Chapter Thirty-eight
Twisted Snaffle“So, why Reuben’s fire?” Leslie sat next to Hana on the bench in Miriam’s rose garden. Will’s son hadn’t yet pruned the bushes back ready for autumn, but he would over the next few weeks. Wilted petals covered the mulch beneath their knotty trunks, spreading onto the lawn like a carpet of pink and white.
Mac squealed as he clung to Logan’s head, covering his father’s eyes as they spun in ever decreasing circles. He’d eaten at church and then again in the hotel restaurant, and his eyes bulged as he laughed. Hana bit back the suggestion that Logan stop twirling him before disaster struck. She’d learned not to be the voice of doom in their relationship. Anyway, he’d find out soon enough when the child puked on his head.
Wiri and Phoenix sat on the grass
