Page 91 of Against All Odds

“Write a letter. You know, like in the good old days. Like Napoleon wrote to Josephine, or Henry VIII wrote to Anne Boleyn.”

“You do realize Napoleon and Josephine didn’t end well? And Henry VIII had Anne’s head chopped off?”

“Well, maybe you can rewrite history,” Wyatt suggested.

That’s how the letters started.

They were delivered to her with a bouquet every day—at work, from Tuesday through Sunday, and at her home on Monday.

September 1

Sable,

I’m not giving up on you. You are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever known, and I’ll do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, to show you just how much I mean that.

Heath

September 3

Sable,

You’re the kind of person who makes people feel at home, even when they don’t realize they’re lost. The Wildflower is proof of that. Every corner of that place feels like you. Warm, welcoming, and one-of-a-kind.

I miss you.

Heath

September 5

Sable,

Did you know I can’tlook at a Malbec without thinking of you? It’s your drink, just like the Wildflower is your place. It’s funny how things that were once just ordinary have become reminders of you.

Heath

September 10

Sable,

I remember the first time you smiled at me. Not the polite kind you give to strangers, but the real one. The one that lights up your whole face. I think I fell in love with you then. I’ve not been the same since.

Heath

September 14

Sable,

Do you know how much I admire you? You built a formidable life for yourself in a town that didn’t make it easy for you. That takes guts, and you’ve got more of them than anyone I know.

Heath

September 20

Sable,

You once told me that growing up in a trailer park defined you. But all I see is the woman you are—the woman who turns setbacks into stepping stones.

Heath

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