This is what they do. This is what they give.
As she spoke—thought—the form began to disintegrate. Flesh melted away to bone until what sat in the chair was a skeleton that rocked in rags.
Then even that was gone.
“Please tell me you saw that.” Hayley’s voice trembled. “Heard that.”
“Yeah.” With his hand firm on hers, he drew Hayley across the room to the crib. “Warmer here. Feel it? It’s warm around the crib.”
“She’s never done anything to scare Lily. Still, I don’t want to leave, go down again. I’d just feel better if I stayed close tonight. You can tell the others what happened?”
“I can bunk up here tonight. Take one of the guest rooms.”
“It’s all right.” She arranged Lily’s blanket more securely. “We’ll be all right.”
He tugged her hand, gestured so that she went back out into the hall with him. “That was a first, right?”
“A definite first for me. It’s going to give me nightmares.”
“You sure you’re going to be okay?” He touched his hand to her cheek, and it flitted through her mind that was another first. They were standing close, her hand in his, his fingers on her cheek.
All she had to do was say, no. Stay with me.
And then what? She could start something, and ruin everything.
“Yeah. It’s not like she’s mad at me or anything. No reason to be. We’re good, we’re fine. You’d better go down, fill the others in.”
“You get spooked in the night, call. I’ll come.”
“Good to know. Thanks.”
She slid her hand out of his, eased back, and slipped into her own room.
No, Amelia had no reason to be mad at her, Hayley considered. She had no boyfriend, no husband, no lover. The only man she wanted was off-limits.
“So you can relax,” she murmured. “Looks like I’ll be going solo for the next little while.
three
HE HUNTED HER up the next day, mid-morning. But he had to be sly about it. He knew her well enough to be sure if she thought he was trying to help, to get her mind off things, to give her any sort of break, she’d brush him off.
Hayley Phillips was the original I’m-fine-don’t-worry-about-me girl.
Nothing wrong with that, Harper thought. In her place, a lot of women would have been happy to take advantage of his mother’s generosity, or at least to take that generosity for granted. Hayley did neither, and he respected that. He could admire her stand—to a point. But plenty of times, to his mind, that point tripped over into just mule-headed stubborn.
So he kept it casual, even when he had to poke into two greenhouses, work his way to the main building before he found her setting up a new display of houseplants.
She was wea
ring one of the nursery’s bib aprons over black camp shorts and a V-necked tank. There was damp soil on the apron, and on her forearm. Only repressed lust could be responsible for him finding it so absurdly sexy.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Not too bad. Had ourselves a little run on dish gardens. Customer just came in and bagged five as centerpieces for her sorority reunion lunch. And I talked her into taking the sago palm for her own sunroom.”
“Nice going. Guess you’re busy then.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Not too. Stella wants to make up more dish gardens, but she’s tied up with Logan, which isn’t as sexy as it sounds. Big job came in, and she’s locked him in the office until she gets all the details for the contract. Last I walked by, he wasn’t all that happy about it.”