Page 22 of Immortal Bastard

The males were back to work, harvesting, steering the cattle across the pasture, and driving the plows. Females worked the pump, filling pitchers with cool water as they prepared to deliver the males their cold mid-day meal. Annalise would likely be in the woodshop with Adam, so he headed that way.

As he stepped into the barn he nearly collided with Gracie, who was on her way out. “Gracie.”

“Dane,” she said sharply, then looked away and scowled. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for Anna.”

“She’s not here.”

The wood shop wasn’t a place Gracie usually hung out. “Where is everyone? Are you alone?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Adam’s making me a cabinet for my dishes. I was checking on his progress.”

Amish women had a strange fixation with dishes and clocks. Because such things were functional, he supposed they were one of the few ways they got to show off something that would otherwise be considered fancy.

“Can I see it?”

She huffed but turned back into the barn to show him. Adam's tools were scattered about, but no one else was in the barn.

The cabinet was more of a hutch, tall and wide. He could picture her decorating it with her favorite things and that made him smile.

“It’s nice,” he said, truly admiring Adam’s fine craftsmanship.

She admired the drawers and the paneling with unmistakable pride. It was rare to see her covet such things. He liked the way her fingers traced each detail, touching the raw wood almost sensually.

Her hand fisted and she scoffed. “What is wrong with you?”

“Huh?” Too late, he realized he wasn’t guarding his thoughts.

Shaking her head, she snapped, “I can smell her all over you.” She sniffed and drew back. “And someone else.” When he took a step forward, she mirrored it with a step back. “Don’t.”

He scowled. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Well, you sure thought about it. And with her stench all over you!”

Her words only triggered another vision, this one a memory of Magdalene last night, except he wanted to see Gracie in his bed, so his brain naturally transposed the image. She shoved him and he banged into the hutch, whacking his elbow. “Ow!”

“Pig!” She pivoted and stomped out of the wood shop.

Adam appeared, looking back as his sister stormed off. “I see you two are up to your usual antics. Did you need something?”

Dane sighed. “I need a favor, from your wife.”

He stilled. “What kind of favor?”

“The witch—”

“No.”

“She’s hurt—”

“I said no.”

“They burned her, Adam.”

“She tried to burn my father alive.”

Frustrated, he snapped, “You’re an empath! Where the hell’s your compassion?”

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