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So rather than going to football games or homecoming dances, I stayed home. Partially due to my crippling shyness and fear of socializing with people my own age, but also because Gran needed me.
It was easy enough to ignore my shortcomings while I tended to her, but now Gran’s gone. Five years ago this past July. And instead of exploring the world like the average woman in her twenties, I settled into Gran’s life, entrenched myself in the cozy comfort of woolen sweaters and daytime television.
I got an online bachelor’s degree and found a remote job that allowed me to easily sequester myself to Gran’s old recliner, watching our favorite shows while working on my laptop. It’s a simple but lonely life, especially when the only one shouting answers to the final clue on Jeopardy! is me.
I want a husband, kids, friends—a family.
The problem with those things is they require me to actually leave the house. First to find a man who could overlook my shy awkwardness enough to fall in love and want children with me, and second to figure out how adults even make friends at the age of twenty-nine.
Sure, chatting with geriatrics at the senior center had been easy enough when Gran was a buffer. But now I’m on my own.
“You can do this,” I mutter aloud, trying to hype myself up enough to enter the dance across the street and mingle with the townspeople of Guardian Valley.
Because fate isn’t going to drop my dream husband into my lap.
Trust me, I’ve tried to believe it could happen with every attractive delivery man or guy I ran into at the grocery store, but life doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t favor quiet women too afraid to initiate conversations or look men in the eyes.
But the inheritance letter that arrived in the mail a week ago heralded a major change for my future. It was the kick I needed to conquer my shyness and grab hold of the kind of life I’ve always dreamed of.
Or so I hoped.
It already had me moving across the country, leaving behind the only home I’ve known for the last two decades.
Taking a deep breath, I cross the street and head for the double doors open to everyone inclined to join the fun inside. I keep my gaze forward, considering my options for what to do once I’m actually in the building.
Should I grab a drink and linger at the edges of the crowd in the hopes someone will take pity on me?
No, that sounds pathetic.
I can’t expect a better life by repeating the same mistakes—being a wallflower who’s afraid to speak with strangers.
A large figure blocks the glow of light emanating through the doorway. The stranger is silhouetted in black before exiting onto the sidewalk. Worn boots lead to dark jeans, a black button-down shirt, and a cowboy hat.
Whoa.
The man looks like he popped straight from one of the 1950s Westerns Gran loved, and immediately, my imagination goes wild with thoughts of a lone lawman taming this rugged land with only his bare hands and wit.
God, you really are desperate for a man.
However, fate reminds me why dangerously attractive men like him are not for the likes of me, because the toe of my shoe snags on the curb of the sidewalk, casting me forward with a harsh momentum that almost seems vindictive.
I struggle to remove my hands from my pockets in time to catch myself, and the jarring impact radiates from my palms to my locked elbows before I crumple to the ground with a yelp. My knees burn where they scraped across the concrete, and I curse my decision to wear a dress, even though it’s calf-length with a layer of tights underneath the skirt. It’s obvious they never stood a chance against the rough pavement.
Tears of pain threaten to fall as my lungs inflate with shaky breaths. My first attempt to be brave, and this is what happens?
In front of a gorgeous cowboy to boot?
Maybe I’m not meant for a different life after all. Because what good does an inheritance do if I’m still the same old awkward Adeline?
CHAPTER THREE
HEATH
“That’s my girl.”
I'M A DECENT-LOOKING guy.
Had my fair share of women over the past forty-two years, so I know I'm not the ugliest mug around. But I've never had a woman literally throw herself at me.
