Rainbow's End by Irene Hannon Page B

dozen feet away, Jill shifted and risked a quick glance in his direction, holding out her hand at the same time. “Would you like to see him?”
    The boy stopped, and alarm flashed across his face.
    She smiled at him and extended her hand farther. “It’s okay if you take a look. He won’t hurt you.” And neither will I.
    His wary eyes regarded her, uncertainty in their depths. She held her breath, hoping her unspoken message had registered. He took a tentative step closer. Then he took another. And…
    All at once, his head jerked up and he stared over her shoulder. Panic tightened his features, and before Jill could say a word he turned and ran back toward the woods as fast as his short legs could carry him. In seconds he’d disappeared into the shadows.
    Her shoulders slumped with disappointment, and Jill turned to see what had frightened her young guest—only to discover her other guest striding across the field toward her. And he was a somewhat formidable figure, she acknowledged. Although he seemed a bit underfed, he still had a powerful, athletic build. Throw in his height advantage over the youngster, not to mention his scruffy appearance, and she couldn’t fault the little boy for being uneasy. Keith Michaels had the same effect on her. For different reasons.
    In one lithe movement she stood and turned to face him.
    â€œI’m sorry. It looks like I chased off your visitor.” He stoppeda few feet in front of her and planted his fists on his hips, twin furrows creasing his brow as he stared into the woods.
    â€œIt doesn’t take much. He’s as skittish as the deer I sometimes surprise nosing around my garden. I thought I might pique his curiosity with this and coax him a bit closer.”
    The wide-brimmed hat shaded her features, and when she dipped her chin to look down her face was hidden from his view. Following her line of sight, he realized she was holding a newly hatched baby bird.
    He took a step closer. “Where did you find him?”
    â€œHere. Lying in the field. A victim of last night’s storm, I guess.” She cocooned her hands around the bird, hoping some of their warmth would seep into the tiny creature. “I need to get him inside, out of the breeze. And feed him.”
    Doubt clouded Keith’s eyes. “He’s pretty little. I don’t think his odds are too great.”
    Once more Jill looked up, and he didn’t miss the stubborn tilt of her chin. “I don’t plan to give up without a fight. And I bet this little guy won’t, either. My record with baby birds is pretty good.”
    Without waiting for him to respond, she set off across the field. As Keith fell into step beside her, a sudden chuckle rumbled deep in his chest.
    At the unexpected sound she came to an abrupt stop and stared at him. “What’s so funny?”
    A wry grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “The woman at the shop in Eastsound told me that you liked to take in strays, and I had this image in my mind of an eccentric spinster lady with dozens of cats roaming all over her house. Not a young woman who rescues baby birds. I guess that shows how wrong preconceptions can be.”
    For several moments she continued to look at him, her expression solemn. “You were wrong about the cats, anyway.” She struck off again toward the house.
    His grin faded. He’d meant the comment as a compliment; instead, he’d upset her. Again. In half a dozen long strides he caught up to her.
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” She didn’t slow her pace. Nor did she respond. “Look, the reason I came over was to say thank you for all the work you did at the cottage. It doesn’t even look like the same place. And the soup was a bonus. It brought back a lot of happy memories. My mom used to make chicken soup, and back when times were simpler, it was the solution to a lot of life’s problems.