“My father said you needed a wife.”
The man didn’t smile.
He didn’t blush.
He didn’t even look embarrassed.
He set down the warped board he was pulling from the gate, wiped one dusty hand on his jeans, and looked at me like he had been expecting the world to misunderstand him.
Then he said four words that made my stomach drop.
“I need a witness.”
PART 1 — THE MAN AT THE FENCE