Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“Well, if it isn’t little Blair Wilder,” Bessy, the owner of the store chimes with a beaming smile as she scans the groceries. “I haven’t seen you in years. How have you been, darlin’? It’s a shame to hear about your poor nana. I could hardly believe it.”
Did I mention she’s a chatterbox?
“It came as a shock to me too,” I say, offering her a small smile, not prepared to be bombarded by my own feelings and rampant emotions today.
Bessy mimics my smile and pauses scanning for just a moment to reach out and lay her hand over mine. “You know the whole town is here if you need anything. We all loved Olivia, and we know what a big job you’d be taking on trying to sort through her estate,” she tells me. “We missed you at her funeral.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I wish more than anything that I could have made it back. I feel as though I’ve let her down,” I say, a pang of guilt spreading through my chest. “As for her estate, it seems to be a bigger job than I realized. Nana and Pop sure collected a lot of things over the years. I need to go through everything and figure out what’s meant for safekeeping, what’s for donating, and what needs to be thrown away.”
“You’ve definitely got your work cut out for you. I remember your grandparents being in that house when I was just a little girl.” Bessy starts scanning my groceries again and I find myself wishing she’d go a little faster. “So, this means you’re staying for Christmas?”
“Looks that way.”
Bessy’s whole face lights up, and I see the scheming before a word has even come out of her mouth. “Oh, that’s marvelous news,” she says as the rhythmic beep of the scanned products sounds through the store. “We have our annual Christmas fair coming up, and I need a few young ladies for the Catch A Cowboy event. Wait. You’re single, aren’t you? You didn’t bring a special someone along for the trip?”
Ahhh shit.
Bessy has been in charge of the Christmas fair for as long as I can remember. It’s always been a great event with all profits from ticket sales going directly to the soup kitchen to allow them to put on a delicious Christmas lunch for the families in need. The Catch A Cowboy event has always been a crowd favorite where the town’s most eligible bachelor is placed in the center of a ring with a bunch of thirsty women hovering around, and when the music starts, they run. First to catch the cowboy gets to go out on a date with said cowboy, and while it sounds fun and all, having a date with a random guy is not why I’m here. But on the other hand, it’s not like I need to put much effort into being the one doing the catching. Bessy needs volunteers to make the event work, and I need a little fun in my life. I suppose I can run around a ring for a little while and let someone else catch Blushing’s most eligible bachelor.
“No, there’s no special someone,” I admit.
“Oh, wonderful.” Bessy claps her hands together in glee. “I’ll put your name down for the event.”
“Sounds good.” I force a smile across my face, but the truth is, while it sounds as though it could be fun, I actually feel a little nervous. I’ve never played before. I've always been a spectator because when I lived here in my older teens and early twenties, I was never single.
What could possibly go wrong?
6
NICK
It’s official. I’m not just a concerned citizen doing something nice for a returning neighbor, I’ve crept well into stalker territory now. I was on my way to Hardin’s Hardware to check on John, and the second I saw her pop’s old truck making its way through the town center, I couldn’t keep myself from pulling to a stop across from the dog park and watching as she went about her morning.
Like I said—I’m a fucking stalker now.
I suppose it’s always a good thing to be adding new skills and attributes to your resume, right? So I can only assume this is healthy for me. Ahh shit. Look at me justifying stalking my ex around town. I’ve officially hit rock bottom.
One thing’s for sure though, I’m fucking pissed.
First rule about driving in the snow is to put chains on the fucking tires, you know, if you value your life, of course. But did she bother to do that? Hell no. I should have just left the icicles hanging from her roof last night. At least if one of those dropped and took her out, it’d be a quick, easy death, but by hitting a patch of black ice and skidding off the road, she could end up trapped in a ditch for days without anyone noticing.