He came back to sit, took the glass of wine she'd neglected out of her hand and set it aside. "You've proved you can make a good life for yourself and Simon. On your own. Do you have to go on proving it?"

"If I let this happen between us, and you walk away… I'm not brave enough to risk it. Maybe I would be if it was just me. But it's not."

"You don't believe I'm in love with you."

"I believe you think you are, and I know that no one would stop you from doing the right thing. Even if it wasn't right for you. So I'm going to ask you to wait until this month is over, until everything's less romantic and exciting, then see how we are together."

She was holding up a mirror, he thought, reflecting back what was between them to what had been between her and James. He struggled to find some understanding through the resentment. "I want to ask you one thing. Just one. Do you love me?"

"I can't help but love you, but I can help what I do about it."

Chapter Fifteen

She’d gone off in the wrong direction. Zoe was sure of it now. She'd gone back to Indulgence, searched through all three floors alone, cleaned every inch of the attic, stared in the mirror. But she found nothing to guide her. No sudden flash of light or inspiration.

No key.

She'd gone back to her house, and had spent a full hour sitting alone in the living room. Though she felt foolish, she closed the curtains, lit candles and tried to push herself into some state of knowledge or perception.

Instead, she almost fell asleep.

She was tired, frustrated, and irritable, and probably in no state to open herself to intuition.

She decided to go back to the beginning and try again.

She made the arrangements for Simon before she approached Bradley.

He'd been polite since they'd moved into the guest rooms. A little cool, Zoe thought as she walked toward the office he kept in his home. But she couldn't blame him.

She knocked, then eased the door open when he called out to come in.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but… oh." The enormous blueprints tacked up on a display board pulled her into the room. "These are your plans, for the expansion."

"Mmm. Couple of changes yet, but we're almost there. We'll break ground in March, as soon as the weather cooperates."

"You're adding all this to the lawn-and-garden section?"

"Doubling it. Homeowners want trees, shrubs, flowers, and vegetables, and the means to plant and maintain them." He tapped his fingers on his thigh, studying her as she studied the plans. "Then there's garden decor. And this section here will carry several new lines of outdoor furniture."

"It's very ambitious."

"I'll make it work. When something matters, you keep at it until you make it work."

"I know you're angry with me."

"Some. Mostly frustrated. You heading into town?"

"No, not today. I just talked to Flynn. He's going to keep Simon for a while today. He's missing Moe anyway, and Simon won't mind spending most of his Saturday romping around with Flynn and the dog. And I'm… I want to go back to West Virginia, to the woods. To see if I missed something before. I'm telling you because I don't want you to worry or be upset."

"I'll drive you."

"Yes." Her stomach unknotted. "I think that's a good idea. I have a stop to make on the way back, but I need to talk that over with you, too. If we could get started soon, I'd appreciate it."

"Give me five minutes."

"Thanks. I'll go get Simon and Moe together."

When she left, Brad took a hunting knife out of a locked drawer and unsheathed it to test the edge.

* * *

She ordered herself to stay relaxed as they drove out of the Valley. "Um. One of the things I wanted to talk to you about is Thanksgiving. Malory mentioned that you were staying here for the holiday."

"It isn't the time to leave."

"No." Thanksgiving was the day before her deadline. In less than a week, all the sand in that hourglass would have drained. "I wondered if you'd like it if we, all seven of us, had Thanksgiving together at your house. Malory's dining room isn't ready yet, and yours is bigger anyway. I could handle the cooking, and—"

"Yes." He reached over, touched a hand to hers. "I'd like that very much. If you're handling the cooking, I'll take the gathering. Make me a shopping list."

"That'll help. There's not much time."

He looked at her, understanding perfectly. "There's time enough." "I'm holding on to that. There's another thing I thought you might help me with. I want to go by the pound, pick out a pup for Simon. After Thanksgiving, after… everything's over, I can go get

it. They said they'd hold one for me for a week."

"Why not just take it now?"

"Oh, that'll be fine—a boy, a huge dog, and a new puppy running around your house. A puppy who'll pee on your rugs and chew everything that isn't nailed down. We'll wait till we're home again."

"Logical," Brad said, and let it drop.

She directed him off the main road, along the winding ones, and asked him to park beside the field as she had done before.

"It's beautiful country."

"It is." She stepped out of the car and into brisk air that immediately pinkened her cheeks. "I love the hills. I never wanted to live anywhere that didn't have hills. And trees."

She ducked under the fence. "I played in those woods there when I was little, and I used to sit in them and dream when I was older."

"What did you dream of?"

"Oh, all the places I'd go, the things I'd see, the people I'd meet."

"Boys?"

"Not so much. Or not as soon as most girls, I guess. I used to think if there was one thing I wasn't going to do it was get myself tied down to a man and a bunch of babies so I'd never do or have anything special. Maybe Mama was right to be smug."

"No, she wasn't."

"I was just so sick of taking care of my sisters and my brother, of helping to run things. Worrying about bills and how to make a meal stretch. By the time I was twelve the last thing on my mind was boys or weddings or babies. I didn't even play with dolls."

He took her hand as they approached the trees. "What did you play with?"

"Tools and paints. I liked to fix things. I gave my dolls to Joleen and Mazie. There wasn't any point pretending to take care of somebody when I already was. Oh, God, I wanted out of here. I wanted out, so bad, Bradley, then when James came around—I didn't hope to get pregnant. But… I'm not sure I didn't figure somewhere in my head that it had to be a man and babies after all, and that was the only way I was going to get out and get more."

"What if it was?" He stopped as they reached the edge of the trees. "What if it was, Zoe? You were sixteen."

"I'm not anymore, and I want you to know that I don't look at you and think you're a way I can get more." She gripped both of his hands, hard. "I need you to know that before we walk through these woods."

"I don't think that. Hell, I can hardly get you to take more when I knock you over the head with it." To soothe them both, he lifted her hand, pressed his lips to it. "But I'd take it from you. I want more from you."

"If I could give it to anybody, it'd be you." She wrapped her arms around him, pressed close. "You're the best man I ever met in my life, and that's what scares me most."

"It's about time you let me worry about myself."

"A few more days," she murmured, then pulling back, took his hand again and walked into the woods.

"I saw the white buck on the way through," she told him. "But nothing else. It felt good to walk here again. Peaceful. Simon was conceived in here. It's a good place, an important place for me."

"For both of us, then."

She walked the way she'd walked before, but there was no white buck, and no sense of import. When they came to the edge where the gravel began, she stopped again.

"I've got to go over and see my mother. You don't have to come."

"You don't want me to meet her?"

Staring at the trailers, she blew out a breath. "Maybe you'd better. Saturday's a busy day for her. She'll probably have customers, so we won't stay long."

He saw some children playing on a rusted swing set, and a Doberman mix tethered by a thick chain that barked at them as if it'd already tasted blood. From a trailer to the left came the sounds of voices raised in a vicious argument. And to the right, a little girl was perched on a rickety step, singing her baby doll to sleep.

She looked up and offered Bradley a slow and beautiful smile. "Time for Cissy's nap," she told him in a whisper.

He crouched, angling his head around to look at the doll. "She's very pretty."

"She's my sweet baby girl." As she spoke, the door opened behind her. A young woman stepped out, a dishrag in her hand and a cautious look in her eye.

"Can I help you?" She laid a hand on the little girl's shoulder.

"Just admiring Cissy," Brad said.

"I'm Crystal McCourt's daughter, Zoe." Understanding the mother's caution, Zoe stepped up to touch Brad's arm. "We're just dropping by to see her."

"Oh." She relaxed visibly. "Nice to meet you. You gave me a start, is all. Chloe knows she's not supposed to talk to strangers, but she can't seem to help it. She trusts everybody. Tell Mrs. McCourt I said hey, and thank her again for cutting Chloe's hair so nice."

"I will." As Zoe walked away, she heard the woman say, "Come inside with Mama, sweet baby girl."

"Some people make a good life here," she said quietly. "They plant little container gardens and have picnics in the summer."