Page 26 of Stuck with the Hero Next Door

Everwood had a way of holding on to people.

And if Cassie Grant wasn’t careful, it might just hold on to her.

Chapter 7

Taking a Chance

Cassie

On Monday morning, Jordan told me the part for my truck had to come from Pennsylvania, eight states away. And UPS apparently wasn’t in any rush to deliver to a tiny mountain town like Everwood. They took their time, like everything else around here.

Charming, if you had time to wait for life to unfold. And apparently, I did⁠—

If my heart beat any louder, the squirrels outside would file a noise complaint. But I was finally leaping without looking. Well, without looking too far…

I stared at the sign taped to the office door of Everwood High— “Visitors please check in at front desk”—and briefly considered pretending I was lost. Or sleepwalking. Or here to donate decorative pencils. Anything but what I was actually doing.

Interviewing.

For a real job.

In Everwood. Not Miller’s Pass.

Kathy’s voice echoed in my head from earlier that morning at the diner. Levi really should have warned me that the yarn club planned on meeting at the diner for their usual morning gossip. I was completely unprepared when Kathy and a few of the girls looked at me as if they were conspiring to kidnap me and force me into their yarn cult. “I know it’s a little odd, me approaching you like this, but I was wondering if you’d humor an old lady and meet with me at 10 this morning. Our ninth-grade Biology teacher, Brandy, left us, and I’m up a creek without a paddle right now. Will ya come?” When she mentioned the school, I knew. I could almost hear her inner voice.

“You’d be perfect for it. Apply this morning. I’ll be in my office at ten.”

She said it so casually, as if applying for a life-altering teaching position were the same as ordering the soup of the day.

But I’d done it. I’d sent in my application online and printed out my resume, small as it may be, with shaking hands and nervous energy I usually reserved for blind dates and DMV tests. Then—because the universe likes a good dramatic flourish—I got an automated email inviting me to a “casual interview.” Casual. As if any meeting involving my future could be paired with flip-flops and small talk.

The front office smelled faintly of copier toner and lemons to help diffuse the intimidation factor; it worked. A friendly woman named Cheryl, who had clearly mastered the art of the librarian voice, ushered me into a surprisingly sunny room lined with inspirational posters and plants that were somehow both underwatered and over-loved.

Kathy sat behind the desk like she’d been waiting for this moment all weekend.

“Cassie!” she said, her smile bright. “You came.”

“I’m still not entirely sure how,” I said, clutching my tote bag like it contained a parachute. “My legs just sort of...walked me here.”

“Well, good thing they did. Let’s chat.”

We did. And it was—oddly—wonderful.

She asked thoughtful questions, nodded at my rambling answers, and sipped tea from a mug shaped like a llama. I talked about my student teaching experience, about my mom’s legacy, about my passion for science, and—somehow—ended up describing how I once led a frog dissection lesson entirely in rhyme.

Kathy laughed so hard she had to dab her eyes.

“You’re a little unconventional,” she said at the end, “but I mean that in the best possible way. Everwood could use someone like you. Someone who sees beyond test scores and lesson plans.”

I blinked. “You mean...you think I’d fit in here?”

“Cassie,” she said, gentle now, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you already do.”

I walked out into the parking lot stunned, the sunlight too bright, the gravel crunch too loud under my feet. I’d come for a conversation and walked away with a door wide open.

Not the plan.

But suddenly, it felt like maybe...the right one.