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small studio in town where Aspen’s art was on display. They had become fast friends, and before long Aspen and Lex had adopted Mason as a surrogate sister. Mason was the older of two girls by quite a few years, so she and her real sister were never close and having them as family helped fill the void that had been left by her less than normal family. That’s why she felt so close to Aspen and Lex and why Anne Cabot had been like a mother to her. Anne was the woman who had finally given Mason the feeling of having a home. She loved her as her own, which is why it bothered her so much to butt heads with Marly.
    Mason opened the screen door and went back inside. She started for the chair she had abandoned shortly before then decided she should at least shower and change clothes. She’d lived in what she had on for the last three days and knew she must reek by now. Fortunately, Aspen and Lex were kind enough not to mention it. Mason undid her overalls and stripped off her T-shirt. Her muscles rippled beneath her tanned skin, and she flexed almost instinctively. Hours of working with metal and steel had toned her upper body, giving her the look of someone who worked out religiously. She stopped in front of the mirror, and her eyes flicked up and down the length of her body. She looked thinner. Grief was a horrible way to lose weight, but eating hadn’t been at the top of her list since Anne died.
    Mason met her reflection in the mirror, and she ran a finger over the dark circles under her eyes, surprised at just how gaunt she looked. She exhaled loudly and started the water in the shower, turning it just hot enough to steam. Moments later, she stepped under the spray and prayed it would wash away the ache she felt deep inside.

Chapter 4
     
    Mason pulled her welding mask down and ignited her blowtorch, opening the oxygen valve on the torch head to match the acetylene. The hiss of the flame filled the small garage. Mason felt herself smile, at least briefly. She felt most at home in her tiny workshop. It was her safe haven, the place where she escaped from the harsh reality of the outside world. She could get lost in there for hours on end, creating, designing, crafting works of art.
    Mason grabbed a piece of flat metal about a foot long and two inches in diameter. She held the flame about a quarter of the way down the metal strip, allowing the heat to soften the metal. She moved the torch down the metal, allowing each section to heat up before moving further down. When it was pliable enough, she set the blowtorch down and grabbed a pair of pliers, twisting the end of the metal strip until it resembled a blade of grass. She held it out for several more seconds as it cooled then set it next to a stack of petals she made earlier.
    She was working on a piece for Mrs. Cabot. Anne had loved orchids and Mason was working on a new design, meant as a surprise for Anne. Even though she had passed away, Mason decided she would continue the piece and place it next to Anne’s headstone. It was the least she could do for the woman who had taken her in and loved her as her own. Mason sighed behind her mask and blinked back the tears. She grabbed an identical strip of metal and centered the flame on the same spot, duplicating her last movements.
    “Hello?” Marly stopped at the open door and watched Mason at work. She could see the skill with which she worked, despite not knowing the first thing about welding. She leaned against the doorjamb, knowing that Mason wouldn’t hear her with all the noise.
    It was a good five minutes before Mason sensed company and caught sight of Marly at the door. She held up her finger before she closed the acetylene and oxygen valves then opened the needles on the blowtorch head to release the gas inside the hose. She set the torch down and pushed her mask off her face. “Marly.”
    “It’s Mason, right?” Marly shoved off the doorframe and stepped inside Mason’s workshop. She forced a smile at