6
She was seven months pregnant with Shiloh by that point, and hadn’t even been in town for weeks because she was half out of her mind with equal parts shame and heartache.
Arlo found her walking a little patch right between the River and Roman property line, picking blackberries. She was sweating hard, and kept eating more berries than what actually made it into her wicker basket.
“So it’s true,” Arlo said, making her jump.
She straightened up from the bramble, turning to find Sawyer’s father behind her, mounted on horseback. He and Sawyer could have been twins, if not for the age difference and the fact that Arlo always looked as sour as if he was chewing on lemons.
“Colonel Roman,” she said, nodding to him. Trying to pretend he hadn’t scared the daylights out of her, wishing she co
