Wide Open Spaces (Shooting Stars #2) - Aurora Rose Reynolds Page 0,45
as I can, but by the time winter is over, we are always out of them.
“I need to take Hunter berry picking and learn how to can them myself.”
“I’d be happy to teach you, and if you let me know when you’re going picking, the girls and I will come along.”
“I would love that. I found some of my mom’s old canning stuff, so I’d love to learn how to use it.”
She smiles a small smile, nodding, then asks, “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“No,” I say softly, wondering if I should remember her.
“You were young, maybe six the last time I saw you,” she replies, then goes back to the pie. “Your mom would bring you along when we went salmon berry picking in the summers. That’s why I made this pie tonight. She told me once it was your favorite.”
“It is, but I don’t remember.”
She nods, sliding a piece of pie onto the plate in front of me. “Well, you look just like her. Paul said you did, but when I saw you tonight, I couldn’t believe just how much you look like her. She was a good friend to me. I know I wasn’t around when she passed away, but if you need anything, I’m here now.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly, and she nods again.
“Paul’s really glad you’re home. He talked about you a lot over the years, and always wanted to reach out but didn’t know if he should,” she confides.
“I forgot,” I whisper to myself, closing my eyes briefly.
“Pardon?” she asks, placing another piece of pie on a plate.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat, suddenly feeling emotional. “I forgot about this.” I motion around at everything, because it is everything. “I forgot this is why I was happy here. I blocked it out.”
“I still don’t understand, sweetie.”
“Having people care about you, even people who are strangers,” I explain, and her mouth goes soft.
“I forgot too, until I moved back. It’s not the same anywhere else, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” I agree, and she bumps my shoulder with hers.
“You’re lagging behind, sweetie.”
Laughing, I get to scooping out the ice cream, and then we call the kids into the kitchen and they swarm like a starving pack of lions. By the time we are all done devouring our dessert, it’s time to call it a night, and it’s one more night I wish didn’t have to end.
Chapter 8
Shelby
Waking, I feel Zach behind me in bed and can’t help but smile as I open my eyes slightly.
“I know you’re awake,” he says against my shoulder. Feeling his lips there as he places a kiss, I soak in the feeling then roll over to face him.
It’s been a little over three week since we had dinner with Paul and his family, and since then, we’ve told the kids we’re seeing each other and had dinner together every night, bouncing between Zach’s house and mine, with Aubrey and me cooking and the boys doing the cleaning up, unless we ate out or ordered a pizza. It’s been nice—more than nice. I love having Zach and the kids around, and I know Hunter does too.
“Are you still asleep after all?” he asks with a chuckle, taking me out of my thoughts. He runs his finger down my cheek, causing my eyes to slide closed.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Sorry for waking you.”
“I told you to wake me when you got here if I was asleep. I wanted to know you were home,” I reply, and his eyes move to my shoulder and cloud. “What’s wrong?” I move my hand to rest against his chest and his eyes come back to me.
“Nothing.”
“Please tell me,” I say softly, and he places his hand over mine, locking my palm over his heart.
“I like that you call wherever you are ‘home.’”
“Zach.” My fingers flex against his chest and my heart rate speeds up.
“She never gave that to me or the kids,” he continues, and my muscles tense. “She didn’t want me to wake her when I got home. We didn’t have dinners together or spend time as a family together, and not having a home myself growing up, I wanted that for my kids and me, more than I wanted anything else in this world.”
“Then why did you marry her?” I ask, wondering if I’m really ready to go there with him, but it’s too late to change my mind. The question is out, and as much as I don’t want to know the answer, I need to know the