Chapter 147

“From the barbarian invasion?”

“They’re great kids, all of them.” He turned her toward him, tall and broad in the low-ceilinged, dimly lit room. “But I’m not in a babysitting mood.”

“Mmm, me, neither.” She gazed up at him, grinning, until the emotion became unbearably strong and she had to look away, nervous and unsettled, as if they’d just met. “This must be your workshop. And that’s the table you’re making?”

“None other.”

Candace walked over to examine it, disturbed by how rattled she was, but impressed by the woodworking. The piece was solidly and skillfully built, spare but graceful with long tapered legs and a single drawer, classic Shaker style. “This is beautiful.”

“Thanks.” He ran his hands over the smooth, flawless wood, and she impulsively yanked his camera out of her purse and snapped a picture, then another when he looked up, startled, and a third when he smiled.

“You’ll e-mail me these pictures in Rosehill?”

His smile faltered.