Good heavens, what had she walked into here? People didn’t find bodies in their front yard. C.J. would’ve said it was totally uncivilized. Maggie choked back a hysterical giggle and straightened. The one unarguable fact she had to face was that she had found one. Now she had to deal with it. Taking deep breaths, she went to the phone and dialed the operator.

“Get me the police,” she said quickly.

A few minutes later, Maggie went outside. Though she’d hoped the practical routine of reporting what she’d found would calm her, it hadn’t worked. She didn’t go near the gully, but she found she couldn’t sit inside, waiting alone. Circling around the front of the house, she found a convenient rock and sat. The puppy stretched out in the patch of sunlight at her feet and went to sleep.

She could almost believe she’d imagined what she’d seen in that pile of dirt and rock. It was too peaceful here for anything so stark. The air was too soft, the sun too warm. Her land might be unruly, but it held a serenity that blocked out the harsher aspects of life.

Was that why she’d chosen it, Maggie wondered. Because she wanted to pretend there wasn’t any real madness in the world? Here she could cocoon herself from so many of the pressures and demands that had threaded through her life for so long. Was this spot the home she’d always wanted, or was it in reality just an escape for her? She squeezed her eyes shut. If that were true, it made her weak and dishonest, two things she couldn’t tolerate. Why had it taken this incident to make her question what she hadn’t questioned before? As she tried to find her tranquillity again, a shadow fell over her. Opening her eyes, Maggie looked up at Cliff.

For some reason it toughened her. She wouldn’t admit to him that she’d begun to doubt herself or her motives. No, not to him.

“Someone should be here soon.” She linked her folded hands over one knee and looked back into the woods.

“Good.” Several minutes passed while they both remained silent, looking into the trees.

Eventually, Cliff crouched down beside her. Funny, but he thought that she looked more apt to fall apart now than she had when he’d carried her into her kitchen. Reaction, he decided, had different speeds for different people. He wanted to hold her again, hard and close, as he’d done all too briefly before. The contact had made something strong and sultry move through him. Like her music—something like her music.

He wished like hell he’d turned down the job and had walked away the first time he’d seen her. Cliff looked past her to the slope that led to the gully.

“You talked to Stan?”

“Stan?” Blankly, Maggie stared at Cliff’s set profile. At that moment, he was close enough to reach but seemed miles away. “Oh, the sheriff.” She wished he’d touch her, just for a moment. Just a hand on her. “No, I didn’t call him. I called the operator and asked for the police. She connected me with the state police in Hagerstown.” She lapsed into silence, waiting for him to make some comment on her typical city response.