Chapter 4
WYNTER
The lights from Marcus’s truck disappeared, and that was when Wynter whirled around and stared open-mouthed at her grandmother. “What on earth was that?”
To her credit, Grams looked up at her with blinking innocence. “What are you talking about, dear?”
Jabbing a finger at the door, Wynter said, “You invited him to come back!”
Grams grinned. “He’s always been such a good boy.”
“Argh!” Wynter shut her eyes tight. “He’s not a boy anymore, Grams.”
“And you’re not a young girl.”
Wynter’s eyes flew wide and she gaped at her grandmother. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Standing, Grams folded her arms. “Don’t you try to convince me that there wasn’t something between the two of you.”
“There wasn’t—”
Grams scoffed. “There wasn’t? Even your grandfather could tell there was something brewing. Why do you think he was always so curious whenever Marcus came around? He watched that young man like a hawk because he knew one day—”
“What? That Marcus and I would fall in love with each other and live happily ever after? Because I’ll let you in on a secret.
That’s fairytale talk. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen every day.
That kind of stuff doesn’t happen often at all.
More than likely, men and women get divorced and their lives are ruined. ”
Grams frowned, and the pain in her eyes nearly had Wynter wishing she could take everything back. But she didn’t. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
Wynter shrugged.
So many unspoken words hung in the air. Wynter could tell her grandmother that, logically speaking, true love didn’t exist. That in the end, people left—whether by their own choice or from passing away. Either way, it was safer not to have to depend on anyone.
“Six years ago, you ran away,” Grams said.
“I didn’t run away,” Wynter insisted.
“You kissed that boy, and you felt something. Don’t bother denying it. I saw it in that moment.”
Wynter groaned and trudged off toward the kitchen with the food Marcus had brought. “It doesn’t matter what you saw, Grams. Six years is a long time. Not only that, but I never wanted to get married. I never planned on falling in love.”
“And you think that you have control over that? Love isn’t planned, dear. It’s a blessing we can only hope to be given.”
Snorting with derision, Wynter started pulling out Tupperware containers of various meals so she could place them in the freezer.
“I can appreciate that you’re bored, and you want nothing more than to watch me find happiness or love or some other nonsense.
But let me point out something. Marcus and I couldn’t be any more different.
Do you even remember what he was like when we were younger? ”
“I remember the way he looked at you.”
Wynter lifted her eyes to her grandmother but didn’t press her for more details. “He was a jock. The popular kid. Everyone, and I mean everyone, loved him.”
“You are part of that group, Wynter.”
“Yeah, well, we were friends. Of course I cared about him.” Her brows furrowed.
“Care. I care about him.” The twinge in her heart reminded her that the pumping organ in her chest had never fully healed after walking away from Marcus all those years ago.
“Even if we weren’t different, too much time has passed for any notions of love.
I wouldn’t even know how to be friends with him, let alone something more.
” She shook her head. “It’s crazy to even consider.
” Then she set her firm gaze on her grandmother.
“And you need to accept it. Because I’m not going to be sticking around here past February. ”
“You’re wrong.”
Two words. That’s all Grams had in her arsenal, and yet they were more detrimental than Wynter would ever admit. Marcus had been her everything. She’d been content to have his friendship even though she knew there were more feelings hovering beneath the surface.
But then that kiss had ruined everything. It had been the catalyst for those dormant feelings to rise to the surface and demand to be acknowledged. Wynter hadn’t been strong enough to ignore them—or at least she knew she wouldn’t be if she stuck around Copper Creek at all.
She sighed. “I’m really not, Grams.”
Her grandmother huffed and threw up her hands as she left the kitchen.
Placing both hands on the counter, Wynter attempted to push out images of the man who had been larger than life in her living room.
He was a good five inches taller than her.
His skin still looked sun-kissed, and his mop of dark hair had grown long enough to curl around his ears.
In high school, he’d kept it cut short while he played football.
Now, he paired his longer hair with a beard.
He looked so good. Something told her his athletic training had done him well over the years.
Suddenly, her grandmother appeared in front of her. She placed a shoebox on the counter, then moved it toward her expectantly.
Wynter glanced up at her grandmother. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
She sighed. “Grams…”
“Don’t Grams me. Open the box, will you, please?”
Wynter reached for the box and pulled off the lid. Inside were several pictures and some cards. Her brows creased as she pulled out a picture that had to have been taken shortly after they’d moved to Copper Creek.
She sat with Marcus out beneath the maple tree in the front yard.
They each leaned against the trunk. She had a book in her hands—most likely one about bugs.
Based on the look on her face, she was animatedly talking about something she’d learned.
But Marcus was looking at her. There was a grin on his face, one she was all too familiar with.
Grams moved behind her as she pulled out another photograph. Most of the images captured were candid. But there were some where they smiled at the camera. “Whether you want to admit it or not, that boy liked you.”
Wynter rolled her eyes. “I know he liked me, Grams—”
“It was more than that, dear. He cared for you. And…” Her voice trailed off, then took on a somber quality. “Then you left.”
“I had to, Grams.”
“Why?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Wynter flinched. “Maybe both.”
“I know you have a box of your own. One that holds the various mementos you’ve collected over the years. Perhaps it’s time you pull it out and remember what it was like. What the two of you had.”
Stifling a groan, Wynter placed the lid on the box and handed it back to her grandmother. “I don’t need to look through old photographs to remember. My memory is a lot sharper than yours.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Wynter shook her head. “Go sit down. I’ll fix us one of these meals and we can put on a movie.”
Grams opened her mouth, but the warning look on Wynter’s face must have been enough to put an end to whatever she was going to say.
Over the next couple of hours, they did exactly what Wynter suggested. Thankfully, Grams didn’t try to push the subject of Marcus and a future that Wynter couldn’t have. She knew her heart better than anyone.
Marriage was not in the cards for her. Honestly, she didn’t even want it.
The probability of heartbreak was but one of the reasons.
She’d grown out of her childish desire to settle down and have a family.
She liked her freedom. People usually let her down.
If she didn’t like a job or the people she worked with, she loved that she could pick up and move somewhere else.
That first time she’d chosen to stay away from Copper Creek had given her a small taste of the freedom she hadn’t known existed. It wasn’t exactly what she’d thought she wanted, but it was safer.
When her grandmother got up to get ready for bed, Wynter returned to her room.
Without realizing her motives, she went to her closet and pulled out a memory box.
Her hands shook as she removed the lid and started going through the contents.
Pictures. Drawings. Little tokens and gifts.
She’d been collecting things since she was a little girl.
But the vast majority of the contents revolved around her time in Copper Creek.
Wynter pulled out a picture of Marcus. It was one she’d taken of him when he’d been unable to play football.
His foot was in a boot, and he was seated on his couch watching a movie.
He’d glanced over at her right as she’d taken the picture, and the smile on his face was the most genuine one she could have captured.
Her fingers traced his face, and she exhaled a sad breath.
She’d been a bad friend. No one had to confirm the truth for her.
When she left, she’d hurt him just as much as she’d hurt herself.
Lord, I wish the world was different. I wish I could be what Marcus needs me to be.
I could use a little help dealing with him when he comes over to help Grams. Thank you Lord.
Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she glanced up to find her grandmother giving her a knowing look. Then Grams continued down the hallway to her room.
Wynter tossed the picture back into the box and closed the lid.
Three months.
She could survive three months, especially since Marcus clearly didn’t like her anymore. As long as they kept their distance, she’d be safe.