Staring absently at the tree-lined street, she thought idly that the silver in the town’s name was a misnomer. The oaks were turning that smooth, buttery gold they always did in early October. A distracted thought; she seemed to have been distracted for the better part of a week. The thing was, whom did she know in the town who might be a good companion for her mother? Smoothing her navy skirt, she stood up and wandered toward the front of the long, book-lined room. Her skirt-donned especially for the trip to town-was paired with a red nubby sweater with a scooped neck and short sleeves. Her hair was tied back with a patterned scarf in the same colors.

She felt unusually pretty, and just a little more so when Mr. Hines looked up appreciatively as she paused in front of his desk. “I miss you in the summer,” he said warmly. “You and your husband are my best winter customers, you know.”

Bett chuckled, leaning on the counter. “I’m playing hooky this afternoon, I’m afraid. Though I did come here with a purpose. Word has it there’s a new virus attacking bees in the area, but I’ll be darned if I can find anything about it in any of the usual trade journals.”

Mr. Hines pushed back his glasses. “Do you have the name of it?”

Bett gave it. “But I don’t know anything about it except the rumor. Some disease brought up by a hive from Texas, settled in Ohio, moved into Michigan last spring?”

Mr. Hines’s forehead puckered, then smoothed out as he motioned to her to follow him. Bett stuck her hands in the pockets of her skirt, an amused and affectionate smile on her face as she trailed behind. Mr. Hines was a librarian to the core, but she had the feeling that he had secret fantasies of being a private eye. Mysteries were his obsession. Books were his turf, and somewhere in the billions of pages on the shelves there had to be answers for everyone.

“We’ll try here, first.” He motioned.

She had five magazines in front of her before she could have said boo, and rather than leaving her, Mr. Hines licked his thumb and started flicking through pages with her, pushing his glasses low on the bridge of his nose so he could see better.

Halfway through the second periodical, she found herself staring at him. Theodore Hines was rather short; in the five years she’d known him, he’d never worn anything but a gray suit. The kids loved him, in spite of his dignity. He’d probably help a convicted thief if the thief liked good literature-and didn’t use slang.

He had to be nearing sixty; Betty knew he was a bachelor. What would her dad have thought of him? she considered idly. Very thoughtful, very shy, occasionally just a little pompous, but no question; true-blue nice.

Mr. Hines turned absently and caught a sudden, radiant smile on Bett’s face. “You found what you needed?” he asked, as if thoroughly disappointed that the search had taken so little time.

“I think so-if I could take this out?”

“It’s supposed to be a reference for the library.” He frowned, and then offered her one of his tiny, very special smiles. “I can’t say we usually have a run on beekeeping material. If you could have it back to me in a day or two?”

“No problem.” Bett glanced at her watch. It was nearing five o’clock. “Are you working late tonight, Mr. Hines?”

“Not tonight.” He moved behind the librarian’s desk, searching distractedly for his date stamper. He had never once found it on the first attempt in the whole time Bett had known him. “Tuesdays and Thursdays I stay until nine, but Myra takes Mondays and Wednesdays. Then on Fridays-”

“I wonder,” Bett interrupted gently, “if you would like to come to dinner tonight?”

“Pardon?” The librarian blinked.

“All this time Zach and I have known you, you’ve always been so helpful to us. I can’t imagine why I’ve never asked you before,” Bett said smoothly. “We’re having lamb with a mint sauce tonight. My mother’s staying with us; she makes the most wonderful sponge cake. Wouldn’t you like to come?”

Mr. Hines turned a gentle shade of pink, clearly flustered. “I…I don’t know. I have no way…you see, I walk to work. It never occurred to me-”

“I could drive you out and Zach will bring you back. That’s no problem. You probably don’t like lamb, though,” Bett said sadly.

“I do. I do. I’ve always liked lamb,” Mr. Hines said nervously. “I never meant to imply I didn’t like lamb-”

“You don’t like sponge cake with marshmallow frosting?”

“I do. Or I suppose I do. Honestly, it isn’t that. I just…”

Mr. Hines just didn’t like to make decisions quickly. Another customer approached; he stamped three books with the wrong date and then did them over, glancing up twice at Bett. Honest-I have nothing painful in mind, her eyes told him affectionately.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised as two more people came up with their books. She hustled into the rest room to use her cell in private. “Mom, do we have enough for one extra for dinner?” Not that she needed to call. Her mother was a big fan of leftovers. Bett thought wryly that she could have brought an impromptu army to dinner and there still would have been food left over.

“Of course. Who is it?” her mother asked.

“Theodore,” Bett answered. “Theodore Hines. The librarian in town; he’s a wonderful old friend of ours.”

“Well, fine. Theodore-you call him Ted?”

Bett tapped the phone with the tip of her nail. “Um. Actually, we’d better stick with Theodore. Be home in a little bit, Mom.”

When Bett very gently herded Mr. Hines out of the pickup twenty minutes later, he was still flustered and apologizing for nothing that Bett could figure out, clearly bewildered at being offered a home-cooked dinner. He nearly balked again when he saw Sniper sitting on the seat; Bett resisted the urge to pat his fanny up into the truck before he could get away. He kept his hands folded meticulously in his lap four inches from the cat as she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home.

“You’re absolutely positive this is going to be no bother?”

“Absolutely positive. My mother’s name is Elizabeth,” she mentioned, and rapidly turned to other subjects. Getting Theodore to relax was all uphill work. Shakespearean sonnets helped, and so did a discussion on medieval music. By that time, the librarian was doing all the discussing, since Bett knew absolutely nothing about the subject, but she’d moved from Mr. Hines to Theodore. A massive breakthrough.

And just in time. They were edging over the last hill before the driveway that led to the house. The sun was just squinting over the horizon in a blaze of orchid and fuchsia hues that for no reason at all made Bett think of making love with Zach.

Zach, as it happened, was pulling into the drive just ahead of her. She frowned absently, noting the outline of a head in the passenger seat of his truck. The last thing she needed at the moment was another visitor just before dinner. Red Hornack stepped out of the vehicle, laughing heartily at something Zach had said, as Bett turned onto the gravel and parked next to them.

Red owned the local feed store. He was a big, blustery, good-humored man with a fluff of red-gray hair on top of his head. He had half a dozen grown children, and had lost his wife a few years back. Bett and Zach knew him vaguely, having stopped in from time to time; he carried rabbit food and salt licks and wild bird seed, the kind of thing Bett couldn’t buy for her wild creatures in the grocery store.

Mr. Hines stiffened the moment he saw Red. Bett patted his hand reassuringly. “You know Red Hornack?” she asked lightly, and frantically tried to catch Zach’s eye as she bounced out of the truck.

“Come in, come in,” she urged the librarian.

“Little Bett!” Red boomed, and zeroed in for a rib-crunching hug.

As soon as she’d recovered, she grabbed Theodore’s arm and dragged him toward the door, beaming radiantly at Red. “We haven’t seen you in an age-”

“Well, I’ll tell you now, I just never expected an invite to dinner this night. Always thought the world of you two kids, always did. Miss my own; they’re strung out all over the country these days…”

Ah, yes. Inside the door, she took Theodore’s suit coat and Red’s faded denim jacket. Both men suddenly looked equally ill at ease, glancing around. Bett had only a moment to glare furiously at Zach before she took their arms and led her little lambs in toward the slaughter. “Mom?” she called out brightly.

Elizabeth peered out of the kitchen, her jaw dropping only slightly at the Mutt-and-Jeff duo. Her hostess’s smile instantly replaced a look of pure shock. She marched forward when her hand stretched out, a pink flush of shyness on her cheeks matching the ruffled powder-pink shirtwaist with its bright green sash. “I’m so glad to meet Bett and Zach’s friends. You’re…Theodore.” She had no trouble choosing the right hand to shake. “And you must be Red.” Her hand was pumped a mile a minute. Elizabeth glanced bewilderedly at her daughter. “Dinner will be ready in just about ten minutes, if that’s all right with everyone?”

“I’ll get drinks.” Bett noted that Zach seemed to be finding his open-throated shirt tight at the neck. Very strange. Red wanted a beer, from the can was fine; Mr. Hines preferred a light cream sherry.

The Monroe household stocked neither. Zach managed to come up with the last of the previous year’s honey wine while Bett discussed the forecast and seated their guests in the living room. Elizabeth had defected to the kitchen. After five minutes, Bett excused herself-just for one short minute-to powder her nose.

The downstairs bathroom was already occupied. Zach had his hands on his hips, a disgusted expression on his face, as he pushed the door closed with his foot. “You could at least have called home and told me you were bringing someone home tonight.”