eremy and Lexie were sitting together, cuddled beneath a blanket, staring down at the town below. It was Thursday evening, three days after Jeremy’s return to Boone Creek. The white and yellow lights of the town, interspersed with occasional reds and greens, seemed to be flickering, and Jeremy could see plumes of smoke rising from chimneys. The river flowed black like liquid coal, mirroring the sky above. Beyond it, the lights from the paper mill spread in all directions, illuminating the railroad trestle.

Over the past couple of days, he and Lexie had spent a lot of time talking. She apologized for lying about Rodney and confessed that driving away as Jeremy stood on the gravel road at Greenleaf had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. She described the misery of the week that they’d been apart, a sentiment that Jeremy echoed. For his part, he told her that while Nate wasn’t thrilled with his move, his editor at Scientific American was willing to let him work from Boone Creek, provided he made it back to New York regularly.

Jeremy didn’t mention that Doris had come to visit him in New York, however; on his second evening back in town, Lexie had brought him over to Doris’s for dinner, and Doris had pulled him aside and asked him not to say anything.

“I don’t want her thinking that I was interfering in her life,” she said, her eyes shining. “Believe it or not, she thinks I’m pushy.”

Sometimes he found it hard to believe that he was really here with her; on the other hand, it was hard to believe that he’d ever left in the first place. Being with Lexie felt natural, as if she were the home he’d been seeking. Although Lexie seemed to feel the same way, she wouldn’t let him stay at her house, insisting, “I wouldn’t want to give the folks around here something to gossip about.” Nevertheless, he felt reasonably comfortable at Greenleaf, even if Jed still hadn’t cracked a smile.

“So you think it’s serious between Rodney and Rachel?” Jerremy asked.

“It seems that way,” Lexie said. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately. She beams every time he shows up at Herbs, and I swear he blushes. I think they’ll be really good for each other.”

“I still can’t believe you told me you were going to marry him.”

She nudged her shoulder against his. “I don’t want to go into that again. I’ve already apologized. And I’d rather you not remind me about it for the rest of my life, thank you very much.”

“But it’s such a good story.”

“You think so because it makes you look good by making me look bad.”

“I was good.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Yes, you were.”

He pulled her closer, watching as a shooting star skimmed the sky. They sat in silence for a moment.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” he asked.

“That depends,” she said. “What did you have in mind?”

“I called Mrs. Reynolds, and I’m going to check out some houses. I’d like it if you came along. In a place like this, I wouldn’t want to find myself in the wrong sort of neighborhood.”

She hugged him tighter. “I’d love to come.”

“And I’d like to bring you to New York, too. Some time in the next couple of weeks. My mom’s insisting that she have a chance to meet you.”

“I’d like to meet her, too. Besides, I’ve always loved that city. Some of the nicest people I’ve ever met live there.” Jeremy rolled his eyes.

Above them, thin strands of clouds floated past the moon, and on the horizon, Jeremy could see a storm approaching. In a few hours, the rains would come, but by then, he and Lexie would be sipping wine in her living room, listening as the raindrops pelted the rooftop.

In time, she turned toward him. “Thank you for coming back. For moving here . . . for everything.”

“I had no choice. Love does funny things to people.”

She smiled. “I love you, too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What? You’re not going to say it?”

“Do I have to?”

“You bet you do. And use the right tone, too. You have to say it like you mean it.”

He grinned, wondering if she would guide his “tone” forever. “I love you, Lexie.”

In the distance, a train whistle sounded, and Jeremy saw a pinprick of light in the darkened landscape. Had it been a foggy night, the lights would soon be appearing in the cemetery. Lexie seemed to follow his thoughts.

“So tell me, Mr. Science Journalist, do you still doubt the existence of miracles?”

“I just told you. You’re my miracle.”

She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment before reaching for his hand. “I’m talking about real miracles. When something happens that you never believed possible.”

“No,” he said. “I think there is always an explanation if one digs deep enough.”

“Even if a miracle were to happen to us?”

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and he looked at her. He could see the reflection of the town lights flickering in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

She took a deep breath. “Doris shared some news with me earlier today.”

Jeremy watched her face, unable to grasp what she was saying, even as her expression shifted from hesitant to animated to expectant. She gazed at him, waiting for him to say something, and still his mind refused to register her words.

There was science and then there was the unexplainable, and Jeremy had spent his life trying to reconcile the two. He dwelt in reality, scoffed at magic, and felt pity for the true believers. But as he gazed at Lexie, trying to make sense of what she was telling him, he found his old sense of surety slipping.

No, he couldn’t explain it, and in the future, he never would. It defied the laws of biology, it shattered his assumptions about the man he knew himself to be. Quite simply, it was impossible, but when she gently placed his hand on her stomach, he believed with sudden, euphoric certainty the words he never thought he would hear.

“Here’s our miracle,” she whispered. “It’s a girl.”