Chapter 13
No one followed and for that, Jennalee was grateful. Not Gerald, who knew the Spring and would therefore know what had happened. Not Jane, whose mother-bear instincts often rose unchecked at times such as these. Not even Harley, who had shared the devastating experience. The bluff remained an island and Jennalee settled upon it like a shipwreck survivor.
Lying on her side, she curled against the base of the oak and tried to cover herself, the sexy knee-high split in her skirt suddenly annoying. She pulled at as if there might be enough fabric for cover but, of course, there wasn’t. Skin was everywhere.
A squirrel chattered high above her, intruding when she knew he was complaining about her encroachment. She looked up to find his tail flicking, little hands pleading, and she
