Page 41 of Forever To Me

Walker

The thing about small-town life is that it moves slowly.

It’s steady and predictable. And it’s just the way I like it.

Bridger Falls doesn’t change much. It hasn’t in the fifteen years I’ve lived here. The people have stayed the same, and the town square still smells like fresh bread from Harvest & Honey deli every morning. The Black Dog, my bar and sanctuary, still have the same energy it always has. The safe and solid life that I’ve built for us.

And as far as I’m concerned, that’s how it should be.

I pour myself a cup of coffee and lean against the bar, watching the early afternoon sun slant through the rustic windows. It’s quiet now, the lull between the lunch rush and the regulars rolling in for their evening drinks and to catch up on the town gossip.

Quiet is good. Quiet is safe.

But ever since Violet Wilson walked into this town, I haven’t felt calm.

And that’s a problem.

I had one rule when I moved here: no more living in the public eye. No more risks. No more trusting people who could tear my life apart. And especially not my daughter's life.

And for the most part, I’ve kept that promise.

I still write songs, sure. Can’t seem to shake that part of myself, even after all these years. I keep the small cabin out back, tucked behind the lake on my property, where I can write and record in secret. No one in Bridger Falls knows what I do out there. Not even Maggie, and she knows damn near everything. Keeping that from her hasn’t been easy, either. She’s nosy as hell.

I sell my songs under a pseudonym. Let the world think they come from some anonymous songwriter who wants no part of the spotlight. Because that part is true, I don’t. I don’t live that life anymore, and I never will.

The industry chewed me up once, and I won’t give it another chance to do it again.

This town is my world now. My daughter is my entire world.

I let nothing in that could destroy the peace I’ve built. I don’t let anyone in, period.

At least, I didn’t until her.

Maggie has a soft spot for lost souls, and Violet coming here means she had something to run from.

I know all about running.

I didn’t expect Violet to pull the rug out from under me and ruin the carefully built world I’ve built in the best way possible.

When I saw her for the first time at The Black Dog, standing in the middle of my bar like she belonged there, I knew she was different. Special. And I couldn’t understand it then, but I definitely see it now.

That night, with her dark red wavy hair fallingin wild waves down her back, eyes too damn knowing, lips curled in amusement as she could already see straight through me, she looked like she knew exactly what kind of man I was and wasn’t scared of anything.

And that? That’s dangerous.

Because I don’t let people in. I don’t get involved. Even when they’re running from things that make me want to protect them. Because I can’t take those risks anymore.

But then she smiled at me, and I felt a crack in the armor I thought was impenetrable.

I’ve never met anyone like her.

The problem with Violet is that she doesn’t act like an outsider.

She walks around Bridger Falls like she’s been here forever. She fits in so well. It's hard not to like her. She makes it damn easy.

She’s already got Cami and Poppy wrapped around her finger and already has half the town gossiping about her in that good-natured, small-town way. They all like her, too.

She’s helping Maggie at the motel, taking care of things like she’s been doing it her whole life.

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