Free Hearts Crossing (Woodland) by Marianne Evans Page A

mood. A subtle degree of tension rolled off him, sliding over Daveny. Lunchtime brought them together after working apart for the bulk of the morning. He remained pleasant and warm, but a layer of disquiet that Daveny could all but feel worked like static against her nerves.
    Sandy, Kiara and Pastor Ken linked up with a group of volunteers not far away. Daveny noticed his furtive glances, the subtle squeeze of tension between his brows when he looked at Sandy. He chatted with Daveny, with his brothers and sisters; he horsed around with the myriad of nieces and nephews who toppled all over him. But eyes mirrored the soul—and those mirrors kept track of Sandy—his mouth uncharacteristically set into a tight, straight line.
    Being welcomed so warmly into the fold of the Edwards family helped redirect her thoughts, though. Daveny enjoyed getting to know the extended family a bit better, but bodily refreshment barely kicked in before work called once more.
    During lunch Daveny had idly mentioned needing some spare muscle to place and secure the circle of perimeter stones by the bridge. Collin didn't say much in reply, but when the break finished, he trailed Daveny to the freshly planted rose bush, which gave her a needed psychological boost.
    They went to work, Collin settling the weighty stones firmly into place. Daveny knelt next to him and preceded his efforts by grooming the ground then digging out suitable space within which to nestle the rocks. They created the circle in silence, conversations humming around them, laughter and the dash and squeal of playing children a soothing backdrop.
    After a time, the sun became scorching, so she plucked two water bottles from a passing volunteer. Daveny handed one to Collin, finally venturing, “You're working like a man on a mission. Wish I had more of a reward for you.”
    The water bottle traveled from her grip to his and he drank deeply.
    “No problem. Besides, good works are a reward unto themselves, right?”
    His tone and attitude verified her suspicion that he was troubled. His words provided the perfect opening to conduct just a bit of probing. “Is that what you believe?”
    At first he just shrugged, but then he went back to work. Briskly. “It's easier to believe in the tangible results of good works, even punishment for bad ones, than it is to believe in the unseen and unheard.”
    Daveny settled onto her knees, cushioned from the ground by a protective pad. Almost like a plea she asked, “What happened to make you feel that way, Collin?”
    “Some day I'll tell you.”
    “But not today?”
    His shoulders sagged as if burdened by a weight he could hardly bear.
    “I'm a little raw today, so this probably isn't the best time to delve deep.” He looked at her in earnest. “Daveny, it's not you. Honestly, it's not.” There he paused, seeming to consider. He examined the soil, running his gloved hand over its base. “I know what I'm saying may sound overly dramatic; I don't mean for it to. I feel like I'm at a complete crossroads right now.” Daveny moved to speak, but he held up a hand to stave off further questioning. “I'll work it out, but for now I'm trying to sort things out. I'm just in a funk, I guess. Sorry for not being better company.”
    The admission made her bold. She didn't hesitate. She kissed his cheek, her lashes fluttering closed against his skin as she did so. The pleasant scent of male musk, the tang of salt from his sweat-touched skin skimmed through her. The essence of him remained on Daveny's lips as she moved slowly away.
    “You're fine company, Collin.”
    The expression he wore when she looked at him put her heart to work in double time, her pulse racing in syncopation to its beat. Heat flushed through her system when she saw the need, the undisguised hope and openness in his eyes.
    Looking at him this way left Daveny with the strangest feeling that those were emotions he didn't allow himself to feel, or reveal, very often.
    If ever