“Did the law find him?”
“No.”
He laughed derisively. “Ain’t that the way of it. They send me to prison, and they let a man who murdered three people go free. You gotta wonder about the justice system sometimes.”
She had wondered about justice a lot in the passing years, wondered if it even existed.
“Is that why you let the barn go to ruin?”
Once again, his insight surprised her. She nodded. “I can’t stand to go inside.”
“You went inside last night, looking for me.”
She felt the warmth suffuse her cheeks. “Because I was worried about you. My mother always got after me because I worry more about others than I do about myself. She said it would get me into trouble someday. I’ve thought about burning the barn, but I’m afraid I’d set the whole hillside ablaze.”
“Imagine your brother’s friend would have helped you with that.”
“Dewayne is sweet and he means well, but sometimes he does or says things without thinking of the consequences.”
“He seems to care for you.”
“He was the one who found us. I’d probably be dead if not for him.” She turned away, the bitter memories bringing forth images of soul-searing pain. A warm, gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked into blue eyes that reflected not only a pain equal to hers, but an absence of dreams. Each had suffered as the result of a killing, and she couldn’t help but believe that he was as much a victim as she was. Neither had escaped unscathed. “It wasn’t your doing.”
“No, it wasn’t, but making you remember was.” He removed his hand from her shoulder and heaved a sigh. “So now I owe you more than I did before. There’s gotta be something around here that I can do for you.”
“Actually I do need something done.”
“Tell me what it is and I’ll do it. I pay my debts.”
He paid his debts. Loree wondered if that was the reason he didn’t seem overly bitter that he’d spent time in prison. He had killed someone. He’d given up a portion of his life. He’d paid his debt.
Now he wanted to repay her. She didn’t think his pride would accept that his company was payment enough. No, he needed a chore. Smiling, she began to walk away, trusting him to follow. She knew the perfect chore for those beautiful long fingers of his.
Chapter 4
Following the woman as she walked past the house, Austin admired more than the gentle sway of her hips. He admired the courage that had allowed her to put her fears and ugly memories aside to come to his aid last night.
More than that, she had overlooked what she knew of his past. He hadn’t received so fine a gift in a good while. Little wonder he had wept in her bed. She possessed a heart that was as pure as the gold of her eyes.
Hell, once he found the man who had stolen five years of his life, maybe he’d search for the man who had killed her family and see him brought to justice.
She came to a halt and flung her arm toward the garden. “Your chore.”
The chore turned out to be no chore at all: plucking red ripe strawberries from her garden and placing them gently in the bucket so they wouldn’t bruise. She had told him that she couldn’t abide the fruit when it was bruised. Based on the fact that she had devoted over half her garden to growing strawberries, Austin figured she had a fondness for them.
Near dusk, she set a quilt beneath a tree and brought out two large bowls. One was filled with washed strawberries. The other with sugar.
She plopped onto the quilt, took a strawberry out of the bowl, rolled it around in the sugar, and popped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes and released a low throaty moan that made Austin want to groan.
Against his better judgment, he stretched out on the quilt beside her and raised up on an elbow. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “There is nothing finer than the first strawberry in spring.”
He disagreed. He could have named a hundred things: her smile, her sun-kissed cheeks, the strands of her hair that had escaped her braid and framed her face like the petals of a dandelion. As a boy, he’d often taken a deep breath before blasting the dandelion petals onto the breeze. Right now, he wanted to blow softly, gently, his breath as quiet as a whisper while it fanned across the nape of her neck.
Digger barreled around the corner of the house. Loree grabbed a strawberry and tossed it into the air. The dog leapt up, his jaws clamping around the ripe fruit. The animal hit the ground and rolled over. Loree laughed joyfully, reminding Austin of the first time he had placed a bow on the strings of a violin. The music had sounded just as sweet because it had been unexpected: something he had created. He found himself wishing he’d been the one to make Loree laugh. Not the stupid dog.
