“Not here,” she protested. “Someone might see us.”
“We need to go somewhere more private then,” Tom told her in a slightly breathless voice.
“Like where?” she asked and narrowed her eyes as she stared at him.
He glanced at the schoolhouse as if he was about to suggest going inside, but instead reached out to grab her wrist.
“I have an idea,” he said. “Come on.”
“Where to?” Mary asked as she struggled to free her wrist from the strong grip.
She continued to glance around, but there was no one there and she eventually gave up protesting and let herself be led along the street away from the schoolhouse.
“Is this the way to your farm?” she asked.
“It’s not the quickest way,” Tom answered. “But it is possible to get there this way.”
The few buildings there were alongside the street qui
