Out in the yard, Luci tossed the last weed into a wilting pile and paused to brush stray hairs back from her face, then winced when her wrist reminded her it had been twisted recently. There was something very soothing about having her hands in moist brown soil. All the things that worried at her Seymour imperturbability couldn’t seem to get a foothold on her thinking here, where the present was hard to separate from the past.
She looked at Boudreaux. “I’ve done this before, haven’t I? Worked in the garden with you, I mean?”
Boudreaux nodded, the wrinkles carved into his sun-scorched skin deepened by his delighted grin.
“I can’t believe how much I’d forgotten about this place.” Luci picked up a hand rake and started smoothing the disturbed dirt. And how much I never knew, she added to h
