Bone Deep Read Free Page B

’ d been too alarmed to register it when he grabbed her arm to keep her from falling from the loft, and t he scent of frying bacon had covered the earthy odor until now. She tried to think of a polite way to offer him a bath.
    “All right. No police.” She set down her cup. “I need to get started on my daily chores. I never did get the hay pitched down for the stock’s bedding. If you’d care to do that...”
    He appeared relieved and nodded . He stood and picked up his empty plate and cup. “Thank you for the food.”
    “You’re welcome. You can put those in the sink.” She watched him move about her kitchen with a sense of astonishment that this was actually happening. This was like a bizarre dream from which she ’ d soon wake. But when Tom turned and looked at her, she knew this was no d ream. She couldn’t imagine a man like him if she tried.
    Sarah led her house guest to the barn and set him to work pitching hay while she took the horse and cow to the pasture. After that , she showed him her vegetable patch and explained which leaves were weeds. She left him working the rows with a hoe and went to the house to start laundry. At the door she sto o d and watched him for a moment.
    Tom seemed totally content in the task--or maybe he was simply used to following orders. He chopped carefully around each plant. The hot sun beat down and after a moment he stopped to remove his shirt and toss it down at the end of a row. T he peacock hue of his skin shone over the rippling muscles of his back and shoulders.
    Sarah ’s stomach fluttered. Yet another wave of heat lightning flashed through her body. Her pulse beat between her legs. She hadn’t felt anything like this since John’s last leave, that time they’d crashed together as if trying to fool themselves into believing they wouldn’t have to part again.
    The memory of her dead husband quickly doused the surge of arousal. She hurried into the house and set about doing her chores.
    Sarah hated laundry day. She supposed she should be grateful John’s father had installed indoor plumbing so she had both hot and cold running water. The update hadn’t taken place all that many years ago. But even with that convenience, scrubbing the clothes, running them through the press, rinsing and running them through a second time, was exhausting. An hour later she emerged from the house with a basket full of sheets and undergarments to hang on the line.
    Over i n the garden Tom was crouched down weeding by hand. She was about to call him to take a break and offer him some refreshment , when the sound of an engine coming up the dirt road caught her attention. A dented, gray pickup truck pulled into the driveway, and when she glanced back at the garden, Tom had disappeared.
    The truck parked in front of the house. Sarah set down her laundry basket on the porch and walked toward it, anticipating another interruption to her quiet life.
    A man with striking silver-streaked black hair and a full moustache got out of the truck. He was tall and thin, dressed in a black suit, shiny with age. He approached her with a smile that seemed somehow more sinister than friendly--maybe because she had a good idea who he was.
    “Good day, ma’am.” He offered Sarah his hand. It was damp and clammy, and she had the urge to wipe her hand on her apron after touching it.
    “My name is Art Reed , owner of Reed’s Entertainments. Maybe you stopped by our show sometime in the past couple of days .” He jerked a thumb in the direction of t he recently departed carnival.
    Sarah folded her arms and tried to appear casual. “Yes, I did. Just last night.”
    “I hope you enjoyed it. T he problem is one of our people has gone missing. I’m canvassing the area to see if anyone has seen him.”
    “Gone missing?”
    Reed shook his head, his moustache drooping as his smile disappeared. “Wandered off most likely. Poor Tom ’s soft in the head and needs to be looked after. We were twenty miles down