Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I checked her temperature, pleased to see it was almost normal again. When I had first left my husband, Abby had often woken up scared, her fever spiking. The doctor put it down to anxiety, and it had stopped not long after we were on our own. I should have expected it tonight. I shook my head, knowing I shouldn’t have left her.
Lesson learned.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to take you and show you the town we’re going to live in,” I said quietly.
“Is it pretty?”
“It is,” I assured her, brushing her hair back from her head. She loved a head rub. “Lots of trees and little houses. I saw a park and a playground. There’s even a local swimming pool.”
“Are we gonna live in an apartment?”
“No, a house. I put in an application.”
“What’s that?” she asked, her voice low as she began to drift.
“Like a questionnaire. They want to know about us so they can let us live there.”
“Good thing we’re nice,” she mumbled.
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Good thing.”
She fell asleep, her breathing deep and even. I watched her for a while, my thoughts racing.
For some reason, I couldn’t get the jerk out of my head. How kind he’d been at first. His concern for my well-being. His low, rich voice. The way he made me feel safe by simply walking beside me.
I had felt something spark between us. I was certain of it. The warmth of his touch had held me captive.
Then I recalled his reaction to hearing I had a daughter.
I sighed. Single mothers weren’t for everyone.
Even knights in shining armor who seemed wonderful.
I had learned my lesson that not everything was the way it looked.
It wasn’t a lesson I was planning on repeating.
JOHN
The next morning, I woke up angry. I had been furious since I’d stormed away from the pretty Quinn at the fair. The pretty, married Quinn with a child. Hearing the deep male voice on the other end of the phone had hit me, my past playing out in a warped sort of replay. I had to leave before I did something I regretted. Although, the truth was, I already had. I should have walked away after helping her. Instead, I’d acted like an idiot, walking the fair with her, winning her a teddy bear like a lovestruck teenager.
I sighed as I poured a cup of coffee. At least I wouldn’t be seeing her again. She was only visiting, and aside from a quick trip to the bank later, I had no plans on being anywhere I would run into her. I hoped her visit was a short one.
Draining my coffee, I set the cup in the sink and headed out to the fields. Some hard work and sweat would help clear my head.
I needed that.
Hours later, I stepped from the shower, running a towel over my torso and roughly drying my hair. I dressed in jeans and a shirt, rolling up the sleeves as I headed downstairs. My phone was ringing, and I answered my sister’s call.
“Hey, Laura.”
“Hi. Bob needs a favor.”
“Sure.”
“The delivery truck broke down in Mitchell. There’s an order on it he really needs today. The store is still short-staffed, and I have three meetings—”
I interrupted her. “Not an issue. I’m headed to the bank, then I’ll head to Mitchell and pick it up.”
She sighed in relief. “I owe you.”
“I’d accept dinner.”
She laughed. “I should have known.”
I chuckled. “Tonight is spaghetti night. I love your spaghetti.” I paused. “And I want to give Cody his bike. There’s a meetup in the park tomorrow, and I know he’d love to go.”
“His birthday is soon,” she admonished me. “But you’re right, he’d love it, so go ahead. Not that I could stop you,” she added.
“Nope.”
“See you later.”
The sun was high, shining in the cab of the truck as I drove back to Richton, the delivery Bob required in the back cab. I planned on dropping it off, loading up the bike, heading to Laura’s place and surprising Cody. I would wait until his parents were both home to see his reaction, but I was excited to give him the bike. He was a good kid, and he deserved it.
Ahead, I saw an SUV pulled over on the shoulder, the hatch open. As I drove past, I saw the driver struggling to work on the flat. Unable to leave anyone, especially a woman, in distress on the side of the road, I pulled over, backing up. I swung myself out of the truck, heading to the vehicle.
“Hey,” I called out. “Need a hand?”
She stood, a curtain of dark hair obscuring her face for a moment. Faded denim overalls hung loose on her, a plaid shirt underneath and sneakers on her feet making her look somehow smaller than I expected. Then she brushed her hair back, and our eyes locked. Familiar, striking seafoam met my blue, and instantly, the air between us grew taut with anger.