Callan shivered from both the cold and her memories, dropping the curtain back into place. Ultimately, she wasn’t sure old Mrs. Biggs was as smart as Clay thought.
After the fair, Callan and Clay began dating seriously. Engaged a couple of months later, they wed just before Christmas. It was all exciting, wonderful, and romantic.
Their first few years together had been so happy and carefree. Everyone talked about them being the perpetual honeymooners.
She had loved Clay so much then. It seemed like she only felt complete when they were together. Gradually, they started to drift apart. It was impossible to pinpoint the day they had become distant and not always polite strangers.
Maudlin, Callan wondered how love could just disappear. Then again, she wasn’t sure it had, at least not completely.
Confused and exhausted, she decided it best to clamp the lid down on those thoughts. She excelled at closing down her emotions to keep things neat and orderly.
On silent feet, Callan returned to the bedroom, pausing at the door to release another beleaguered sigh. Quietly removing her robe, she climbed into bed, careful not to disturb Clay. At least the snoring had stopped.
The cool sheets gave her a chill and she fought down a shiver. Refusing to scoot closer to Clay’s warmth, she turned onto her side, willing sleep to come.
Unable to get warm, she debated putting on a pair of socks or freezing. Callan started to slide out of bed when Clay rolled her direction and threw an arm around her waist, bringing welcome heat and security.
Callan relaxed for a moment, enjoying the weight of his arm around her and the feel of his strong body pressed against hers. His warmth and proximity threatened to open the box of emotions she worked so hard to keep tightly sealed.
Too exhausted to fight her conflicting feelings, she finally drifted into a less than peaceful slumber.
Heart of Clay Page 2
