84The next morning, Becca awoke in the single bed in the forge's tiny living quarters and froze, not initially recognizing her surroundings. Then Beau slipped his wet nose beneath her out-stretched hand and wagged his stubby tail.
“Just give me a minute, Beau.” Becca crawled from beneath the ancient, tattered quilt and was struck for the first time by the blanket's intricate, yet faded, design. Someone had hand-stitched the quilt in various hues of blue and pink, a mix of squares and stars, a long time ago. Becca wondered if the quilter was Walt's mother or grandmother. If so, artistic talent clearly ran in the family.
She pulled on jeans and a turquoise T-shirt and walked barefoot into the main room as Beau jumped and yipped by her side. When she turned the lock and slid the barn doors
