Page 64 of River Wild

My stomach rumbles.

I press my hand to it. I had breakfast not that long ago. But this baby is greedy. I’m going to be rolling around by the end of this pregnancy if the baby has anything to do with it.

River walks straight over to the counter, putting the box down on it, and is greeted by a woman in her seventies at least.

“River, always good to see you. What do you have for me today?” She nods down at the box.

I want to know, too. But River doesn’t answer her question.

I move to stand beside him. The woman’s eyes go to me.

“Hi.” I smile.

“Hi.”

“I’m Carrie, River’s neighbor,” I introduce myself because he clearly has no intention of doing so.

“It’s nice to meet you, Carrie. I’m Ellie. I own this fine place.”

“It’s a wonderful store,” I tell her. “I love the decorations you have up outside. And I was just admiring the glass tree ornaments in the window. Especially the train. It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, River is—”

“Here for a Christmas tree,” he cuts her off. “Not me. Her.” He jerks his thumb at me.

I stare at him. He’s acting strange. Well, stranger than normal.

A smile touches Ellie’s lips. Almost like a knowing smile.

“What kind of tree are you after?” she asks me.

“Are there different types?”

She smiles kindly at me. “Quite a few.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. I’ve never bought a Christmas tree before.” I feel a bit pathetic, making that admission.

“River knows the tree types. He used to come in every Christmas to pick one out with his mama. Such a beauty Mary was. Could’ve been a model on the runways, but then she … well, yes, and then, after Mary was gone, of course, he’d come in with his grandmother. But that stopped, when Greta passed. A real friend to me was Greta.” She sighs sadly. “After she was gone, River stopped buying a Christmas tree. Maybe you can talk him into getting one again.”

I guess that answers my question about Gran. She died.

But what happened to his mom?

My eyes move to River, and he’s frozen still beside me. His face a mask. Body like a statue.

Concern fills me. “River,” I quietly say his name.

“Oh, look at me, going on.” Ellie blinks, seeming to realize that maybe she said a bit too much. “Old age getting the better of me. How about you and I sort through the things that you brought in for me, River, and I’ll get Macy to help Carrie pick out a Christmas tree? Macy!” Ellie calls out.

“River.” I touch his hand with mine.

He blinks, looking down at me, like he’s remembering that I’m still here.

I see that vulnerability there in his eyes just for the briefest of moments, and then it’s gone. His eyes are back to being closed off.

“You wanted me, Ellie?” A female voice cuts through the silence.

My eyes follow the sound of the voice to a woman, who looks to be around my age, maybe a few years younger. She’s really pretty. Long, dark hair tied up into one of those messy buns that I’ve never been able to perfect. Wide brown eyes rimmed with long black lashes, set in a heart-shaped face. And an innocence about her that tells me she’s only known good things in her life.