When Love Came to Town
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Which only reminded her that she did not have her own lantern. But she held the panic at bay, determined not to show Mick her humiliating weakness.
Instead, she watched gladly as he trudged up the small incline, right behind her. He stood there a minute with his hands on his hips, then lifted his head to the sky. His silhouette was highlighted by grayish-blue moonlight, casting him in a dreamlike state.
Maybe she was dreaming. She still couldn’t understand why she’d taken Mick’s hand and allowed him to guide her out into the darkness. She’d only met this man early this morning, under the strangest circumstances, and now she’d walked through the moonlight with him. It had been a while since she’d been alone with a man. And she’d never brought anyone other than family out here to the river—and even then only in broad daylight. Usually their guests wandered around on their own, leaving Lorna to do her work.
What’s wrong with me? she wondered now as she watched Mick through the veil of moonlight and shadows.
Her emotions were raw from the storm, her nerves were like stretched, tangled wires curling tightly through her body, and yet, for some obscure reason, she almost felt safe with Mick Love.
Even in the dark.
“Listen to the water,” he said, his head down. “All that undercurrent, all that power. I’ve always been fascinated by nature.”
“Is that why you decided to become a tree expert?”
“Probably. As I told you earlier, I loved getting lost in the woods when I was a child. There wasn’t much else to do around the house, so I’d take off for hours on end, just roaming around, exploring, playing make-believe.”
Lorna could understand that. “When we first came here, I did the same thing. Lacey and I would wander around the house, pretending we were princesses lost in a castle. When I saw this house and the land surrounding it, I thought I’d found a secret garden. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.”
Mick turned then, to look back at the big house looming in the distance. “It’s a beautiful spot.”
“A safe haven,” she replied without thinking.
The image of the great house glowing with yellow lights beckoned her, reminding her that she was safe here. It was an image that caused motorists to slow down and stop, inspired artists to keep painting, enticed photographers to take one more picture. From the narrow road, the house came into view around a winding curve, always catching admirers by surprise.
Lorna still slowed down herself to glance over at the panoramic view of the square, pink-walled house with the massive white columns sitting back behind the oak-lined driveway. And it still took her breath away.
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