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Why she was acting that way.
Craaack. The ax slammed into the thick log and split it down the middle. Jack paused, backhanded the sweat from his brow, and realigned the half log.
As he raised the ax again, he heard a strange sound. He paused, listening.
A sweet sound rode the gentle spring breeze, underscoring the gay chirping of the swallows and finches careening overhead. The song was at once familiar and unfamiliar, with a strange stop-and-start rhythm, as if the words had been memorized but never actually heard before. But the voice?ah, the voice?now, that was something he'd never forget.
He turned slowly, knowing as he did that it was a mistake.
Amarylis was sitting on the porch swing, singing Caleb the strangest version of "Rock-a-bye Baby" he'd ever heard. The wistful strains of her song brought a bittersweet smile to Jack's mouth. No wonder the song sounded strange; she'd never sung to her children before.
If only. The thought was there before he could stop it.
sw, ?<
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If only she were really the loving, gentle soul she appeared right now. He thought about the bath, remembering the almost narcotic sense of peace it had given him to be ministered to by her. For a few short moments it had been like the old days, when he'd trusted her with his soul and crawled eagerly into her bed. When he hadn't been afraid.
She looked up suddenly and saw him. Their eyes locked, his narrowed and filled with a longing he couldn't dislodge, hers wide and filled with joy. She smiled brightly and waved him over.
He shouldn't go; he knew that. He should turn his back on her and keep cutting firewood. But he wanted to go. Just this once. The ax slipped from his hand and hit the dirt. Shoving the Stetson higher on his brow, he sidestepped the pile of half-chopped wood and headed toward her.
She was still smiling when he reached the porch.
"Hi," she said quietly, scooting sideways in silent invitation.
He stared at the empty space beside her. Damn, it
looked inviting....
"Have a seat," she said when he didn't move.
He swallowed thickly and forced his gaze to her face shouldn't...."
She smiled. "I won't bite."
The look in her eyes drew him like a magnet, stole his free will. Before he kne
w it, he was climbing the steps and sitting down beside her. The porch swing creaked beneath
his weight.
He stared out across the rolling, sheep-filled pasture, his eyes riveted ahead, his hands balled in his lap.
Silence descended between them. The hot sun bore down on him, seeping through his shirt and dampening his flesh. He waited for her to say something angry and stinging;
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she waited for the same thing. Then they both spoke at once.
"Sure is hot?"
"Nice weather?"
Amarylis burst out laughing. It was a throaty, seductive sound that wound around Jack's vitals. "So," she said, "it seems we agree on the weather, at least."
Jack fought the urge to smile with her. Then the fact that he wanted to smile sunk in and caused a red-hot burst of anger. Damn her for being so good at manipulating him, and damn him for being such a weak-willed fool. He rammed the hat lower on his forehead and lurched to his feet.
