Page 41

“What walk?”

“The walk of someone who’s not done yet,” she said. “You just forgot for a minute.”

My throat tightened unexpectedly.

She stood, gathering the muffin wrappers. “I’ll let you get dressed. Everyone should try it at least once by one in the afternoon.”

I groaned, and she winked.

“Take it slow, okay? No heavy lifting, no running, no sudden movements or life-altering decisions.”

I glanced down at my teacup, warmth sliding through me in a way I didn’t expect. It was ridiculous how touched I felt that this woman, this absolute stranger, cared enough to fuss over me.

When was the last time anyone had fussed over me?

“I’ll do my best,” I murmured, trying my best to make my voice sound normal.

And then she was gone, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

I stared at the door for a moment before my gaze drifted to the laminated schedule.

“Okay,” I told the room. “New plan. Get a temporary job, blend into the wallpaper, and survive four weeks without causing or starring in a single new incident.”

The part of my brain that had replayed Sterling’s hand on the back of my chair last night snorted. I ignored it and went to get dressed.

Blackwood wasn’t part of the plan, and I clung to that. I’d get through the month and make the best of it. And then I would leave this place behind without any scars to remind me I ever set foot here.

CHAPTER 10

SIENNA

When I stepped out onto the street, Blackwood was buzzing. The afternoon sun threw a sheet of hard gold down Main, like it was trying to disinfect the weird out of this town.

By the looks of it, the weird was refusing to budge.

I’d gone with jeans and a soft black T-shirt, topped with the only jacket I’d brought with me. It still smelled faintly like the detergent I used back in Boston, with him. The scent hit me wrong, a little off-kilter, like a memory brushing against my skin without permission. I made a mental note to find that laundry room that Hattie had told me about and wash it when I got back…maybe three times.

I’d swiped on concealer and mascara, but there was only so much I could do about the bruise on my temple. So I parted my hair on the other side and decided I looked decent enough for job interviews, but not good enough to draw attention.

I was wrong.

As soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk, I felt them.

Eyes.

Not in a menacing way. Not like the shadow-lurking, wrong-breath-on-the-glass kind of way. Just…small-town nosy.

A pair of older women in lawn chairs outside the mayor’s office-slash-deli watched me over their Styrofoam cups of coffee, murmuring behind their hands. A kid on a bike pedaled past, staring openly, nearly crashing into a mailbox. A man in overalls paused loading sacks of feed into his truck, his eyes narrowing like he was lining me up with something he’d heard.

“That’s her,” someone murmured behind me. “The one who hit Hank.”

“Poor thing,” another voice replied. “Hank could flatten a tractor. I’m impressed she’s breathing.”

“At least she didn’t hit the Welcome to Blackwood sign,” the first voice said. “We just finished repainting the damn thing.”

I kept walking.

My cheeks heated, but my spine lengthened. What had happened with my marriage had trained me well for public humiliation. Blackwood was going to have to do better than gossip if it wanted to break me. If David hadn’t done it, then nothing could.