Chapter Six
The forecast predicted snow tonight, and Wes felt it in his bones. He refused to let it interfere with his run, though. For the first time in over a month, he had an evening free. No houses to show, no corporate events to represent the realty company he worked for, and his parents had Myla over for a sleepover through the weekend.
He thought he’d enjoy this weekend without a child, and he had so far, but he missed the noise. A quiet house satisfied him for five minutes before he realized he’d become accustomed to Myla’s constant chatter and running. The silence felt unnatural and lonely, so he’d gone for a run, despite the cold temperature.
Even in Vermont, snowfall in October was an unusual occurrence. When he’d told Myla about it earlier, before dropping her off, she’d been torn between excitement and worry that Halloween would be ruined. He’d assured her the snow wouldn’t last until Tuesday, and even if for some reason it did, the church would move their annual Hallelujah Treat Fest indoors. Myla was in no danger of missing out on wearing her frilly pink princess costume, complete with a tiara.
His phone rang near the end of his run. After what had happened last time he’d ran along this path, he was reluctant to answer, but this time was different. He had a child under his care, and if something had happened to her, he didn’t want to miss the call. When he glanced at the screen, however, he saw the call came from an unknown number.
He slipped it back in his pocket. One day he’d get those headphones with a built-in microphone so he could talk and run without holding his phone, but he was one of those rare people who didn’t like listening to music while he ran. Because of that, and the fact he found them to be a nuisance, he didn’t want to wear earbuds just for the off chance he’d get an important call during that time.
Once back to his car, he checked his phone and saw the caller had left a message. He dialed into his voicemail, taken aback by what he heard. The call had come from Paige Hopkins, the girl he’d run into.How’d she get my number? She didn’t say much, except to leave a callback number.
Strange. Curiosity got the better of him. He sat in his car and returned her call.
“Hello,” she answered on the second ring. “Wes?”
“Yes. I just got your message to call.” His questioning tone came out strong, even to his ears.
“I hope you don’t mind, but Mrs. Bryant gave me your number. She was babysitting your niece the day I dropped off some pies, and I recognized Myla.” Her voice wavered, and she sounded nervous. “We started talking, and she shared your story, or rather your sister’s.”
His fist clenched. He didn’t like for people to air his family’s dirty laundry, but he knew Mrs. Bryant wouldn’t have spread it without good reason. “How much did she tell you?”
“Enough to know I should have let you explain instead of brushing off your apology. I’m sorry I treated you rudely.” The sound of tapping fingernails came through the line.
Or was it from him? He hadn’t realized he’d undone his fist and tapped the steering wheel. “You don’t owe me an apology whatsoever. I take full responsibility, and I truly am sorry. I was worried about Jenna that day, and it overruled all other senses.”
“Regardless, I feel bad.”
“Please don’t.” He chuckled. “Then we’ll get into a case of feeling bad for the other feeling bad because we both feel bad.”
She laughed. “I can’t argue with that logic.”
“You mentioned at the farm I ruined your shoes. If you text me your address, I’d like to send you a check to replace them.”
“Absolutely, not.” Her refusal came firm and irrefutable. “I may have been overdramatic when I said they were ruined. There’s no reason I can’t still wear them, and it’s inconsequential compared to what you’re going through.”
He covered the microphone and sighed. An apology didn’t seem enough, but what else could he do? “Can I take you to dinner one evening, then? Just my way of sayingI’m sorry.”
The offer slipped out before he processed what he’d said. There’s no way she’d accept that invitation.
“Let’s make a deal.” She cleared her throat. “Since we both feel the need to make amends, how about I’ll go to dinner with you if you bring Myla to the Christmas Fest starting the first week in December—my treat, of course.”
Surprised, he stuttered when giving an answer. “It’s a deal. Are you free at all this weekend? My parents have Myla until Sunday.”
“This is our final big fall weekend, and I’ll be working every hour we’re open.” To his further astonishment, her voice held a hint of disappointment.
“You have my number. When you have a night off, let me know, and I’ll get a sitter for Myla.”
“And cause you more inconvenience?” She chuckled. “That defeats the whole purpose. Besides, she can join us for dinner. I wouldn’t mind.”
“If you recall, the dinner is my atonement to you, and it’s not an inconvenience to get a sitter. If Mom can’t, Mrs. Bryant will, and they both adore her.” He leaned back comfortably in the seat, realized he was enjoying this banter.
“I have another idea. We close at seven on Saturdays, and I can finagle leaving a few minutes early. If you don’t mind a late dinner, we can go tomorrow.”
“That sounds great. What time should I pick you up and where?” He pulled a pen and napkin from the console to write directions.
“Seven thirty. I live on the farm’s property, but if you come in through the main entrance, you’ll get caught in the departing traffic. There’s a non-commercial gate off Tanner Road. Do you know where that is?”
