Witness In The Woods. Michele Hauf

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      SKYLAR PAID FOR the two bags of groceries—pleased the small market offered sundries such as the red yarn—then grabbed the bags and headed out to her truck parked in the grassy lot in front of the store. The old Ford she drove had once been red, but the paint job had faded over the years to a rust-mottled pink. Cole had been good with the small fixes it had needed. That was about the only thing she missed about not having him around.

      She set the paper bags on the passenger seat and closed the door to walk around to the back, where she paused and leaned against the tailgate to watch passing cars. She was no longer in an irritated mood caused by thoughts of Joseph Cash and his soulful green eyes. Because, mercy, that man had cornered the market on sexy.

      Why had she never hooked up with him?

      They almost had that one night. And then…

      And then. The big rejection from him. That still hurt a little. Even though she could understand where he’d been coming from—she being drunker than a skunk. And he had been toasted, as well. That he’d had the mental fortitude to refuse her suggestion of sex was either because he was a strange beast or because he hadn’t been as interested in her as she’d thought.

      Either way, at the time, his refusal had humiliated her. After that, she’d thought pushing him away was the smart thing to do. Really, the idea of being happy and in love with any man had only driven her mad after losing her father. He’d been torn apart when her mom had left. Skylar had been twelve that morning she’d found a note from her mother placed directly on top of her bowl of shredded wheat. She’d missed the school bus after reading the two sentences: I can’t do this anymore. I love you, Skylar. Mom.

      And she hadn’t seen or heard from her since. No check-in calls. No Christmas cards. Not even a “hey, I’m still alive, don’t worry about me” message on the phone. Her teenage years had been depressing. Skylar had once been confident and self-assured in her schoolwork, but middle school had been merely going through the motions. By her sophomore year, Skylar had decided to put her anger into her schoolwork and had graduated a year early. As if that would show her mom.

      It hadn’t, but it was how she’d coped with the situation. If her mom didn’t need her, then she certainly didn’t need her, either.

      But her father had not been the same after his wife left. He’d refused to even date after that, telling Skylar Dorothy had been his soul mate. On his deathbed he had smiled and whispered Dorothy’s name before drifting away.

      The woman had not deserved such reverence. Had she ever appreciated her husband’s love for her? That was a question Skylar wanted an answer to, but she knew it would never come. So she’d moved forward, and was doing as well as she could now that her dad was gone. Life had felt empty for a while after his death, but her focus on the animals she rehabilitated had worked like a jolt of life infused into her system. She didn’t need anyone to make her happy. Nor did she want to risk falling for someone and having them walk out of her life.