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changes her mind and says the word now or any time in the future, I’ll still toss you out on your butt.”

Daniel understood the other man was laying his cards on the table, and he appreciated that.

“You can try,” he allowed equably. A small part of him almost wished the ranch foreman would try. It would give this pent-up energy somewhere to vent.

“Fair enough. There’s another pair of gloves in that bag.”

“Okay.” As he walked back to Luke, pulling on the heavy gloves, Daniel surprised himself for the second time in these past five minutes, by offering, “I could take you up flying sometime, Luke.”

“I might take you up on that.” A slow smile spread across the other man’s face. “I’d like to see what it is you do know how to do. Grab hold here while I use the stretcher.”

Daniel grabbed hold, and for nearly three hours he tugged, held and yanked as ordered. Sweat soaked his shirt, then his chest, back and arms when he took off the shirt. Even his dark skin would feel the bite of the sun, especially across his shoulders.

It felt good, damned good to work his muscles, to sweat, to be physically tired.

But as a remedy to stop thinking about Matthew and Kendra, this little foray into fence-fixing was a total failure.

*

The first time she spotted Daniel out her back window, Kendra nearly spilled her fresh glass of water all over the keyboard of her laptop computer.

She’d gotten up and poured out the old water and replaced it in the hope that new water might somehow translate to a new train of thought. Every stop on the old train of thought had been Daniel Benton Delligatti.

And now there he stood some thirty yards beyond her window.

Actually, if he’d simply stood it might not have been so bad. But he bent and twisted and squatted and stretched. When he took his shirt off, she’d considered for half a minute going out there and demanding that he leave.

Just as quickly, she’d realized what a mistake it would be to let him know how the sight of him affected her.

So, she stayed inside, stubbornly remaining at the table, telling herself she had the self-discipline to get her work done no matter who was outside the window.

When Matthew got up from his nap, she closed the lid of the laptop feeling like he’d brought her a reprieve from the governor. She’d written a grand total of four and a half sentences in two hours.

At least she succeeded in keeping Matthew occupied so he didn’t spot Luke and Daniel outside. There would have been no peace.

Maybe she’d actually get some peace with Daniel going away for a while. If she was lucky he’d stay away.

Even as the thought came, she had to acknowledge that contemplating the possibility of Daniel never returning to Far Hills didn’t make her feel the least bit lucky.

*

Kendra kept so busy over the next six days that she couldn’t be expected to even notice Daniel’s absence, much less come close to missing him.

She worked, did three shifts at the co-op, and took care of Emily two afternoons. She also fed Ben and Meg dinner and oversaw their homework endeavors, leaving Ellyn free to have dinner in town with Fran before going to parent-teacher night at the grade school.

Yes, indeed, she was so busy Daniel Delligatti never would have crossed her mind if other people didn’t keep bringing him up.

Matthew’s queries were direct and delivered each time he arrived at the co-op: “Dan’l?”

“No, Matthew, Daniel’s gone away and he’s not back yet.”

People at the co-op were nearly as direct in asking when Daniel would be back. Not satisfied when she told them she had no idea, they went on to extol his good nature with the kids. Fran, too, followed that routine, then referred to Daniel caring for Matthew the night of the country club dinner as if it were a done deal.

Kendra ignored it.

Marti wasn’t as easy to ignore when she came to pick up Emily four days before the country club dinner.

“About Daniel taking care of Matthew–”

“It isn’t going to happen.”

“When are you going to tell Daniel it isn’t going to happen?”

“I can’t very well tell him now, can I, since he’s not around. Who knows if he’ll even come back.”

“You don’t think he’ll come back?”

“No–yes. I don’t know.”

Marti watched while Kendra took great care in folding Matthew’s undershirt.

“No, I don’t suppose you do know, do you? As you’ve said, he’s a stranger. You don’t really know him.”

Kendra said nothing.

“Or don’t you feel that way anymore?” Marti asked bluntly.

She prepared the words to deny that she’d changed her mind, the words that would reaffirm what an absolute stranger he remained. What came out was, “I know pieces.”

“Pieces?”

I’m all those men. They’re part of me.

“Yes, pieces. Some pieces he’s let me see, and other … fragments have come out.”

“You make him sound like a jigsaw puzzle,” Marti protested with a half smile, as she watched Kendra’s hands repeating the familiar, routine motions of folding Matthew’s next undershirt.

Kendra shrugged. “If so, I’m a long way from putting that puzzle together. And I doubt I ever will, because he’s not the kind to hand over all the pieces.”

Marti’s gaze traveled up to her face. Kendra found herself unable to read her aunt’s expression.

“Ah, but you were always good at putting together puzzles, Kendra, even without the picture to go by. Even when Dale Sinclair had hidden away some of the pieces.”

That conversation rattled around in Kendra’s head at odd moments, driving into town or washing dishes or staring at the computer screen waiting for the right lead on a story to strike her or rocking Matthew when he woke with a bad dream one night.

But a brief exchange with Luke as she arrived home Monday evening with Emily and Matthew from the co-op really got under her skin.

He pulled his pickup in next to where she’d just parked her car, and without any fanfare helped take the

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