Robin's Garden by Kathleen Y'Barbo

Author:Kathleen Y'Barbo [Y'Barbo, Kathleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Forget Me Not Romances, a division of Winged Publications
Published: 2017-03-26T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

Tears. Travis gulped. He could handle just about anything else, but not a woman’s tears.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Stop that.”

The redhead looked up, her eyes bright and glittering. Even now she looked every bit the aristocratic English lady, and it was all he could do not to scoop her into his arms and promise her anything just to get her to smile again.

“Forgive me. I’m hardly a woman who bursts into tears without. . .”

She swiped at her eyes and ducked her head. Rust colored curls obscured her face, but her heaving shoulders gave away the fact she hadn’t stopped crying. Before good sense could stop him, Travis knelt and pushed back the curtain of hair hiding her face to reveal a beauty that took his breath away.

His knuckles grazed her jawbone and traveled across the softness of her wet cheek as he searched for the words to erase her sadness. To his surprise, she nearly fell backward in her scramble to escape him.

He saw an almost primal fear in her eyes when she tilted her head. Travis took a quick glance over his shoulder to be sure he was the one who caused it. He looked back in time to see her disappearing around the corner at the end of the hedgerow.

“Hey, come back here,” he shouted into the empty expanse of leaves and dirt.

Only the sound of retreating footsteps answered him. The gentleman in him said to let her go and cry in peace, but the investigator said to hunt her down and ignore her tears. He decided to compromise and pray for her while he followed her path. Asking for discernment and advice seemed to be the right thing to do, but a map of this human trap might come in handy too.

Again the clatter of footsteps on hard packed dirt rushed past, this time sounding like it came from the other side of the hedge. Travis thrust his hand, shoulder, and right leg through the greenery only to have its sharp branches and pointy leaves bite back. The footsteps slowed, then picked up speed again, and Travis realized she must have seen him try to take the short cut.

He checked the damages. Other than a couple of minor scratches on his good hand and some leaves stuck in his hair, only his pride had been hurt.

Then he made a request for patience; the one prayer he soon came to regret. As the sun slipped higher overhead and several hours passed, he walked deeper and deeper into the oblivion he’d been told was known as the Lowingham maze.

Even stopping to stand on the occasional stone resting-bench gave him no idea where he was. The hedges stood twice his height, and in some places their limbs met overhead, obliterating the sky. Going through them had already proven both dangerous and impossible, and using his generally keen sense of direction had proved useless.

Finally Travis sank onto a bench to reconsider his options and thought of the bow sitting in his safe at the office, wrapped in brown paper and packed for mailing.

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