Page 34 of Stuck with the Hero Next Door

New Routines, New Roads

Cassie

Ididn’t plan on falling in love with a town that sells honey by the jar and advice by the muffin.

But here I was—sitting cross-legged on the bed in my room at the Everwood Inn, doodling in the margins of my notebook, breathing in the lavender-lemon scent Janet swore by.

The window was open just enough to let in a breeze, carrying porch swing creaks, soft laughter from Main Street, and the distant bark of someone’s opinionated golden retriever. It was background music with a pulse. Everwood had its own heartbeat, and I was starting to sync with it.

I closed the notebook—half musings, half messy diagrams of “Possible Futures”—and stood, stretching as sunlight striped the quilt. My reflection in the mirror caught me mid-yawn, hair a little wild, eyes clearer than they had been in a while. There was still uncertainty there; of course, there was. I was in the middle of new beginnings. I looked... like someone starting on a new path.

Downstairs, Janet had already laid out a tray of blueberry muffins and a coffee pot so full it practically sang hallelujah. She greeted me with a nod in the dining room, flour dusting her apron, and something warm in her gaze.

“Morning,” I said, reaching for a mug.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” she said, handing me a napkin. “Good thoughts, I hope?”

“Still sorting, I think,” I replied.

She smiled, like she knew more than she let on. I didn’t have to spill the beans; I already knew how news spread through the Everwood gossip chain. If Levi knew when we went fishing, there was no doubt Janet already knew. She probably knew before we even hit the back road.

Last night, I had to do some major thinking, planning, and replanning. Everything I thought I wanted, everything I thought I’d planned for, had been rearranged and scrambled.

Mom would have called this an adventure, but she was a little more of a free spirit than I was. This was terrifying and scary. But exciting, nonetheless. I’ve always followed “the plan”. But this called for some vital rethinking and re-imagining. Something I wasn’t the best at.

After last night’s dunk in the lake, I had some newfound energy. While lying in the dark waiting for sleep, I’d come to some big decisions. Now, all I had to do was move forward and pray for the best.

Carl and Miller’s Pass were part of the past, and the past has a funny way of clinging to you. Carl was more than an old truck — he was a rusty reminder of every breakdown I’d patched together with stubbornness and duct tape to get me to Miller’s Pass. And Miller’s Pass had been more than a place on the map — it was a dream stitched together out of restlessness and fulfilling my mother’s dream, shiny on the surface but never quite fitting right.

Sometimes, the past plays tricks, weighing you down with what you thought you wanted, whispering that you should go back and try again. But I knew better now. Before I even came downstairs for breakfast, I called Levi. If I wanted a future worth holding onto, I needed help. Everwood had welcomed me so warmly that walking away would feel like looking a gift horse in the mouth.

As odd as it sounded, everything had fallen into place here. The thought of staying in Everwood, teaching, and finding out if what I felt for Levi was one-sided made me giggle. The way Levi wrapped the towel around my shoulders, and the butterflies in my stomach had me swooning heart-first. My decision wasn’t based solely on Levi, but he was a big part of it.

I called Kathy next and told her I’d take the job. Kathy squealed, then cleared her throat and tried for a more professional approach, but the smile in her voice betrayed her. I couldn’t yet decide if it was the fact that the job was filled or that she and Janet had been trying to push Levi and me together since I got here. As if they needed to try hard. Levi had spent almost every day with me unless he was volunteering at the veterans’ center or ranching.

When I called this morning, he was just finishing stacking hay in the barn. But when he was done, he agreed to help me pick out a new truck.

I sat on the steps of the Inn and watched the baker realign the sign in front of the bakery for the third time. As I waited for Levi, I picked at the blueberry muffin Janet had made. A few of the locals waved at me and called me by name. Something I’ve never experienced before. It wasn’t like I was a visitor. They congratulated me on my new position. I wasn’t a guest in this town. I was a neighbor.

Levi picked me up around ten, looking unfairly relaxed for someone who stacked hay and wrestled cows for a living—all before breakfast. He had a little alfalfa on his shoulder and some in his hair, but he looked so good I left it there. A little reminder of how handy and strong he really was.

“You ready to do this?” He looked at me with hesitant optimism as I got in and closed the door beside me.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. I just hope I’m doing the right thing.” My heart beat against my chest like a bass drum, but I was doing it.

I gave him a big grin and wriggled in my seat. “Let’s go! Time’s a-wastin’!”

That earned a huge smile from Levi, and my stomach flipped.

We were headed to the used car lot to see what a minimal budget and enthusiasm could get me. Spoiler alert: not much—but it was a start.

We strolled rows of sun-faded sedans and sturdy trucks with stories etched into their paint. I ran my fingers over door handles, imagining new routines, new roads. Not grand adventures—just grocery runs, weekend hikes, and late-night drives with Levi. Wait, did I just think that? Had Levi become such a part of my life that I was seeing him in my near future? An intriguing thought. One I’d like to explore more after I get my new set of wheels.

When I found a modest blue 4X4 Ford Ranger with working AC and more personality than my last three dates combined, I fell in love with it. My heart did a few little flips, and a kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight in my stomach. It was a big step toward progress. Forward motion.

Levi leaned against the bumper, arms crossed, watching me.

“You’re glowing,” he said.