She worked so hard to convince her uncle they weren’t really in love, Tiller had started to wonder himself. Even when they were alone, in the hallway or passing in the yard, she shrank from his touch and pulled away if he tried to whisper in her ear. She seemed to be a different woman, and it scared him, made him long for her with a passion he’d never known. He hoped her coldness was borne of determination to trick Joe and not a picture of her true feelings. Pushing aside his worrisome thoughts, Tiller lowered Otis into the cane-bottomed chair on the front porch and tucked a blue knitted shawl beneath his chin. The view toward the river in back was nicer, but it took so much out of Otis to walk the long hallway, he had little energy left to take pleasure in his time outside. He settled against the cushion and gazed around the yard with a satisfied smile. "Yes sir. Just what the doctor ordered." Tiller pulled the matching chair around and lowered his lanky body, enjoying the cool breeze on his face.
