Page 34 of Wren's Winter

I wouldn’t be able to wear a bra, but that was okay.

What did he think this was between us?

I could pair either with jeans, and they’d be nice enough for anything in town.

Were his feelings growing the way mine were?

Sinking beside my suitcase, I glanced at myself in the floor-length mirror. What was I doing? It had been years since I worked myself up over a man. My hair was a riot of untamed curls. A shower at his place seemed like a good idea in my lust-filled haze, but without my products, my hair was rebelling worse than a petulant child.

Hair tamed first, then clothes.

Working the defining crème into my hair, my curls took shape. It wasn’t as good as if I had used the right products in the first place but looked ten times better.

From its spot on the wooden nightstand, my phone chimed with a call. How the phone wasn’t destroyed in the river, I wasn’t sure but thank goodness for inner-zipper pockets in waterproof jackets.

I glanced at the screen, expecting it to be Summer, to see my mother’s picture flash.

“Hi, Mom.” The phone wedged between my shoulder and my ear. I rooted around in my suitcase for the camisole.

“Wren, I just had the most bizarre conversation.”

“Oh?” Finally finding the top I wanted, I held it up, shaking it a few times to get the bigger wrinkles out. It would have to do.

“Beaufort called us, worried sick about you. Apparently, he’s been calling you, but you haven’t been answering.”

“I blocked his number, Mom. There is no reason he needs to call me.”

“Well, he’s concerned something happened to you.”

“I’m not sure why. He’s not my boyfriend anymore. He dumped me, remember?”

“It’s hard to tell from such a brief conversation, but I get the impression he regrets that decision.”

More like he regrets not having someone tidy up his shoes every night.

“Did he need anything?”

My mother sighed, and I could picture her on my Aunt’s back porch, a teacup beside her, wearing her linen pants and flowy embroidered shirt. “Not that he mentioned, no. But it’s just a sense that I have. You know how I get those.”

My mother’s “senses” had about a sixty percent accuracy rate. I was pretty sure it was the same intuition everyone had, but she liked to assign some borderline psychic ability to it.

“Mom, you can hear I’m fine. I’m meeting up with some friends…” Adrian’s friends, but I didn’t want to send her into a tizzy about my being alone in this cabin. “I should start getting ready.”

“I still don’t understand what happened with you two. I sensed he was the one for you…”

Drop that accuracy down to fifty-five percent now.

“...and a nice big wedding. Even if his father is a Cougars fan. He was such a nice boy. I suppose we could have overlooked that.”

“Mom. We broke up. Buck dumped me, and I am fine. Better than fine, actually.”

“He sounded so sad and scared when he called.”

“Mom.” My voice was sharper now. “He dumped me. I am not responsible for that man’s emotions any longer. I love you, but I have to go.”

She huffed loudly into the receiver, and I had to pull the phone from my ear. “No need to get testy, Wren Alyse.”

“I’m not testy. I’m running behind. Give Dad a hug and let Aunt Cathy know I miss her.”

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