Thanksgiving Groom by Brenda Minton Page A

anything when this moment wrapped around her, stealing her breath, her thoughts and maybe even her heart.
    â€œI should help do something.” She backed away from him, immediately missing his warmth. Her hands wanted to be back in his. She wanted his arms around her again.
    But moving away from him was the right thing to do. Even if it left her cold from the inside out.
    She turned to Wilma, who was warming something in a pan and pretending she hadn’t witnessed a moment of weakness between the two of them. Penelope justified it in her mind, telling herself that it was natural in this environment, in their circumstances. Of course they would be drawn to one another in this situation.
    â€œWhat can I do to help?” She glanced back at Tucker and then she faced Wilma with a smile. She heard Tucker walk away and she breathed easier.
    â€œGet our four mugs from the pack that Clark carried.Tucker said no coffeepot. He didn’t say a thing about the soup pan I brought. Or the bag of instant coffee.”
    â€œOh, Wilma, you’re a blessing.”
    â€œI think so.” Wilma smiled up at her. “Rehydrated soup and instant coffee. Not exactly a gourmet meal….”
    â€œIt’ll be the best meal I’ve ever had.” Penelope rushed the words.
    Â 
    She watched Tucker carry sleeping bags into the tent. Three of them. He kept his outside. She started to ask why, but then she thought better of it. Two more days and they’d part ways. She wouldn’t have to think about Tucker. He wouldn’t have to think about her.
    That would be better, she thought.
    â€œHold those mugs out, I’ll pour our coffee.” Wilma brought her back to planet Earth.
    The aroma of the coffee, even instant, was wonderful. Penelope held the cups and Wilma poured from the saucepan. Clark appeared and he took the first cup with a smile.
    â€œMy wife is always up to a challenge.” He winked at Wilma.
    â€œStop that, you crazy man.” Wilma blushed in the soft light of the fire. Her eyes lit up, though. Penelope wondered what that was like, to have someone who loved her that much. She wondered if she would ever know.
    She thought about her mother, the way her mom’s eyes looked when Penelope’s dad entered a room. She shuddered to think about that being her life. She wanted someone like Clark, someone who held her tight and went through the hard things at her side.
    Tucker took the cup of coffee she held out to him and she couldn’t stop herself from thinking back to being held tight just five minutes earlier. Their gazes met and she thought he was thinking the same thing.
    Tucker wasn’t too upset with Wilma for packing the instant coffee. By midnight, with everyone sleeping in the tent and him parked next to the fire, he’d be real glad for a cup of coffee. He’d never been fond of the instant stuff, but when the temperature dropped to well below freezing, instant coffee wasn’t so bad.
    Mud heated up in water wouldn’t have been bad.
    He pulled his blanket around his shoulders and hunched down, with his back against an upturned log. One of his last nights of solitude. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stay in Treasure Creek, once he got back to town. Maybe a few days.
    He had to go back to Seattle. The thought settled in the pit of his stomach and stayed there. For the first time in years, he wasn’t excited about his job. He had always loved the challenge, the arguments, learning how people ticked, and what would make them say what he needed them to say.
    Each time he closed his eyes he thought about an unknown girl, a family grieving. His grief.
    The zipper on the tent ripped the stillness of the night. He turned, watching the dark figure hurry across the open area to the fire. She had wrapped her sleeping bag around herself and pulled on the boots he’d made her wear. She hadn’t liked leaving the other boots behind.
    He smiled, but quickly