"Good. I’d hate to have to shoot you for petty theft,” she mocked and quickly turned to get on her horse.
Elias stood completely still, like the air had escaped his lungs. It was a simple, innocent reminder of the difference between the two of them. He was a thief. He stole from the rich in order to get by. It was stolen money that paid for the kolaches he was about to share with her. What would she think if she knew how he’d made his living? Not as a farmer, as he’d claimed but as a thief.
