Page 12 of A Handful of Heaven


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Stone Man followed Midas. "Just because the place is a little cleaner, Midas, doesn't mean ..." His words ground to a halt. He stopped dead, his eyes widening, scanning the counters. "What the hell? It's supposed to be here."

Devon could hear the rumble of anger in his voice, and she flinched. Some people didn't like change-at first. She figured Stone Man was one of those people. "H-Here it is," she said, pointing to the last row of shelves.

Both men walked over to where she was standing. They couldn't seem to keep their eyes off the perfectly organized, spotlessly clean expanse of shelving that lay between them.

Stone Man stared down at her. His whole face seemed clenched. "What is it doing over here?"

He was going to like it. He was. Once he got used to the system . . .

"Answer me!"

She wet her lips nervously. "Waiting to be purchased."

"What was wrong with the soup waiting where it was?"

"It was hard to find."

"Not to me. Or my customers."

"Well, it'll be easier for everyone from now on."

Stone Man slammed his beefy arms across his chest."And why is that?"

Devon couldn't contain her proud smile. "Because everything is in its place. Alphabetically."

A hoarse laugh shot out of Midas's mouth.

"Alphabetically?" Stone Man's voice was a low growl of disbelief. "You organized my store alphabetically?"

A frisson of discomfort crawled up Devon's spine. Why didn't he look pleased? "Y-Yes. It'll make things ever so much easier," she said, knowing she was beginning to babble but unable to stem her words. She always babbled when she was nervous. "You see, the soup is between the soap and the snow glasses. How could it be any simpler? Of course, it was difficult to decide whether the glasses belonged with the G's or with the S's, but I decided-"

"Most of my customers can't read! They wouldn't know a G if it rose up and bit them on the butt."

Devon's mouth dropped open, and her hand flew up to cover the opening. "Oh, my God, I never thought..."

"Get out!" The words were a lion's roar.

She forced her chin higher and squared her shoulders. "No. I made the mistake, and I'll rectify it. All I have to do-"

"Now."

"No."

His cheeks reddened. His eyes bulged. In one move he swept Devon into his arms and barreled for the tent flaps. "Stay here, Midas," he flung her over his shoulder. "I'll be right back."

Midas cackled gleefully. "Okay, Stoneyman. I'll start writin' the ABC's on the walls while you're gone."

Devon kicked and screamed in his arms as he lumbered across Front Street. At their tent he snagged the latchstring in his big hand and yanked. The door flew open, hitting the side support beam with a resounding thwack as he barreled through.

57

She pummeled his hard chest with her fists. "Darn you," she cried, "let me down."

"I'd be glad to."

Before she could find a breath to answer, she was flying through the air like a sack of potatoes. She hit the bed hard, sinking deep into the worn mattress. Dust poofed up from the filthy sheets, stinging her eyes, tickling her nose. She scrambled to her knees, crouching. Every instinct in her body screamed for primal release. She wanted to smack his leering face, to scratch his eerie gold eyes out. Her hands curled into hooks as she glared up at him, her eyes narrowed, angry, her breath coming hard and fast. "You-" she hissed.

He swooped down on her, taking her wrists in his hands. Her words died in a gasp. His hold burned, twisting her fingers until they relaxed. "Don't even think of doing battle with me," he said harshly, his eyes glittering like topaz shards. "I'm not like the men youVe known in St. Louis. I don't follow society's stupid rules." His voice dropped to a hush. "And I step on people who do."

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