or if that even matters when I feel so very alive.
I put the plate in the sink, surprised when he washes it, along with his, and sets it in the rack to dry. I watch a drop of water roll down. Everything’s syrupy slow. The way he turns and leans his hips on the counter, the way he watches me, so clearly trying to read me, I almost want to laugh.
And then I do, ’cause if I can’t figure myself out, the man’s not going to get there.
“What’s funny?”
“You. Trying to see into my brain.”
“Might help things if I could.”
“I’m not so sure of that, actually.” I make a face at him. “I’m kind of incomprehensible.”
“Okay.” He folds arms that are thick as hams across a chest wide as a slab of beef. I’d laugh at my comparisons, but I can’t, because I’m suddenly overcome at the image he presents. Forearms sculpted out of muscle and bone, with those short, dark man-hairs I’ve never gotten the chance to touch, biceps he clearly uses every day, and hands that are big and tough, but also scarred. Someone needs to care for those hands. Someone needs to hold them. “Try to explain it.”
I meet his gaze, but have no idea what he’s asking for. “Excuse me?”
“Explain what’s going on in your head. So I get it.”
“Oh. I don’t know if I can.”
“Try.”
4
In between days
Karl
“I told you I’m from the Shenandoah Valley.”
“Yeah. Jerusha of the Valley.” I smirk. She’s so damn cute, with that fluffy cloud of hair framing her face, the big sweater and long skirt that in no way hide the voluptuous body beneath. All of her is an explosion of color—from her clothes to her face, with those blue eyes and auburn brows and brown freckles, pale skin and bright red cheeks.
“Well, you know I’m…” The blush creeps below her high neckline. I brace myself for what she’ll say next. “Inexperienced.”
I nod, unable to keep my mind from returning to that sweet, short, perfect kiss on her porch the other night. I consider how to respond and come up with nothing. Couldn’t get my voice to work right now if I tried.
“I moved here of my own volition. Against my parents’ desires.” She grimaces. “Demands, really.”
“Okay.”
“They’re very religious.” This doesn’t surprise me. There’s something about the way she sits—straight and proper—that says she had an upbringing totally unlike mine. “I grew up praying and reading from the Bible every day. Papa and Mama homeschooled us. We grew what we ate and…” Her hands flutter in an impatient dance. “You get it, right? Papa wasn’t…mean. He was strict. Never hurt me, never yelled, though I know I was a trial.” Her grin is impish. “I love my parents. And they love me. They just had no idea what to do with me. My brothers and sisters are so different. Well, except for Rachel, my little sister. She’d love it here. The others all behaved. Married the right people. Still attend services, you know, have babies and…” She sighs and rolls her eyes. “They don’t want to live in the outside world. They love the community, the farms, the Almighty, which I get. I mean, it’s nice, right? But…” She shakes her head. “Not for me.”
I smile, envisioning her running around, wreaking havoc. Chickens flapping, feathers flying. “Yeah. I can see that.”
“You can?” Those lips. That smile. Fuck me, I don’t think I’ve ever been this charmed in my life.
At my nod, she goes on. “Anyway. I tried. I really did. I did everything like I was meant to, only…nothing came out right, you know? I’d cook and nobody could eat it. I’d recite verses as songs. My quilts were not what they were supposed to be and my knitting, well—” She indicates the wall behind her, where a massive panel of what looks like yarn is hung. Only it’s not knitting the way I’ve seen it before, it’s more like a painting. A landscape, or something, in three dimensions. I stare at it for a few more seconds and suddenly it clears up. Those are mountains, flowing into green, a river. Animals. It looks almost Biblical, now that I see what it is. And it’s sort of…heartbreaking. Which doesn’t make the least bit of sense.
“It’s beautiful.”
She snuffles out an embarrassed little laugh. “It’s not what they meant when they told me to knit a scarf.”
“Damn.” I’m shaking my head, laughing, smiling, bright inside in a way I haven’t been in forever.