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Don't think it. Not for a goddamn minute.
But it was too late. He'd already thought it. And he was lost. "You really don't remember how we were ... before?"
"No."
"God help us," he moaned.
She touched him with a butterfly-soft caress. "Only if we help ourselves, Jack."
He stared at her in horror. The old Amarylis wouldn't have thought a statement like that. Not ever. Not even to hurt him. It implied a caring they'd given up on long ago. A commitment that had ended on the day he returned from the hospital.
He backed away from her and spun around, running blindly away.
"Jack!"
Her voice followed him, spurred him to run faster.
He couldn't help himself, goddamn it, he believed her this time. Believed her completely.
It was the most dangerous thing he could imagine.
As Tess watched him run away again, her breath expelled in a tired sigh. Disappointment tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"What has she done to you, Jack?" she whispered into the whistling wind. "What?"
She rested her hoe in the broken, rich-looking soil and
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leaned wearily on its rounded wooden end, her gaze focused on the lonely figure walking slowly toward the barn. With every step he took, the sinking feeling in her stomach increased.
Stop it, Tess.
She shook her head slightly, forcing the frown from her mouth. She'd spent a lifetime dealing with rejection and disappointing setbacks. And she'd be damned if she'd let them beat her now.
It'll just take time, she reminded herself. She almost smiled. Time, fortunately, was the one thing she had plenty of. That, and patience.
Chapter Fifteen
Tess sat back on her heels and studied the supplies laid out on the grass in front of her. There were two pound-sized bags of paint powder, two empty extralarge glass jars, and a can of linseed oil. Sunlight spilled through the leaves of the oak tree and turned the tired old burlap sacks a pale golden hue. Beside her, sprawled in the middle of a huge plaid blanket, Caleb lay quietly.
She shot a quick sideways glance at the small building behind her. Jack was still there, watching her. The knowledge sent a tiny jet of warmth shooting through her?a feeling she studiously tried to ignore. She had a job to do.
Scooting forward, Tess grabbed the largest jar and began pouring in linseed oil with a scientist's precision.
"Are you going to tell me what you're doing or not?"
She didn't take her gaze off the oil splashing in the jar. "Or not."
"Well, I gotta get back t
o the herd."
She waved over her shoulder. "I will, thanks."
"Will what?"
Tess turned and tossed him a bright smile. "Have fun. I always do. Nice talking to you."
