The late afternoon sun slanted through the cracks in the old barn wall, painting stripes of warm gold across the dusty air thick with the sweet, dry scent of last summer's hay.

Kitty shifted slightly on the mound she'd piled near the hayloft opening, the stalks beneath her thin dress prickling faintly through the worn cotton – a familiar, almost comforting scratchiness against her skin.

But the real focus, the thing tying her stomach into impossible knots, was the warm hand resting lightly in hers.

She sat beside Kitty, leaning back against a bale, face turned towards the view of Clover Hill bathed in the softening light. Her profile was calm, peaceful, maybe even a little tired. Kitty's gaze traced the line of her cheek, the way a stray wisp of hair caught the light, her throat working silently as she swallowed.

Oh lands, Kitty thought, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Gotta say somethin'. Anything. Can't just sit here holdin' hands like a dumbstruck calf. She'll think I'm simple.

Or worse, bored.

She took a shaky breath, the air tasting of dust and dried grass. Her lungs felt tight, the way they always did when panic started its familiar flutter. She glanced down at their joined hands – her own small, pale one looking almost lost in the other's grasp, calloused in different places. Back up to her face, those eyes, that quiet expression... Too close.

Heat flooded Kitty’s cheeks, fierce and sudden. She yanked her gaze away, staring hard at a dusty spiderweb glinting in a sunbeam near the rafters.

"The... the new lambs," she blurted out, her voice higher and thinner than she intended. "Over in Creek Bottom. Patience's twins? They're... gettin' real strong legs now. Benny says they'll be climbers, maybe."

She winced internally. Lambs? Really, Kitty? That's the best you got? She probably thinks I only talk about sheep. Shepherdess could feel the blush creeping down her neck, threatening to meet the high collar of her dress. She fidgeted, a strand of her pale gold hair escaping her shawl and brushing her burning cheek.

The silence stretched, filled only by the distant bleat of a ewe and the buzz of a lazy fly. It felt heavy, pressing down on her.

Suddenly, without conscious thought, Kitty twisted her body, rolling onto her elbow facing her. The movement was sharp, ungraceful, making the hay rustle loudly. Her free hand, the one not still loosely clasping hers, dove into the deep pocket of her faded blue dress. She fumbled for a moment, her fingers closing around the small, slightly wilted bundle she'd gathered earlier, her secret treasure.

"Here!" The word came out too loud, almost a gasp. She thrust her hand forward, a small clutch of wildflowers held out towards her.

Forget-me-nots, their tiny blue faces looking up, and a few sprigs of delicate Queen Anne's lace, their white umbrellas trembling slightly with the force of her movement. Her pale blue eyes were wide, startled by her own audacity, fixed not on her face but somewhere near her shoulder.

"For... for you!" Kitty stammered, her voice dropping to a frantic whisper. She could feel the heat radiating from her face, could practically hear her own frantic heartbeat. "Benny! Benny found 'em. By the crick bend. Said... said they were too pretty just sittin' there. Told me to give 'em to you. Since you're here." She trailed off, breathless, her arm still outstretched, the flowers a fragile, trembling offering.