And for the first time since this whole thing started, she didn’t have a plan of action. She was out of ideas and devoid of hope. Even her special spot, this spot, couldn’t offer her solace. The fading sunlight streaked across the horizon like a splash of paint. She closed her eyes to the beauty and went inside herself. “Stand still.” “I’m trying.” Georgia laughed. “Well, you’re doin’ a shit job of it,” he teased. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one standing here in their birthday suit in front of God and everybody.” “There’s no one here but you and me, baby. Relax.” Nate dipped his brush into the paint and pressed it against the large stand in front of him. The moist bristles made a soft scratching noise against the canvas. Georgia did her best not to squirm, but it was hard not to be self conscious, even with Nate’s proclamations of perfection. The barn was cold despite the mild temperatures of the autumn night outside. The thin white sheet draped around her left hip did little to warm her chilled skin.
