Page 13 of Kissing Her Rescuer

Classy.

It intimidated her more than walking through the prison last week.

Everyone invited to the wedding had a front-row seat to see her failure.

It chimed again. This time a type of blue flower.

She'd have to figure it out later. She put her camera back to her eye, framing in the shot she wanted. Designing the wedding decorations would happen right after she finished this story. Maybe.

“If it'sthis hot in June, I'm not looking forward to July and August.” Dewey took off his baseball hat, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. It was more like transferring sweat from one part to the other at this point in the day. “How many more fence posts do we need to replace?”

Nash took a long drink of water, draining the bottle by leaning over and pouring it over his head. “Eighty-seven.”

“I realize it will look nice from the highway, but dang, that's a lot.”

“Tell me about it. I first brought up the idea joking, but then Mom was absolutely set on doing it. The people in the next county were going to charge her an arm and a leg for only the labor.”

Dewey slapped his damp hat back on his head. “Can't imagine why anyone would think they should get paid to do this kind of work.”

“You get paid. Hell. I think I pay you more than I pay myself.”

“I work harder.”

Nash barked out a laugh. “Not likely.” He swatted one of the ten dozen gnats currently buzzing around their heads. “Do you still have my tractor out at your house?”

“Yeah. I got half the property cut last weekend. Need to get to the rest soon before the rain moves back in.”

“No rush. Hey, it's about time for supper. You plan on coming up to Mom's?”

“I do if I want to eat. My mom is there.”

Nash's face fell. “Shoot. It's poker night. And Lexi is off visiting her parents or else I'd go home and beg her to feed me, even if it was just a salad. If they don't have four women there, she'll force me into playing with them.”

“Knowing my mom, she’s cooked enough to feed twenty. She's always on these health kicks at home, but she busts out the bacon and grease if she's cooking for other people.”

“Ms. Clara can sure make those little jalapeno cheese things.”

“Probably made them tonight.” Dewey climbed onto the four-wheeler. “We’ll both go and grab food and try to make a break for it before they start playing. I'll clean up at your mom's house if you don't think she'd mind.”

“Never has before.” Nash led the way to Ms. Peggy's house, cutting between two fields of new cotton.

Dewey spotted his mom’s car with Ms. Tanya’s car parked in the driveway beside their trucks. They walked into a gab-fest already in process.

Dewey stopped at his mom, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You reek, honey,” she said, wiping her cheek with a napkin. “And your face is wet.”

Ms. Peggy grabbed a chip and loaded it with cheese dip. “He's a hardworking man. Go clean up in the hall bathroom. The chicken is almost done.”

“Yes, ma'am. I knew I smelled something amazing.” Dewey snagged a cookie, ignoring his mom's protests about eating it before dinner as he headed down the hall to Nash's old bedroom.

After a quick shower and a hard scrubbing to get most of the red dirt and grit off his skin, he dressed in a borrowed pair of gym shorts. Too bad after a ten-hour day in the field, he couldn't stop sweating long enough to put a T-shirt on yet. He needed a large, cold glass of water.

“Thank you!” Eliza's voice registered the second he stepped out of the bathroom.

Her hands hit his bare chest as they collided in the hallway.

“Ah!” She squealed and stumbled away, her back bumping into the opposite hallway wall and her head knocking against the wood. She grabbed her head and grimaced, a small whimper escaping.

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