“Well, as I just said, I don’t know about that, Bry. But you know what I do know?” She reached for her purse. “I know that it takes more than just s****l attraction for somebody to go to the all the trouble of doing something like this, in a single afternoon.” She stuck her hand in her purse, found something, and held it out on her palm. The small carved horse lay there, looking as cute and as simple as it had when Bryson had pulled it out of the trash. “Or to be so damn nervous about how it turned out that somebody would throw all those hours of work into the trash, rather than embarrass themselves or the person they were going to give it to.”
Bryson took the carving and rolled it on his palm. He’d been given a lot of gifts in his life—too many to count, so many that sometimes he did mor
