“You know, dear, I’m not one to meddle..” I could sense the ‘but’ coming before she even opened her mouth.
Oh, here we go.
“But?”
“But small towns have a way of calling to wayward souls.” She paused for emphasis. “Just thought that it might be worth mentioning.”
I peered over the top of Charlie’s head, back at the old woman behind the counter. Her eyes were kind. The surrounding crinkles formed from years of smiles and laughter. She gave me a quick wink, and I nodded in understanding and turned back towards the front door.
I wasn’t so sure the small town vibe and I would get along. I disliked the idea of everyone knowing about my business, or at the very least, attempting to. Gossip wasn’t something I generally dabbled in. I had perfected the art of walking in the shadows and keeping a low profile. I didn’t know if I was ready to stand under a microscope of small town good intentions.
“Thanks for the advice,” I responded, pushing the front door open with the hip Charlie wasn’t perched on.
The stifling summer air hit me with a whoosh and I squinted my eyes against the offending sunlight. I wasn’t used to this type of heat and humidity. It was nearly oppressive. Georgia during the summer was a cruel form of torture, but I guess I should get used to it.
I trekked my way down the quiet street, noticing how quaint and homey the main street felt.
It felt like stepping back in time to a place where your grandma sent you to the corner store with a nickel to buy some bubble gum. It felt peaceful, like I could take a deep breath for once in the last… well, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt free enough to breathe without the overwhelming sense of dread flooding my system.
I noticed the lampposts, each one adorned with a small American flag. Because of the lack of any semblance of abreeze, they hung limp from their sticks. I’m sure if there was a small breeze blowing, they’d be flapping majestically. In between each lamp post sat a waist high planter, each one filled with overflowing greenery and summer blooms. The sidewalks were meticulously maintained, showcasing how much the residents cared about this little town.
It was enthralling to take notice of the sheer beauty in the little things. Had I really let my the oppression of my past life rob me of seeing things like these little details before?
I shook the thoughts from my head. After all, Charlie and I were starting over. We weren’t hostages of our circumstances any longer.
As I walked, I made a mental note to check the coffee shop for a help wanted board, a current available rentals list, or anything else that could help us quickly find some permanent lodging. We weren’t going to be able to afford to stay in the inn for more than a couple of nights. So, I was going to have to work fast.
Stepping into the coffee shop, I felt the immediate side effects of small town living. Every single set of eyes looked up from their drinks, crosswords, or conversations to stare at the non-local who’d just stepped foot in their watering hole. I felt their stares like a brand and glanced down to make sure that I had put pants on before leaving the inn.
Yep, I was wearing pants.
Feeling uncomfortable, I immediately turned to walk back out the door and ran right into a wall. Scratch that, I ran right into the muscled chest of a man - same difference. His rough grasp reached out to grip my elbow and steady me before I tumbled to the ground, baby and all.
I bounced back and kept my eyes down as I attempted to sidestep the person I’d just accosted with my body. Steelingmyself for the harsh words I expected to come, I was thrown off when a familiar voice greeted me instead.
“Stella?” a gruff voice came from beside me just as my hand once again reached for the door handle of the exit. The slight southern drawl was familiar, but I’d only been in this town for approximately twelve hours. I didn’t know anyone here, except for Connie at the inn and…
I raised my eyes to the wall of a man in front of me and was met with the shy smile of my white knight in cowboy boots.
Max.
FOUR
max
“Woah there, girl.”I chuckled playfully as I steadied Stella with a gentle hand on her elbow. She tensed, and I released her almost as quickly as I’d reached to help.
Interesting.
I noted the flinch instantly and again found myself wondering what her story was. Women didn’t generally flinch out of reflex. I concluded that she had probably been hurt before, either physically or emotionally. This woman was a mystery. Lost on the side of the road with a crying baby, needing a place to stay, and now frequenting the local coffee shop that hardly anyone but townies ever set foot in.
“Sorry, I was just on my way out,” she said as she attempted to sidestep me, refusing to meet my gaze.
Stepping in front of her to block her exit, I fortified my position. I was treating her with the same quiet demeanor that you’d use to approach a skittish foal. I didn’t want to spook her, but I needed to make sure she was okay. She looked scared and alone. It sent a protective thrill through my body. Iwasn’t used to caring for people other than myself, but something about this girl had me rattled.
“Don’t be sorry, darlin’.” I said as I took my Stetson off my head, running my fingers through my hair, attempting to fluff up the hat head I knew I was undoubtedly sporting.
Ma always enforced the rule of taking off your hat upon entering a building, sitting at the dinner table, or being around a lady. She instilled in Wade and I that manners made a man and that boys disrespected establishments and women.
