Looking up from her sewing, Jamie bit her lip. For a split second, she contemplated telling him the truth. Considered pulling him aside and asking him for help. Thought about telling him everything, confessing her sins. But then reality set in. This man was no match for Will McMillan. Even if he was a good shot, there was no doubt in her mind that Will could shoot him dead without a second's hesitation. "No," she said. Then looked at the door again. Half praying that Will would come in right away. Save her from the lies. He chuckled, his expression easy. "I thought so. You two have that way about you." "What way?" she was intrigued in spite of herself. "That way that newly marrieds have." When she stared at him in confusion, he explained himself further. "You know what I mean. . . . It's like you two only see each other. You probably don't even realize it none, but your eyes follow him nonstop. Just like you're afraid he's going to surprise you with something good." Looking at his wife fondly, he murmured, "I've been there a time myself with Abigail." Jamie couldn't help being amazed by the irony of the situation.
