She opened the door and he fairly took her breath away. With a smile, she leaned against the door jam and murmured, "Why Mister Vaughn, ye brought me flowers. How thoughtful!" she gave a delighted gasp, genuinely surprised by the lovely display of blooms. "Come in, come in... let me put these in water," she offered softly, taking the bouquet assuming he gave it to her, she would allow him in and walk toward the kitchen to get a mason jar to put them in. The calico looked mighty pretty on her, hanging just right upon her form. Motherhood had made its mark upon her curves and the dress fit the form perfectly, neither too saggy, nor too tight, not so clingy everywhere but clingy in the right places.

He might catch the subtle scent of the lavender wafting from her as she moved to and fro. Then she grabbed her Irish lace shawl and pulled it on around her shoulders and gave him a happy smile.