Picture Perfect Read Online Free PDF Page B

blow.
    The anger ran out of him. He stood quietly, waiting for the rage to clear out of his vision. He did not say anything.
    Jane lowered her arms and stiffly got to her feet, but she wouldn’t look Will in the eye. “I thought I’d be helping you,” she said. “I wanted to thank you for everything, and this seemed to be the best way.” Her eyes raked the wall where the little leather pouch hung beside the painted hunting scene. “I could always change things if you don’t like them hanging this way.”
    â€œI don’t like them hanging at all,” Will said, lifting the moccasins from their spot on the fireplace mantel. He grabbed an empty carton and began tossing the items back inside.
    Jane knelt beside the box and tried to organize the fragile pieces so they wouldn’t be crushed. She had to do it carefully; she had to make it right. She ran her fingers over the feathers of the small leather pouch. “What is this?”
    Will barely glanced at what she was holding. “A medicine bundle,” he said.
    â€œWhat’s in it?”
    Will shrugged. “The only people who know are my great-great-grandfather and his shaman, and both of them are dead.”
    â€œIt’s beautiful,” Jane said.
    â€œIt’s worthless,” Will tossed back. “It’s supposed to keep you safe, but my great-great-grandfather was gored by a buffalo.” He turned to see Jane fingering the bundle, and his face softened as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to go off like that. I just don’t like these things hanging where I can see them all the time.”
    â€œI thought you’d want something to remind you of where you came from,” Jane said.
    Will sank to the floor. “That’s exactly what I ran away from,” he said. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking to change the subject. “How’re you feeling?”
    She blinked at him, noticing for the first time that he was wearing the blue shirt of a police officer, the LAPD patch over his upper arm. “You’re wearing a uniform,” she blurted out.
    Will smirked. “You were expecting a headdress?”
    Jane stood up and offered her hand to Will, pulling him to his feet. “I remembered how to cook,” she said. “You want dinner?”
    She had fried chicken, steamed beans, and baked potatoes. Will carried the platter to the center of the living room floor and chose a breast for each of them, placing the meat onto two plates. He told her about his first day of work, and she told him how she’d gotten lost on her way to the market. The sun bled through the windows and cast Jane and Will into silhouette as they fell into an easy silence.
    Will picked at the pieces of the chicken, sucked the meat from the bones. Suddenly, he felt Jane’s hand close over his. “Oh, let’s do this,” she said, her eyes bright, and he realized he was holding the wishbone.
    He pulled and she pulled, the white bones slipping through their greasy fingers, and finally he came away with the bigger piece. Disappointed, Jane leaned back against a stack of boxes. “What did you wish for?”
    He had wished for her memory, but he wouldn’t tell her. “If you say it, it won’t come true,” he said, surprising himself. He smiled at Jane. “My mother used to say that. In fact, she was the last person who pulled a wishbone with me.”
    Jane hugged her knees to her chest. “Does she live in South Dakota?”
    He almost didn’t hear her question, as he was thinking about the fine curve of his mother’s jaw and the spark of her copper hair. He pictured her hand and his own curled over the edges of the forked chicken bone, and he wondered if her wishes had ever come true. Will looked up. “My mother died when I was nine, in a car accident with my father.”
    â€œOh, how