Will did his best to suppress a smile as he silently climbed the back-porch steps. Carmen appeared to be asleep on the swing with a book on her stomach. She hadn't changed, which could mean one of two things, either she had honestly fallen asleep and lost track of time, or she was doing her best to let him know that she didn't particularly care if they went out to dinner or not.

He leaned against the porch column and watched her as the soft light of the setting sun fell across her face. He still couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her. She was familiar to him but he wasn't sure how. If she was a model then he may have seen her photo somewhere before.

She turned a little on the swing and her book fell on the porch with a thump, causing her eyes to fly open. She must have really fallen asleep. Will bent over, reaching for the book, looking at the title. It was a book of poetry which surprised him. He opened it to the page she had been reading and noted the poem. It was one he knew well.

Carmen's eyes jumped to his movement and she hurriedly sat up, losing her hat in the process. At the sight of her hair Will felt his heart stop in his chest and his amused smile faltered as he was suddenly transported to a different place and a different time; there was nothing he could do to stop it. He turned away, towards the setting sun, placing his back to her as he tried to regain control.

She was the Landau girl. There had been an American magazine in the hellhole of a prison, and her photo had graced the inside cover. There had been three women, but she was the one who had saved him. There was no way he would forget her hair.

She had saved his life. The irony that now he was trying to save hers was not lost on him.

He took a deep measured breath and turned to face her with an over bright smile. "I never would have thought you were a poetry girl." He held out the book and noticed that she was busy stuffing her hair back under her ball cap with a frown.

When she was finished, she reached for the book, grabbing it like a small child who had gotten caught doing something bad. She opened the book with a frown, noting the poem that was marked before closing the book.

"I wouldn't imagine that you think much about poetry in general," she huffed as she stood up and started towards the door to the house.

Will was thankful that his urge to tease the woman suddenly took over his startled shock of recognition. "But you do imagine that I think about you." At her sudden look of frustration, Will's natural grin returned. It seemed the real girl, and not a photo, was much better at making Will forget his troubles.

She reached for the door knob and he felt that he was losing her and his chance to take her to dinner.

                      "In the fell clutch of circumstance

                     I have not winced nor cried aloud.

                     Under the bludgeonings of chance

                     My head is bloody, but unbowed."

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide. He had just quoted part of the poem, 'Invictus', that she had been reading.

"You just read that," she insisted.

"Maybe, maybe not. Why don't you come to dinner and quiz me on my knowledge of poetry? It might be the only way you ever find out the truth." He took a step down the porch steps and looked back at her, waiting.

She started towards him but stopped, looking down at herself.

"You look perfect, but shoes might be a good idea."

She nodded absentmindedly as she turned to her shoes which were by the door. He could tell she was intrigued because she kept shooting him glances while she was lacing up her boots.

"You use it to pick up women, don't you?" she accused as she stood up to join him.

He hid a grin, loving her curiosity. "Is 'Invictus' a poem that usually works on women?" he asked seriously.

"Any line of poetry gets women." Carmen rolled her eyes as she followed him down the steps and around the back of the house to his truck.

                       'Does it dry up

                       Like a raisin in the sun?

                       Or fester like a sore—

                       And then run?'

Will raised his eyebrow in question as he quoted the poem.

"Langston Huges, 'A Dream Deferred'," Carmen noted.

"What do you think, would I be able to pick you up with that line?" He held open the door to his truck for her to climb into. He was amazed that she didn't flinch or hesitate as she climbed into the old beater. She had to be used to riding around in limousines.

"Probably, if nothing else you would have at least been able to draw me into a conversation about it." Carmen was talking as climbed into the truck and it gave Will ample time to study her backside.

Will closed the door behind her and moved around the truck, keeping a careful look out for anything that was out of the ordinary. It was not lost on him that he had just used poetry to do that very thing; pull her into a conversation and out to dinner.

"Who's your favorite poet?" Carmen asked as soon as he closed the door behind him.

Will turned to her as he started the truck. "So, you believe that I know poetry now?"

"Still debating." She looked out the window and away from him as she answered.

"E.E. Cummings, he's my favorite," Will supplied as he started to drive down the long drive towards the gates of the property.

Carmen snorted in a very unlady like way and Will found it absolutely charming. "I'm not surprised."

"I didn't think you would be. I wonder what Mr. Cummings would have written about you?" He appeared to study her while pulling out onto the highway. Noting the tail that immediately started following them. "I bet he would have written about the birds and the bees and the taste of honey."

"You won't give that up, will you?"

"Not until I get a taste."

*******

Carmen felt her heart beat a little faster at his words as she kept her attention turned out the window. She was still trying to figure out how he had conned her into going out to dinner with him. It was as if he knew her weaknesses. Weaknesses she didn't even know she had.

Maybe he had a few.

"So, what do you do, on the ranch?" She quickly changed the subject.

"We're done with poetry, I take it?"

Carmen looked over at his half smile, he wasn't looking at her he was looking at the road. "For now." She liked the way his strong hand looked on the wheel. She noticed a long scar that ran the length of his hand from his index knuckle to his wrist and she wondered about it.

"I hope barbecue is alright for dinner," he said, avoiding her question. "Maybe a little dancing?"

"Barbecue sounds fine, but I'll say no thank you to the dancing." There was no way she was going to get that close to him. It would be too much of an opportunity for him.

"Scared Honey?" He grinned. He knew he was getting to her and he was enjoying every minute of it. It was a shame that she couldn't give him a run for his money, at least not under the current circumstances.

"Nonsense, I'm just not a very good dancer. I have two left feet."

"We could just hold each other and sway. We wouldn't even have to move our feet."

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" She turned away from the window to face him. "Tell me something, does this," she waved her hand at his person, "overwhelmingly fake charm usual work?"

"Fake! I'll have you know my charm is all natural, give it time, you'll learn to appreciate it."

"I doubt it. I find nothing natural about your charm. I find it forced and to well-rehearsed." She looked away from him again so she missed his brief frown. "You should quit while you're ahead."

"So, I am ahead, meaning the charm is working a little."

"Unless you want to have a real conversation, let's not talk. I think silence is best." Carmen rolled her shoulders. "Don't you find having to always have that charm turned on to be exhausting? I barely know you and it exhausts me."

"Perhaps you're right, silence is best, for now," Will said, his smile gone.

Carmen realized that she had hit a nerve, and that was something that she didn't think happened all that often with Will. It was probably a good thing, she had a feeling someone needed to shake him up and knock him off his high horse.