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the
crates of blackberries that had been brought to her that morning,
she was excited about getting started on them as well. She moved to
the pot on the stove to see how the soap was coming along. She
loved the smell of the pink flowers she’d found in the wooded area
yesterday.
    “ What is the difference
between jam and jelly?” Her assistant, Jane Holloway, a young girl
from the local college, looked at her. “Jam and jelly. What’s the
difference?”
    As with all people, Judith had avoided
touching the young girl. They had come close a few times, but she’d
managed in the three weeks that Jane had been coming to help her
not to touch even her clothing. But lately, like today, it seemed
as if Jane had it in her head to touch her, and Judith was getting
annoyed by it.
    Judith tried to think of her question
and when she remembered, she nodded toward what she’d been working
on. Keeping her distance, she explained the differences.
    “ Jelly is made from fruit
juice; jam is made from the pulp of juice, or sometimes simply
crushed fruit. And preserves, which I also make, has chunks of
fruit in it, like whole strawberries or other fruits.” Judith
picked up the jam that was cool now and set the small jar on the
window shelf. She set the other two kinds, all strawberry, on the
same shelf. “See the difference?”
    Agon came up behind her and looked,
too. She wanted to scream at him to back off, but she had figured
out earlier that no one could see the two men but her. Not even
Benny had remarked on them when he’d come by an hour ago to ask her
a few more questions. Instead of asking Agon to move, she backed
into him to get him to move out of her bubble, the area she claimed
as her own. It was a mistake, and she knew it the moment he wrapped
his arm around her waist.
    “ You smell like your
jams.” His breath, like his words, fanned over her neck when he
spoke near her ear. “I would very much like to see if you taste as
good as I believe you would. For as much as I do not want a wife,
the thought of tasting every part of you has me wanting
more.”
    Moving away from him was the hardest
thing she’d ever done in her life. He didn’t pull her back to him,
which surprised her. Men, in her experience, did not give up so
easily. She wondered if this was some sort of trick he was playing
on her just to throw her off. Moving back to her stove, she stirred
the kettles as she tried her best to get control of
herself.
    They worked until just after two. Jane
had a class and needed to be there. After a lengthy conversation
with the other man, Agon sat down on the counter and the other man
left. She had to take several deep breaths when she nearly messed
up measuring the sugar three times.
    “ I could help you.” She
didn’t answer him. It had worked before, ignoring the men who were
there to watch her. But she had a deep feeling that Agon wasn’t
going to be easily dissuaded. “It is customary to answer someone
when they speak to you, is it not?”
    “ Not when you don’t want
them here.” She poured the sugar into the pot and looked at him.
“Why don’t you just leave? I don’t want you here. And in the event
you didn’t notice, there was someone else sent here to watch over
me.”
    “ He will not be coming
back.” She looked at Agon when he hopped off the counter and came
near her. She moved back when he was entering her space, and he
stopped. “I will not harm you.”
    “ So I’ve been told before.
I’d very much like it if you would go back over there. I don’t want
you near me.” He nodded but didn’t move. “Whatever is going through
your mind right now is not—”
    “ What does it feel like to
kiss? I mean, to kiss a woman that has lips that seem to call to
you, with a scent that no other human has but you? Will you taste
of the berries you have eaten as you work? Will you be all the
sweeter for them? Or will you taste of honey, the sweetest thing I
have ever had the pleasure of eating?” She