The Backwoods
“She looked up the hill, lit by morning sun, and saw what appeared to be a Squatter family leaving the Point. A ragtag man and woman, plus a child, trudged up the hill toward the main road out of town, carrying sacks of clothes and beaten suitcases.
They’re leaving town. . . .
At the end of the trail she spotted a figure coming her way, a toolbox at the end of one strong arm. She scarcely had a minute to contemplate the idea that Squatters were actually moving away out of fear, and now more of t...his distraction.
Oh, no, not again.
It was Ernie who headed toward her. He smiled and waved.
Patricia had hoped for a nice, leisurely walk by herself, to clear her head. But the instant she saw him . . .
All that sexual tension returned.
Damn it.
He wended up the rest of the trail, the Stanherd house looming in the background.
“Mornin’,” he greeted her.
“Where have you been?”
“I just come from the Stanherd house. Last week Everd asked to borrow my tools to replace some missing shingles, so I thought I’d drop ’em off with Marthe for when he comes back from the boats.”MoreLess
They’re leaving town. . . .
At the end of the trail she spotted a figure coming her way, a toolbox at the end of one strong arm. She scarcely had a minute to contemplate the idea that Squatters were actually moving away out of fear, and now more of t...his distraction.
Oh, no, not again.
It was Ernie who headed toward her. He smiled and waved.
Patricia had hoped for a nice, leisurely walk by herself, to clear her head. But the instant she saw him . . .
All that sexual tension returned.
Damn it.
He wended up the rest of the trail, the Stanherd house looming in the background.
“Mornin’,” he greeted her.
“Where have you been?”
“I just come from the Stanherd house. Last week Everd asked to borrow my tools to replace some missing shingles, so I thought I’d drop ’em off with Marthe for when he comes back from the boats.”MoreLess
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