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Blake smiled, a faraway look evident in his brown eyes.

“I was saved when I was nine years old at a Vacation Bible School event one summer. It was right here in Tennessee while I was visiting my grandparents on their twelve-acre property in Ashford.” He paused and tasted some of his biscuit.

“My siblings and I would visit for a few weeks every summer when we were kids. They had some horses we loved to ride. And a creek for fishing and swimming. We always loved coming here. Naturally, I was drawn to the state when I saw the property for Deerpark Cabins.”

“For me, it was at the Methodist church our folks took us to in Manhattan. The same one Blake’s family attended,” Bing explained. “I was a little older than Blake when I gave my heart to the Lord at age twelve. Just in time to save myself from making a lot of mistakes during my teen years.”

Blake grinned. “That’s the truth. Bing’s dedication kept us out of many troubles over the years. Neither of us drank. We didn’t do drugs or any of those things. It was like the Lord protected us.”

Hensley nodded and exchanged glances with her sister.

It seemed as if their dates were honorable men.

Maybe Blake was someone she could fall in love with after all.

But before she could continue pondering the matter, the waitress returned with their plates of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans with ham, corn on the cob, slaw, and three-bean salad.

Bing offered to bless the meal and at the same time, he prayed over their time together while all four of them held hands.

A little while later, their dates purchased a single rose for each of them when someone selling long-stemmed red roses passed by their table. Hensley drank in the fragrance of the rose Blake gave her. Jen smiled too and then gazed in appreciation at Bing.

“Thank you, Blake. You didn’t have to do that ...”

“I wanted to,” he replied, covering her hand with his.

Before she could respond, the lights in the theater dimmed, the velvet curtains parted, and the play began while they ate the feast spread out before them.

They laughed a lot during the performance, especially at the antics of the Bennett sisters, their mother, and the vicar.

The acting was excellent. Hensley was impressed at how easy it was to hear the actors, their line adaptations from the book, and the quality of the sound system .

The waitress refilled their tea and checked on them a few times.

Later, she brought them cups of coffee and plates of warm apple pie or strawberry shortcake for dessert.

During the romantic scenes, Hensley enjoyed that Blake made eye contact with her several times and sometimes put his arm around her.

He and Bing were both attentive, making sure she and Jen had everything they desired.

When the waitress cleared away their plates, Blake held her hand.

When their shoulders or knees brushed, a tingling sensation reminded her of the magnetic pull between them.

During a brief intermission, someone brought them copies of the photos they’d taken earlier.

Blake purchased copies for her and some for himself.

Bing paid for copies for Jen and some for himself too.

They would each leave with a group photo and their respective couple photos.

When the play concluded, they joined the audience in giving a standing ovation for the superb performances. They had been thoroughly absorbed and entertained throughout the evening.

It was dark outside when they emerged from the theater at about ten o’clock.

The fresh evening breeze felt good on their faces, but they were eager to climb back inside the limo so they could head to the surprise that kept Blake and Bing baffled.

They didn’t have far to walk since Blake’s driver had pulled up close to the exit doors.

“Hensley has some instructions for you about our next part of the evening, Wickham,” Blake explained as he removed his tie, giving Hensley a nod of encouragement.

Hensley smiled and stepped up to Wickham, beckoning him aside. She whispered the directions, asking him to drive them to her shop on the corner of Gooseberry Lane and Dogwood Drive in Dogwood Creek.

“Got it. Yes, ma’am.” Wickham saluted her with a smile, tipping his hat .

Sliding into the seat beside Blake, she joined the others in the back of the limo and the driver closed the door. She texted MaryAnne to ensure the surprise was ready since she’d played a role in their plan.

Hensley smiled when her cell lit up with her sister’s reply. “MaryAnne said everything is a go and waiting for us.”

Blake covered Hensley’s hand with his. “I hope you ladies didn’t go to too much trouble.”

“Not at all,” she reassured him. “Any guesses yet as to the surprise?”

He glanced at Bing, who shook his head. Then he turned back to her. “No clue.”

Jen and Hensley smiled at each other, both resisting the urge to laugh.

Jen turned toward Bing. “You’ll see. We think you’ll both enjoy it.”

THIRTY MINUTES LATER , they arrived at Hensley’s Wedding Creations.

Wickham parked and then opened a door for them.

They spilled out onto the sidewalk, and Hensley, with keys in hand, hurried to unlock the boutique.

When they were all inside, she locked the doors again while Jen turned on a few lights inside.

Hensley kept all the blinds closed. It would be more private that way even though they wouldn’t be in the front room.

She led them through the door that led into the stockroom and her sewing area where she took her designs from mere sketches on paper to real life gowns.

She and Jen hung their dress coats on some hooks near the door.

The stockroom was organized with shelving for rolls and bolts of silk, satin, lace, and other fabrics.

A large, square, fabric-cutting island took up much of the space in the center of the room across from her long sewing desk.

Along an empty wall with gold and white wallpaper to their far right and some shelving containing extra items for weddings such as candles and vases, there was plenty of space for dancing.

MaryAnne had brought her record player over and placed it on a stand.

Only it wasn’t a typical record player. Following her, their dates spotted it right away. That couldn’t be helped since it was large and noticeable.

Blake stepped forward, nearing the old-fashioned record player, his brow rising as he took in the shiny copper horn with its raised rose design embellishments. “An old-time Victrola?”

“Is it a phonograph or one of those things they called gramophones?” Bing grinned, following for a closer look.

“Does it use electricity, or do we have to wind a handle?” Blake searched to see if it was plugged in.

Hensley and Jen laughed at the way their dates fired questions in rapid succession, but it was Hensley who spoke up.

“Yes, it’s like a retro-gramophone, except it’s modern.

It’s wired for electricity and it’s even Bluetooth ready.

But see this pile of records?” Hensley patted the pile of records MaryAnne had also brought, and the men nodded.

“This is my grandmother’s private collection.

Many of these songs are from the 1940s.”

Hensley turned the machine on and sorted through the record jackets until she found the one with the “Chattanooga Choo-Choo” by Glenn Miller.

Setting the record on the player, she lifted the needle to the right place.

While she operated the record player, Jen lit two candles and dimmed the lighting.

The music began streaming. When the men heard the words “track twenty-nine” in the first few lines of the song, they grinned and laughed.

Now they understood the hint she’d given them earlier.

“I love big band music,” Blake announced as she stepped up to his side. He wore a wide smile, and his eyes were already dancing. “Would you care to dance, Miss Fitzwilliam?”

Hensley reached for Blake’s hand, pulling him into their first dance.

She used all the moves she’d learned over the years from her mother and grandmother.

Jen did the same, pulling Bing into a dance too.

The boys spun them around, dipped them, and turned them this way and that at all of the best times, or so it seemed.

Hensley enjoyed the fact that they’d either had a few lessons or had seen enough old-time dancing on television to muddle through without much trouble.

When the song ended, Hensley put another record on. “This one is from 1943 and it’s Harry James. I love it because it’s romantic and slow, perfect for dancing. It’s called, ‘I Had the Craziest Dream.’”

She returned to Blake’s side. He pulled her close as they swayed to the music a few feet away from Jen and Bing. Blake clasped her hand, and she leaned her cheek against his strong chest.

How sweet the night was as they danced to Perry Como’s “Prisoner of Love,” Frank Sinatra’s “Five Minutes More,” and “A Little Bird” by Evelyn Knight. “I’ve Got a Gal in Kalamazoo” was another Glenn Miller favorite they played.

They ended the evening with “Time on My Hands” by Peter Knight and His Orchestra, or so the record jacket said, and “I’ll Be Seeing You” by Bing Crosby.

Another Bing ! Hensley bit her lower lip, recalling many past daydreams of her Mr. Darcy.

It seemed as if she was dancing in her Mr. Darcy’s arms.

Would she wake from this daydream? Was Blake for real? Was he her Mr. Darcy?

And judging by the gazes Bing gave her sister, she guessed those two could easily fall in love at any minute.

Would she too fall in love with Blake? Or would they only end up breaking apart after quarreling about her wedding design career and the boutique she managed?

Suspecting she had already begun to fall for him, Hensley bit her lower lip.

Could she risk breaking her heart a third time because this otherwise wonderful man resented the time she spent on her career?

As they continued to dance, she dismissed her concerns for another day. The evening had been too special, and she knew all too well that tomorrow would come soon enough.