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Knowing that a refusal of his offer at this point would only make her look even more foolish and admitting that she honestly did need the man to model, she moved a stool near to where she was working. ‘You could sit here for a few minutes.’

‘The last time she asked me to sit for a few minutes, it was ten hours,’ Tommy commented in a consoling voice.

‘It was less than an hour, and you never stopped squirming,’ Sara corrected, throwing the boy a lopsided grimace.

‘It was at least two hours, and I sat perfectly still without even hardly breathing for a whole ten minutes once,’ he rebutted.

‘It was one hour, and you sat perfectly still for a whole four minutes once,’ she conceded, adding playfully, ‘I considered renaming the piece “Child in Action” and adding a few extra arms and legs.’

‘Oh, Aunt Sara!’ the boy grinned sheepishly before returning to his cutting and pasting. His bright eyes indicated that he enjoyed this light bantering with his aunt.

‘You’re very good with children,’ Brad remarked as Sara positioned him.

‘Thank you,’ she smiled tightly, having a difficult time fighting the fiery sensation in the tips of her fingers as she moved his head slightly to one side.

‘Mom says she should have some of her own,’ Joanie offered happily, glancing up from her work. ‘But she’d have to get married first so I could be in the wedding.’

‘Yes, and Dad says if she was married he wouldn’t have to worry about her living alone. Of course, she’s not living alone now, but he still seems to be worried.’ Tommy contributed his two cents.

‘You two are a couple of walking, talking encyclopaedias today,’ Sara interjected before either child could continue the discourse on how the family felt about her current lifestyle and their plans for her future. ‘Why don’t you close your covers for a while and concentrate on your kites?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Tommy replied, catching the warning look in his aunt’s eyes and throwing his sister a cautionary glance.

For the next half hour the room was quiet except for the short exchanges between the children concerning their kite building. Brad sat stiffly while Sara glanced back and forth between him and her clay, sometimes pausing to move completely around him. His was a strong face, and yet when his eyes fell on the children there was a perceptible softening. She found herself staring more than working and had to mentally admonish herself more than once.

‘Tommy’s right,’ Brad broke his silence at the end of thirty minutes. ‘It does seem like ten years.’

‘You can move if you like.’ She bit her lip self-consciously. ‘I’ve got a good enough start to go on without you if you want to go back to your own work.'

He rose and stretched but did not immediately leave. Instead, he wandered over to see what kind of progress the children were making on their project. ‘Where do you plan to take them to try out their kites once they’re finished?’ he asked, returning his attention to Sara as she attempted to size the nose properly.

‘I hadn’t thought about it,’ she replied, finding the vivid green of his eyes made them so predominant that it was difficult to proportion the face properly. ‘I guess I was actually planning to leave that part of the project up to Steve.’

‘I have to run out to The Pines for a while. If you’d be willing to pack a picnic lunch, there’s a large open space in the park out there they could use,’ he offered.

Sara’s first inclination was to decline, but both Tommy and Joanie immediately jumped up and began pleading with her to accept.

Thus it was that a little over an hour later, she sat on a blanket across the remains of a picnic lunch from Brad Garwood watching her niece and nephew running back and forth in an attempt to launch their more colourful than functional creations. An ancient live oak, its trunk so wide, four children could have hidden undetected behind it and its foot-thick branches, decorated with pale thready masses of Spanish moss swaying gently in the breeze, provided a comfortable shade for the adults.

Normally this soft environment would have produced an air of peace within her, but the presence of the man only a few feet away caused her to remain tense. Feeling a strong need to break the silence between them, she asked, ‘Do you come out here often for picnics?’

‘No. In fact, this is the first picnic I’ve been on in years. I guess I have a tendency to let my work take over my life.’ Brad was watching the children and there was a musing quality in his voice when he spoke.

Sara knew from various snatches of conversations in which Steve had mentioned their mutual employer that Brad had come from a poor family and had worked hard to build the life he had today. He had paid his own way through school doing manual labour and then sent his brother and sister through. ‘That’s not an uncommon fault,’ she commented quietly.

The breeze caught her hair and sent a strand over her face. Reaching across the distance between them, Brad brushed it back behind her ear. For a second her heart seemed to stand still as their eyes met and his hand traced the line of her jaw in a caress that ignited a fiery glow over her entire body. Then abruptly he broke the contact and in the same motion lifted his tall frame from the blanket. ‘I did come out here to check on a few matters,’ he announced briskly. ‘I’ll be back to take you and the children home in a little while.’

Before she could speak he was moving away. Watching him stride across the grass to the street, Sara realised her hands were shaking and chided herself for allowing the man to elicit so strong a reaction from her. After all, she hardly knew him, and what she did know was not particularly favourable. He was overbearing and arrogant. Still ... Her hand went up to touch her jaw where the imprint of his fingers continued to linger.

‘He thinks I'm naive and childish, and I’m beginning to think he’s right!’ she muttered angrily, quickly gathering up the remains of the picnic before joining Tommy and Joanie in their attempts to get their kites off the ground.

When they returned to town, Brad paused at the house only long enough to drop Sara and the children off. Then, informing her that he would require dinner at seven, he left for his office. She greeted his departure with a sigh of relief. Helen was due back soon, and although Sara was fond of her sister-in-law, the woman could be even more blunt than the children.

And as Sara suspected, Helen intended to be blunt about her feelings regarding the present situation. ‘It’s a beautiful house,’ she said as they returned to the kitchen after a full inspection of the premises. ‘Although I don’t know how you can stand running up and down three flights of stairs all day long.’

‘It’s supposed to be healthy.’ Sara smiled apprehensively. She knew her sister-in-law well enough to know when Helen was preparing to be frank.

‘You know that I understand how over-protective Steve is with you and how much it gets on your nerves,’ Helen began, her face and tone taking on a certain motherly quality which had become more and more pronounced over the years thanks to the practice she was receiving from communicating with her own children. ‘However, in this case I think he has a point—or had a point, I should say, since he seems to have reconciled himself to this situation much better than I would have ever dreamed was possible. Anyway, I’ve met Brad Garwood and he’s quite a man. Living here alone with him is sure to cause gossip. There are going to be people who’ll never believe that your relationship is strictly business. And, if nothing else, you should consider Ida’s reaction. She’ll never forgive any of us.’

‘I know,’ Sara admitted.

‘You can move in with us,’ Helen finished.

‘I don’t think that will be necessary, but thanks anyway,’ Sara refused. ‘I’m sure I can find a place for myself, and I promise I’ll start looking right away.’

‘Just keep in mind that once gossip starts it’s harder to get rid of than weeds,’ Helen warned. ‘Every time you think you’ve eradicated the whole lot, a new batch pops up somewhere else.’

‘I’ll remember,’ Sara promised.

After Helen and the children had left, she started dinner, then wandered aimlessly around the house. She knew her sister-in-law was right. She had known almost from the beginning that she could not remain under Brad Garwood’s roof. Still, she was filled with a deep regret coupled with what could only be described as a sense of foreboding. ‘I’m being ridiculous,’ she muttered, gazing out the second floor window of the living room. ‘I’m just overwrought. Ever since the ball, I haven’t been myself. If I had been myself I would never have moved in here in the first place.’

‘You’re muttering to yourself again,’ Brad startled her as he entered the room. ‘What’s the problem this time?’

‘I wasn’t mut ...’ Whirling jerkedly around, Sara started to deny the accusation, then stopped herself. ‘Yes, I was muttering. I can’t stay here. It was foolish of me to agree to be your housekeeper. Steve’s made me angry and I wanted to teach the both of you a lesson.’ Although Brad raised an eyebrow at this confession, he continued to remain silent. ‘Anyway,’ she hurried on, ‘I’m not as liberated as I thought, and I hadn’t honestly considered all the consequences.’

Expecting a sarcastic response, she was surprised when he merely nodded in thoughtful agreement. ‘When do you want to leave?’

As she realised that he was no doubt anxious to be rid of her now that he knew she was not going to submit to having an affair, her back straightened. ‘I can move in with Helen and Steve tomorrow.’

‘I’m not anxious to be rid of you, Sara,’ he frowned as if reading her mind. ‘I only want you to do what you feel is right for you.’

The hint of brotherly concern was back in his voice. ‘Fine,’ she muttered through clenched teeth, feeling irrationally irritated as she brushed past him and went downstairs to finish dinner.

For the rest of the evening, other than the times when she was serving the meal, she avoided his company. She didn’t understand why she was reacting so childishly, but for some reason she couldn’t seem to help herself. Therefore, to avoid embarrassment, she avoided him. This behaviour did not go unnoticed, and an air of tension built to a density so thick it could be cut with a knife.

The phone rang around nine. Sara started to answer it, but when it stopped in the middle of the second ring she knew Brad had picked it up. Returning her attention to the clay in front of her, she frowned. She could not dissociate the man from the sculpture, and the emotional battle raging within her was dramatically affecting her creativity.

Suddenly a knock sounded on the studio door, followed by the structure being thrust open. ‘That call was from one of the residents at The Pines,’ Brad said tersely, remaining in the doorway. ‘She was pretty hysterical, but from what I could gather, she saw some kids sneaking into an unfinished unit near hers. I’ve alerted security and I’m going out there myself. I want you to call Steve and tell him to meet me there.’

‘Of course,’ Sara replied coolly, but as he started to leave she heard herself add in an anxious tone, ‘Be careful.’ Why she had said it, she did not know, and her face flushed red as he paused to give her a searching look.

Averting her head, she brushed past him to pick up the phone in the hall and began dialling Steve’s number. But as he started down the stairs, her head turned towards him of its own volition and, as if he felt her eyes on him, he met her concerned gaze. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ he promised.

After calling Steve and relaying the message, Sara returned to her studio, but she could not work. Covering the clay, she paced nervously around the house. She did not know why she felt apprehensive, but there was no denying that she did. If she was a person who believed in premonitions she would have thought that was what she was having—a premonition of disaster, and it involved Brad.

It was nearly midnight when a car finally pulled into the drive. Running upstairs to her studio, she uncovered her clay. It was her intention to pretend that she had been so engrossed in her work, she had lost track of the time. She certainly did not want Brad knowing she had been anxiously waiting up for him.

Hearing Steve’s voice, she walked out to the landing and looking downward was greeted by a sight that caused her breath to catch in her throat. Her brother was accompanying a bloodied, bandaged Brad up the stairs.

‘What happened?’ she managed to choke out, taking in the slight swelling under each of the two white patches on his face and the securely wrapped wrist suspended in a sling.

‘Seems some idiot in a truck drove out of a dirt side road right in front of Brad,’ Steve explained as they reached her.

‘I swerved to miss him and went into a ravine,’ Brad finished, his voice sounding slurred.

‘The doctor gave him something for the pain,’ Steve explained in answer to Sara’s questioning glance. ‘I’m going to put him to bed.’

‘Shouldn’t he be in hospital?’ she suggested, fighting a strong urge to wrap her arms around the injured man and hold him tightly to her.

‘Yes,’ Steve frowned.

‘No,’ Brad growled.

Throwing Sara a ‘there’s nothing I can do to change his mind’ look, Steve said, ‘After I get him tucked in, I’ll need some ice packs for his wrist.’

‘I’ll fix them right now,’ she threw over her shoulder, already on her way down the stairs. In the kitchen, her hands shook as she emptied ice trays into plastic bags. She had known something terrible was going to happen to Brad, but how?

Back upstairs, she waited impatiently outside the bedroom door until Steve opened it. Refusing to give him the ice bags, she approached the bed herself to discover Brad already asleep, his face pale and drawn. Carefully she arranged the ice around his wrist, then picked up the prescription bottle on the night table next to the bed.

‘The doctor sent those along for the pain,’ Steve explained in hushed tones.

Replacing the bottle on the table, she took her brother’s arm and led him out of the room. Then closing the door securely behind her, she demanded, ‘Just how badly is he hurt?’

‘Not really badly,’ he assured her. ‘He has a few stitches under those bandages and his wrist is badly sprained, but he got off easy. You should see the car!’

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