A Temporary Courtship. Jenna Mindel

socks and waders close, she climbed into Darren’s white pickup truck. What had just happened?

      “I can put those in the back,” Darren offered as he clicked on the radio and country music whispered.

      “I’m good.” Bree spied the slim backseat and clutched the socks and waders closer as if they’d protect her from the odd sensations flooding her.

      Darren turned up the volume to an upbeat song that crooned about the mysteries between a man and a woman. Hearing some guy sing about kissing in the morning didn’t help. Not at all. Bree tapped her toe on the floor in time with the beat, hoping to dispel whatever it was that Darren had done to her with merely a smile.

      She’d never met anyone like Darren before. Having grown up downstate, Bree hadn’t been exposed to things like venison, guns or smelt dipping. Was she ready for what lay ahead?

      A shiver raced through her despite the warmth of the truck’s heater. Tonight promised something she craved. Not only a break from her usual routine but also adventurous freedom before she made one of the biggest time commitments of her life.

      She’d wanted a change, and tonight definitely ranked as different. Only, she hoped this inconvenient attraction to Darren would pass. She’d worked with nice-looking musicians without any trouble. Maybe this was merely a temporary curiosity because Darren wasn’t like the urbane men she was used to. He was different. A passing fancy that would eventually vanish. Once her vacation was over.

      * * *

      Darren parked his truck next to his friend’s SUV and got out. The pungently sweet smell of burning wood hung in the air. There were several other vehicles parked in the small clearing off a two-track path. The place was crowded.

      He looked up at the clear sky tinted pink with the memory of this evening’s sunset. A big crescent moon hung just above the tree line. It wouldn’t shed much light later—not quite the blue moonlight he’d promised—but then, he had flashlights.

      “Something wrong?” Bree climbed out of his truck.

      “Our moon is nothing but a weak sliver tonight.”