Page 92 of One Small Spark
Her reaction is understandable. She’s only ever seen Wren and me bicker. Suddenly, we’re caught leaving Wren’s bedroom? I’d have questions, too.
“Callahan has trouble sleeping at night all alone in his cabinin the woods,” Wren tells her. “I offered him one of my little stuffies to comfort him.”
I lift the green mutant still clutched in my hand and shake it as evidence. Mostly to get Sheriff O’Grady’s steely gaze off of me. It doesn’t work.
Wren’s sass seems to break her mother out of her confusion. “You’ll have to forgive her, Shepherd. Snark is her love language.”
“I’m used to it.” I’m also used to the pert frown on her mouth. Probably disliking a very specific word in that sentence.
“Shepherd.” The sheriff holds out his hand, and we shake. “Mo says that’s Wren’s old bike in the back of your truck.”
I admire the way he’s asking me a question without actually asking. Not that I’d want to endure much direct questioning from him about Wren.
She hasn’t been straightforward with them, but I opt for honesty. About this much, anyway. “I’m going to fix it up for her so she can ride with August.”
Maureen reacts as if I told her I rescue children from burning buildings in my spare time. “Oh, Shepherd, how sweet. August will love that.”
“But don’t say anything to him until I’m ready,” Wren adds. “Just in case it turns out I can’t actually ride anymore.”
“You can always learn again,” I tell her.
“Very close to doing things,” she sing-songs.
Her ridiculousness brings out a rumble of laughter. “I forgot we would hate that.”
“Are you staying for dinner?” the sheriff asks me. I can’t quite bring myself to think of him as Daniel. Especially not when he’s sizing me up like he’s searching for evidence. “Mo and I are going to make butternut squash mac and cheese.”
“He would, but Callahan is a busy man.” Wren nudges my arm, apparently trying to herd me through the house.
“I promised my sister I’d go see her progress at the lodge,” I tell him honestly. “If I don’t follow through, there will be blowback.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing the renovated barn at the gala,” Maureen says. “It’s going to be a special evening from all I hear.”
“That’s the rumor.” Not that I know enough to confirm or deny. Acquaintances and even a few customers have asked me about it. I have to refer them to the lodge’s website.
“We can take a rain check on dinner.” The sheriff snakes an arm around Maureen’s waist. “Another night, maybe with the whole family.”
“I—”
Wren practically body slams me, one arm around my back, the other on my chest, urging me sideways. I appreciate the lack of personal space, but her desperation to get rid of me doesn’t give me warm fuzzies.
“We don’t want to make Callahan late for Charlie. She’ll tear him a new one.”
“Wren.” Maureen looks ready to deliver a reprimand, but Wren’s already pushing me through the living room toward the back door.
“It was good to see you.” I lift a hand as Wren manhandles me outside. Once she gets the door slammed shut behind us and we’re in the safety of the driveway, I look down at her. “That was subtle.”
“It’s kind of soon for family dinners, isn’t it?”
Her reluctance makes sense. Squeezes something tender in my chest, but makes sense. This thing between us is new. I wouldn’t want to be on display at a family dinner, either.
Except…with Wren, I wouldn’t mind. But she’s not there yet.
“I mean, yes, he’s sometimes here when Tess and Augustand Ian come over for dinner, but now he’s issuing invitations for the whole family?” She wraps her arms around herself. “A little presumptuous if you ask me.”
The tightness in my chest eases like somebody lifted a bowling ball off of it. Which is insensitive, since Wren is clearly uncomfortable about the changes with her mom’s relationship. But for a minute there, I thought she was taking two major steps back inours.
I can’t make demands, but I want all the forward momentum.
