"I can't work with her," he growled, banging the door to the feed store open and stomping toward the back. Resuming his usual spot seated on an old barrel in the corner, he glared over at Mirabelle and Julia, who just stared at him.

"With who?" Julia asked.

"That... that new girl. Colleen or whatever the hell her name is. I can't work with someone like that," he repeated.

"Colette," Mirabelle corrected. "Why can't you work with her? What happened?"

Vaughn slouched back a little, tugging his hat lower. "She suggested that I go 'wallow with the rest of the pigs', that's what."

He heard a snort, and looked back over at the two women. Mirabelle quickly turned away, her hands clamped tightly over her mouth. Julia didn't bother trying to hide her face, though, and a moment later burst out in loud guffaws of laughter. That was too much for her mother, and soon the two women were collapsing against each other, laughing and giggling helplessly.

"I'm just thrilled you find me so entertaining," he grumbled.

Mirabelle shook her head, but couldn't speak to reply. Julia gasped a little, then said, still giggling, "Sh-she sure has you pegged! What, did she catch you staring at her bazongas?" Then she started giggling again.

"No," Vaughn snapped. After a moment, he looked away and tugged at his hat again. "It was her legs."

The two women started laughing all over again, and finally Vaughn stood up and stomped back out. "I'm goin' someplace quiet. Don't forget to breathe." Then he slammed the door.

He headed down to the dock and stepped into one of the little dinghies kept there for general use. As he rowed over to Meadow Island, he allowed to himself that, after all, she did have legs worth staring at.

**************

Colette fumed to herself as she threw open the barn door and stalked in. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? First staring at her like she was a piece of meat, then getting so high and mighty with her about her barns. She was used to being stared at like that, and it had intimidated her for years. But recent events had changed all that for her—now instead of anxiety, she felt anger. She was a human being, not an object, and she no longer had time or patience for those who couldn't, or wouldn't, recognize her as such.

She stared again at the remains of her phone. Honestly, she couldn't explain why she brought it with her. It was the last link, she supposed—the last tie to a life she'd turned her back on, walked—no, run—away from. She meant to never look back, though, and really, wasn't hanging on to this relic doing just that? She turned and hurled it with all her might against the wall, feeling both a stab of fear and elation as it shattered into a hundred pieces.

Then she realized she now had countless shards of broken plastic and glass on her barn floor. "Fuck!" she shouted, and even the act of screaming a curse relieved some of her tension. She yelled it a few more times, clenching her fists and hunkering down as she shouted every four-lettered word she could conjure up from her memory.

Feeling better, she cleaned up the shards of her phone, using a broken piece of board to scrape them onto another piece of wood. She carried it out of the barn, and found herself face to face with a startled Gannon.

"Oh! Errr...." She could feel her face reddening. How long had he been there?

He chuckled. "So yer don't allus speak as purty as yer look," he grinned, and though his words suggested censure, his tone of voice and his expression conveyed approval, even admiration. "Anyway, lady, the roof's all done. Yer can go inside now. I'm knockin' off for the day—got my store to run, too. I'll be back inna mornin'."

"Right. Thanks, Gannon. I'll... I'll see you tomorrow."

He nodded and left, and she looked around for someplace safe to dispose of her trash. She didn't want to leave it lying around for wild animals to get into, but she hadn't seen any sign of waste disposal anywhere, either. Finally, with a strangled groan of frustration, she found an old barrel and dragged it over near her house. She dumped her trash in, and went in to take a look at Gannon's work.

It was already greatly improved, though there was still so much to do. Looking around, she realized what she needed most right then was a good broom and dustpan. She decided she'd pick one up at the little general store, along with some cleaning supplies, before heading over in the morning. For now, she picked up the biggest pieces of debris scattered across the floor and carried them out to the barrel.

Besides the roof, Gannon had also fixed the foundation. It wasn't in such bad shape, really—not compared with the rest of the house anyway. But some of the supports needed to be reinforced, and in addition, he'd found a family of hissing, terrified opossums in the crawlspace. He'd chased them all out and quickly nailed up some temporary skirting around the perimeter to try to keep them out, but he said he'd need to do some more work on it later on, before she could safely move her furniture in.

After removing the biggest chunks of debris, she returned to the barn and had a look around. It smelled musty, and she looked askance at a loose tangle of straw in a dark corner. That'd have to go, and soon. Structurally, though, the barn didn't look nearly as badly off as that little shack of a house. Presumably the previous owner put more effort into caring for his animals than he had for himself. The small coop likewise seemed like it wouldn't need much more than a good cleaning, and with a feeling of relief, she closed up the two outbuildings and the cabin and returned to her room at the hotel.

She took a hot shower, scrubbing away first the layer of physical grime, then continued scrubbing until she had all but forgotten the way that man's eyes had slid across her. She shuddered, remembering the gleam in his nearly-violet eyes, and scrubbed a little more before stepping out and drying off. After blow-drying her hair, she dressed in a pair of coal-black jeans, a sleeveless top in a tiger-inspired print, clasped her gold locket back around her neck, and slipped on a pair of black sandals. She brushed the long, loose waves of nearly-black hair that fell around her shoulders, grabbed her handbag, and headed out.

Although it was only early spring, the islands were in the midst of a heat wave already. The night was wonderfully balmy with a gentle breeze blowing the scent of saltwater and tropical blooms through the small town. She glanced up at the stately mansion next to the hotel, remembering her encounter with its owner with a slight frown, then quickly turned her thoughts elsewhere.

Back in her former home, hundreds of miles to the northeast, they'd still have snow on the ground and everyone would be bundled up in heavy coats and thick scarves, she thought to herself, glancing down at the vivid wildflowers blooming along the edges of the narrow dirt road. She didn't miss it at all, and she grinned to herself as she strode toward the bridge to Verdure Island.

"You're looking pretty cheerful," a voice commented from a little behind her. She jumped slightly and turned to see a smiling young man walking up from behind her. His shoulder-length hair, loose curls tousled and windblown by the breeze, was the same bronzy brown as his eyes, and he already had a dark tan.

"I'm feeling pretty cheerful," she agreed with a laugh. "Denny, right?"

"That's me," he affirmed. "And you're...." A dismayed look came over him as he struggled to recall her name.

"Colette."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I suck at remembering names. So you're liking it here so far?"

"Yes, I suppose. So far everyone's been nice. Or almost everyone," she said, a brief flicker of annoyance flashing through her eyes.

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise already?" Denny asked, looking more concerned than he sounded.

She shrugged. "No big deal. Just didn't hit it off with one or two people. I'll have to work with one of them to some extent, but hopefully not much."

Denny started laughing. "Ahh, then I can make a pretty shrewd guess who that one is. A certain animal dealer rub you the wrong way?" She nodded in chagrin, eliciting more laughter. "Well, don't let it worry you. You're not the first to feel that way, and you won't be the last. We try, but he's just not interested in making friends. Really, he only ever talks to Mirabelle and Julia, and to his customers. Not that he's had many of those lately!"

"He's going to end up with even fewer if he can't curb his tongue. Not to mention his eyes!" she replied drily.

As they reached the door to Nick's Café, he darted ahead and opened it for her. "Hey, how 'bout I buy you dinner?" he offered with a wide grin.

"Oh," she said glancing at him in surprise. "Well... yes, thank you. That would be lovely," she added with a smile.

He led her back to a table where another girl sat, drumming her fingers in bored impatience. She glanced up with a happy smile that faded when she spotted their approach.

"Hey, Lanna! I invited Colette to join us," he exclaimed as he sat down.

"I didn't know you were on a date, though!" she protested. "I don't want to butt in—I'll just take that booth over there."

"Aw, no, we're not on a date, are we Lanna?" he laughed. "Lanna and are I just chums. She doesn't mind. Go ahead, sit down."

She glanced over at the unhappy blonde. She could see the telltale signs there, even if Denny couldn't. Or maybe he could and just didn't reciprocate? She took a seat, sitting just on the very edge of the chair, and glanced back and forth. She didn't want to be rude, but neither did she want to be the cause of bad feelings.

Denny was chattering away about fishing, and how he always brought his catches to Nick, who knew exactly how to prepare each fish to perfection.

Then she realized that Lanna was close to tears, and abruptly stood up, cutting Denny off mid-sentence. As they both stared up at her, she stammered, "I-I just remembered, I was supposed to call back home tonight. I'd better just grab something to go and hurry back to the hotel. Sorry—maybe another time. I hope you two have a nice evening, though!"

She hurried up to the counter, ordered a salad to go, and hurried on out the door. Since the phone thing had been nothing more than a ruse, she slowed down and came to a stop as soon as she was out of sight of the café windows, wondering where to go now. She didn't want to eat her meal all alone in her room, like a recluse. She'd had enough hiding away in the past several months to last a lifetime, and she was more than ready to rejoin the human race, even if not the same slice of humanity as she had previously been acquainted with.

But nearly everyone was eating their own meals then, either in one of the two small restaurants or in their homes. That didn't leave her with many options. So at last she slowly returned to the hotel to eat in solitude. Starting over in a brand new place wasn't easy, she thought later that night as she climbed into bed with a sigh and switched out the light.