Page 26 of Freeing Lark

“Yes. I’ll come.”

“You will?”

“Yes.”

A shaky breath escaped Wren. “Thank you.”

“But I’m not pretending I approve of everything.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m not going to make some big public declaration.”

“I don’t care.”

“And I’m not staying longer than I have to.”

“I don’t care.”

Lark couldn’t help smiling. “You’re still bossy.”

“You taught me.” That made Lark laugh. For just a second, she could almost see the little girl with the pigtails again.

“Okay,” Lark said softly. “I’ll come.”

Wren’s relief was audible. “Thank you, Lark.”

Her mother suddenly reclaimed the phone. “Good. That’s settled.” The warmth vanished instantly.

Lark rolled her eyes. “Apparently.”

“Your father will arrange your flight.”

“Of course he will.”

“And don’t worry about what you’ll wear.” Lark frowned. “I’ll have an appropriate gown waiting for you when you get home.”

Lark’s stomach sank. Of course she would. Because apparently agreeing to attend the gala meant surrendering control over everything else.

“Mother—"

“I’ll see you soon.” The call ended. Lark stared at her phone. Then she dropped it onto the worktable and groaned.

She’d agreed. She was going to Washington. Back into the world she’d escaped. Back into the Whitmore family’s orbit. Back into Bradley’s. She rubbed her temples. One night. She could survive one night. Besides, what could possibly go wrong?

The thought had barely crossed her mind before she remembered the man from Bell Creek. Hoot. And all the calamities that had struck since they’d met. The universe had a strange sense of humor. And Lark should’ve learned by now never to tempt it by asking what could possibly go wrong.

CHAPTER 8

A week had passed since the coffee incident. Hoot had seen Lark five times. That was five times too many, considering he’d made a conscious decision to keep his distance.

The problem was, Bell Creek wasn’t exactly a big town. Eventually, people crossed paths. Unfortunately, when Hoot and Lark crossed paths, something invariably went wrong.

The first time, he’d been walking out of the hardware store carrying a box of replacement parts for his truck when Lark came around the corner of the building. She’d been carrying three bags, a coffee, and what looked like a bundle of copper wire. They’d both stopped.

She’d offered him a smile, and he’d braced himself. “Hi.”

“Hello.”