"I wish you hadn't done that," the stranger said.
"I wish you had never come here," Kesley retorted. It was like a nightmare. He felt blind, unable to defend himself, unable even to understand the source of the attack.
Loren was watching the scene in utter horror, and Kesley noticed a couple of the farm girls standing a short distance away, watching, too. The stranger stood with arms folded.
"Let's go inside," he suggested. "We can talk better in there."
Kesley remained rooted, unable to think, unable to move. "This is my farm," he said out loud, after a moment. "Isn't it?" It was nearly a whimper.
The harshness vanished abruptly from the stranger's face. Kesley watched uncomprehendingly as hard lines melted, sharp cheekbones no longer seemed so austere. It was the eyes, he thought curiously. They controlled the expression of the face. And now the cold eyes seemed to radiate warmth.
"Of course this is your farm," the stranger said. He gripped Kesley's arm. "They really did a job on you, didn't they?"
"They?"
"Never mind. I don't want to hurt you any more than I have already. Let's go inside, and we can talk about it in there."