Page 122 of Huckleberry Hill
“You’ll bring protection?” Muddy asked.
“Muddy!” I laughed.
She rolled her eyes. “I meant a pistol. And bear spray.”
“Yes, we’ll bring those. It seems the bear cried off though. So that’s good.”
“It is good.” She nodded. Her eyes met mine. “Are you doing okay? Yesterday was a lot.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m okay. I’ve decided I’m going to tell Declan the truth tonight.”
“Good.”
“We’ll see.” I shrugged. “I can’t keep it to myself any longer.”
I thought about his conversation with Bowman and the brand sponsorship that was on the horizon. He said he didn’t want that life anymore, but what would happen when he learned I couldn’t give him a family? Hell, I didn’t even know if Declan wanted a family. I’d been too chicken shit to ask him.
“Did I ever tell you about your grandfather and me getting together?” Muddy asked, setting her crocheting into the basket underneath the end table near the fireplace.
I paused as I searched my memory. “I don’t think so.”
She nodded. “Thought so. We got married after sixteen days of knowing each other.”
I gasped. “No!”
“Yes.” She smiled, her eyes misty as she clearly thought about her late husband.
“How did you two meet?”
“I was a waitress in a nothing town. His truck broke down outside the diner where I worked. He came in to use the phone to call a tow truck, but . . .”
“But?” I pressed.
She grinned, her eyes flashing with wickedness. “He forgot completely about calling for the truck because the moment we looked at each other, that’s all either of us saw. He stayed with me until the diner closed and then . . .”
“Muddy!”
“Yeah, sugar. Your grandpa came home with me. And the next morning, he called the tow truck and then started packing my bags. He brought me here and we were married fifteen days later.”
“Wow. That’s intense.”
“Yes, it was. You’re probably asking yourself why I’m telling you this now. Well, I’m telling you this story because it’s not the norm. But it was right for us. And we were so happy.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Muddy.”
“What time are you guys leaving for the hot spring?”
“Probably dusk,” I said. “He’s never been to the hot spring.”
“Well, it’s about time you showed it to him. It’s special, that spring. I swear it’s got a little bit of magic in it.”
“Does it?” I asked wistfully. “It didn’t help Mom.”
“It helped her the way it was supposed to.”
“What do you mean? The cancer still took her.”
“You don’t know, do you?”
