Page 96 of The Hermit on the Hill

"Maybe she wanted to protect you from feeling his loss."

Nana hadn't been perfect by any means, but I'd never doubted for a moment that she loved me. Jenna was right, whatever her reason for keeping this picture from me, it had been founded in love.

"He looks so much like you. Do you think he was a grumpy hermit, too?"

Her question broke the tension. I snorted and pinched her hip. "My grandmother never talked about him, and he was from out of town, so the locals wouldn't have known him."

The sound of an engine disturbed our moment. We twisted to see my truck heading right for us, George behind the wheel, May in the passenger seat. I pressed a kiss to Jenna's cheek, helped her to her feet, and stood. Scowling at George, I stalked over to my truck.

He grinned and hopped out. May waved and gestured for Jenna to get in with her. Jenna looked at me in question, and I nodded. It was raining again, better she was dry inside the cab.

"You better not have put a scratch on my truck," I growled at George.

He glanced back at my truck. "How would you be able to tell?"

"I'll be able to tell." Pretending to inspect the truck, I prowled around it, but George was right. Over the years, I'd used and abused it. I took care of it, but I considered it a work vehicle and didn't worry about a few scratches and dings. George didn't need to know that, though. "How you'd get my keys?"

"You left them in the visor." George's tone was all,duh, you're an idiot. "I did you a favor, man. Figured you wouldn't want to try to lug that footlocker through the woods to the house."

"You could have used Cody's or Jared's truck instead of dragging mine through the forest. Did you even take the road?"

There was a dirt road cut through the forest we'd used to cart apples the half-mile back to the house. It was mostly overgrown now, but based on where George had parked, it was possible he'd found it.

"Didn't see any road, but we had fun off-roading." His grin widened when I winced. "Cody and Jared had to get back to work, and they needed their trucks." He shrugged. "Least that's what they said when I suggested we drive up here."

I shook my head, but allowed him to help me load the footlocker into the bed. I tucked the smaller items I'd buried for Jenna into the trunk and hopped in next to it. George looked up at me, eyebrows high. "You're letting me drive back to the house?"

"I prefer to be chauffeured when possible. The road's over there, Jeeves."

George frowned as though he felt I was setting him up for something, but I kept my smile on the inside and scowled. "Can't you see it?"

"I see it. If I didn't have your girlfriend in the cab here, I'd think that road ended in a long drop off a cliff."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not going to prison over you, George Gregory. Get in and drive already. I'm getting wet back here."

He got in and started the engine. Inside, May and Jenna were talking in hushed voices, heads together. That was the real reason I wanted George to drive. I didn't want to interrupt them if they were talking about me.

Jenna deserved all the time I could give her to decide on her next move.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Jenna

Iparked in front of Sam's house, which I guess was now my house, and pulled in a breath. I'd told him I needed time to think, that I wanted us to date and get to know each other more slowly this time.

It had seemed like the sensible thing to do. I loved Sam, but moving in together again right after we'd just gotten back together was a recipe for disaster. Even May had agreed I was doing the right thing.

I needed Sam to woo me until I wholly believed he meant it when he said he loved me. Because he was still the man who wanted a family and would do anything for his son, including convincing himself he loved me when he didn't.

That responsible decision had lasted a week. Sam had sent me flowers and taken me out on two dates. He'd called to talk to me every night before I went to bed and still I missed him and wanted more.

It just felt wrong to be away from him when I wanted so badly to be with him. And, in my gut, I knew he loved me. I felt it down to my toes, had felt it since that day in the apple orchard when he'd seemed so desperate not to lose me.

I'd felt it since he'd taken me shopping for maternity clothes.

It had been there in the way he'd wanted to take care of me, but also the way he supported me in my independence. He wanted me to do what made me happy.

I'd felt it in the way he'd looked at me, the way he'd watched me, the way he couldn't stop touching me.

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