Chapter Twelve …
No Where To Run
Once in the fall she thought she saw him as she was walking down the street, tethered by Joseph’s – rather Alexander’s – invisible leash. Her thrilled heart sped up anxiously, only to be pulled back by that insistent tether drawing her back into a surrender that had been clearly established the summer before.
Seeing her on the street, Martin Finch had done a double take, staring at her from beyond brilliant displays of autumn gourds and squashes at the Sumner Street Market. The air was still warm then, the scent of fall strong and its harvest enough to sweep one into the market for fresh apples, cider, and the cinnamon scent of fresh-baked pumpkin pies pleasantly tickling the nose. If only she’d walked through the door.
But after that one brief glance,
