Page 40 of One Merciful Moment

The way Boone had looked at her, like he didn't trust what he'd heard. Like he didn't believe she cared. Like he didn't believe she could care.

She pressed her palms against the sink, staring at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed. Her hair was a tangled mess. She still had dirt on her face from when she was in the garden.

God, she still had to fix the garden.

Her heart was still tangled up in everything that had happened between them, and she couldn't even remember the most important thing. She needed to make sure everyone had food.

She let out a deep sigh that brought no relief.

Boone wouldn't even give her the chance to tell him she loved him.

The realization hit her hard, a sharp ache beneath her ribs. Boone had pulled away so quickly, so carefully, as if protecting himself from something he didn't want to hear. As if he'd already decided she couldn't possibly feel what he felt.

Ashley swallowed, blinking back the sting in her eyes.

He was wrong. But she didn't know how to show him that yet.

Not when Everstill pulled her in one direction, and her desire to go home tugged her in another. Boone was standing in the middle.

She dried her face, cleaned up from having sex, and dressed, trying to quiet the ringing in her ears.

A door on the other side of the house slammed.

She listened for any movement or noise to tell her Boone was still in the house. She needed to talk to him. She needed to make him understand.

But he'd already walked away.

PART THREE

Chapter 24

Boone

––––––––

Boone wasn't beside her when Ashley woke. He’d been gone long enough that the house had lost its warmth.

He wasn't outside mowing the grass in front of the courthouse. She walked straight to the garden and found him standing alone at the end of the corn row. He stared out at the trees with a distance in his eyes she hadn't seen since her first week in Everstill. He didn't look at her when she stepped next to him. Didn't smile. Didn't reach for her.

"Morning." He walked away.

She scoffed, staring at his back as he joined the other men at the garden entrance. She tried to swallow the rising ache in her chest. She kept reminding herself he wasn't angry. He was scared. She could feel it in the way he moved. He went out of his way not to linger near her or touch her.

Blowing hair out of her eyes, she stepped between the rows and peered down at the plants that should be close to eight inches tall. But the moment she looked, her breath caught.

The garden had worsened.

The cucumber leaves drooped and brushed the soil. The pea leaves curled tight, their edges crisp as if under a heat lamp, but the weather never changed. She looked left. The beans bent in unnatural arcs, strained over the trellis.

Ashley knelt, touching a leaf. It was weaker and more fragile than yesterday. Her stomach rolled.

She wasn't the only one hurt by the distance Boone was putting between them. He was also hurting Everstill.

Somehow, the men were linked to the town. Everything had to work together to survive. Copper said the balance was off.

She moved through the rows, checking each plant, each stem, each patch of soil. The decline wasn't random. It was the same across every plant she had planted.

It was emotional. Reactive. The garden was mirroring Boone's unraveling.