Chapter Eight
The property was an acre and a half, from what he could tell, just outside McDermitt, the town he’d yet to set foot in. Rose Wilcox was pretty, with long hair the color of straw. He wasn’t sure how long it was, considering she had tied it back in a high ponytail, but it swung past her shoulders. She was tall, slender in the right places but curvy where it counted, and she had sculpted arms, not in a body-builder way but like a work of perfection, arms that hadn’t gone soft. The sawdust in her hair told him some of what was going on there. She was renovating or something, and it looked as if it had all been done with her touch. He didn’t see another vehicle or person around, and her ringless finger also told a story, maybe. That didn’t mean there wasn’t a significant other, t
