And I remembered how the court of public opinion had already indicted, convicted, and sentenced Ryan to prison. How could people so easily believe in someone’s guilt? How could people so easily think badly about someone they’d never met? How could—

I pulled in a deep, calming breath. Ryan didn’t need to know any of that. But he did need to know one thing.

“You’re going to clear your name,” I said, putting conviction into every consonant and every vowel.

“Sure, but . . . how?” he asked in a voice so soft I almost didn’t hear it.

“I’m going to help.”

*   *   *

Rafe pulled the cordless drill from a loop on his tool belt and, with the other hand, extracted a small handful of screws from a leather pouch. “Hang on,” he said. “Let me make sure I’ve got this right.”

There was a pause while he inserted the screws into his mouth and positioned the big and heavy chunk of drywall against the wood furring strips he’d installed months ago. Since I was no help with this kind of work, I took the time to wonder about the primal appeal of tool belts. Sure, my beloved was toward the happy end of the physical bell curve, but that didn’t explain the odd boost of attraction I felt in a certain part of myself whenever I saw his hips circled with—

Rafe, who had apparently fastened the drywall without my noticing even though I was staring right at him, waved his hand in front of my face. “Are you in there? Blink once for yes. Okay, good. Nice to have you back. So about Ryan Anderson.”

“Oh, right. Ryan.” I tried to remember what I’d already said. Couldn’t, not quite. “Um, what do you think?”

“That I wish I’d gone with you up to Breece Farms. I don’t like the idea of you approaching a guy who’s hiding out from the law.”

“It’s not like he’s a stranger,” I said. “I’ve known Ryan for years.” Plus, I knew Ryan read books that didn’t contain a single bit of gratuitous violence. Of course, that wasn’t going to convince Rafe of anything. Silly man. “Enough to know he’s not a killer. Or a bank robber,” I said firmly.

“Hmm.” Rafe rubbed his face, leaving a smudge of white dust on his cheek. “Nice that you’re loyal to your friend and all, but please promise me one thing. Let me know next time you go. And don’t tell me you aren’t already planning another trip. I bet you’ve already started a box of stuff for him.”

I grinned. “Nothing that you’ll miss. And yes, I promise.” I blew him a kiss. “Thanks for trying to take care of me.”

“Full-time job.” He pulled another handful of screws from his tool belt.