He remembers vividly the first time he met her. It hadn't been that long ago, at an event he had been invited to (albeit begrudgingly) by Mary Margaret. He had moved to the area recently and gotten off to the wrong footing, befriending an older, sweet (or so he thought) woman named Cora, who turned out to be not even remotely sweet. But Mary Margaret, ever the optimist, decided to invite him to the barbecue anyway, and he accepted hoping for a fresh start, a new beginning.
She had looked so beautiful that day, like an angel, long golden curls tumbling down across her shoulders and down the back of her red tank top. It had been hot out, but she was wearing jeans anyway, and despite his initial thought that she looked like heaven personified, she also looked strong, definitely a woman he would not want to mess with.
He had gone over to introduce himself, and though she smiled at his initial approach, he did not miss the slight flinch when he reached out his hand to shake hers. The flash of fear in her eyes was gone almost as quickly as it came, and most people would have missed it, but he was quite perceptive, and he did not.
He dismissed it initially, thinking he had been wrong (although he knew deep down in his gut that he was not), thinking that perhaps a bird had flown by and she had been afraid, or a shadow, or a memory… He should not have dismissed it so easily, he found out later. He should have known right then.
