Scarlet Nights (Edilean 3)

me he meant what he was saying—and that revelation shocked him. “You ready to go?”

“So now you’re angry at me?”

He turned on her. “I’ve done what I had to, whatever was necessary to bring about justice. And for your information, I have never put anyone in prison who didn’t deserve it. And many of the women who should have been indicted, I let go.”

Sara was unperturbed by Mike’s anger. When Greg got angry at her, she felt a sense of panic—and often, bewilderment. Rarely was she sure about what she’d done to cause his rage. All she knew was that she had to calm him down, make him forgive her, and get things back to the way they were in the first months they were together.

But she didn’t feel that confusion with Mike. His anger always had a reason, and something that had caused it. It was Greg’s irrational fury, that had no known cause, that made her crazy.

She reminded herself that no matter how much she came to like Mike, he was temporary. He was here for a job, and when it was done, he’d leave and she’d never see him again—except maybe as Tess’s brother. But she even doubted that. Tess had lived in Edilean for years, and Mike had never visited.

As for Merlin’s Farm, Mike had made it clear that that was Tess’s idea, not his. After his retirement, Mike would probably stay in sunny Florida and the farm would go back to the McDowells.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“I was just thinking about how different you and I are. I want permanence, someone to share my life with. I want children and fruit trees. But you want—” She paused. “What do you want? Do you even know?”

No woman had ever before asked him those questions and he didn’t know how to answer them. His whole life had been spent getting away from something, not moving toward anything. But Sara wasn’t like other women, and she made him question himself.

“Is now when you tell me that I’m different from all the other women you’ve sweet-talked in the name of duty?”

She was so right on that Mike couldn’t help laughing. “I was thinking about it.” He looked up at the sky. “It looks like it might rain. I think we should go.”

Sara started in the direction of the car, but Mike caught her arm and pulled her back to him. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he put his finger over his lips. Sara listened, but heard nothing.

As Mike kept hold of her hand, he looked around. There were only two ways out. One was through high weeds at the back of the summerhouse, but that would leave a path. The other was to go into an open area and try to get to the barn—but whoever was approaching would see them.

Mike glanced up at the old tree, then looked at Sara in question. She nodded.

Behind them was a faint sound of gravel crunching and Mr. Lang’s unmistakable voice muttering. When she was a child, her sisters made fun of her because when Mr. Lang walked by at the Farmers’ Market, Sara dove under the counter. Even today, the sound of his approaching scared her.

Mike pointed to her feet, then patted his shoulders. It took her a moment to understand what he meant, then she nodded.

He went to the tree, squatted down, and looked at Sara over his shoulder. If silence and speed hadn’t been so important, she would have argued that he couldn’t lift her from his crouching position. But there was no time for discussion. Quickly, she slipped off her sandals, put the straps over her wrist, and stepped onto Mike’s shoulders. Instantly, he stood up and Sara nearly gasped at the quickness of it. Her hands were on the tree to steady herself and she easily reached a branch. It was harder to swing herself up, and for once she wished she’d worn one of her two pairs of jeans. But she didn’t have time to think about propriety or tearing her dress. She swung a leg over and sat up on the fork of the heavy branch.

Below her, Mike was looking up at her in question. She nodded, and seconds later Mike made a leap, caught the branch and swung himself up.

Sara could hear Mr. Lang more clearly now and saw movement through the shrubs. He was getting closer.

Mike touched her arm and when she looked at him, he nodded upward. He wanted them to climb up. He made a motion for her to stay seated, while he stood up on the branch. When he leaned forward, his hands out to another branch, Sara gasped aloud in fear.

Turning, Mike frowned at her, but when he saw that she was afraid for him, he gave a cocky little grin. In the next second, he grabbed a higher branch and swung himself up onto it. Leaning down, he held out both arms to Sara.

She didn’t hesitate. She reached up to Mike just as she’d done at the window, except that this time if she fell, she’d be seriously hurt.

Grasping her wrists, Mike pulled her upward. It was an awkward movement, and for all that he’d told her she was light, she could see that he was straining.

The second branch was smaller than the first one, with little room on it. Mike leaned back against the tree, his legs hanging down, and pulled Sara into his arms, her back to his front.

She knew he’d set up the position, and had the circumstances been different, she would have moved out of his grasp. Maybe, she thought. Maybe she would have moved, but she had to admit that her body fit well against his. Mike’s chin rested at the top of Sara’s head. Perfect.

She was thinking so hard that she forgot why she and Mike were up in a tree, so when she heard Mr. Lang in the clearing below, she almost spoke. But Mike’s arms tightened about her, and she leaned back against him. When she felt his whiskery cheek against her neck, she closed her eyes. His breath was soft and she could smell the sweetness of it.

His hands came up to the side of her head and she felt his strong fingers in her hair, against her scalp. She put her head back, her eyes closed, and tipped her head to one side to give him access to her neck.

But the kiss she anticipated didn’t come. Instead, she felt Mike’s body tense up and his hands freeze in place.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. Mike’s cheek was against hers and he was looking down at Mr. Lang below. Sara shifted a bit so she could see the man more clearly. He had brought two big plastic buckets with him, and they were both full, but she couldn’t see what was in them. He was muttering in his guttural voice. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he sounded angry.