“There’s Rina,” Jenna said.

Rina, wearing civilian clothes—black jeans, a white shirt, and black motorcycle boots—stood by a long trestle table covered with a bright red and white checkered tablecloth talking to a buxom brunette in a shiny black vinyl skirt. A big aluminum tub of crushed ice with beer bottles standing out like fence posts in a winter field squatted on the table next to platters overflowing with sliced ham, turkey, and roast beef, and baskets of bread.

“Feel like a sandwich?” Gard asked.

“I don’t think so. But I’d love something to drink.” Jenna brushed the sweat off her cheeks with her fingers. “Alice was right. It’s hot in here.”

“Wait until later.”

Gard plucked two dripping longnecks out of the tub, handed one to Jenna, and left a ten in a pile of bills on the table. She twisted off the cap and took a long pull just as Rina skirted the crowd and slipped in next to them.

“Not working tonight?” Gard asked.

Rina’s gaze dropped to Gard and Jenna’s linked hands, then rose back to Gard’s. “Believe it or not, I’m completely off duty. Good to see you both.”

“Hi, Rina,” Jenna said.

“Your houseguest still with you?” Rina asked.

“Alice? Yes. I tried to talk her into coming tonight, but I’m not sure I sold her—”

“Appears that you did.” Rina tilted her chin in the direction of the door. “She just walked in. With a date, it looks like.”

Jenna checked over her shoulder and waved until Alice saw her. “Not a date, a friend and business associate.”

“Huh,” Rina said, tracking Alice through the crowd. “How are things coming along out at the house?”

“Fine,” Jenna said. “I love the place.”

Rina gave her a long look. “It’s a damn fine farm.”

“Yes, it is.” At that moment, Alice and Diane, both in jeans, T-shirts, and boots with heels quite a bit higher than Jenna’s, arrived. Jenna made introductions.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Bleeker,” Rina said, shaking Diane’s hand. She grinned at Alice. “I was hoping you’d make it tonight.”

“Really,” Alice said with a speculative smile. “You’ll have to tell me why, later.”

“I’ll do that.”

Alice grasped Jenna’s elbow. “Diane took a quick look at a few of Elizabeth’s paintings. She thinks my idea for a book signing and art exhibit is a good way to judge local interest. I’ll make some calls in the morning, but I think I can set something up in Bennington almost anytime.”

“Thanks. It’ll be good promo for my new release.” Jenna said to Rina, “Diane is an art dealer. She came up to look at Elizabeth’s paintings.”

“Really? Paintings.” Rina frowned. “I didn’t know she did that.”

“Apparently, no one did.”

“Well, if you do a book signing, be sure to let me know.” Rina grinned. “I’m a fan, remember? I know quite a lot of folks who are.”

“I’ll see to your invitation personally,” Alice cut in.

“Counting on that,” Rina said.

“Save me a dance tonight,” Alice said with a last look at Rina before hooking her arm through Diane’s. “And now, let’s go hunt up something to drink.”

The music provided by two guitar players, a fiddler, and a drummer switched to a slow ballad and couples, young and old, congregated in front of the makeshift stage to dance. Jenna glanced at Gard and lifted her brow. “Well?”

Gard gave a little bow. “Would you care to dance?”

“I most certainly would, thank you.”

Gard made yet another path through the laughing, jostling people to the dance floor and swung Jenna into her arms. Jenna’s arms came around her neck and Gard clasped her waist. Their legs slid together as naturally as their fingers interlocked when they held hands. Gard rested her cheek against Jenna’s temple and led her into a slow, easy waltz.

“You’re a good dancer,” Jenna whispered against Gard’s throat.

“A bit out of practice,” Gard said, stealing a quick kiss. She stroked Jenna’s back as they swayed in the crowded space. Holding Jenna made it practically impossible to think about anything, not when blood rushed through her head and her loins with equal intensity. Just the same, despite the haze of arousal, she kept hearing Rina saying she wanted to go to Jenna’s book signing. A public event. Cassandra Hart in a local appearance. Jenna had said she loved her. Jenna was willing to risk her heart and maybe her career. Jenna had never pressed about her past, hadn’t asked for anything at all, not even if Gard had any feelings for her. Jenna had taken all the chances, and what had Gard given her? Nothing. She’d taken what she shouldn’t have, because like always, she was selfish. She skimmed her hand over the back of Jenna’s neck and into her hair, cradling her head as she kissed her again. The lights were low in the barn, but anyone watching could have seen them.

Jenna moaned softly and pulled away. “Sweetheart, I can’t resist you, and this might not be the place…”

“I know,” Gard said, her throat tight. “I just need you. Jenna, I need you.”

“Oh,” Jenna whispered, brushing away a stray lock of hair that had fallen over Gard’s forehead. Her fingers were trembling. “You need only ask.”

“You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“Don’t I?”

“No, but you should. I’m not who you think I am, Jenna. I can’t tell you what it means to me that you love me. It means…everything. But…” Gard took a breath and wondered if she could make up for the past by doing the right thing now. “My life and yours, they’re worlds apart. And I’ve done things, things I’m not proud of. Things that could hurt you.”

The music ended and dancers dispersed. The overhead lights dimmed further, and Gard welcomed the camouflage of near darkness. Maybe Jenna wouldn’t be able to read the uncertainty in her eyes. She kept her voice steady and sure. “I thought we agreed we’d keep this simple and uncomplicated. Temporary.”

“I haven’t asked for anything else.” Jenna sounded calm but her pulse raced in her throat.

“No, you haven’t. And that’s good, because there can’t be anything else.” Gard let her arms drop away until she was no longer holding Jenna. The loss of the connection was as painful as an amputation, and her stomach cramped so hard she nearly winced. “I think we need to slow things down. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Jenna spoke softly, her eyes unwavering, and unaccusing.

Gard hated herself for what she’d done. Then. Now. “I knew going in I couldn’t give you…”

“I already told you, I’m not asking.”

“But you should be. Just not with me.” Gard saw the hurt Jenna tried to hide and it killed her to know she was hurting her. The self-loathing she usually kept at bay washed through her with such force she felt wrong just standing there. Just being anywhere near Jenna.

“Jenna, I have to go.”

“Gard? Gard, don’t do this.”

Gard swung around so abruptly she nearly stumbled into Alice.

“Hey? Get an emergency call?” Alice asked, lifting her plastic cup of wine out of Gard’s path.

“You should get her to go home, Alice. Away from here. Away from me.”

“What?” Alice looked from Gard to Jenna, her forehead creasing.

“Gard, damn it.” Jenna grabbed for Gard’s hand but Gard slipped away. She lost sight of her almost instantly in the crowd, and pain exploded in her chest.

“Jenna?” Alice asked. “What the hell was that all about? What happened?”

“I might have made a tactical error,” Jenna said softly, the color draining from the room along with the lost joy in her heart.

“Translation?”

“I told her I loved her.” The elation of that moment was bittersweet now.

“Oh. Well. I can see where that might have changed the game a little.”

“Apparently, it ended it.”

Alice squeezed Jenna’s shoulder. “You know, maybe it’s for the bes—”

“Don’t say that.” Jenna didn’t understand what had just happened, but she knew her own heart. “Just don’t say that.”

“Okay, okay.” Alice’s eyes softened. “You really mean it, don’t you? About loving her?”

“I do.”

Alice took her hand. “Then what—”

“I’m not going to let her run away. Not before I know why. Then, if she wants to go—” Jenna fought back the tears. Not now. There would be plenty of time for those later. She drew a breath, steadied herself. “If she doesn’t want me—doesn’t love me, all the way—then none of the rest of it matters.”

“Maybe she just needs a little time. Why don’t we get out of here? You can call her tomorr—”

“No.” Jenna knew she’d never sleep, wondering where Gard was. Knowing she was hurting. “Give me fifteen minutes. If I’m not back by then, don’t wait.”

“Take care of your heart, you hear?” Alice said.

“I don’t think that’s up to me any longer.” Jenna kissed Alice’s cheek, then took the biggest risk of her life.

Chapter Twenty-seven

The crowd outside was even thicker and noisier than when Jenna had arrived. She twisted around clots of laughing people, desperate to reach the road. Finally she broke through onto the dirt lane and ran, chest heaving and lungs burning, up the long slope to the ridge where the truck had been parked. There. There! A dark silhouette up on the knoll, blocking out a patch of sky. Gard’s truck. Still there. Gard was still here.

The vise-like constriction in Jenna’s chest eased and she gulped cool night air. She tasted sweet clover and the tang of fresh-plowed earth, and beneath that, hope. Gard hadn’t left. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had, Jenna would have found her. Followed her home, to the clinic, to the farms—anywhere, everywhere. She wasn’t letting her go until she had answers. If Gard didn’t love her, didn’t want her, she would have no choice but to walk away. She’d hurt, oh God, how she’d hurt, but they would at least have the truth, and not secrets, between them when they parted. She deserved that. Gard deserved that too.