Page 8 of The Pink House

Inspired by the River Walk in San Antonio, the parklike area had been under construction for most of Hannah’s childhood. There had been lots of celebrating when it reached completion at the beginning of her senior year in high school.

Hannah remembered strolling these walkways when she and Brian had returned to GraceTown as young adults. Though they had attended the same high school, it had been a large school, and she’d known him only by sight and reputation.

He’d been the popular athlete everyone adored. She’d been the bookish honor student with a core group of friends and a limited social life.

Hannah liked to think she’d come into her own during college. She and Brian had connected when they’d both been new students at Chapel Hill. They’d been partners in chem lab and had bonded over the fact they were both from GraceTown.

He’d made plenty of friends by then, and so had she. Being on her own had been a heady experience. While she hadn’t gone crazy being out from under her father’s thumb, she’d been able to stay out past eleven without getting grounded.

“What brings that smile to your face?”

Hannah turned, and there was Charlie, looking like every woman’s fantasy in jeans and a chambray shirt. Every woman but her, she qualified.

Still, the surprise, or perhaps it was the intoxicating scent of his cologne, had her answering without thinking. “I was remembering how, when I went off to college, I could finally stay out past eleven.”

Charlie blinked. “Pardon?”

“Eleven was my curfew in high school.” Hannah waved an airy hand. “The only time I got to stay out later was once I graduated from high school.”

“Seriously?” His brown eyes betrayed his disbelief. “My curfew was two.”

Hannah chuckled. “That explains why you had a robust social life, while my best nights were spent with characters in books.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” When a group of teens approached, laughing and jostling one another and showing no evidence of giving ground, Charlie took Hannah’s arm. He tugged her off to the side and kept her close.

The second the group passed, Hannah put distance between her and Charlie. If he noticed, it didn’t show.

“You look nice tonight,” he said in the silence that ensued.

Hannah glanced down at her cobalt-blue dress covered in sunflowers the size of dinner plates. Though a relatively plain cut, except for the crisscross back, the bright colors and flowers always made her smile. “I wasn’t sure what everyone would be wearing.”

As if hearing the question in her voice, he smiled. “You’ll see a little of everything, other than fancy. That’s not how we roll here.”

She thought about reminding him that she’d grown up here, but he knew that, and she had asked. “I didn’t think things had changed.”

As they drew closer to the huge clock and she spotted Mackenna’s bright red hair, Hannah placed a hand on Charlie’s arm. “One quick question. The house in the woods…”

He inclined his head. “What house?”

“The pink one. I ran across it today while hiking. I couldn’t believe I’d never seen it before.”

“Hannah,” Mackenna called out and waved, then wove her way through the crowd toward them.

Charlie rubbed his chin, his gaze thoughtful. “I’ve never seen a pink house in the woods.”

“You had to have seen it.” There was an edge of desperation to her voice that Hannah didn’t understand. “A large older pink home with a cupola and a very imposing frontage. A whole boatload of lily-of-the-valley plants on both sides and in the front.”

“That wouldn’t be something I’d forget.” Shaking his head, Charlie turned to Mackenna, who looked amazing in buttercup yellow. “Hannah was asking me about a pink house in the woods. I haven’t seen it, but do you know anything about it?”

“A pink house.” A slow smile spread over Mackenna’s face as she settled her brown eyes on Hannah. “That sounds familiar. I’m surprised you don’t remember.”

Hannah pulled her brows together. “Remember what?”

“The pink house you had as a kid.” Mackenna’s tone turned teasing. “You can’t have forgotten. It wasn’t evenmypink house, and I remember.”

Hannah and Mackenna had been friends since their baby days. Mackenna’s mother, who ran a daycare out of her home, had watched Hannah in the immediate years after her mother died and then before and after school.

“This house isn’t imaginary.” Hannah kept her tone matter-of-fact and her irritation in check. “It’s real, and it’s in the woods. I saw it with my own eyes.”

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