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me anyway. My uncles did this thing where they ignored everything I said. Every single word. It made me so mad but there was nothing I could do. After high school, I left."

That was why she'd come here instead of going home to Georgia. Why she was alone. Why she had no one to lean on during this time. Why she didn't need anyone's help, ever, thank you kindly.

But— "How were you related to Midge?"

Jasper opened her bottle and took a deep drink. With a laugh, she said, "I'm not, not in any blood-relation sense, but she was still my aunt. My mom's family moved around a lot when she was a kid—it was the army for her—and she had Midge for a teacher the one year she lived in this area."

"Your mother was one of Midge's high school students," I said slowly. "Wow. I can't believe that."

"Mmhmm. Eleventh grade United States history. They stayed in touch when my mother's family moved. Midge told my mom she liked getting letters from all over the world."

"She really loved her mail," I murmured.

"Oh, I know. I remember." Jasper giggled. "When we lived in Japan, we'd send her letters and packages with all kinds of local stuff. My mother would write little notes translating everything and explaining it. Midge would send us packages from the States. It was always such a special day when a box from Aunt Midge arrived."

"And you visited her in the summers?"

"Mmhmm." She busied herself settling the blanket around her legs again. "My mother knew the Cleary house was the least healthy place on the planet, especially when I wasn't in school all day, so she started flying me up here as soon as school let out." She glanced at the street, forced one of those fake smiles into place. "Where are all the kiddos? I thought you said we'd be mobbed."

I lifted a shoulder. "It's different every year."

"We are going to have a ton of leftover candy at this rate."

She pawed at the contents of the bowl like she didn't just crack open a case of major childhood traumas and pour them out into the street. Again, I didn't know what to say but silence wasn't an option, any more than staying in this chair while she mused about candy surpluses was an option.

"All right." I stood and edged the bowl away with the side of my boot. "That's enough. Come here."

I held my hands out to Jasper but she only blinked at me. "Where is it I'm going?"

I gestured to my chest. "Right here."

She gave me a cool up-and-down study. "And why am I doing that?"

"Because I want to hold you, and if you'd stop acting like you don't need anyone for just a minute, you might decide you want to be held."

She folded the blanket and fiddled with her drink. "I don't want to need anyone or anything. That isn't a place I like being."

"I know." I took the bottle from her hands, set it down. "But I'm standing here, needing you. Do you really want to say no?" I snapped my suspenders. "To a lumberjack?"

"Are you trying to seduce me into thinking I should need you? Or anyone else?"

I hooked my thumbs under the suspenders again. "Is it working?"

With a husky laugh, Jasper pushed to her feet and stepped into my arms. "Okay. Fine. You got me. For now."

Wasn't that the truth.

23

Jasper

I paced from the end of Linden's living area to the front door and back again because I had to do something, I had to move. The last time I tried to stop for a minute, I charred a very nice piece of bread and had to mourn that waste as I tossed it in the trash.

Lunch was unnecessary. It was too late now anyway. There was no sense in eating at four in the afternoon, not unless I wanted to be off-kilter the rest of the day.

I laughed out loud at that idea. It was not possible to feel more off-kilter than I did now. Not humanly possible.

I knew I was overreacting. I was sure of it. But I just couldn't stop. I'd tried distracting myself several times. I tried steaming the dress I planned on wearing to Linden's parents' anniversary party next weekend but ended up spilling water all over myself. I tried making a salad to go with dinner but destroyed a tomato in the process. The distractions weren't working.

As I reached the wall of windows at the back of the house, I heard Linden's truck pull into the driveway. A moment later, there was a metallic slam and a moment after that, the front door swung open.

I was still pacing—I really could not stop—when Linden spotted me. His expression shifted from pleasure to curiosity to concern inside a matter of seconds.

"Where's the fire?" he asked, a small box tucked under his arm and a ball cap on his head.

"No fire. I just left the toast in too long."

"Okay." He nodded but gave the kitchen a careful study before glancing back to me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I said automatically.

"Then why are you wearing a hole through my floors?"

I dragged my fingers under the crewneck of my sweater. "It's nothing, really."

"Stand still and say that to me."

I shot him an amused glance before shoving my hands in my pockets. Thank god for skirts with real pockets. "I decided to start on Midge's room today. It seemed like it was time."

He set the box on the countertop, dropped his hat beside it. "Don't tell me you burned that down."

"There was no fire, okay?"

"It smells like there was a fire."

"I burned the toast. A lot," I added. "But no flaming fires."

He shrugged out of his coat and dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. "All right. No fires. What happened in Midge's room?"

I started pacing again. "I figured I'd begin with something small, you know? It's really emotional for me and I don't feel like I can part with any of

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