Page 30 of A Brambleberry Summer

Her dog rose from the rug, where she was cuddled with Hank, and gave the little dog a sorrowful look, then followed Rosa up the stairs to her apartment.

Something seemed to have shifted between her and Wyatt during this evening spent together, but she couldn’t have said exactly what.

He was attracted to her.

She wasn’t sure how she knew that but she did. Maybe that look in his eyes as he had watched his son hug her... Touched, surprised...hungry.

She was imagining things. Wyatt Townsend was certainly not hungry for her.

If he was, it was only because he didn’t know the truth. All the secrets of her past, which she had pushed into the deep corners of herself, where no one else could see.

Chapter Six

Summer evenings along the Oregon coast could be magical, especially when they were clear, with no sign of coastal fog.

As they walked the short distance between Brambleberry House and his sister’s place on Sunday, the air smelled of the sea, mingled with pine and cedar and the flowers that seemed to grow in abundance this time of year, spilling out of flower baskets and brightening gardens.

Independence Day turned out to be perfect. He and Logan had spent the morning fishing in their favorite spot along the nearby river. Even though the fishing was a bust and they didn’t catch anything big enough to keep, Logan still had a great time.

Afterward, they had gone on a hike at one of their favorite trails in Ecola State Park and then had spent the afternoon playing in the sand.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Logan fell asleep early.

Of course, he wasn’t anywhere close to sleeping now. He was having too much fun quizzing Rosa about the Spanish word for everything they passed.

“How do you saymailbox?” Logan asked, pointing to a row of them across the road.

“Buzón.”

“Andhouseiscasa, right?”

“Yes. Very good. And we are walking.Estamos caminando.”

“Yes. To my aunt Carrie’scasa.”

She smiled down at him, looking bright and lovely in the golden evening light. To himself, Wyatt could admit that the main reason the evening seemed particularly beautiful had to do with the woman he was walking beside.

“Excellent,” she said. “You and Carlos will be jabbering up a storm in Spanish before you know it.”

“I think his English will always be better than my Spanish.”

“But you are trying to learn for your friend. That is the important thing. It was very hard for me when I came to this country and could not always find the words I wanted. I am grateful I had very patient family and friends to help me.”

He had to wonder again at her story. She had said her mother died when she was fourteen, which meant she had probably come here by herself. But what were the circumstances that had led to her being adopted by a family in Utah?

None of his business, he reminded himself. She was his landlady, nothing more, though it was hard to remember that on an evening like this, especially when his son slipped his hand in hers, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Rosa looked down at Logan and their joined hands with an expression of astonishment, and then one of wonder, that touched Wyatt deeply.

“How do you saywhale?” Logan asked when they passed a house that had a little whale-shaped bench out front.

“Ballena.”

“What abouttree?”

“Arborio.”

“How aboutlibrary?”

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