“What…How are you…What?” I stammer, as the figment from last night’s salacious dream takes a swinging step my way. “Didn’t mean to spook you,” he says, lips twisting into an unconvincing smile. “You city girls are awfully jumpy.” “And you country boys are hard to track down,” Sophie says from over my shoulder, “Which of John’s boys are you?” “I’m Cash,” he replies, his hard eyes still trained on me. “I’m Sophia,” she tells him flatly, “The doe-eyed one is Annabel. And the short one right there is—” “Madeleine,” I say softly, holding out my hand for Cash to shake. I’m embarrassed to see that it’s trembling, “Madeleine Porter”. Cash glances down at my hand, then back up at my face, his wry smile unflinching. Even I’m baffled by my outstretched hand—pretending not to know him was my first instinct. But did I just do something egregiously wrong? “Right,” Cash says, ignoring my hand completely. “Let’s… go see if Mom needs any help in the kitchen,”
