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like a good invalid while you’re gone, and then I promise to feel so
well we can finally get out of this blasted room.”
“Deal.” Mussing his brother’s hair as he walked by, Thom
tightened his tie and took the stairs two at a time. He passed no
one on his way out, and was soon in the middle of the main street
of the town. Overpriced stalls to tempt summer vacationers were
placed outside along the walkways. Doubtless there was a way to
buy things for less money, but he didn’t care. If he had to pay twice
what the fruit was worth, he’d do so happily both for his brother
and for being outside.
“And would you like a basket to carry everything in?” The
woman, mid-thirties but pretty in a solid, healthy way, leaned for-
ward. “It’ll look so much nicer.”
Laughing at being conned by a small-town woman, Thom
went along with it. “Well, of course. Can’t have fruit without the
basket.” Beaming triumphantly, the woman loaded the basket
with apples in the bottom and strawberries on top. The strawber-
ries looked a bit anemic — still not the best time for them — but
they’d do just fine. And he could give the basket to Mrs. Johnson
as a gift. Charles was always telling him to pay more attention to
details when it came to women.
Something in the low, cheerful hum of sidewalk noise trig-
gered an instant unease, making his stomach tighten. Looking up
sharply, Thom handed his money to the woman and tried to iden-
tify what was bothering him.
He couldn’t see anything amiss and tried to shrug the sensa-
tion away. Biting into an apple, he walked slowly along, glancing
through store windows to see if anything else might make Charles
happy. He saw some ribbons that reminded him of the ones
Minnie used to hold her hair back, and wondered if it would be
