No family talk. Too many rules to Patrick Barre. So rigid and armored. And yet, when Gini had hugged him in the hospital, he was none of those things. He’d held her, taken her outside by the hand, sat with her, and kept her calm. He’d been soft, gentle. In her kitchen, however, Patrick had locked down like a bank vault. No withdrawals. No deposits. See the next teller, please. What was he protecting so vigilantly, and why did she care? She’d gone this long staying out of relationships. Kept herself busy with work, the farm, community projects like the animal shelter, and family stuff. If there was no time for men, she couldn’t miss them, right? Something about Patrick, however, made her notice her aloneness. The way he lingered in her mind had left her wanting things she’d decided she couldn’t have. “And you can’t have them, idiot.” Gini clipped a photo on the drying line and shook the hair out of her eyes.
