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Since there weren't a lot of eating establishments in Eden besides a rowdy saloon and the diner I worked at, Zander took me to the next town over. It was the same town Ted had taken me to for our date, but I was beyond glad when Zander drove past the fancy restaurant where I’d felt completely out of place and instead pulled into a small family-style restaurant that I'd heard had great food and service. I didn't miss the eyes that followed us as we were shown to our table. I recognized several people, and quickly tore my eyes from theirs. If Zander noticed the looks we were getting, he didn't show it.
Once we were seated, I felt jittery and tense, though I wasn't really sure why. I hadn't felt that way with Ted on our dates… I'd mostly just been bored and wishing I was home. But being here with Zander felt so much more real and important—it almost felt like some kind of test. On the one hand, I didn't want to fail it, but on the other, I couldn't stop thinking about how Zander and I seemed to be the focus of many conversations in the small dining room.
It wasn't until I felt Zander's foot brush mine beneath the table and settle next to it that I reminded myself that I wasn't doing anything wrong. Just because Zander didn’t look like the traditional Eden resident didn't mean I wasn't allowed to be seen with him. I was here to enjoy his company, not feed into Eden’s rampant gossip mill.
Once we'd given the waitress our orders, Zander leaned on the table so there was less distance between us. "So how many people do you know here?" he asked gently.
"A few," I said.
"Do you want to stay?"
Somehow that question changed everything for me. The idea that this man who'd been nothing but kind to me was willing to change our plans for the evening on my behalf just so I wouldn't be uncomfortable was like a light being shone on the past thirty-something years of my life. How many times had I made decisions based on what others wanted or expected of me?
Too many.
So what if Zander didn't look the part of the proper date with his tattoos and beard and bad-boy appearance? Ted had supposedly been the perfect date with his money and his fancy pickup truck, but how many of the residents of Eden would be okay with what he’d done to me? How many would still say Ted was the better choice if they could see the mark on my cheek and know how it had gotten there? How many would condemn Zander after they found out that he'd been the reason I hadn't suffered a worse fate at the hands of Ted? And how many would care that I'd been happier with Zander in the past thirty-six hours than I’d been in the past twenty years?
"They can go to hell," I responded softly.
Zander smiled and picked up his water glass. "Amen," he said as he held his glass out. I clinked mine against it and took a sip. "How did you end up in Eden?" I asked.
Zander put his glass down and folded his hands together. "Not by chance, believe it or not."
"You chose to come to Eden?" Eden was barely a blip on the map, and while we occasionally got tourists who’d left the interstate to explore rural Wyoming, it wasn't often that people intentionally came to our town.
Unless they had some kind of business with the cattle ranchers.
"Yes and no," he responded.
I tipped my head at him because the lack of explanation just wasn't going to cut it. He smiled and said, "I'm taking some time away from work and just doing some traveling. Kind of a letting-the-road-take-me-wherever-it-leads kind of thing. But when I saw the sign for Eden on the interstate, my car just kind of steered itself here, I guess."
"How come?"
"I actually did some work in Wyoming about ten years ago."
"What kind of work? Did you fix some cars?" I asked as I remembered what he’d told me about helping Pete out. He’d said he worked on custom cars.
Zander shook his head. "No, that's more of a hobby. My background is in counseling. I work with kids who have a history of being abused. I was in Wyoming ten years ago to consult on a case. The kid was from this area."
His admission surprised me. He looked nothing like I would've imagined a counselor to look like. I immediately felt ashamed for doing exactly the same thing the people in this very restaurant had done when they'd seen us.
Judging Zander based on his looks.
"Anyway, the kid had gotten into a scrape with the law and his attorney asked for me to interview him. He had all the signs of being physically and emotionally abused, but he wouldn't admit to it in open court. He ended up going to prison."
