Franklin slept deeply beside her while his silver lighter rested on the nightstand where an engraved phrase caught the sunlight.
The words read, “The hunter never misses.”
Theresa looked at the lighter and smiled slowly with a quiet expression that carried more danger than anger ever could.
Destroying a garden might be easy, she thought, yet living beside the woman who chose to rebuild it in her own way would prove far more difficult.
Franklin left late that morning to visit the hardware store in Asheville where he claimed he liked to repair his fishing equipment before traveling to Lake Hartwell on weekends. As soon as the truck disappeared down the road Theresa walked outside and crossed the yard toward the shed.
Inside the shed Franklin kept his prized fishing gear arranged with obsessive pride including ten polished rods lined neatly along the wall. Each rod carried a playful name written on tape attached to the handle.
One was labeled The Titan while another read Storm Runner and a third bore the dramatic title Lady of the Lake.
Theresa raised an eyebrow while studying them.
“So you think you have a queen here,” she murmured softly before opening the wooden box that contained fishing worms. She added several drops of vanilla extract until the shed filled with a sweet overpowering scent that no sensible fish would approach.
Next she lifted the artificial bait and carefully applied a few drops of rose oil from a small bottle she had saved since her mother’s funeral.
“Let us see what fish think about the fragrance of an offended garden,” she whispered with quiet amusement.
Finally she laid the fishing rods across a table and used a large pair of scissors to cut the lines at the most complicated knots where repairing them would require patience and skill.
When she finished she wrapped the rods in brown paper and tied them with a bright red ribbon before attaching a small note that read, “For the man who loves order.”
Franklin returned that evening in good spirits while carrying a new box of hooks and two bottles of beer.
“Theresa,” he called happily from the doorway, “we are going to the lake this weekend.”
She looked up from her chair calmly.
“That sounds wonderful,” she replied. “I left you a surprise in the shed.”
A few moments later a furious shout shook the quiet house.