Chapter 28

• The sun dipped slow behind the Lawson barn, pouring gold through the gaps in the old boards until it hit the hood of her mama’s truck and turned that battered old blue to liquid fire.
• Beau was halfway under it — shoulder braced, palm slick with sweat and oil as he wrangled a rusted bolt that refused to mind its damn manners. His shirt stuck to his back where the sun found the gap at the barn door. He’d been cussin’ under his breath for fifteen minutes straight, wrench clanging soft every time he lost the bite on the nut.
• He didn’t hear her at first. Didn’t feel her until the soft pad of her boot scuffed the hay behind him, her shadow falling long across his bent back.