Page 1 of Wild Hearts

CHAPTER ONE

GRACE THOMPSON

The two-lane highway heading into Suitor’s Crossing is deserted, and I pray civilization isn’t too far away. My phone’s GPS said it would be ten minutes before I reached my friend Elsie's apartment, but that was before my tire blew, leaving me stranded on the side of the road.

Walking is a whole other story.

Glancing up and down the empty road, all I see is a forest of trees—a sight I admired five minutes ago, especially as a Kansas plains native. Now? It looks like the beginning of a horror movie where the heroine gets lost in the woods before being chased by a man with a chainsaw.

Not today, Satan.

I didn’t move across the country for a fresh start only to meet a grisly death. My luck isn’t that bad, right?

A quick Google search shows a mechanic’s shop called Dusty’s located a mile away, and that’s all I need to boost my spirits. “That’s totally doable, right, boy?”

My dog wags his tail in agreement, creating a rhythmic thumping against the backseat. Shadow and I have been cooped up in the car for hours. It’ll be good to stretch our legs, even if I’m not exactly dressed for a short hike.

“Come on! Looks like our adventure starts now.” Shadow jumps out and waits as I grab my purse from the passenger’s side floor and lock the car. “You really are a good dog, you know that?”

Shadow tilts his head as if to say, “I know, Mom.”

Laughing at his sass, we begin our trek down the road. Like travelers of old, we’ll arrive at our new home on foot, something I try to consider a good omen.

Suitor’s Crossing represents a new beginning after a hellish couple of years stuck living with my family. Honestly, I feared ever escaping the hole I found myself in until Avery mentioned a job opening for a local firm, and things fell into place from there.

I packed my meager belongings in the car, then Shadow and I hit the road a day after the two weeks’ notice at my previous job ended. Now, we’re finally here… sort of.

Majestic pines guide our path on the gravel shoulder of the highway, camouflaging any signs of an actual town within its green depths. It’s so different from my childhood on the prairie.

Don’t get me wrong, Kansas has its own appeal with miles of fields as far as the eye can see and gentle rolling hills intermittently interrupting the flat landscape. But this sense of being cocooned by nature comforts my soul in a way the corn and wheat fields never did.

The weather is milder, too. Rather than the thirty-degree chill I left behind, it’s a cool fifty degrees, perfect for showcasing my cute but warm outfit instead of hiding it beneath a puffy winter coat.

Another way I’m trying to branch out of my comfort zone.

In an attempt to dress the way I’ve always wanted to, instead of how people think a curvy girl like me should, high-waisted skinny jeans hug my wide hips and ass while an oversized red and black plaid shirt drapes over a tucked-in tank. Aside from the plaid shirt, everything conforms to my curves, and as someone who never considered tucking her shirts for fear of a muffin top, I’m proud to say I actually feel pretty.

Lumberjack chic.

I should blend right into the mountain town of Suitor’s Crossing. Maybe even catch a mountain man.

One step at a time.

But the thought of finally having the time and mental capacity to fall in love is intoxicating. Life these past few years has drained me of the sort of energy necessary to maintain a relationship, so it’s hard not to feel giddy at the prospect of being in a better mental space—one that could result in a loving relationship.

According to Avery, Suitor’s Crossing is known for bringing couples together, too. There’s an old landmark bridge the town is named after, where couples went “sparkin’” or what we’d consider “dating” these days, and heart sparks are a hallmark of the town.

Love at first sight.

It sounds so romantic and easy.

What I wouldn’t give to meet a man, know he’s the one, and for him to feel the same way about me. We could skip all the messy middle parts of second-guessing if it’s right or not.

“Would you like a dog dad, Shadow?” Aside from my dad, he hasn’t been around many men lately, so all he does is huff like he couldn’t care less about the male species as long as he’s got me.

Sweet boy.

And yes, I realize I may be a little bit of a crazy dog mom assigning meaning to his canine responses. That’s what happens when your only close friend for nearly three years is a clingy German Shepherd.

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