Jackson stood just inside the door. “Flynn has gone to town to get more sandpaper. I thought I had enough to last until the first of the month, when a new shipment comes in, but with two of us working, we’re down to the last piece. But that’s not why I’m here. I’ve gone over the night that we slept together a dozen times in my mind, and I can’t figure out why you’re so angry.” He took a step to the side and eyed her from head to toe. “You’re wearing my shirt. If you are so mad at me over something I did or didn’t do, then why would you be wearing my shirt?”

Her cheeks turned so red that they burned. “I was on my way to the garage to throw it in the washing machine. See?” she stammered. “Can we please talk about that night later, even this afternoon or evening when we come over to open the hope chest? Stella and Vivien are coming over to inspect the quilt. They’ll be here in five minutes.”

“I can’t leave. Miz Lucy’s lawyer says that I have to be here when the ladies check out the quilt. That will keep everything aboveboard and legal. If they say y’all did it right, then you can open the hope chest. If you didn’t, I guess I’m stuck with the thing forever, and no one will ever know what’s in it.” Jackson’s tone was downright icy. “I would appreciate it greatly if you would bring my shirt home tonight when you come over to my house.”

“I can do that.” Nessa felt like someone had sucker punched her in the stomach. “Have a seat. I’ll change into a different shirt and put yours in the washing machine.” She whipped around and went to the garage.

“Sweet Lord, why didn’t I think about him being here for the judging?” she muttered as she removed his shirt and put hers on. She tossed his into the machine and added detergent. Then she turned her back and slid down the front of the washing machine with her back to it. She drew her knees up, wrapped her arms around them, and closed her eyes. She hadn’t really prayed in a year, but that morning she did.

Lord, please let Stella and Vivien give us a pass on the quilt, and help me to not look at Jackson’s eyes when I tell him what I think about the way he’s treated me, she said silently.

When she opened her eyes, Stella was standing right in front of her. “Are you all right, child?”

“I’m fine. Just a little headache.” Nessa couldn’t say that the headache was over six feet tall and had gorgeous blue eyes.

“Should we wait to look at the quilt?” Stella extended a hand to help her up.