled with both hot and cold drinks from the small refreshment area the store provided, and the steady, staccato click and clack of needles coming together could be heard over friendly chit-chat.

Charlotte loved that sound. It was a sound of comfort to her. Of home and happiness.

“Hello, everyone,” she greeted them, taking a seat across the circle from her favorite members of the group-Jenna, Ronnie, and Grace. Of course, they were her favorites because she knew them best and spent the most time with them outside of their weekly knitting meetings.

Cries of “ Charlotte!” went up all around, warming her right down to her toes. She’d only been absent from two meetings, but she’d really missed them, and it felt good to be back and to receive such a cheerful welcome.

“How was your trip?” Grace wanted to know after everyone had jumped up to hug her. And that nearly overlapped Ronnie’s inquiry of “When did you get back?”

She told them all about her time on the road, becoming one with the highway and the big-rig drivers who made it their home. The truck stops where she’d eaten, and the rundown motels where she’d stayed. She’d been like Thelma on her way to meet Louise.

And then there had been the craft shows, which were held in giant fair auxiliary buildings or outdoors on the huge fairgrounds themselves. They’d bustled with crowds and been filled with vendors hawking every kind of craft and handmade item imaginable, and Charlotte had done a good bit of business for herself and others whose pieces she’d taken along to sell.

But the shows hadn’t been nearly as exciting as the freedom of the road, moving from place to place, and feeling the wind blow through her hair as she raced along the interstates. With the possible exception of missing her babies and the Knit Wit meetings, she almost couldn’t wait until next year to get back out there and do it all over again.

Although… come to think of it, she might have to consider either a new hairstyle or a hat of some sort. Maybe a helmet or set of scarves in different colors and prints. Because that wind blowing through the open windows of the wagon had really played havoc with her beautiful, bright red upsweep. If she hadn’t used so much hairspray to keep it in place, and then to work it back into place each time she stopped to tinkle, she would have looked positively frightful at the end of every day.

It wasn’t until she’d finished regaling everyone in the circle with stories of her adventures of the last two weeks that she realized Jenna had been unusually quiet. Well, not unusually quiet for sad, divorced Jenna, but unusually quiet for ecstatically happy, newly infatuated Jenna.

“So how did things go for you out at the farm, dear?” she fished. “Was everything all right?”

Did a gorgeous hunk of man get lost on that dusty old road and stumble to the door to ask for directions? Did you invite him in for a sip of tea to quench his mighty thirst and end up offering yourself on a silver platter, as well?

Her niece offered a friendly smile, but anyone with eyes could see it was forced.