“I brought a couple of different prostheses options,” she murmured as she braced her legs and moved the static blade through the air. “But I think this will work fine.”

I love you, he thought.

Instead of speaking his mind, he grabbed the other chain saw and gave her ear protection. “You ready?”

She nodded as she put in her bright orange plugs. Then frowned. “I’m wondering if I shouldn’t secure Soot with his whizzer lead. What if he spooks.”

“Believe it or not, it’s all fenced in. See the gate over there? Well, the gate under those bushes.”

She looked in the direction he pointed, and he got to enjoy the way the sunshine streaming into the barn, hazy with fine dust, bathed her in golden light.

“I walked the line this morning soon as I got here because you said you were bringing him. It’s a wire fence, but it’s sound and he can’t get over it or through it. Also, no barbs, so he won’t get hurt.”

She glanced down at the dog. “You hear that? You can roam. Don’t worry about the noise.”

They walked out and agreed to concentrate on the northern edge of the acreage. Taking posts about fifteen feet apart, they got the chains going, and then it was a high-pitched whine duet. He checked on her a couple of times and then just worked along with her, him heading to the left, her to the right, the distance between them growing as the debris they created multiplied.

Soot was the perfect supervisor. He picked a shady spot by the back door, lying on the cool cement step, but did not put his head down. He watched them the whole time, as if he were ready to intercede if whatever protocol he was measuring them against was violated.

Phase two was hauling, and Anne took off her navy blue fleece for that, her Under Armour shirt contouring her torso. She worked without slowing, her body honed by exercise, her focus so total, he wondered what she was working through in her head. And then it was back to the saws. And more with the hauling.

They broke for lunch, eating the subs he’d gotten on the way in and talking about nothing in particular. And then it was four in the afternoon.

She cut her engine first and wiped her forehead on the back of her hand.

He knew it was getting late, the sun was fading and the work was adding up, and he wanted her to stay the night even though all he had was an air mattress upstairs that smelled like a latex glove and no food.

Anne surveyed the wide swath they’d cut, the thin stumps poking out of an acre or two of now fresh dirt the stubble of the earth.

“We got more done than I thought.”

“Still plenty to do. Not that I’m saying we have to keep going.”

“Good. Because I’ll be the first to admit, my shoulders and arms are shot.”

All Danny could do was stare at her. Her lips were moving, and it was clear she was talking, but emotion had jammed up his brain.

“Danny. I asked you a question.”

“Huh?”

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

He looked away. ”You know why.”

She cleared her throat. “I, ah . . . I guess it’s time to go.”

“Yeah. You better head out.”

They took the chain saws back to the barn and removed their work gloves. He’d got a burn on the back of his neck, and it felt good to get the plugs out of his ears. Soot came over and sniffed around, but he largely stuck with Anne, and Danny liked that.

A woman alone in that house of hers? It was good to know she had somebody looking out for her with those kinds of teeth.

Not that the dog seemed aggressive at all. Then again, nothing was threatening her.

“Are you staying here?” she asked as they went into the house.

He cracked another water bottle and gave Soot a refresher in his collapsible bowl. “Maybe. But I don’t know, I’m on shift tomorrow morning, and the commute is bad at rush coming into the city.”

“Yeah.” She looked at the ceiling. “I get it.”

As she continued to stare up there, he wondered if she’d seen a leak he’d missed or something.

Then he did the math. “Yes. You can. And I’ll give you all the privacy you want.”

Chapter 37

As Anne went upstairs, she felt her body in a new way, and not just because she’d been doing hard physical labor all afternoon. Soot was by her side, although when they got to the top, he seemed conflicted given that there was someone he cared about on the first floor as well.

She was also very aware Danny was downstairs in the kitchen, drinking water from a bottle by the sink.

“You can lay down here,” she murmured, leaning down to pat the floor at the head of the steps. “That way you can monitor everyone.”

He took the advice and curled up in a ball, his head lowering as he seemed to keep one eye on her and the other on the front door downstairs.

The bathroom was aglow in warm afternoon light, the fine dust swirling in the diffused, filtered sunshine in a lazy way as if the air were water with a gentle current. As she went over and cranked the faucets, she half expected to have to call Danny because things didn’t work.

And she was disappointed when she didn’t have to.

Water, clear and soon warm, cascaded into the deep basin, the rush explosive, the pressure old-school, when things like conservation hadn’t been on anyone’s radar. Bending over, she swished things around to rinse off the bottom and sides, but someone had either used it recently or cleaned it because it wasn’t that dirty.

Turning the water off, she swished everything toward the drain so she could start fresh. And as she pictured herself naked and sinking in under the level . . .

Ripkin’s nasty voice went rugby on her mind, barging in, all elbows and hard knocks.

The sound of something heavy coming up the stairs brought her head around. Through the open door, she saw Danny hesitate before making the turn around the banister.

He stopped. “I heard the water go off. Is something wrong?”

His eyes were hooded, his body tense.

Straightening, she couldn’t help but stare at his hips as Ripkin’s subversion got louder and louder.

“No,” she said as she turned the water on again. “Everything is fine.”

Before she could think too much, she took the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head. Tight as it was, her breasts bounced free as she hadn’t worn a bra, and then she went for her work pants. The thick fabric and heavy-duty zipper went easy and then she was stripping off everything, her panties included.

Danny’s eyes were hot on her skin and his body responded, his erection thickening up quick.

She paused as she went to remove her prosthesis. Fear rose up even as she told herself this wasn’t a reveal. This wasn’t . . . anything different than any other part of her.

The lie didn’t stick. Her heart pounded as she released her static appendage and removed the sock. It took all her self-control not to put her arm behind her back, and she had to hang her head.

All of this was stupid, of course. If you looked for validation from other people, by definition they could take that away if they chose. The safest path, as always, was to be your own rock, your own harbor, your own shelter.

Am I okay? should only ever be answered by the person asking that question.

The trouble was, if you had to make the inquiry, by definition you didn’t know. And after all these months of battling her way back from the fire, solving problems, healing her body, finding her way . . . she hadn’t thought much about what the loss of her hand meant to her as a woman.

Maybe she’d deliberately not considered it.

But that which she had avoided, Ripkin had ferreted out and exposed, a new wound that required tending to.

And the truth was, there was only one person she could do this with, show this part of herself to. Regardless of all the stay-aways she put between them . . . she couldn’t imagine getting over this hurdle with anybody else.

Danny had all kinds of weaknesses and bad news sides to him, but one thing he had never done was let her down when it counted.

God, she felt like they were back in that hot spot together, flames all around, death prowling. Just the two of them, their resources, their ability to work together. And like in that crucial moment, she needed him to help save her. As much as she wanted to rely on herself, she couldn’t do this alone.