![]() ![]() It blended with the landscape and served as a landmark of a time long past. He’d always loved that about it, the quiet, powerful aura of permanence, stability. The building had been designed to feel like the farm stores of a hundred years ago. Thomas drew in a steadying breath, taking in the pleasing smell of old wood. There was no way that voice could belong to who he thought it did. Goddamn it, there was no way it could be… The sprawling wooden farmhouse and barn which his father had turned into a hardware store supplying this part of rural North Carolina area was hell and gone from New York City. ![]() It was a male voice, the words as unintelligible as her response, but something about that voice stirred something in his lower belly. But when he heard the customer speak to his sister, he raised his head. He was in the back tagging a wood chipper for repair and Celeste was out front to handle visitors. When the shop bells over the store entrance rang, Thomas didn’t pay much attention. ![]()
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