Lacy chuckles. “That’s like telling the sun not to shine.”
Bear reaches over and tugs Lacy’s thick, blond braid. “I’ll play nice, but I don’t want them to think they’re at Disney.”
On the way to Paradise Springs, I take another quick stop at my property and drop off some more boards and a couple gallons of sealer. I startle a family of deer on the far edge of the property when I drive up to the house.
It’s been a while since I’ve been inside the house. It needs a lot of work, and over the years I’ve chipped away and done some things—put on a new tin roof, refinished the floors and installed new drywall where needed but lately I’ve been ignoring it. I set the boards and the sealer inside, then walk through the house and mentally note what I should accomplish next. As I do, though, I know that I’m making it into a house Wren would love. A house that she’d want to raise a baby in. A house she would want to share with me.
But when I lock up the house and walk to the pickup, I remember what Wren said. How she had enough money to move to France if she wanted. There’s no way she would want to move here with me. I need to temper my expectations, realize that this—her and me—may be short term, and I can’t force it. Because my property, with its old Cracker house in need of rejuvenation, partially surrounded by a marsh filled with gators and mosquitos, with a bumpy trip into the small town of Paradise Springs, is a far cry from France. Even if I swap out my cowboy hat for a beret.
Danni calls when I get back on the road to Paradise Springs. “Somebody posted that photo of Wren early this morning. I just found it. It’s got a million views. I’m on my way over to your place now to talk to her.”
“I’m not there. But you can let yourself in if she doesn’t answer.” I pause. “Why the heck do so many people care about a woman biking into a sign?”
“Because… I can’t tell you.” She sighs. “You don’t know her real name, do you?”
“No.”
“You’ll have to talk to her about that.”
I haven’t even tried to guess. It’s not my business. Until she tells me, I need to focus on her—the woman who’s in front of me. Even if her real name isn’t Wren, I’m beginning to know her heart. That’s all that counts.
Bella is there when I pick up Mom. “She’s ready to go,” Bella says. “Been waiting for a good two hours but we’ve been keeping busy working on a puzzle and taking walks.”
I kiss Mom on the cheek and tell her she looks beautiful. She beams. She’s dressed up like she’s going to church and she’s determinedly clutching two purses instead of one. “I can’t wait to see those cows, John,” she tells me as I escort her to the pickup and we head back to May Ranch.
“Good, because they’ve been asking about you, and they’ll be pleased you dressed up to see them.”
“I dressed up for you.” She laughs, patting my cheek. “Because maybe later you’ll take me out to eatafterwe see the cows.”
“I will. And you’ll meet my friend Wren, who might go with us.”
“Is Wren a woman or a bird?” she asks, teasing.
“A woman.”
Her whole face lights up, like I’m getting married. “Thank goodness for that.”
“She’s just a friend,” I tell her, hoping I’m wrong.
“That’s okay, John. I just wasn’t that excited about meeting a pet bird.” She tucks her two purses next to her and grins at me while I drive back to the house.
Danni calls. I answer on speaker. “Mom and I should be back in a few minutes,” I tell her.
“Wren’s not here.”
“What do you mean she’s not there? Did you let yourself in and check the whole house? She could be sleeping.”
“She wrote a note saying she walked with Monster back to her cottage to get some things but would be back soon.”
I groan. “Okay. Mom and I will swing by her cottage to see if she’s still there.” I backtrack to Heaven.
20
HONEY
After John leavesand I eat as much as I can, I pull out another letter from the shoebox. Like the other two letters, on the front, but scrawled with a pencil in achingly tiny letters is: To you. Yes, you.
Dearest you. Yes, you.
