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“Survey maps made it look like this could be a good path to a build site for the mall,” I say. “Take this road through the cut, and then there’s a flat sort of hollow between the mountains where that mall could sit all pretty, like the treasure at the end of a trail.” I frown, narrowing my eyes as I survey the terrain. “But I don’t think it’s wide enough for a two-lane road. I doubt I can get zoning rights to cut deeper into the mountains to widen it.” I glance at her. “Besides, we’ve got a bigger problem.”
Libby tenses, waiting for the worst.
Makes me think of a woman with a guillotine hanging over her head.
There’s something in her eyes that says she’s waiting for me to break her, but I don’t know what she’s expecting to hear.
“What’s that?” she asks carefully.
I gesture toward the land around us.
“All of this is your space. Looks like the road used to run through here, but it was tilled over a long time ago. To get here, we’d have to run a two-lane road right across your property. Even if we just do a sharp cut off the main highway on the very corner…it’s still going to chew into your space. And we’re trying not to do that any more than we have to.”
“At all,” she corrects sharply, straightening, then stalking to stand between me and that brush-covered gate like a tiny human wall of packaged fury. “You’re trying not to do it at all, remember? Because you agreed that once you saw this wasn’t gonna work, you’d buzz off.” She gestures at the mountain pass. “And that’s my property, too. Don’t talk about it like it’s already yours, and I’m just a speed bump in the way.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Meant?” she flares, her jaw jut out stubbornly. The tips of her fingers twitch like she’s just itching to throw a couple punches. “That’s the funny thing. People say what they mean when they don’t mean to. I know damn well what you meant.”
So much for the cease-fire.
We’d gone from hitting each other with poison arrows to hitting each other with Nerf bats.
Now it’s open season on me again.
I don’t get why the fuck she’s so angry.
Or why she even let me come out here, when it’s clear she doesn’t want me poking around—doesn’t want me to be here at all.
Oh.
God damn.
That’s what this is about, isn’t it?
She never had any intention of even considering my offer.
She just wanted to get me to agree that once I saw the logistical barriers, I’d fuck off and never come back.
Clever.
She’s trusting I’ll actually keep my word.
That I have some shred of personal honor, and despite my reputation, I’m sincere about aiming for a reset.
Damn Libby Potter for being right.
And double damn me for wanting to live up to the tiny crumb of faith she’s put in me in her own angry, messed up way.
“Okay, Libby,” I say, meeting her glare head-on with my own eyes narrowed. I’m not getting in a confrontation with her over this and stabbing her buttons even more. “Okay. You win. No more deals.”
The look she gives me might as well scream liar. Then her face softens a tad.
“You…you mean that?”
I smile faintly, though I’m not really feeling it.
“Yeah. That was the agreement, right?” I hold out my hand. “Let’s shake on it.”
After a wary moment, she steps closer and slips her hand into mine.
I’ve never touched a woman whose hands were almost as work-worn as mine, her palm hardened and the fingertips calloused, but the flesh is soft and her fingers still delicate and pretty.
A strong hand, one that’s earned its strength by knowing when to be gentle and when to be firm.
There’s also equal caring and toughness in her grip.
And something about it makes the respect building inside me for Liberty Potter cement even deeper.
I’m also a good boy—no seductive strokes of my thumb, no little tickle against her palm. I just clasp her hand and give it a firm shake, then let go.
She pulls back, almost like she’s surprised I didn’t try something filthy, pulling her hand against her chest.
Libby gives me another strange look, then turns away and reaches for Frost’s reins, gently pulling him away from slurping at the pump before bending to shut it off.
“Come on,” she says quietly. “Let’s take them back before they get all sun-sick from drinking so much in this heat.”
I oblige by stealing Plath’s reins and mounting up.
But I can’t help but notice as she climbs Frost’s back, she looks back.
Libby stares down that old deserted road with a pensive expression on her face.
Finally, she sends Frost trotting past, and I nudge Plath into gear to catch up.
My lips arc down into a slow frown.
There’s something else down that old road, I think.
