Her Small-Town Romance

A swish of wind overhead set new green leaves in motion, and sunshine spilled through the branches to the ground. Michigan’s Lake Endwell in mid-April brought hungry squirrels dashing across the soggy grass. Robins flitted here and there. The park throbbed with pent-up energy after a long winter. Bryan could relate.

His watch said 7:55. Had the Parks and Recreation Department listed the wrong date on the website or something?

One tiny woman with long brown hair clutched her hands together as she weaved across the pavement. She appeared to be praying or chanting or...something. Odd. Maybe she was taking one of those prayer walks or whatever it was Aunt Sally mentioned some of the church ladies started doing recently.

He stopped pacing. What if no one showed up?

People would come. They had to.

He couldn’t spend the rest of his life surrounded by his happily married siblings, not when he would never have a wife and family of his own. He loved Lake Endwell, but his heart couldn’t take it anymore. He needed the change Ontario, Canada, offered.

Blue Mountain Retreat was interviewing outdoor instructors in June. That left less than two months to strengthen his qualifications. The director wanted an experienced leader comfortable teaching an array of professional personalities from charismatic to timid to eccentric. The ideal candidate would have expert knowledge of North American forests and a diplomatic, outgoing personality.

Bryan had never been described as outgoing. His ex-wife had put it in less flattering terms. Boring. Lame. Hey, he might not be the most exciting person, but no local would refute his outdoor knowledge.

Now it was 7:58. Where was everyone?

He studied the parking lot again. A family unpacked bikes from a silver minivan. An elderly man hobbled in the direction of the bird feeders located near the pond. And the strange woman? Marched his way, albeit in a zigzag pattern.

As she neared, he pegged her at about five feet tall and in her late twenties, but he’d never been good at guessing ages. She had rosy lips and big green eyes that didn’t seem to register her whereabouts. Streaks of cinnamon shot through her hair.

She was pretty.

Very pretty.

His pulse hammered like the bill of the downy woodpecker against the poplar to his left. She could not be one of his students. He’d mentally prepared for older folks, college kids.

He hadn’t prepared for pretty.

Green Eyes edged into the pavilion, her chest heaving as if she’d run six miles. Her face was white, and she blinked rapidly. “Is this the survival class?”

He widened his stance, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, this is Outdoor Survival 101.”

“Good. I barely survived the parking lot, so I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Great. His only student. Cute and probably crazy.

Real funny, God. I ask You to get me out of my five-year rut, and You give me this?

“I know what I’m doing.” Bryan rubbed the two-day stubble on his chin. “What was so bad about the parking lot?”

She grimaced, a visible shiver rippling over her. “Everything.”

He pressed his lips together. He did not encourage overly dramatic behavior. His sister Libby’s antics growing up had taught him that.

“Bryan Sheffield.” He thrust his hand out. Her icy fingers felt fragile in his.

“Jade Emerson.”

The name fit her on account of the eyes. “Since you’re the lone student so far, let’s wait a few minutes before heading to the trail.”

Jade practically collapsed on the bench of a picnic table. Her olive jacket covered dark jeans, and she wore rubber rain boots—burgundy with black polka dots. She reminded him of a princess, someone he’d read about in picture books as a kid, but her defeated posture didn’t match the images in his mind.

He hadn’t seen her before, and in a small town like this it meant she wasn’t from around here. One of his numerous relatives would have alerted him. Aunt Sally and the ladies from work were forever trying to set him up with any single woman in the county. He always politely declined, unwilling to reveal it wouldn’t matter who they set him up with—he wasn’t interested in dating or marriage. Once was enough.

“Are you from out of town?” he asked.

“Yes. Just moved yesterday.”

He didn’t know what it was like to be new in town. He’d lived here his entire life, but hopefully that would change this summer. “How did you find out about the class?”

She gave her head a little shake. “The website. I saw the class advertised a few weeks ago.”

At least he knew the Parks and Recreation Department listed the correct information. “So where are you from?”

“Las Vegas.” A bit of color returned to her cheeks.

“Sin City, huh?” Why would a pretty girl from Las Vegas want to move here?

“I prefer to think of it by its lesser known nickname, the Capital of Second Chances.”

Second chances? A second chance at Blue Mountain sounded good. He hitched his chin. “So what brings you to Lake Endwell?”

“I’m opening a store.” The words pulled from her as wispy and thin as threads of cotton candy.

“Oh, yeah? What kind?”

“A gift shop.” She fanned herself, but the temperature couldn’t be more than fifty-five degrees. “Custom-designed T-shirts and gifts. I’m still deciding on the inventory.”

A candy store, novelty shop and higher-end women’s clothing boutique satisfied the summer tourists. The town might not be able to support her store year-round, but Bryan kept his thoughts to himself. If Jade wanted to open a T-shirt shop, that was her business.

And his business? Wasn’t looking promising, not with one student.

He checked the parking lot again. “It looks like you’re the only one who showed up. Do you still want to take the class?”

“No.”

No? His chest had a slow leak or something. He should be relieved. But her no stirred up bits and pieces he’d been suppressing all week, like the sinking feeling he got when his younger brother, Sam, sneered, “You, teaching? You realize you’ll have to leave the house and be friendly, right?” As if Bryan had no social skills. He knew how to be friendly. But Sam’s words had kicked up doubts. Would his personality kill his chances with the director of the retreat?

Jade stood on wobbly legs, and her fingertips darted to the table for support. “I don’t want to take the class, but I will. I have to.”

He pulled his shoulders back. A part of him would prefer no students to this one. Too cute. Too out there. Too everything. “I can cancel today’s session.”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “Don’t do that.”

“Why not?” He suppressed a sigh. Did she want to be here or not? Maybe this would qualify him for the eccentric personalities the retreat director mentioned.

She shook her head so rapidly her hair waved behind her. Her face paled again. She wasn’t going to faint, was she? Bryan stepped forward, but she remained standing.