Page 29 of Wild Child
That would be absolutely true.
It would be.
Eventually, I would convince myself of that.
A pair of headlights approached and drew me from my too-desperate thoughts, then stopped in a parking spot. Seconds later, a head of not-so-natural blonde hair appeared, then warm arms wrapped me in a hug. I held Devin’s mother, Millie, close to me for a full five seconds. The smell of chamomile and potpourri gave me an undeniable comfort.
“I’d ask you where you’ve been the past few days,” she murmured quietly, “but I already know the answer, so I’m satisfied with just letting you know that you have been missed by both Mac and me and the horses.”
When she pulled away, I gave her a sheepish smile. Normally, I stopped by the Blaine house three or four times a week. I rode their horses, cleaned the barn, dealt with the hay, and did odd jobs outside that Mac's back wouldn't allow him to do. With Devin home, they didn’t need me to do that work.
Or that’s what I told myself.
“Thanks,” I said.
Behind her came the rummaging sounds of someone in the bed of a truck. I caught a glimpse of Devin’s muscled arm just before he hopped in the truck bed and reached for something. Millie squeezed my hands, then let them go.
“Later,” she said earnestly. “We need to talk.”
I nodded. She had likely come to drop him off just to see me, and I appreciated the quick, maternal connection that she provided. Bethany had become my sister-mama, but there was something about Millie that felt more naturally maternal. My brightest memory of Millie was the moments after I’d attacked, toppled, and almost killed Jim at the Frolicking Moose. Both Devin and I had been terrified and shaking. The moment Millie had seen me, she clucked, reprimanded, and hugged me as fiercely as she did Devin, as if I was her own.
That’s when I knew that I belonged to her, too.
The thud of a falling bag brought me out of my memories. Devin shut the tailgate, a stuffed backpacking bag at his feet. For being almost 5:00 am, he didn’t seem like he’d just gotten up. Did he struggle with sleeping after his deployment?
His eyes were clear as glass as they met mine.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hey.”
Millie blew us both a kiss, admonished us to be safe, promised to pray for us with her Bible study group, and the truck drove away minutes later. That left Devin and I staring at each other in the parking lot. My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth. Was I supposed to thank him for coming? Probably. I couldn’t deny there was a sense of relief and safety that came with him being there.
But on the other hand . . .
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m not sure you wanted to spend almost six days away from your parents when you were just deployed.”
He grinned and ripped open a zipper in his bag to rummage inside. “No worries, Ellie. I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to get back into the mountains. Daniel approached me the day after our canoe ride. Couldn’t say yes fast enough.” He stood, one eyebrow raised. “Are you okay with it?”
My nostrils flared, and I took too long to consider my answer.
“Yes,” I finally said, “with the understanding that we’re . . . I mean . . . there’s no expectation for more.”
His expression became a wordless question. I swallowed hard.Idiot,I thought to myself. What was I babbling about? Why would there be an expectation for more? All Devin had ever expected of me was friendship.
This weekend was off to a great start.
“I just mean that . . . we . . . let’s leave everything behind us. The history is back there and doesn’t matter for now. So . . . we can do this guide and then part as acquaintances, the way we are now.”
Acquaintancesmade my brain trip, and I almost couldn’t get the word out. He paused for the briefest breath. In that span, his gaze darkened a little. The shadow passed when he nodded.
“Of course.”
His quick response should have been a relief, but it stung instead. I forced a smile.
“Great. Once they get here, we’ll drive up to the trailhead in separate cars. You can ride with me.”
“You got it.”
