Page 79 of Swamp Kings 1

He looked at the paper, noticing the handwriting first. Print, not cursive, thank fuck. He was never good reading the fancy ABC’s. He was impressed with her print, though. The lettersreminded him of an army of warriors, all solid, perfect sized, and standing in a row of such precision it might have sent a ripple of pride through his nether regions.

“Our new job is here in the South Swamp,” she said. “So I’ll be residing wherever they place me.”

“In my Hatch,” he proposed as he finally read her suggestion that was in the form of a very simple contract.

Two hours of training per day. First hour—spiritual training. Second hour—physical training. To be conducted together in a single session, six days a week. The Lord’s work on the seventh.

In God’s Grace,

Sincerely,

Sister Scarlett.

So few words. That ability alone was promising for…. hell, everything.

“What about your Hatch?” she asked, her voice careful.

He regarded her, not understanding.

“You said ‘In my Hatch’.”

“I mean you in my Hatch would make training easier for both of us.”

She missed a few beats then recovered. “I’ll haveto speak to my superior—”

“I’ll do that,” he said, ready to assist in something. “Who would I need to speak to?”

Her brow melted in consideration before the little pucker returned. “I’m not sure now that I think about it.”

Instant honesty. Nice. Humility. Good.

“The Quantum King or Dr. Harlow is my thought,” she said.

“I’ll let you know when I arrange it.” He wondered then, “Do you have a phone?”

Her bright gray eyes met his with her stern, “Yes sir, I do.”

Respect. Good.

Flawless skin. Too pretty for the harsh swamp.

“I’ll give you my number or you give me yours so that you’re not having to travel half the swamp just to reach me.”

Her stern expression cleared instantly. “Oh, it was my pleasure,” she assured with sputtered nods, her smile making a first appearance, throwing a million more details at him about her. “I very much love the outdoors and wanted to see as much as I could. Plus, I need to meet all my new neighbors and I’ve calculated that might take me quite some time.”

“If you plan to visit each one, it’ll take you a year.”

The look of surprise was quickly overtaken with determination. “Whatever it takes then. A year, two years.”

Dedication. Definitely a necessary strength. But for what purpose?

“You plan to visit every last one?”

The question seemed to stump her, and she wondered with mild worry, “Well yes, is… is that going to be a problem?”

He had to chuckle. “For you, yes.” He regarded the swing on the far end of the porch. It was chilly out, but she seemed to be enjoying it. “You want to have a seat on the swing, and I’ll get you a cup of Mah-Mah’s famous dirty water soup?”

His smile spread at the perplexed concern on her face. She glanced at the swing. Then back at him. “I would love a cup, thank you.”

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