
Davonshire House Presents

A Walk Through Endurance

Olivia Gaines

Siera London

Davonshire House Publishing

PO Box 9716

Augusta, GA 30916

THIS BOOK IS A WORK of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's vivid imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, are entirely a coincidence.

(C) 2018 Olivia Gaines, Cheryl Aaron Corbin

Editor: Rena Miller

Proofer: Freedom's Hammer

Cover: KouGraphics

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address, Davonshire House Publishing, PO Box 9716, Augusta, GA 30916.

Printed in the United States of America

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First Davonshire House Publishing May 2018

Also by Olivia Gaines

The Slice of Life Series

  * The Perfect Man
  * Friends with Benefits
  * A Letter to My Mother
  * The Basement of Mr. McGee
  * A New Mommy for Christmas

The Slivers of Love Series

  * The Cost to Play
  * Thursday in Savannah
  * Girl's Weekend
  * Beneath the Well of Dawn
  * Santa's Big Helper

The Davonshire Series

  * Courting Guinevere
  * Loving Words
  * Vanity's Pleasure

The Blakemore Files

  * Being Mrs. Blakemore
  * Shopping with Mrs. Blakemore
  * Dancing with Mr. Blakemore
  * Cruising with the Blakemores
  * Dinner with the Blakemores
  * Loving the Czar
  * Being Mr. Blakemore

The Value of a Man Series

  * My Mail Order Wife
  * A Weekend with the Cromwell's

Other Novellas

  * North to Alaska
  * The Brute & The Blogger
  * A Better Night in Vegas ( Betas Do It Better Anthology)

Other Novels

  * A Menu for Loving
  * Turning the Page
  * An Untitled Love

DEDICATION

--------

For My Friend

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A very special thank you to Siera London who saw the vision and took a chance with me. Loads of love.

A hearty shout out to the Tuesday Sushi Club.

To Terri, who is never afraid to give me the hard truths. I value your wisdom.

And to my bibliophile nation. Thank you.

A Walk Through Endurance

Olivia Gaines

# Table of Contents

Chapter 1- Getting Acclimated

Chapter 2 - Winter & Intervals of Love

Chapter 3 - The Art of Persistence

Chapter 4 - Staying the Course

Chapter 5 - Going the Distance

Chapter 6 - A Walk Through Endurance

Intervals of Love

Chapter One - The Warm Up

About Olivia Gaines

Staying the Course

CHAPTER 1

The Men of Endurance Series

"Whatever you can do,

Or think you can begin it.

Boldness has power and genius,

And magic in it." - Goethe

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# Chapter 1- Getting Acclimated

The flight into Sacramento International airport from Minneapolis was a turbulent journey filled with overzealous athletes and people wanting to test the strengths of their hearts. By Julie Kratzner's standards, all of the people were certifiable nut jobs journeying to the verdant region for endurance races. In her hand, she held the annual schedule for the mountain town, which drew in hundreds of thousands of people annually, craving to test their endurance skills on scenic trails, calm waters, and sportsmanship either on two feet, two wheels or on horseback. The schedule she held showed events from February through November of endurance challenge races, covering every sport from 100-mile foot races to 50k mountain bike runs and a one-day, 100-mile race on horseback.

In her estimation, anyone who wanted to run a race for 100 miles on the back of a horse was nuts. So was she. For one whole year, Julie would be a permanent resident of the sleepy little town called Endurance, her new home for the race season. As a journalist for Sports Complicated, it was her year to spend in the picturesque town, stepping over horseshit and listening to men whine about the soreness of their balls from sitting for long periods of time in the saddle or on a mountain bike.

Nuts.

When it all came down to it, all of it was about nuts. Either a man wanted to prove his was bigger than the next guy or he would lose them in the crack of a mountain bike seat at the 25k mark, coming down a rocky trail. And there were loads of trails to hike, climb, scale or get your feet wet. Looking down at the map, laying it next to the calendar, she clearly identified 11 trails; each more detailed than the last. Glancing at the schedule her boss had given her, she identified twenty separate events during the 10-month period, which included the eight signature events held by the town. It was her job to cover them all, but as a budding novelist, she also wrote romantic stories under a pen name that her boss knew nothing about.

Unbeknownst to Sports Complicated, Julie mapped out a plan to uncomplicate the year by writing a novel about a sports enthusiast who fell for a local girl and moved to the small town of Endurance. Small towns were hot beds for romances on and off the books, and she saw no reason why this one would not be the same. There was always a spark to be witnessed between two unlikely souls that would make great fodder for a sweet, small town romance about two mismatched bodies, finding the perfect syncopation. She only had to move in, get settled, and tell the locals she wrote for the magazine. The rest would be her little secret.

However, right now, her secret was going to be given away if the man in the next seat grabbed her hand one more time when the plane hit a pocket of turbulence. Truthfully, she didn't mind so much since he was a good-looking, hairy knuckled sort of fellow without a wedding ring. It had been a while since a man touched anything more than her hand, and Mr. Hairy Knuckles smelled like a night of happiness, wrapped in a couple of oohs and ahhs. The spark ignited by the touch of his hand sent goosebumps up her arm, down her spine, and that sweet spot she often ignored when it complained of loneliness. Maybe if Mr. Sexy Silver Fox was heading in her direction, she may look up the spark igniter of her dead furnace.

Julie gave him a reassuring smile as she patted his hand with her free one. The blue eyes searched her face for hope that he would not die before the plane landed. Absently, she rubbed the fine hairs on the back of his hand, receiving a smile from him that made her heart jump in her chest. Possibilities. He was a possibility for a nice diversion on a rainy Saturday afternoon. Just because she would be stuck in the mountains didn't necessarily mean she should be bored out of her gourd.

"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely. "I hate flying."

"It's okay, we are all afraid of something," she told him. Julie began to think she was afraid of the flight never coming to an end. However, she was enjoying holding the nice man's hand. The tender moment came to an abrupt halt as the fasten seat belt signs lit up and the flight attendants made the final walk through of the cabin.

The captain's voice came over the intercom announcing their arrival into Sacramento, and she was grateful to soon be on the ground. Captain Combs landed the plane without a hitch, much to the pleasure of the hand holding hottie. One by one, they departed the plane, taking elevators and escalators to the bottom floor to collect luggage or secure ground transportation. Julie too, wanted to get the party started, locating her overly packed luggage on the conveyor belt. Bending over the black rotating belt of colorful baggage, she reached for the patchwork suitcase, losing her balance only to embarrassingly become an item of laughter as her purse became entangled with straps of the broken handle, trapping her on the belt. Her butt stuck up in the air as she rode the oversized case around the carousel, trying desperately to untangle herself. Each time she tried to free herself, the strap yanked her back down like an overzealous lover not wanting to let her off the ride of love.

"Oooh," she wailed, trying to get free.

The man on the plane, who'd held her hand during much of the ride, needed to secure his package, get to his vehicle and head home. He was tired, his stomach gurgled and he wanted to find the woman on the plane to offer a token of gratitude. However, he'd lost sight of the attractive young woman who allowed him comfort by caressing the back of his hand during the turbulence on the plane. Wanting to thank her for the assist, he looked high and low but to no avail. Once the door open, passengers flooded out like bugs running from the lights coming on in the kitchen. Hopefully, when they reached the baggage claim, he'd be able to properly thank her or at least offer her his card. Maybe she'd get a chance to see him as something more than a frightened man on a bumpy flight. His wish came true in the most unusual manner when he entered the baggage claim area to find her straddled on her luggage, impinged by the strap of her purse, bouncing up and down on the luggage like a ride at the traveling carnival.

A wide-hipped security guard, who closely resembled the mean lunch lady in every elementary school, watched her with a sour face with her hands on her hips as Julie went around the carousel for the third time. Each rotation allowed more luggage to dump from the black hole being fed from the plane's belly. The additional bags would jostle her on the belt, further securing her embarrassing seat on the luggage go- round. To her sheer delight, the hairy knuckled hand holder from the plane reached down and lifted her and the suitcase up in one motion, up righting both onto the floor. Her body slid against his, warming her from her core. The man was solid. He barely strained as he lifted her and the loaded suitcase. Balminess hit her again as his arms brushed against her exposed skin sending signals to the dead furnace to wake up and warm the room.

"There ya go, little lady," he said. "I was hoping to repay your kindness from the plane."

"I appreciate it," she mumbled, trying to get away before he offered to give her a ride, buy her coffee, or devise a workout plan so that she would have more upper body strength. Who am I kidding? I was just assaulted by a suitcase in public.

Noticing the look of distaste on her face, he opted not to hand her a business card, or ask her for coffee, or to share a cab. Attractive women like her were used to getting hit upon and receiving unwanted offers to spend time with lonely men. He was not planning to be the next "no thank you" in her daily discourse with the dumb. With a tip of his hat, he disappeared among the crowd, leaving her to wander her way to the double sliding glass door to the street. Horns honked, tires screeched, and people yelled in different languages as they all climbed into vehicles ready to start a new adventure. The same thought came to mind as she located the rental car van and climbed aboard to be driven to the lot to pick up her $20 a week rental. A rented car, a rented house, and rented time was all she had as she loaded up the little compact, headed out toward I-80 driving towards Endurance, California.

Forty minutes later, turning down Saratoga Springs Road, the picturesque beauty of the small town, complete with a local college, a fishing pond, and so much cuteness she could hardly stand it stole her breath away. There was even a golf course named after Able Burney. She had no idea who that was, but in the next 10 months, she would find out all about the man, his golf course, and the good people who lived in the town of Endurance.

****

THE TOWN WASN'T VERY large but was nestled in a small valley surrounded by mountains, hills, and panoramic views. Her fingertips itched to get to a keyboard to tap out the descriptions of what she saw as she drove down Miller Road coming into the center of town. Pleased to see a local museum which also housed the library, she grinned to see the hospital next to it, squeezed in between the town hall and a bakery, which she was certain made delicious donuts, that sat next to the police station. Making a left, she turned down Dodger Lane, passing a cute coffee shop and locating the rental home she would occupy.

The adorable two-bedroom cottage, fully stocked with everything she would need for the upcoming stay. Locating the door key under the flower pot on the small front porch adorned with two rockers, she let herself into the warm home filled with small touches to make anyone who entered feel welcomed. On the table sat a list of places to eat, buy groceries, have a beer, or even a cup of coffee. She was delighted to find the list also included a bookstore, three local churches, and a Farmer's Market down by Tommy's Park. Locating her notepad, she jotted down a note to find out about Abel Burney and what happened to Tommy why he had a park named after him.

Riffling through her oversized suitcase, she checked the fridge and pantry, not sure why, but out of habit. Both were empty. Going back to the list, she located a grocer, checked the local map and found it to be within walking distance. Everything in the town was within walking distance. She didn't want to appear as the local greenhorn, so taking the two reusable shopping bags with her that she located in the empty pantry, Julie locked the front door, added the door key to her set of car keys, and made her way to Ma Hildie's Grocery Store and Wine Tasting Bar.

The grocery store, a quaint little place, which sold easy burning fire logs, cheese covered petrified worms, canned possum, and a deli with mouthwatering delights held all the basic necessities required to stock up. To her pleasure, it also held a wine store with free tastings. Since she was walking, plus totally detested grocery shopping, she opted for the wine tasting first. Three samples later and feeling a bit lightheaded, it was time to shop for food. Shopping didn't take Julie long since her cooking ability ebbed on the use of the microwave or an Instapot. Loading up on frozen meals, fruits, a can of peaches and just about everything the deli had in sealed little plastic containers, the grocery bags had become too heavy for her to carry.

"I should have brought my car," she said to the cashier.

"You staying close by?" the young girl asked.

"Yes, I am a block over in the little blue cottage on Dodger Lane," Julie offered. "I am staying here all year to cover the events in Endurance."

"Well, aren't you just the cool cat in town!" The young woman offered. "Since you are so close, take the shopping cart. You can unload your groceries, and then bring it back."

"That is the best suggestion I have heard all day," Julie answered.

Happy with her purchases, she headed out of the door, feeling a bit more lightheaded than was comfortable. A rude awakening came quickly as she understood the subtlety of the slight downgrade in the route she'd taken to get to the store. It was an uphill struggle with the shopping cart to get back to the cottage. Never one to question those who believed in physical fitness, she now questioned herself for a lack of the basic strength to push a grocery cart uphill. If the ride on the carousel was bad, this small little trip down exercise row had winded her to the point of exhaustion by the time she reached the cottage's front porch. The energy left her as she laid back on the porch with the groceries still in the cart, her knees clamped together in an effort to hold back the massive amount of pee in her bladder. This was it. Headline news would read, Pissy woman found dead on front porch of cute blue rental cottage on Dodge Lane. Her heart exploded from pushing two bags of groceries in a cart uphill. If only she had the oxygen in her lungs to get up. The food would have to wait. She didn't have the strength to lift the bags out to carry them inside.

Splayed out like she'd had a heart attack, several people stopped to make sure she was alive. One gentleman, a Dr. Chadwick Winter, even went as far as checking her pulse. Wide eyes looked at him with a pissed off expression, which only elicited a warm smile from the attractive, clean cut, black man.

"I'm a doctor Madam," he offered as he touched her wrist. "The altitude is pretty high up here, and you will need to take it slow the first two weeks to become acclimated." Dr. Winter took the keys from her hand, opened her front door, and took her groceries inside. Coming back, he helped her up off the porch as she flopped down on the couch like a torn rag doll, watching the stranger put away her groceries as if he lived in the house.

"You can put these were you want them after you catch your breath," he said, passing her a bottle of water. "I will take the shopping cart back to Ma Hildie's. Here, drink some water."

She accepted the bottle, but unable to open it due to her strength being a permanent resident on that last bit of incline. Hopefully, later today, it would catch up with her only to find her still sitting on the couch. Julie felt like an idiot for studying all the notes on the town but failing to factor in the high altitude. The air was thin, and she hadn't factored in that portion either.

"If you are going to be in town for a while, it would really help for you to get out each day and walk a little to build up your endurance. After a month or so, use the bike on the front porch to get around town, so you may get stronger and used to the thin air up here," Dr. Winter told her.

He handed her a business card, smudged with frosting. Embarrassed, he took it back replacing it with a clean card. "Sorry about that. I have a major sweet tooth and spend way too much time at The Cupcakery. You should head there tomorrow. On Tuesdays, the owner bakes red velvet and key lime cupcakes. My favorite is the banana pudding ones. They have real pudding in the middle," he offered with a smile.

Giving her back her keys, he waved in farewell, and then left Julie alone on the couch with her thoughts. Her limp hands fumbled with the business card as her eyes tried to focus on the words. Try as she might to zoom in on the small print, her vision blurred, her lungs constricted, and she swore Tweety flew by her right ear.

"Just flipping great," she said, leaning over on the couch in defeat.

Her rescuer had been a pediatrician. Tomorrow, she would follow the doctor's order and visit The Cupcakery to try out the local flavor. One thing was certain, until she acclimated as he so fervently recommended, Julie would be driving her vehicle.

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# Chapter 2 - Winter & Intervals of Love

The couch was evil incarnate as far as Julie was concerned. It held her hostage for the remainder of the day. And when the night rolled in and the moon rose high, peeking through the ugly curtains hanging precariously at the windows, she felt violated by its intrusion. She'd been in Endurance for less than twelve hours and already three people knew she had no stamina and could not breathe in the thin mountain air. The nosey moon who constantly peeped into the living room window, the clerk at Ma Hildie's who didn't see her return the cart, and of course, the handsome pediatrician Dr. Chadwick Winter. Well, it would be four people if you counted Couchie, her new best friend.

Since she'd spent so much time with the couch in such a short period of time, Julie felt it needed a name. Normally, she didn't sleep with anyone on a first date, but Couchie was her new lover and best friend. In her hours of need, he'd cradled her in his embrace, soothed her wounded pride, and comforted her lungs that swore she'd taken up a nasty habit of inhaling shallow breaths incapable of sustaining oxygen to her brain. A brain which felt addled this morning and in dire need of coffee.

Groaning as her muscles protested a night of unencumbered romance with Couchie, she tried to stand, but her legs resembled wet noodles after dropping in a pot of hot water. Slowly rubbing her stiff back. She made it to the small kitchen pantry, locating the bag of a coffee she'd purchased. Unfortunately, she'd forgotten to buy coffee filters.

"Great," she mumbled, looking for an alternative to filter the grounds. The only thing she had were paper towels. "This will work too."

Ripping off a smaller version of the multi-sized sheets, she folded it with care into the hopper. Locating a spoon, she ladled in two heaping teaspoons full, adding the small bottle of water to the reservoir and pressing the little orange button to start the drip of morning refreshment. The light didn't come on.

She pressed it again.

Still no light.

She stared at the pot with utter contempt, angered at its refusal to be her friend. Five minutes passed and there was no steamy hiss, no steady drip, no water flowing through the pot. She wanted to scream. This was too much. Riffling through the cabinets, she hoped and prayed that there would be at least an old-fashion percolator under the cabinets, but to no avail.

"This is unacceptable," she grumbled, searching for her keys. Without checking her appearance, she headed out the front door with the local map in search of coffee. To her amazement and the blessings from the coffee fairy, she located High Altitudes Coffee House less than three blocks from her little rental.

Unable to form a coherent sentence, she entered the coffee shop and slapped a twenty on the counter with a growl. The vibrant young lady behind the counter stared at her for a minute, and then smiled a knowing grin.

"One grande coffee, regular coming up," she said with Julie watching her suspiciously. She poured the hot java into a disposable cup. "I left the lid off with room for cream, which is right over there," she pointed.

Julie followed the direction of the finger, growling and moving like a zombie to the stand. Adding two sugars and a dollop of cream, she stirred, sipped, spooned in more sugar, stirred again, and drank. Blinking several times, she began to notice people watching her in amusement. To her absolute horror, the man from the plane who'd rescued her from the overzealous carousel also sat by the window enjoying the Julie Gets Coffee Show.

Julie raised a hand, waving at him. He waved back. Even with her thin air deprived lungs and fuzzy brain, that man was still covered in sexy.

Oh shit. He is getting up. He is coming towards me. Try to smile.

Her smile looked as if she'd just stolen peaches off his favorite tree and broken a limb on it as well. He wasn't looking at her face but almost over her head. Julie turned to see if someone stood behind her.

No one was there.

"Rough night?" big sexy man asked.

"No, bad morning," she replied, looking up at him, "the coffee pot in my rental is broken."

"It would appear your hairbrush is as well," he said, placing a massive paw on top of her head.

"Huh?" she said, moving over to the glass to see herself in its reflection. Hair stuck straight up from her head as if she'd walked through an electromagnetic current. "Oh, dear Jesus!"

The man laughed a throaty chuckle which reverberated in his chest. Julie was mortified twice. First, the conveyor belt now this. Her hair stood up on her head in the center of her scalp and one side was mushed to her head. The lipstick she wore yesterday had not come off during the night but was smeared across her mouth as if she'd been molested by Couchie's best pal, Mr. Pillow.

"My name is Abel," he said. "Abel Burney."

"Julie Kraztner, Sports Complicated Magazine," she said, looking down at the hand he offered in introduction.

"Ms. Kratzner, where is the rental that you are residing in during your stay?" He asked.

"A few blocks over," she told him, sipping the coffee trying to clear her brain. "The little blue cottage on Dodger Lane."

"I know it well," he said, offering her a napkin. "I tell you what I am going to do. Please allow me to treat you to breakfast at Della's Diner, then we will see about getting you a coffee pot."

"Go ahead and admit it," she mumbled, "you think I'm pathetic."

"No, I think you are adorable," he said with a smile.

She knew that kind of smile. It was the type of warmness a man gave when attempting to assess the level of crazy on a woman. Based on what her brother Eric had told her, men would venture as far as an eight on the crazy scale with a woman if the sex was bananas. A nine on the crazy chick scale could easily be a drawn out into a three-night stand, but a ten meant run.

"Good. This adorable lady needs some food," she said to him.

"In normal circumstances, I would suggest we walk, but you appear to be incapable of making complex decisions this morning," he said.

"The altitude is messing with me, Mr. Burney, but I drove myself over here," she said looking at him with interest. "I can drive myself to the diner."

"Great, meet you there in a few," he said, mushing her hair down.

"Cupcake," she said to him. "I have eggs and bacon at the house. I want a cupcake or a bagel, not breakfast.

He pointed down the street towards the center of town. "The Cupcakery is right over there next to town hall. Considering you are in house slippers, are you up for the walk?"

Julie looked at her feet, then realized, at some point during the night, she'd put on her pajamas. She was in public, in her pajamas, in pink bunny house shoes, with no bra, and her hair stood up all over her head. At least, she'd put on a jacket and the coffee was good.

"Mr. Burney, twice you have seen me in less than optimal conditions. If you would be so kind, I need to go home first and get dressed," she said with a blank look on her face.

"I tell you what Julie Kratzner... I'm going to drive you, wait while you get yourself together, and treat you to one of the best cupcakes in town," he said, gripping her elbow. She shuffled towards the door, looking forward to getting out of the small shop.

"Hey lady, your change," the girl behind the counter called out.

"Start a tab," Julie said. "I'll be back."

****

ABEL HAD WATCHED JULIE pull up in the small little blue car, parking haphazardly and taking up two parking spaces. It took everything in him not to laugh when she stepped out of the car, her hair sticking up in every direction with the pink bunny slippers on her feet. She was in dire need of a cup of coffee and quiet possibly a babysitter. He remembered her from the plane as well as her allowing him to hold her hand during the turbulence. The favor he thought he'd repaid in full when he rescued her from the luggage carousel when her handful of bottom was tooted up in the air as she rode around on top of the luggage. She was, in fact, adorable as she sat in his passenger seat, losing the battle with the seat belt. In frustration, she growled when she was unable to get it to connect after several attempts. Abel reached over, grabbed the strap, and clicked the safety device into the holder.

"Shut up," she said in laughter at her own ridiculousness. "These past two days have been horrific. I am all out of sorts."

"Not judging, just enjoying the show," he said, putting the car into gear. He drove the three blocks to the little blue cottage. Parking in the drive, he asked her for the keys to the front door.

Julie looked at him with large, doe like eyes, as she said softly, "I left them in my car."

Abel started to laugh as he backed out the driveway, turned his vehicle, and headed back to the coffee shop. He didn't make a sound as he parked, got out of his car, walked around the back end of the automobile, and retrieved her keys from the ignition. Luckily, the majority of the crowds had not come to town yet or someone would have had the pleasure of joyriding in her car. He held onto the keys as he drove them to the blue cottage, parking in the drive for the second time. Reaching across the console, he unfastened her seat belt and pulled the latch to open the car door for her.

"Thank you," she said.

"No worries," he replied, "I will wait for you while you shower and dress."

As far as Julie was concerned, her interactions with Abel Burney couldn't get any worse than the two she'd already had with the man. He opened the door to find her suitcase in the middle of the floor with her clothing strewn all over the hardwood. A pair of underwear dangled haphazardly on the lamp with the crotch facing upwards.

"I'm not going to even ask," he said, looking about. He picked up the suitcase, clamped all the loose clothing inside, picking the panties off the lamp and carried it to the bedroom. Sitting the luggage on the bed, he looked at Julie closely. Adorable was the perfect word for her. She was nearly five seven, but her head only reached his chin. Soft, ebony skin, big brown expressive eyes, and curly black hair which sorely needed a brush. He felt an unfamiliar attraction to her unlike any he'd experienced in the last few years. Maybe, I've been single too long because this woman is a heated mess, but I'm drawn to her.

"Good, because I don't have an answer," she told him kicking off the pink bunny slippers. "I won't be long."

"I'll wait in the other room," he told her. Abel closed the bedroom door. Going to the kitchen he checked the fridge. She did have bacon and eggs, so he decided to cook them a quick breakfast. Curiosity made him check the coffee pot, and it was indeed broken. He left the uncooked eggs and bacon on the counter. Grabbing her keys, he made a quick run to the local store where he purchased a new coffee pot and filters.

When he returned, Julie was still in the shower, leaving him to start coffee. Abel sizzled bacon, scrambled eggs, and made a few slices of toast by the time she came out of the bedroom dressed and in shock when he poured her the second cup of hot coffee to get her morning going. By Abel's assessment, the lady needed at least two to make her a functional member of society.

"If you are telling me that you got the pot to work, I am packing my things and leaving right now," she said, accepting the mug.

"No," he said, pulling out the chair. "You took that long to get showered and dressed. I went and bought you a coffee pot and made breakfast."

"Normally, I don't give two toots from a cow's arse what people think of me, but you for some odd reason matter," she said.

"Are you telling me Julie that I matter to you" he asked with one eyebrow arched.

"You don't matter more than this coffee and food if that's what you are asking," she said.

"Fair enough. Eat up and we will go and get you a cupcake," he said like a father would to his child. A twinkle was in his eye when he said the words in a non-fatherly tone as if implying, good behavior meant she would receive more treats. The oddest sensation came over her. She didn't want Abel Burney to think of her as a child contrary to everything he'd seen about her thus far.

I am intrigued by this man, and I care about what he thinks of me.

****

THE CUPCAKERY WAS A delightful shop full of pastel colors and equally vibrant sweet treats lined up like delectable soldiers in the display case vying for customers to snap to attention and salute the chef's efforts. To Abel, it reminded him of the animal shelter with all the animals crying out to be taken home and cared for by a loving owner. Julie decided not to let them down. Three red velvet, two key lime, and the banana pudding cupcakes were hers to love. The banana pudding one she wanted to eat on the spot, taking a table by the window with her new friend Abel.

Another friend walked through the door. Dr. Winter entered with an expression of determination on his face as he went up to the counter and ordered the banana pudding cupcake, chatting away with the shop owner. The woman listened intently but only provided two words answers.

"He is trying too hard," Julie said to Abel. "The woman is obviously not interested and only being polite."

"You are wrong," Abel said, biting into a Snickerdoodle, "look at her body language."

Abel was right. The shopkeeper's body language conveyed a different message to the good doctor that she was indeed interested. Fingers lingered in his hand when she returned his change as if they shared a secret tryst the night before and no one knew but the two of them. She touched her hair several times after removing the gloves she wore to bag up or box up sweet treats, but she wasn't talking back to him.

"She's not returning the conversation," Julie said, watching them closely, "only two-word responses."

"Sherron, that's her name. She has a speech impediment," Abel said. "The doc knows this, which is why he phrases his comments so that she can answer in her own way."

"Are they in a relationship?"

"No," Abel said. "However, she is a catch."

"How? She is dressed like one of the Who's from Whoville. He is in tailored black clothing, which is a complete opposite of her. They have nothing in common, and I don't believe that opposites attract that much," she whispered to Abel.

"Maybe," he said.

"I take it you disagree with me," she said.

"I do. You don't see me leaving the house in my pajamas and pink bunny slippers to go get coffee, but here we are together," he said, arching one eyebrow.

"You and I are no more in a relationship than those two people," she countered.

Abel bit into the remainder of the cookie, eyeing her with interest. Julie intrigued him, and he wanted to know more about her. He also found himself interested in her perspective on relationships.

"Not yet," he said, watching her expression change as she tried to understand what he was inferring.

"The couple is not yet in a relationship," she repeated, trying to find clarification.

"Sure, if that's what you thought you heard," he said, raising his hand to Sherron, the owner for another cookie. This also drew Doc Winter's attention away from the store owner, prepared to challenge whoever dared to draw her focus away from him

"Oh hey, Julie," Dr. Winter said to her, spotting Abel. "Hey there Abel. I see you have met your tenant."

Julie's arched her eyebrows in response, which crinkled her forehead. He was the owner of the cottage she rented as well as the golf course. Abel Burney was shielding loads of information from her that she prayed the good doctor would feel the need to hold back a few tidbits of information about their first encounter as well. He didn't.

"I'm glad to see you out and about Julie," he said. "I was concerned when I found you splayed out like that on your front porch. Ma Hildie asked about you as well when I returned the shopping cart. She said she didn't think you were going to make it up that incline. They were placing bets on you in the store that you would pass out before you made it to the driveway of the cottage."

Julie sighed as Abel's fist went to his mouth to stifle his laughter.

"I thought doctors were supposed to be tight lipped and keepers of the HIPAA Act and Hippocratic oath," Julie said.

"You are not my patient," Dr. Winter replied. "Besides, it is fairly common with the thin air to have that sort of reaction."

"Welcome to End...dd...u...rance," Sherron the shopkeeper said as she placed another cookie on a cute paper plate in front of Abel.

"I'm Julie Kraztner, Sports Complicated Magazine," she offered.

"You know...Chad...wick...? I mean...Dr. Winter," Sherron asked with one eyebrow raised.

"Yes, we met yesterday," Julie said. "How long have you two been dating?"

Both Dr. Winter and Sherron began to stutter as she wiped her hands on her apron and disappeared behind the counter. More people came into the shop, pulling the cupcake maker away from him taking her attentions from his skillful flirting leaving Dr. Winter to take a seat without being offered one.

"Sherron and I are not dating," he whispered.

"Yeah, but you want to date her," Julie said, leaning closer and whispering back.

"How do you know that?"

"Because you talked to her about the most mundane things to get her to engage with you," Julie said. "The moment her attention was drawn to someone else, you reacted as if Abel's request for another cookie was a threat. You've got it bad doc."

"Julie, you are new in town," Dr. Winter said to her with all sincerity, "you can't just go about making assessments of people and sharing what you think, which may or may not be correct."

"Now you know how I feel," she said to him.

Abel and Dr. Winter leaned back in the chair in unison, folding their arms across their chest as they took in Julie Kraztner. The corner of Dr. Winter's mouth twitched while Abel Burney squinted his eyes. I like her. I like her a lot.

"Julie, Endurance is not only the place where people come to test their mettle against nature, but it's also a community of single fathers," Abel said.

"Are you a single father as well?" She asked Abel.

"Yes and no," he said. "My son is completing college at the university this year."

She turned her attention to Chadwick, "And you Dr. Winter?"

"I have a three-year-old named James," he said.

"Interesting," Julie said looking at both men.

They waited for her questions about their lives, but they did not come. Instead, she watched the public interactions with Sherron. Each man that approached the counter made Dr. Winter tense up like he was doing interval training on love muscle failure. The man was sucking all the air out the shop. Julie needed to get her day moving, unpack, and learn how to breathe in the thin air of Endurance.

"Don't wait too long to make your move doc," she offered standing up. "A woman like that is catching many eyes and loads of attention. This cupcake alone is enough to make me want to ask her out, and I don't like women."

Abel sputtered the rest of his cookie at the frankness of her words. He got to his feet collecting his cup of decaf tea, hurrying to catch up with the woman. Abel wanted to spend more time with Julie. She had something very few women were able to get from him −his undivided attention.

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# Chapter 3 - The Art of Persistence

Abel sat behind his desk staring absently out the window trying to determine how the wreck of a woman named Julie had penetrated his defenses. Julie Kraztner was nothing like any of women he'd ever dated nor had any interest in. If you would have asked him five years ago, well even ten, he would not have given her a second look. After only two days, the hot mess of a writer was all over his radar, blurring the screen with her constant blips of adorable annoyance.

Even now, he wanted to call her to see if she was free tomorrow night to attend a gala opening at the Endurance Museum with him. The curator, Amelie Bishop, had a new display coming in on African art, and it would be followed up in the spring with an exhibit on Mayan artifacts. The gala, a catered affair with tiny finger sandwiches and seafood on skewers, had quickly become a winter seasonal favorite by the art lovers in the town. If he wasn't mistaken, Amelie had also hired genuine African dancers and authentic cooks to cater the food for the opening. He loved the gala opening because it meant guests would come to his golf course for an afternoon or early morning tee offs on the links.

He needed to be persistent with Julie if he wanted her to know he was interested in more than a helpful way of marrying her to her coffee or rescuing her from herself. Maybe he would call on her for lunch under the guise of getting her out of the house to explore more of the town. The good folks in Endurance had embraced him when he was at his lowest after his divorce and ceremonial emptying of his pockets. Hell, he was almost homeless as well.

The divorce had left him a mess of man. Coming to Endurance for a race had changed his life. He loved the community so much that he bought the two-bedroom cottage Julie now rented for his home. Once his son Ralph came for a visit over the summer, he too fell in love with Endurance and wanted to stay, much to his wife's disapproval. However, Abel didn't have the seven-figure job he once had and child support payments dropped to almost nothing. In his approximation, her fight over Ralph centered on the monthly child-support checks. When those dropped to less than two hundred dollars a month, she lost the willingness to fight with him on where and how he could spend time with Ralph. She also stopped fighting when his son returned home after weekend visits. When she stopped calling, he reduced his timelines in returning their offspring back to Sacramento on Sunday nights until one day, he didn't take him back at all. Oh, he still sent the check each month, but his son stayed with him. It was one of the best decisions Abel ever made.

Abel, having lost most of his money in legal fees fighting his wife, found himself in the precarious position of starting over. His luck held out as he won several of the races in Endurance, netting a nice profit which enabled him to purchase a good bit of land and build his golf course. Initially, it was nothing more than a putting green, then he added nine holes. The number of people who came each year to play the course increased, along with the frequent Endurance racers that requested memberships. In less than two years, his income rose to the old salary he used to earn, and he added the last nine holes to the course along with a free-standing restaurant and bar. The 19th Hole had become a second home for him and the boy as well as an office in which he conducted business. Ten years later, Ralph was a senior at UC Endurance, completing his engineering degree.

On occasion, he would teach a class or three at the university, but most of his time was spent piddling about Endurance, looking for ways to improve the small town and the quality of the artistic events available for the annual race goers to participate. After all, the town may have been small, but they did have some culture. Tomorrow, he planned to take in some of that culture with an attractive young lady on his arm. What magazine did she say she worked for again? Ah yes, Sports Complicated. He turned in his chair and looked it up online.

Locating the webpage, he found Julie's staff photo. Underneath the picture was an email address. He clicked the blue link which opened an email window. Typing a quick message, he asked her to call because he had tickets to the gala opening at the museum. Checking the message twice, he read over it a third time to ensure there were no innuendos hidden in the text and clicked send.

"Shit, I forgot to include my phone number," he mumbled, recalling the message, correcting it, and sending it again.

Abel stared at the screen. He didn't know what he expected to happen, but he waited patiently like a cat at a mousehole. The loud sound of Viognier spit out of his phone, vibrating simultaneously nearly caused him to jump out of his seat.

The number displayed on the screen had a New York area code. He didn't know anyone from New York and almost didn't answer it, but he lifted the phone from the desk. It is probably a telemarketer.

"Abel Burney," he said.

"Does this gala include tiny food on buttery crackers and good wine, Mr. Burney?" the soft voice said.

She called.

"Yes, it does," he said lowering the octave in his voice, "I'm almost certain it will include some form of seafood or chicken on a skewer as well."

"Good, then it's a date," she said. "Will a little black dress be appropriate?"

"It will," he said with a smile. "The gala is an African exhibit, and don't ask me why, but I have a Kenta cloth tie."

"I have a matching head wrap," Julie responded. "If you don't ask any questions, I won't either."

Abel laughed. "Six pm, be ready to roll," he said softly.

"See you then," Julie said and hung up the phone.

Holy crap, I have a date.

****

JULIE SPENT MOST OF the next day trying her hand at riding the bike around Endurance. She made it as far as the coffee shop and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to reorient herself to pedal the bike for the three blocks to her house. The nice girl behind the counter made her a protein smoothie packed with potassium which helped a great deal. The bike was pushed as she made her way to the cottage, and the remainder of the evening she spent with her second boyfriend, Couchie.

"I love you Couchie, you understand my needs," she whispered to the green flower covered sofa with the high back and oversized pillows. He held her again as she tried to make phone calls to her family, then to her boss who spent most of the conversation laughing at her antics.

"It takes two weeks to become acclimated Julie," Elsie Devonshire, the publishing manager of the magazine, told her.

"I know Elsie, but it is so pretty here, even in winter," she replied, trying to catch her breath. "There are events here that I can't even get to because I can't get enough air to fuel me."

"You are not going to be any good to the magazine or anyone else if they find you blue on the floor from altitude sickness," Elsie told her. "Take it slow."

"I'm trying," she said.

"Although I appreciate the art of persistence, I need you to focus on the long-term goal versus the short term. Get out, meet the locals, let them get used to you being in their world, so they can trust you," Elsie said.

"On that note, I am going to a gala opening tonight at the museum. Kinda looking forward to it," she said.

"You have met someone already?"

Julie bit her bottom lip. She didn't quite meet Abel Burney, but he was thrust into her life. There was no way to deny the attraction between them, and for that reason, she relished the opportunity to get dressed up to show him a different side of her. He was a good-looking man, but she couldn't tell how old Abel was since the man was so physically fit.

"Something like that," she told Elsie, clicking off the line. She thought of the grey temples in Abel's hair, the piercing blue eyes, and the wicked smile. He was, by all means, a silver-fox, but she couldn't tell his age since some people greyed earlier in life than others. It didn't matter either way. He was good looking, and she was bordering on hungry for male companionship.

"I bet he looks good in a suit," she said, giving in to Mr. Pillow. After a quick nap, she would be back up and ready to start plotting the romance novel of a couple, mismatched in every way, but fueled by an undeniable chemistry.

****

ABEL ARRIVED AT THE cottage dressed to impress in his black suit, black dress shoes, and African print tie. He rung the doorbell and tried to shield the bouquet of flowers he brought for the dining room table. Hopefully, if he were lucky, she would take pity on a bachelor by making a nice dinner and inviting him to sample the wonders of her cooking. Who am I kidding? She doesn't seem capable of boiling water. The woman couldn't even find a pair of shoes without her first cup of coffee. How she managed to drive her car in those ridiculous bunny slippers still boggles my mind.

"Wow," Julie said opening the door to a large bouquet of flowers, "double wow on the flowers."

"Are you ready?" Abel asked, stepping across the threshold.

She turned in the black dress which clung to all of her small curves, but the dress was unzipped. The satin black shoes worn on her dainty feet had just enough heel for her to kiss him without having to tiptoe. He felt his cheeks reddened at having such a forward thought.

"I am," she told him grabbing her purse and keys. "Abel, would you be so kind as to zip me up?"

For a moment, the flash of exposed skin made his mouth water, the thoughts in his brain blurred, and the desire to pepper her beautiful skin with butterfly kisses overruled his ability to operate the zipper. Instead, he moved his attention to the Kente cloth resting on the table next to her purse. Abel thought she would have wrapped her hair in the African cloth, but instead, she wore it draped about her shoulders as a wrap. The scent of her perfume made his pupils dilate as he inhaled deeply the heady aroma, which filled the air with each of her movements. She passed by him smelling like a yummy snack to a man on sugar free diet. Abel found himself shocked at his very carnal and all male reaction to Julie.

"Stop looking at me like you want to lick me, Abel Burney," she offered as she handed him the door keys to secure the front door. "We have seafood on a skewer to dine on tonight along with some African art pieces that's probably on the shelves at Target."

"Actually, the curator had these shipped in from Cote d'Ivoirie," he said, opening the car door for her. "I should know... I'm one of the sponsors."

"A rescuer of women and an art lover," she said. "I assume you are single. At least, I hope since you brought me flowers."

"I am very single," he said, checking his rear-view mirror while backing out of the drive slowly. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils with possibilities of a make out session later on the old lumpy couch. At 47 years old, the idea of making out with her made him feel lightheaded. "Are you?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Men seem to flee from all of this awesomeness bundled in a small package of confusion," she said with a wink.

"I'm not fleeing Julie Kraztner," he replied with a wink of his own. "I seem to be running towards the burning building, trying to get inside."

She glanced at him sideways not sure on the meaning of getting inside. Twice he had made comments that she misunderstood, but not tonight, she wanted to be clear on where he was going.

"Is that your plan Abel?" she asked looking at him through the darkened car interior. "Are you trying to get inside?"

"Not yet," he said with a smile and another wink. The wink this time was laced with subtle innuendo that hit the seat of her underpants like a thunderbolt. Light seemed to permeate the dark fabric of the dress, illuminating a possibility that she kept in the dark for many years. Her schedule didn't permit long-term relationships. In all honesty, it was hell on short ones. However, a year in Endurance with Mr. Sexy Grey Temples made her think differently.

She grinned all the way to the museum, which to her surprise was lit up like a Christmas tree. College students served as valets, handing out tickets when they exchanged car keys to park vehicles. A handsome young man with startling blue eyes switched out with another valet to park Abel's car.

"Here is your ticket, Mr. Burney," he said, but his eyes were on Julie.

"Ralph, this is Julie Kratzner. She is a feature writer for Sports Complicated and renting the cottage on Dodger Lane," he told the young man.

Julie thought it odd to give the young man so much information about her. She didn't know him or Abel well enough yet. A conversation would be had once they were out of earshot of the young man. For all she knew, they could be partners in a scheme against the single women in town. The hesitation showed on her face and Abel eased her fears with one sentence.

"Julie, this is my son Ralph Burney."

"Pleasure to meet you," she responded, giving the young man a warm smile and a handshake.

"Enjoy your evening folks," Ralph responded, giving his father the thumbs up.

"I saw that," she called over her shoulder to Ralph.

She could feel Abel's hand in the small of her back as he escorted her through the door as African dancers came out the back room to the sound of drums, moving in rhythm. It took everything in her not to laugh as stiff white people tried to move with the dancers matching their movements. Comical would have been the appropriate word as the dancers stopped moving, but the museum patrons did not, and a tall, attractive black woman addressed the crowd. Giving thanks to the donors and supporters, she carefully avoided naming any one group of individuals as rounds of applause sounded and the exhibit opened.

Abel led her through the building, which was larger than she had expected with the library occupying the top two floors. The display was impressive, but she admired the cases in which the items were showcased. Each container, whether open or encased in glass, appeared to be custom made. Abel noticed her admiring the craftsmanship.

"That is the handy work of Jose Primavera," he told her. "He is a local contractor who creates displays specific for each showing. Amelie Bishop, the curator, has three major exhibits per year. This one runs through the spring."

Julie's attention was in taking in the museum patrons, searching for potential characters in her novel. Her eyes stopped when she spotted a handsome, Hispanic male behind a column. She asked Abel, "I take it Jose is the man hiding behind the case watching her every move?"

Abel turned to see who she was talking about. He spotted Jose standing next to his daughter, Lupita, a bright young girl heart set on getting her father remarried. Leaning down, Abel's lips were close to Julie's ear, he whispered, sending shivers down her spine.

"One and the same. His daughter, Lupita, has been trying for nearly a year to get her father to start dating. She has her sights set on Amelie," he said as his hand pressed into her back, forcing her closer to him.

"Abel, is there any chemistry between Jose and the curator?"

"Tons, but Jose is stupid," Abel offered, which gained Julie's full attention. "I say he is stupid because you see the man standing next to Amelie, that is his best friend Kenny, who is, in fact, an idiot."

"That's not a very nice thing to say," Julie said.

"No, he is. One conversation with him and you will say the same," he said. "The man offered the librarian a fish dinner, but he brought her fresh fish caught down by Tommy's pond, still on the string and still moving."

"Ewww," she replied.

"Exactly. He has no idea how to court a woman, so he's asked for Jose's help," Abel said. "The whole Cyrano thing isn't going to work out even with Kenny's clever artfully persistent approach. There is no way Jose can help that bumbling dullard converse with a worldly woman like Amelie."

Julie could see that Abel was impressed with the curator, prompting her to ask, "May I ask why you didn't go for her?"

"She is young and possibly wants children," he said, slipping his hand into her own, "I'm 47 and looking to travel and enjoy the rest of my life, not spend my mornings changing diapers."

"And what are you doing out tonight with me? I am still of child bearing age," she told Abel. "What if...whatever this is sparking between us goes further and we both want something more?"

Abel appreciated the direct approach of Julie's inquiry, prompting him to ask, "Do you know at this point that you want something more or do you desire the something now?"

"I am an in the moment kind of woman," she said. "And you, Abel?"

"My dear, I am all about the now," he said. "Right now, I want to get out of here and spend a few moments acquainting myself with those adorable lips that are begging me to kiss them."

"You don't waste any time," she said to Abel, pulling away from his touch.

"No, I don't," he said. "The house is rented for a year. I either have a year or however long you are here. From the moment I held your hand on that plane, I haven't been able get you off my mind."

"How convenient that I am renting your house," she said with a tinge of sarcasm.

"The company you work for rented the house," he said, bringing her hand to his lips. "I rent homes all across Endurance to companies, individuals, and seasonal hikers."

"For a moment there, I felt special," she said looking at him with questions on her face, "but now I feel like you select the best of the available renters."

"I am only trying to date you," he said lowering her hand. "I'm rusty at this and taking a chance on you, on us, or whatever this is Julie. If you are not interested, I will not be hurt."

"Liar," she said.

Abel smiled. "Okay, I would be crushed, but I will get over it. Eventually," he told her.

"Well, I have never been one to crush a man's feelings," she told him. "Can we get out of here? It's too many people in such a small space. I feel claustrophobic."

"Sure thing," he said as he led her out a door to a small garden. In the winter, the garden was a misnomer since there were only hibernating shrubs and two park benches. It was cool as a wind blew by them and she shuddered. "Are you cold?"

It was the look she gave him that made his blood boil. Desire for her shot through his lower body, the sensation nearly made him growl with deprivation from physical contact. His arm went around her shoulder, moving her thin frame closer to him as he lowered his head for a kiss. Julie stood immobile, watching the head full of thick hair with grayed temples come at her. Instinctually, she wanted to back off and run from whatever was happening between them, but the need to connect drew her to him as his soft lips connected with hers in a tentative kiss that bordered on animalistic as she clung to the expensive tuxedo he wore like a second skin. His tongue darted into her mouth and dueled with hers as she held tight to his jacket, melting into Abel.

"Oohh, somebody is getting lucky tonight. Work it! Work it! Do your thang, Mr. Burney," a male voice called from somewhere in the garden.

She and Abel broke free of their kiss, both searching for the source of intrusion. She spotted Kenny, Jose's friend, standing behind the dead bushes, pointing at them like a moron.

"You're right, he is an idiot," Julie said.

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# Chapter 4 - Staying the Course

The month of March eased into Endurance with the arrival of the largest crowd Julie had seen to date with runners preparing for the Way Too Cool 50K Run. In her mind, there was nothing cool about running 31 miles unless she was being chased by brain munching zombies. The other thing that was not cool were grown men walking around in running shorts with loose body parts either flapping left and jingling right or being snuggled so tight, it looked as if a bag of chicken parts were being held, hostage.

Nuts.

It still came down to a big set of nuts. This time, at least 3,000 of them had shown up to run a marathon at an elevation of 4,839 feet above sea level. She did notice a change in the town in late February when a great number of the early, serious runners showed up to get acclimated. Even though she'd been in Endurance for well over a month, she still got winded riding her bike to the library. She was also getting winded each time Abel took her out and came back to her place.

The make out sessions were heating up, but she had reservations about the man. At 47 years old, he was indeed in prime shape and a hell of a specimen of a gent, but the whole kid thing bothered her a bit. The curator of the museum didn't appear to be much younger than she was - although kids were not on her list of things to have in any future, alternate or present. But, she didn't appreciate the idea of being in a relationship with a man who immediately said no. Accidents happen and as her mother often said, "Your plans and God's plans are never the same." The idea of fate being cruel and gifting her with an offspring by Abel Burney made her hesitant to move forward with him.

Tonight, she planned to take him to dinner. Her intention had been to pick him up at his office, but whenever she saw him, he was either in the coffee shop, the library or at Della's Diner. So, she called him and asked about dinner plans. This evening, she craved the succulence of a juicy burger washed down with an ice-cold beer for her supper.

"Pick me up at The Cupcakery," he told her, trying to shield the excitement in his voice, "I should be ready by 6:30."

"Sounds like a plan," she said, hanging up the phone while looking down at her notes. Thus far, the preliminary outline of her book was coming together and the structure of the story was sound, but she needed a few more characters to round out the novel. The No Limit Bar and Grille sounded like a great place to meet a few interesting people.

****

INTERESTING WAS THE last thing that came to mind as they entered the eatery on the outskirts of downtown on Miller Road. It wasn't far from Tommy's Park and the Farmer's Market, which she had yet to visit either. That too was in her plans once she mastered riding the bicycle. To date, she was able to ride as far as the center of town square and back, which was a pretty good start for someone who considered physical fitness walking up three flights of stairs.

The air remained cool for the month of March with runners taking advantage of what they labeled as ideal weather to get the endorphins going. Julie thought it was ideal weather to sport her sweater sets on dates with Abel. However tonight, she wanted to have a good conversation with him about kids, the future, and other topics if they planned to continue seeing each other.

Abel too enjoyed the cool weather, looking better than the burger she wanted to devour in a well-fitted pair of dark jeans, a Polo, and a snazzy zip front deep blue cardigan.

"You are going to like this place," he told her as he slid into the passenger seat of her tiny rental, looking like the Hulk had carjacked the vehicle. "It is more for locals, but others have found it and Saturday nights can be crowded."

The parking lot looked like the joint was giving away free hot wings. She located a spot in the rear of grille as she and her hot date walked around front to receive a number and a vibrating alerter to advise them when it was time to be seated. However, Abel spotted the owner, Owen Tate. He waved at him and the blonde-haired hunk waved back, summoning them to come inside. Slowly, they headed in skirting around revelers at the bar towards a table that Owen held for them. In the far-left corner, Abel saw Rui Conners, the history professor, and his eight-year-old daughter, Simone, engaged in an animated discussion. "With her antics, that kid keeps her father on his toes," her date whispered in Julie's ear as he held her chair as they took their seats.

A pretty young woman jaunted over, her eyes devouring Abel as she asked for their drink orders. To her surprise, when the young waitress bounced away like Tigger pumped up on bee pollen, Abel's eyes didn't follow her tight little bottom.

"She was flirting with you," Julie said to him.

"Didn't notice," Abel replied, looking at the menu.

Julie cleared her throat, "I don't get it. You are a good-looking man in your prime and the women ogle you wherever you go, but you don't seem to notice."

"I notice," he admitted. "I just don't care."

"All men care about that kind of thing," Julie challenged to him.  She waited for Abel to look up. Their eyes met and held, "I'm interested to hear what makes you so different."

"Julie, I have nothing left to prove to anyone, not even myself. Young women are for young men. Older men with younger women are trying to recapture their youth. If I have to pop a pill to be with a woman, then she is the wrong woman."

She sighed loudly as the waitress returned with their drink orders, ready to jot down on her pocket pad their dinner selections. Julie ordered the burger with a side salad. To her surprise, Abel ordered fries and nothing more. With the food selections made, Julie needed to change the story. She wanted to get deeper and have a real conversation with Abel.

"Listen," she said. "I really don't know what we are doing here, but I enjoy your company. However, before we can move forward, we need to talk."

"Fine, talk," Abel said. He had a few things he wanted to say as well because he was tired of making out.

"The curator at the museum, Amelie, she is not much younger than I am," Julie said. "I'm 39, granted I don't want any children, but my plans and the Almighty's might differ. What if...by chance...it happens?"

"It won't from me," Abel said, looking at her with intense blue eyes, "I can't have any more."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be. It is intentional," he said, watching her face. "After my wife divorced me and used Ralph as a meal ticket, I got snipped. Those were the worst years of my life, fighting with her to see my own son. I never wanted to go through that again, so I fixed it so I wouldn't have to deal with such issues."

"Abel that is horrible, on so many levels," she said to him. "Love isn't a once in a lifetime thing. People fall in love several times over the course of their lives and have more children."

"I didn't want more," he told her. "Okay, now we have that out of the way. You don't want any and I can't have any, what else do you wish to discuss?"

"Sex," she said.

Abel choked on his beer.

"I want to have it with you, but I dunno. You seem to stop each time things start to heat up," she said. "Is there a problem?"

"No," he said laughing. "Honestly, I was actually enjoying the old-fashioned courtship of a lady. Nowadays, these young people have an app, and they pick a sex partner like they are buying a pair of shoes. You like, swipe right--you don't like, swipe left."

"Abel, you sound like you know a great deal about it," she said, watching his expressions for subtle tells.

"When my son started college, I found myself very alone, so I downloaded the app and started swiping," he said. "I got swiped out after three of those dates."

He chuckled a bit at a memory.

"That memory looks good, please share," she said, as he blushed under her gaze, "Abel, we are friends first."

Giving in, he shook his head in refusal, but she encouraged him.

"Okay, I went out with a much younger woman, and at first, it seemed like a great deal of fun until we went back to her place," he said frowning. "I don't mean to brag, and I'm not, but she carried on so loud that I had to stop to make sure I wasn't hurting her."

Julie pressed her lips together.

"Please take into consideration, I can run ten miles and barely break a sweat. But, this young lady," he paused to shake his head, "it was like she'd mixed her Adderall with her diet pills. She bounced all over the place and finally, I'd had enough. I gave her one of my sleep tabs and told her it was Ecstasy just to make her ass go to sleep," he said frowning. "I know I am a horrible person for doing that, but I may be the only man who slipped a woman a Mickey to make her go to sleep, so he could get away."

Julie couldn't help herself. She busted up laughing.

"Did you ever call her again?"

"Hell no!" Abel grumbled. "That was too much. Any man who wants to do that all night needs to see a shrink. At my age, I appreciate quality over quantity."

She didn't respond to what he said, just watched the subtle expressive changes on his face. Abel's words were spilling all the endorphins he could muster about his needs, yet she hadn't voiced her own. Truthfully, she didn't know what she needed. Therefore, she was unable to explain what she wanted. Short term was easy. It was the long-term planning that made it difficult to open the discussion.

"Julie, are you an all-night partier?"

"No Abel, I am a love maker," she said to him, smiling as she blushed, "I am adventurous though."

"Be more specific," he said. "One of my swipes said she was adventurous and wanted to peg me."

She laughed again. "You are funny," she said.

"There is nothing funny about your date coming out the back room with a penis bigger than the one attached to my body. It was also hers...or his," he said with his face contorted, his eyes squinted as if trying to understand the reason why the Devil likes Hell to be so warm. "I still have nightmares about that shit."

He laughed a bit as he said, "I ran out of her front door in my drawers with my shoes in my hand, praying that no one saw me. 'Hey look, Abel Burney is in his skivvies running down the street.' I would have never lived it down."

The waitress returned with their food orders and they ate in silence. Abel couldn't take it anymore. He was beyond the making out portion. Yes, it was a refreshing change of pace, and he was an endurance runner, but he couldn't see the finish line. The man in him craved a big win with the woman seated cross the table.

"Where does this leave us, Julie?"

"At your place for the night," she replied without a moment of hesitation. "I brought my toothbrush."

****

DINNER TURNED TO DANCING as a live band kicked out a few country rock songs. Owen Tate came over to the table, and he spoke briefly for a few minutes before getting back to his customers. A different young lady kept her eyes on the tavern owner, watching every move he made.

"What's their story?" Julie asked Abel since he seemed to know everyone and almost everything about the locals.

"Don't know, truthfully," Abel answered, looking at the young woman, "Ivy Summers is new in town." With a quick glance in Owen's direction, Julie noticed the stoic, yet handsome proprietor welcomed many of the patrons by name.

"He isn't new, though is he?"

"No. Owen is a widower with a 4-year-old son. His wife died in an accident on Saratoga Springs Road a few years ago. That young lady," he said gesturing to Ivy, "he recently hired to help with the seasonal crowds."

Abel continued, "She's protective of him. But, I don't know if it's going to work out for her though. Owen isn't ready."

Julie stared at Ivy Summers. From behind the bar counter, the sienna-colored beauty watched her boss with a fiery intensity. When a woman looked at a man in "that" way, he didn't stand a chance. Ivy was going to wear Owen Tate down until he changed course and speed and gave her what she wanted.

Abel reached for Julie's hand, curling warm fingers around hers. She regarded their intertwined fingers like a long-lost puzzle piece. They fit together. Swallowing, she looked up, meeting his gaze. The heat in his eyes had sparks igniting every erogenous zone in her body.

"Are you ready, Julie?"

It was the way Abel asked the question that made her heart thud rapidly in her chest. Though she'd expected the question to come up at some point in their relationship, now that he asked it, she was as ready as she had ever been in her life. The realization that he wanted an answer as he stared at her face with longing in his eyes only heightened her desire for him. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned in.

"I am," she said biting her bottom lip. Now that she'd given him an answer, she pondered his next move. Seconds later, she knew the answer. Abel's hold on her fingers tightened.

"Check please," he said, raising his hand high in the air and waving his credit card.

"Put that away, I'm taking you to dinner," she said.

"Nope, because then you will expect me to put out," he said, scrunching his nose.

"You are going to put out anyway because I am giving you a skills assessment exam when we get to your house," she said.

Abel opened his wallet and began to pull out membership cards to unions, special interest groups, and the Engineering Society of America.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked him.

"It means that I am certified to handle any issue that you need handling my dear," he said, getting to his feet. The waitress was taking too long, and he had love to make. He handed Owen the bill on his way out the door. "Put it on my tab, run my card, get it to me tomorrow."

"Have a great night," Owen called after them.

The man practically dragged her down the stairs and shoved her into the passenger seat of her own car as he sped down the road like a bat out of hell. He wasn't going to give her a chance to change her mind. Tonight, there was love to be made.

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# Chapter 5 - Going the Distance

The aroma of coffee wafted through the air making Julie sit up in the bed like she'd been given a life-changing diagnosis of death. She needed to get up right away and follow the wonderful scent into the kitchen, where she would also find the wonderful man who prepared the life awakening brew. Abel Burney didn't lie to her - the man was indeed a skilled craftsman.

Meandering down the small hallway to the kitchen, she stumbled into the walls like a new credit card holder's arrival at major retailer having a discounted sale. Upon her arrival at the designation fueling station of liquid eye opener, she absently filled her cup, sipping, sighing and allowing the relief to wash over her. Savoring the delightfulness of the cup of freshly ground coffee, she opened her eyes and noticed Abel sitting at the table, watching her over the morning paper.

"You may need to seriously consider switching to decaf to lessen your dependency on morning coffee," he said, giving her a once over.

"That would imply my dear Abel, that you believe my relationship with coffee is symbiotic," she mumbled, "You speak as if I am unable to function without it."

"Julie, it would be a reasonable deduction indeed, unless you always enjoy your first cup in the nude," he said with a wry smile. "Granted, I am loving the morning view."

She looked down at herself, unashamed of her nudity in his presence. Especially considering the night before, he combed over her flesh as if he were remembering every lump, bump, and hump on her female form. A familiar tingle embraced her when she thought of their coupling. Heavy lidded eyes gazed upon him, saying more with no words than her foggy brain could manufacture while she extended his view as she brushed past him with her bare hip, giving him a nicer object to stare at when she walked away. If Abel chose to follow her back to the bedroom, it would be too early in the morning to tell such a handsome man no, let alone send him away without at least something to ponder over for the rest of the day.

"I will take that as an invitation," he said, leaving the paper on the table and following her to the bedroom.

If the freshly ground coffee were any indication, today was getting off to a wonderful start.

****

THE KNICKERBOCKER CANYON Trail Run encompassed a 35 km trot allotting the participants eight and a half hours to complete the course. Julie, having practiced riding the bike most of February and March, rode out to watch the racers complete the 1/2 Marathon and partial 5K and 10K races. She snapped photos of the runners' hard-hitting feet along with the long historic Western States Trail out to the No Hands Bridge. The shorter distance races coursed along the banks and trails of the American River. Julie rode as far as the base of the incline of K2 coming to edge of Dam Hill. She couldn't foresee how many of the runners fared in staying the course with the constant variances in surfaces, terrains, and altitudes.

Elsie Devonshire loved the articles and especially the close-up photos of the looks on the athletes' faces as they struggled through the physical endurance required to complete the races.

"What else is on the agenda for the remainder of the year?" Elsie asked.

"Let's see, in April, there are bunch of crazy people doing a 30-mile bike race nearly 2,000 miles above sea level," she said looking at the calendar, "followed by other crazy people riding a horse for 50 miles."

"That should be interesting," Elsie replied.

"Not nearly as fascinating as the 110-mile bike race in June or the nutty 100-mile race for the Tervis Cup, which is also on horseback," Julie added.

"If you do this the right way, you could be up for a Pulitzer," Elsie told her.

"Yeah, and later today, I am working on restoring my hymen," she said with sarcasm, "which too will never happen."

"Julie, it is important for you to focus on staying the course on this assignment. Getting distracted is easy," Elsie added. "You are on to something here. I can't wait to see the end results.

"You and me both. The last event ends in September, but I was thinking of staying to cover some of the other special activities they hold here in the fall," she said.

"The house is paid for through the end of the year," Elsie said.

"Thanks, Elsie, I won't let you down," Julie said before ending the call. In her heart, she knew she wouldn't let the magazine down, but she also wasn't so sure about how she felt about Abel and saying farewell to him at the end of the year. She scolded herself for letting him get so close so fast. It was only March. There were still nine months to go. She wasn't sure she was going to make it without coming out scarred, marred, or her heart being charred.

****

THE MONTH OF MAY BREEZED in and Julie only had a rough sketch of an outline for three possible book tropes: a Cyrano, a friend to lover's plot, and a potential fake engagement. Frustration covered her as she rode her bike over to UC Endurance to look for a class or a workshop to help her get her act together. She walked into the registrar's office overwhelmed by all the technological steps required to sign up for a class as a non-degree seeking student.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," she said, staring at the computer screen. Clicking the mouse, she created a username and password. Placing her glasses on the tip of her nose, Julie thumbed through the course offerings. The English class she though she needed and wanted soon was replaced by a history course taught by one Rui Conners on Asian Civilizations in Modern Times. She clicked the link.

"Oh, are you thinking about taking Professor Conners' course?" the pretty young black girl asked.

"I think so," Julie replied looking at her, "is he a tough professor?"

"He's not one of my instructors, but I've heard he is really good with his students," she said.

Julie thought she heard a hint of interest the woman's voice. She laid her pen on the table, shifting her body in the seat. The young lady had her full attention.

"Is that right?" She let a note of curiosity enter her tone. At her 'tell me more' look, a shy smile crossed the other woman's face.

"Anyway," she replied changing the subject. "I'm Autumn Raine, a music therapy major here at the university." She extended a hand in greeting. "Julie, right? I've heard about you around town."

"Pleasure to meet you, I am Julie Kraztner," she said with a firm shake of their hands. Admittedly, Julie had never met a music therapist, but it sounded like a fascinating course of study. "Forgive me for being nervous, but it has been a while since I've been in the classroom."

"You know what?' Autumn said, "I think Rui has office hours today. I am headed that way. Come on, I will point you in the right direction."

"No, I don't want to be any trouble," Julie said.

"It won't be," Autumn said, leading the way.

The Humanities building was only across the quad as they walked up the two flights of stairs to the history wing. Professor Connors was an attractive man with Asian features and a goatee that gave him a certain finesse. Attractive, yet aloof.

Introductions made, it didn't escape Julie's notice that Rui Conners held Autumn's hand longer than necessary. The little music major had been correct about the professor. He took his time explaining the course load, expectations, and the end of class project. It sounded fascinating to Julie, but she was more interested in the spark between the student and the teacher. A forbidden affair. A flash of information shared with her by Abel popped into her head: Endurance is the single dad capital of California. Is the Professor a single dad, too?

"Professor, this sounds like it is going to be a great class," Julie said, shaking his hand. "I will work on my enrollment and will see you in class." A perfect book title popped into her head.

A Forbidden Affair: Professor J and Sword of Destiny

Julie laughed as she rode her bike towards the center of town, stopping at The Cupcakery for a key lime cupcake and a few Snickerdoodles for Abel. He was coming over later that night and said he wanted to talk. Almost seven months were left on her contract in Endurance. However, the new concern was if she could leave the man she'd fallen in love with, Abel Burney.

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# Chapter 6 - A Walk Through Endurance

Abel sat in the driveway of the old cottage he and his son had once called home. Lately, he'd been staying here so often, it was beginning to feel that way again. He also started to feel another way again as well - Abel felt the start of love. It wasn't necessarily the start of love since he was waist deep and ass high in processing the steady stream of emotions generated by the little wisp of a woman that had wrapped him around her finger without barely trying. The beauty of the relationship hinged on Julie's lack of requirements from him. No demands. No mandates. She just wanted to exist in the same time and space, sharing the moments with him.

He loved that about her.

She'd backed off on the coffee consumption in the past five months, drinking more green teas, exercising, and reducing the amount of red meat she ate. He never considered himself to be a health freak but living in a town focused on physical fitness did require a few adjustments. Julie had adjusted well, even signing up for a class at the University. He tooted the horn when she rode up the drive on the bike he left at the house for renters. He was glad that she was making good use of it.

"Hey Abel, ready to raise some cane?" She asked with a wink.

"I was hoping we could talk," Abel said, exiting the expensive luxury sedan he loved to drive.

"Come on in. I have a roast in the oven, and I'll make us some lemonade," she told him, parking the bike on the porch.

Abel took a seat on the old couch that had become Julie's favorite place to take a nap. On occasion, he would join her on the couch on lazy Sunday afternoons as he read and she dozed. It was a comfortable friendship, or relationship, that had blossomed into what he felt had become meaningful, at least to him.

"Julie, I think, and please hear me out," he began to say, holding the tips of her fingers into his hand, "we go back and forth from this cottage to my home. I would like us to reside in one place under one roof."

"Abel, that's sweet, but the company paid for this house for a year," she told him. "Plus, I like my independence."

"I love our independence as well, but I like waking up with you even more," he said, sliding off the couch to one knee.

"What are you doing?" She asked with her eyes wide.

"Trying to propose," he told her and reached into his pocket.

"Propose?" she repeated, narrowing her eyes. "You are asking me to marry you?'

"Well, I am trying."

"I don't know what to say," she said, pulling her hand away and clutching at the imaginary pearls she wasn't wearing.

"Say yes," he told her. "Julie, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life waking up next to you and seeing you stumble through the kitchen in the morning searching for hot coffee to drink, butt naked and confused. I love our Sunday afternoons, our Friday nights, and our Wednesday walks through Endurance. Marry me. Make me whole again."

Julie gulped. Marriage. To Abel. She'd never considered marriage before, let alone settling down. Her life consisted of airplane rides, interviews, and challenging herself to learn new things. Until now, she hadn't realized that she was tired of all the traveling. This assignment had not been what she expected, and quite honestly, one that she had dreaded with every fiber of her being. But since arriving in Endurance, a new calm had entered the life she led. A nice calm. A reduced caffeine free calm sated in a bowl of happiness. A happiness that radiated through every solitary word she wrote on her screen and strung together to make beautiful sentences. Love got her to this point, and Abel was the band leader to a new group of notes that challenged the out of date tunes that used to play in her head.

Mentally, Julie was the sharpest than she'd been in years. Physically, she was more fit. Her diet had greatly improved, and true happiness had finally arrived in her life. More importantly, waking up next to Abel was fantastic. Her lips moved, giving him the correct answer, he sought.

"Yes, Abel... I will marry you," she told him.

He sprang to his feet embracing her and showered her face with kisses. He loved his Julie. Happiness had come to him at last, and he had someone to share his life. The moment his hand touched hers on the plane, he knew a connection was shared between them. The smiles were often and the love strong. More importantly, he could have a conversation with her on matters from the mundane to the ethereal. She was his partner, his friend, his lover. Abel was old enough to realize the shortfalls in life but young enough at heart to still take chances.

Julie took a chance with him, and he was prepared and ready to take every risk needed for a long term of happiness. Over pot roast and seasoned potatoes, they planned a life together. The wedding would be small with her brother giving her away. Her mother would come to town and her few friends would comprise the wedding party. An autumn wedding was what she wanted.

An autumn wedding is what the lady would get.

****

"COME ON MRS. BURNEY," Abel called to her from the large front porch of their home nestled behind the First Presbyterian Church.

"Stop rushing me husband," she said, putting on her walking shoes. It was Saturday afternoon and a lovely day for a stroll through the town square.

Hand in hand, they left the house with the camera hanging about her neck. Riders were in town as well as horsemen preparing for the Fall Race. Elsie Devonshire had given her a permanent assignment in Endurance to cover the annual events in the town. Each year would have a different feel and each race a different winner. It was her job to cover them all.

In between writing for Sports Complicated, she also created fresh content on festivals in the area reaching out into Sacramento and as far as the San Francisco Bay. She loved her job and her life with a man who held her hand months ago on a bumpy plane ride to cover events she had no interest in - today, she was high on the list of journalists and listed amongst the other residents as local experts. She was far from an expert but always asked great questions which yielded great interviews that in turn, produced great human-interest stories.

Endurance was her new home. She loved the town, the people and all the quirks of living here. More importantly, she loved the weekly walks through the town.

Down the hill they walked, stopping into The Cupcakery for a cookie and cupcake, saying hello to Dr. Winter and Sherron Baker, the stuttering baker. In the corner sat Ivy Summers, the new helper at No Limit Bar and Grille, owned by Owen Tate. They passed by the Endurance Museum, waving to Amelie Bishop and Jose Primavera as they worked on the Aztec exhibit stands. On the second floor in the library, Professor Rui Conners sat with his daughter Simone in the children's section. In a cubicle close by, she noticed, Autumn Raine sporting a pair of headphones as she stole glances at Rui with a warm smile on her face.

"Hey Abel, hiya Julie," was the normal greeting they received when people saw them together either riding their bikes or strolling through town. Julie wasn't quite ready to learn how to play golf, much to Abel's dismay. He really wanted to target women golfers and possibly hold a golf tournament in the next few years. It would be a feather in his cap to have his wife as part of the spearheading team.

However, that would be later. His mind was on the present. A new movie was on the agenda for the evening, and Julie loved a good romantic comedy. He wanted to see a movie where things were blown up, but much like life, marriage was loaded with compromises. Julie selected a movie from the shelf with two happy faced people and a dog. He knew it was going to be the movie she selected. Abel frowned, not bothering to hide his distaste at her selection, but it was her night to choose.

"Abel, maybe we can make a compromise," Julie offered, putting the movie down and selecting another one equally as sappy.

"This horrible movie is going to be a compromise," he whispered in her ear as he swiped his library card.

Julie loved when Abel whispered in her ear. It sent shivers down her spine and reminded her of the gifted, skilled, highly trained and motivated endurance runner. She'd learn to enjoy the intervals of love they often took on lazy days to enjoy their intimate moments. When she didn't have the energy to keep pace with him, his subtle art of persistence always paid off in the end with Julie managing to stay the course while going the distance with her handsome, silver fox.

"You are going to love this movie just as much as you love me," she said, giving him a light squeeze.

"I don't think that is possible," he said, kissing her on the temple.

Abel and Julie checked out a movie for Saturday night viewing in the privacy of their home, plus a few books to read before they headed back to the house. These days, regardless of the weather, she loved getting out with her husband and taking a weekly walk through Endurance.

- Fin -

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# Intervals of Love

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# Chapter One - The Warm Up

The old mail truck squeaked, rattled, and backfired coming up the small incline as it turned onto Dodger Lane, stopping incrementally to drop off bills and more bad news. Willie Barnes, the local postal carrier was proud of the old truck that somehow managed to still crank day after day, year after year as the old driver made his rounds. Chadwick Winter knew his routine as well as the frequent stops he made to pick up coffee, a donut and to shoot the fat off the old duck while he made his rounds. Willie seemed to have impeccable timing, knowing exactly how many minutes to be at each location since it never failed that at 8:15 each day, he stopped in front of the Winter home to leave the daily mail. Even on Mondays, Willie was always on time. Today, was the day Chadwick wished he'd been late.

"Morning Dr. Winter," Willie said, parking the old rattrap to walk up the drive, "I have a certified letter for you today."

Coffee in hand, he stood on the front porch waiting for the package that he knew was coming today. There was no need to hide from the ugliness Willie was delivering. The package brought forth the delivery of the close of one life and hopefully the start of a new one.

"Morning Mr. Barnes," Chadwick replied, accepting the package and signing the slip of paper.

"Certified letters are usually bad news, but it is such a glorious day to be alive, I hope you take what's in it as a sign of rebirth," Willie told him.

Great. Just what I need. A philosophizing mailman.

"From your mouth to God's ears, Willie."

"Have a good day," Willie said whistling as he walked away.

That was Chadwick's life in a nutshell. People walked up, handed him a warm pile a poop and walked away whistling as if they hadn't simply ruined his life. Here Chadwick, take this shit and be happy. I'm not happy.

Envelope in hand, he entered his three-bedroom home to start a pot of oatmeal for his two-year-old James, who would be awake soon and terrorizing the world. The child had loads of energy and only stopped whirling when he exhausted the dervish and passed out in the middle of the floor with his pull-up stuck in the air. He didn't care if he was a pediatrician - the terrible twos were a marketing term. James was a mini bioterrorist. A whirling ball of energy that passed out nasty kisses laced with viruses and other spores of which his father seemingly had failed to build up an immunity.

"Daddy!" The child called from the other room just as Chadwick set the water to boil. Adding two cups of oats to the buttery water, a tablespoon of brown sugar and a dash of salt, the morning gruel would be ready by the time he changed and washed James' face.

"Coming son," he called back, heading down the hall to his room.

Chadwick opened the curtain allowing the rays of sunshine as the adorable little boy stood in his bed, holding onto the wooden rails as if he'd been imprisoned for the night and the warden was coming to set him free. His little feet danced in anticipation at seeing his father as hands rose to be lifted from his cage so he could hit the floor and get moving.

"Good morning James," Chadwick said, lifting the child from the infant bed, "today is going to be an amazing day."

"Hi Daddy," the infant said. His language skills were developing slowly but Chadwick wasn't worried. The new daycare that James attended was one of the best in Endurance. Heck, there were only three in town, but in his estimation, Toddle Time was the better of the three. All of the children who attended the school were also his patients and right on track in learning and development. He felt blessed that the owner reached out to him holding a spot for James.

In his pocket were a handful of Cheerios that he placed in James' potty as he placed the child's feet on the floor, pulling down his night time diaper. He'd trained the boy to sink the cereal with well-aimed shots of urine. The game was the easiest method he knew to teach a boy to use the toilet. James did not disappoint as he clapped happily at accomplishing the morning task, reaching for his father with pee-pee hands to be washed.

"Great job little man," Chadwick said, placing an affectionate kiss on the top of his head. "It's time for oatmeal."

"Yay, and yoosh," James said.

"Yes, you can have some juice as well," he said, drying his hands and carrying him to his high chair. Seated, wearing a bib, the child had a ravenous appetite that when he wasn't tearing up everything in sight, he was shoveling something in his little pie hole.

Chadwick spooned in a hearty serving of oatmeal into the bowl, warning James that it was hot, as he made a slice of toast with strawberry jam. He handed him the toast first as the oatmeal cooled. His bowl, he set to the side as he opened the package in which he'd been dreading. It was from Turner & Hobbs, Attorneys at Law.

As if James knew what was inside the envelope, he remained quiet, observing his father while munching on his toast. The white sheets slid out of the package as Chadwick read over the words declaring his divorce final, and Bria Cayes out of his and James' lives. It was good riddance as far as he was concerned. Any woman who would leave her infant child wasn't a woman that he wanted nor needed in his life. James sure as hell didn't deserve her for a mother.

"Wuv you, Daddy," James said as if he knew the words would bring his father comfort.

"I love you more, James," he said, handing him the bowl of oats, "make sure you blow before you put it in your mouth."

He nodded his head as he scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal, blowing more saliva than anything on the spoon, ladling a load of mush into the small pie hole.

My divorce is final. I am free of her.

****

"THIS JUST ISN'T WORKING for me Chad, for us," Bria Cayes said one cold December morning. "I hate this town, these people and the smell of sweat from damp bodies running around trying to make their hearts burst out of their chests. I have to get out of here."

"Bria, I can't just move my practice," he implored to her holding her hands, "It took me years to build up this sort of clientele. I have a rapport with the parents, the community, and the children."

"Seems to me you would be more concerned about the rapport you have with me," she said handing him the infant.

"I am Bria, but leaving isn't going to solve what is wrong with you, or us for that matter. If we move, we are only taking the problems with us," he said. "We need to seek some counseling to help us."

"You mean me," she spat at him. "This is not just post-partum depression, Chad. It is something deeper."

"Understood," he told her, placing James over his shoulder to burp the baby, "however, we have to address the elephant in the room before we can give it more peanuts."

"Screw you and the elephant. I don't want to live here anymore," she said. "I also don't think I want to be married any longer or be a mom."

"What?"

"You heard me," she said, picking up her purse and keys. "This is not my life. I long for the big city, fancy parties and a social life. Bake sales is not a social life."

"I'm truly sorry you feel that way, but my life is here," he said.

"You can stay here," she told him, heading out the front door.

He couldn't believe she left. Bria Cayes Winter walked out the front door on that cold December morning and didn't return for two weeks. After the first three days, he stopped worrying. When five days passed he called his mother to come lend a hand. When the five days morphed into two weeks, his mother, who had been ridiculously quiet during the whole ordeal spoke up.

"In another week you can file for divorce on the grounds of abandonment, seeking sole custody of James," Jasmine Winter told him.

"Mom, I think she just needs some time to deal with the postpartum," he told her.

"Bullpies," Jasmine said to her son, "the heffah needs some therapy and an unselfish pill. How could she leave this adorable little boy alone without his Momma?"

"She also left me," Chadwick said softly.

"Yep, which is why you should file for divorce and move on with your life," Jasmine offered. "Pack up her things, put them in a box in the closet, and prepare to move on. When she returns, you can have all her things ready to go. You have no room in your life for a woman who walks out on her child."

"I'm going to give her some time," Chadwick said, "it is only fair."

"Fair is moving on and finding this baby a new Mama," Jasmine said. "The one he has is broken. Right now he doesn't understand. By the time he is three, he is going to want to know why all the other kids are being picked up from school by their Mommies and he isn't."

"Mom, I also need some time to process all of this," he said softly.

"There is nothing to process. Your crazy wife left you and this baby so she can post pictures of herself on Instagram with plastic people living shallow lives," Jasmine countered.

"She isn't shallow," Chadwick said.

"That saucer has more depth than that woman," she said, lifting her tea cup to better show off the delicate saucer. "Bria snatched you up in college so she could say she was married to a Doctor. This town paid half of the tuition for you to go to medical school and you owe it a debt."

"I know my commitment to Endurance," he said to his mother. "I have no intention of leaving. This is my home as well as where I want to raise James."

"Good, we need to get to planning," Jasmine said, picking up her phone to call her better half. "Cole and I will set the wheels in motion for the attorney, get the paperwork started. Your father has been expecting this day for a while."

"Mom, she is coming back," Chadwick said.

"Yes, she is," she said as the phone begin to ring on the other end, "She is coming back for her crap, that I am going to box up today. Hell, I may even box it up and ship it to her parent's house."

"Mom, come on, really?"

"Really! You need to show this woman you are not some pushover to be trifled with and if she wants to be free, let's give her a hand," Jasmine said, turning her attention to the phone speaking to Chadwick's father, Cole Winter. "Hey Baby, it's me. No, she didn't come back. Call the attorney and I am packing up her stuff and shipping it to her folks in Sacramento. It is the best thing for them both. Yes, I love you too. I will be home soon."

Jasmine's next call was to Miriam Welsh at Toddle Time Day Care. James was six months old and ready for childcare and his father to get back to work. He needed to work to get his mind off Bria.

"Get James dressed and over to Toddle Time. I am going over to Ma Hildie's for some boxes. Hopefully, I can get my hands on the ones that had broccoli in them so when I ship her underwear, they arrive smelling like sour broccoli bits."

He didn't want to laugh but it was the first time he smiled in two weeks. "Ask Ma Hildie for one of the boxes the fish came in - we will put her underclothes in that one," he said grinning.

His mother was right. James didn't deserve a woman like Bria for a mother. He also didn't deserve a woman who recoiled at his touch.

He took James to Toddle Time returning shortly after with the smelliest boxes he could scrounge up at Ma Hildie's and loaded in Bria's expensive clothing. The shoes he donated to the local consignment shop as the start of James' college fund. With pride he took the boxes to the post office shipping them the Cayes home in Land Park. The payment for the shipping felt cathartic as he watched the boxes disappear behind the wall.

Three days later they arrived in Sacramento, according to the tracking slip in his hand. He watched the screen on the computer monitor which confirmed the boxes had arrived. Chadwick didn't know what to expect, but a call from Ernest Cayes was the last thing on his list of possibilities after the boxes arrived.

"Chadwick, Ernest Cayes here," the man said into the line.

"Dr. Cayes, how are you?" He replied.

"Been better son," he said pausing, listening for a word from his son-in-law but reviving none, "the boxes arrived."

"Glad to hear it," Chadwick said.

"Don't be too angry at her," Ernest said.

"Actually, I'm not, but James doesn't deserve a mother who walked out on him," Chadwick replied.

"I called in hopes that you won't see a need to punish us for her behavior," Ernest said.

The words hit him hard in the chest. Bria's decision didn't just impact him and James but also her parents. He would be fair. Cole Winter had taught him to always be fair in his decisions and judgements with others, giving the benefit of the doubt and showing empathy to his patients. He'd taken over his father's practice in Endurance when he retired and had grown the business three-fold. Chadwick had done it with time, patience and understanding of the needs of the community. In return, they embraced him and helped him through the most difficult time of his life. Empathy was all he had left since anger and a boat load of pissed-offness couldn't be his only friend.

"Dr. Cayes, I would never deny James time with his grandparents. He is your grandson and you are always welcome in my home to spend time with him," Chadwick said.

"Will you let us spend time with him in our home?"

"Right now, he is too young," Chadwick said. "We are making a transition and I have to learn how to be a single father, you know, make us a life."

"I understand," Ernest said, emotion choking up his words. "Lana and I love him and wants what's best."

"Again, my door is always open to you, but call first to schedule a time," he said clicking off the line.

That was two years ago. He had not seen Bria in over two years. She didn't even bother to show up to court.

"Enjoy your freedom," he muttered as he dropped the papers on the table, picking up his son to get him ready to head over to Toddle Time. His schedule too was full today.

The phone rang. The theme from the Lone Ranger began to plan and he shuddered. It was his mother's ring tone. She'd set it in his phone the day she left him and James alone in the house to fend for themselves through the muck of Bria's aftermath.

Reluctantly, he answered the call. "Morning Mom," he said, making a small tub of warm soapy water to clean up his son.

"Chadwick, it is time to start dating," she started the conversation.

"It is good to hear your voice as well," he said.

"No seriously," she said. "Your twenty-year reunion is later this year and you will not enter those doors as a single parent. You need to get remarried or at least engaged."

"You need to get off my phone and go feed the Munchkins or meet with the Lollipop Guild or something," he said to her.

"Aren't you funny so early in the dang morning," Jasmine said. "Seriously, though, son, it is time for you to starting getting."

"It's time for me to get dressed, get James to daycare and get to my office," he replied. "Have a great day Mom, loads of love to Dad."

He hung up on her. The sound of the music announcing her call was like an omen. She was going to pop up with a wild hair up her nose or worse with a plan she hatched up after waking up from a dream where three fairies came to her and predicted his future.

"I need a cupcake," he mumbled as he prepared James and himself for their day.

<<Fin>>

Pre-order Here From your favorite online retailer.

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# About Olivia Gaines

 As a multiple award-winning, best-selling Amazon author, Olivia loves a good laugh coupled with some steam, mixed in with a man and woman finding their way past the words of "I love you." An author of contemporary romances, she writes heartwarming stories of blossoming relationships about couples not only falling in love but building a life after the hot sex scene. When Olivia is not writing, she enjoys quilting, playing Scrabble online against other word lovers and spending time with her family. She is an avid world traveler who writes many of the locations into her stories. Most of the time she can be found sitting quietly with pen and paper plotting more adventures in love.

Olivia lives in Hephzibah, Georgia with her husband, son, grandson and snotty evil cat, Katness Evermean.

Learn more about her books, upcoming releases and join her bibliophile nation at www.ogaines.com

Subscribe to her email list at <http://eepurl.com/OulYf>

Facebook: <https://www.facebook.com/olivia.gaines.31>

Twitter: https://twitter.com/oliviagaines

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/gaines.olivia/

Also by Siera London

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THE BACHELORS OF SHELL Cove Series

  * Chasing Ava
  * Convincing Lina
  * Catching Rebecca
  * Claiming Janna
  * A Doctor for Christmas

The Fiery Fairy Tales Series

  * Chasing Flames
  * Concealing Fire
  * Commanding Heat

The Forbidden Series

  * Forbidden Distraction 
  * Forbidden Attraction

ABOUT THIS BOOK

Ivy Summers' poor choices have deposited her at the last knot in the proverbial rope. With forty dollars to her name and a broken shoe heel, she walks into the town of Endurance desperate and searching for a way back home. But this street-savvy lady is used to taking care of herself and fighting for everything she has. She'll do what's necessary to survive--even take on a grumpy mountain man in the middle of the night.

Single father, Owen Tate wants to be left alone, especially by the sexy trespasser who demands entry into his bar. She has a truckload of attitude, a penchant for manipulation, and a ton of baggage trailing behind her. Yet Ivy's zeal for life might be the kick in the pants a wounded man needs to bury the past.

How will two people used to staying the course change direction and learn to fight for each other?

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# Staying the Course

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# CHAPTER 1

The exclamation point at the end of Ivy Summers' streak of bad luck came three hours before midnight on a deserted stretch of California's Highway 80. As another gust of crisp wind plastered her shirt against her chest. Fingers stiff from the cold, she barely managed to hold onto her tattered backpack and gather the edges of her peeling second-hand leather jacket together before another punishing blast slammed into her. Where was all this chill factor when the scorching June heat had melted the glob of school glue holding the heel of her combat boot in place? Though she'd been doing the stinky leg walk for miles, and her right calf ached from the uneven gait, the shoe fix took a back seat to her empty belly.

In the immediate future, she needed food, a crackling fire to drive the chill from her bones, and a quiet place to lay her head. Well, she could sleep on a theme park roller coaster at this point. When morning came, the first order of business would be a job, one that asked a short list of personal background questions and paid in long green cash. She'd stick around a few days to earn enough money to keep it moving east... back to Shell Cove, Florida.

With every step Ivy fought the urge to collapse under the weight of yet another bad decision. Following Johnny to California had been a mistake. Running from his brother, Poe had been a calculated risk.

"Stay the course," she whispered. The mantra was a remnant of her time at the Second Chance women's shelter back in Shell Cove. "You can do it."

The warm light of civilization came into view, and Ivy breathed out a sigh of relief. She limped into the town of Endurance, California, population 1,333 per the marquee, hungry, tired, and cold. That late-night interstate stroll had been at least four miles. Yet, she'd netted a big fat zero on the relief scale; zero all-night diners, zero truck stops, zero convenience stores, and zero motels. Either she'd stepped into the twilight zone, or the township had endured in the land that time forgot.

Ivy took a right off of Miramar Boulevard passing a fancy museum that housed the public library. At the town's center, a very regal looking City Hall building with a marble portico and an intricate pediment sat next to the sheriff's office, and then she came to a crossroads. How appropriate. She was at a crossroads with a lot of things in her life. She had a choice to make. Either she could go straight ahead onto Saratoga Springs or venture a little farther off the straight and narrow and take Miller Road. Would her destination hold more closed doors and dead ends?

From the intersection, the end of Saratoga Springs Road stared back at her. All of sudden, a sedan zoomed by, kicking up a cloud of road dust and pebbles.

"Hey," she railed, shielding her face with both hands, as she jumped out of the way. "Watch out, nut tart," she shouted to the vehicle's twin red lights. Coughing, she waved away the suffocating dirt swirl as the car disappeared from sight. Not wanting another close encounter of that kind, she decided.

"Alrighty then, Miller Road it is."

There was Bee-Bee's bookstore. The quaint teal-colored stucco building had a neon sign shaped like a nineteen fifties coffee cup resting on a saucer. This was definitely a throwback town. Everyone knew coffee came in sixteen ounce tall cups. The street was locked down tighter than a pill bottle in a nursing home. She wondered if this bargain bend Smallville even had a hotel, motel, or an Endurance Town Inn.

Prepared to give up and turn back, Ivy warmed when she saw the faint red glow coming from the far end of the street. Dragging her sore limbs forward, she approached the place with caution. There were velvet curtains at the two giant windows, the kind you might see at a fine restaurant known for patron privacy. The sign overhead the building read No Limit Bar and Grille. Looking back over her shoulder at the darkened street, she smirked. The town of Endurance definitely had a limit that probably didn't welcome wanderers like her. Ivy reached for the door handle and gave it a firm tug.

Nothing happened.

Giving it more muscle, Ivy gripped the faded wood, curling the fingers of both hands around the lever and yanked. On uneven heels, the added force and momentum had her wobbling on exhausted legs.

Still nothing.

Ivy felt the tears swell in her eyes. Don't cry. But, a familiar burn started in her nostrils, and then she felt the traitorous things flare in frustration. Dang it, she was going to cry. All of a sudden, the door flew open. Before she knew it, her body was in motion, flying backwards, and her behind hit the cobblestone road−hard.

"Crap," she grumbled, followed by a few choice swear words as she sat on the ground, contemplating her misfortune. It seemed she had an invisible bad luck symbol etched on her forehead.

A guy, all blonde haired with steel blue eyes glared down at her, his height imposing from this position. She tried to stop her eyes from taking a walk up his impressive form. Cowboy boots, dark with age covered his large feet. Denim jeans, not too tight, not too loose, clung to legs defined with muscle. His thighs looked like he could support her weight for hours and not tire. A plaid shirt, buttoned up the front, but did little to conceal his broad shoulders and sculpted abdomen. Yep, those pecs could be in one of those Sleep-Right commercials. Every woman she knew would claw her best friend's eyes out to have a chest like his cradling her head.

"We're closed," he growled, face locked in a stony expression.

She waited for him to extend a hand to help her up. After all, it had been his fault that she fell.

She waited some more. Okayyy, nothing. Rubbing her hands together to rid them of the ground debris, she winced as loose gravel scraped across abraded palms. She looked up at old blue eyes.

"Your sign says you're open," she said removing her backpack.

He gave the sign a cursory glance, and then frowned. "I'm not." He bobbed his chin in her direction. "You're trespassing."

Unless there was a new ordinance expanding the law to include sitting on your butt in a public street, he was wrong. Ivy came to her feet, no thanks to him. Looking up, she craned her neck. Whoa, he was tall, and kind of cute in a small-town Scrooge way.

"Then you should turn the lights off," she said with a scowl.

He gave her a twisted smirk. "You from the bank?"

She reared back, staring up at him in confusion. Dressed in her best pair of ripped jeans, a University of California sweatshirt she'd grabbed off a Goodwill clearance rack in Imperial Beach, there was nothing business-like about her. Why, in her current state of dress, he would think she was from the bank confused her even more.

"Nope," she told him, adding a bit of sass to her tone.

He grinned, bearing his teeth. Scary, but going without Maslow's hierarchy of needs frightened her more.

"Then, don't tell me what to do, lady."

Her stomach growled, and he narrowed his eyes on her. When it screamed out loud again, the blue-eyed grumpy-pants stepped onto the sidewalk peering down at her. He looked up the street, examining the dark shadows, where she'd come from.

"Where's your car?"

Her eyes widened in surprise at his question. This morning, she'd hitched a ride outside of a San Diego rest area with an overweight trucker named Ralph headed to San Francisco with a trailer load of garlic bulbs. Eight hours into the trip he confessed to never having slept with a woman of her persuasion. He spewed some non-sense about her reminding him a lovely black unicorn, and then proceeded to grope her with his sausage fingers. When the hell had Ralph the Trucker ever seen a unicorn? Maybe, the pervert had puffed some of Cali's medical marijuana. Either way, Ivy had screamed for him to stop the rig, giving little attention to the where and when as she exited the semi-truck.

"What," she managed to stammer.

"Where," he drawled, his voice deliciously deep with masculine base, "is your car?"

She looked around. Nervous energy started to bubble in her gut. Okay, she was alone, in some one-traffic light town, with a suddenly angry bar owner towering over her. Maybe she should have tested her luck back in the truck with the last black unicorn hunter.

"I walked," she confessed, acutely aware of her vulnerable circumstance.

He kept his eyes on her. "The five miles from the highway?"

He practically growled the words. And nowww, Ivy was officially scared.

She lifted her chin, speaking with more confidence than she felt. "Walking doesn't hurt anybody."

He stared at her. And on a stack of hotel bibles, she would have sworn she saw fire roar in his eyes.

"At night it can," he snapped, but a cord of sadness hung on each word.

A mountain of pain erupted in those telling eyes, but then it vanished. Something much harder and menacing replaced it. Okay, time to put some distance between her and blue-eyed hell boy.

"Look," she said, slowly inching back. "I was looking for some food. I saw the sign but--I'm really sorry I disturbed you, sir."

As she talked, Ivy inched farther away, putting distance between his body and hers in case she needed to pull a 'don't-go-into-the-woods scream' and run-down Miller Road. Then the oddest thing happened.

He smiled. "I'm sir now?"

The smile, the eyes, the body all worked for her. He truly was a handsome grumpy pants.

"I'll call you whatever you want," she swallowed. Psycho alert, she thought.

Ivy gazed at the darkening street ahead. She could make a break for it. With a hint of luck, she might make it back to the highway. Just then, a child appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with small balled up fist.

"Daddy, what's taking you so long? I'm ready for my bedtime story."

A little boy with straw-colored hair, lighter than his father's, pushed a half-hidden torso from behind one of those long legs. He wore an Ironman sleep romper that covered his feet and zipped up to his neck. It looked like there was a cape or something behind him, but in the low light it was hard for Ivy to tell.

"Go back inside, Cai," he told the child.

At least, the kid was interested in books, rather than video games. It was the first indication that the man was human after all.

"Who are you talking to?" the child demanded.

She couldn't hide the shock on her face. Mr. Grumpy Pants had produced a little demanding version of himself.

"Nobody," he said in his firm father's voice.

Ivy gritted her teeth. Now, why did he have to go say a thing as bone-headed as that? It almost hurt her feelings that he equated her presence to a non-entity. She had been discounted most of her life. No way would she permit this stranger to deem her invisible.

The same blue eyes as his father's regarded her, and she thought she heard Mr. Grumpy Pants say the boy's name was Kyle. The little sleepy head reached for his father's giant hand.

The child asked, "Who's that lady?"

"Cai, I said--," the man interjected.

Ivy interrupted. She could feel his eyes on her, intense and scrutinizing. Looking at Cai, she ignored the father. True, it was beneath her to use a child to save her own hide, but her belly and body had reached their limit.

"Hello Cai. My name is Ivy Summers."

He laughed. "That's a pretty name." He shook his daddy's hand, capturing his attention. "Isn't her name pretty, daddy?"

Grumpy Pant's frown deepened. "It's alright."

She scowled back. She didn't know what his problem was and she didn't care. She needed food. That's when she felt strong fingers grip her elbow. Ivy squeezed her eyes shut prepared for a crushing pain. Instead, warmth, tingling, and an, 'oh so delicious' sensation wound its way up her arms. His fingers contracted where they touched, and then relaxed. Had he felt it, too?

"Come inside, Ivy. I'll feed you," he said in that deep sexy tone.

That voice was already feeding something wicked inside of her. A lingering hunger she'd neglected to feed for long while. She'd have to make sure to keep quiet over whatever meal he put in front of her. The last thing Ivy needed was his voice distracting her from a full belly.

"Are you sure your wife will be okay with me grabbing a quick bite before moving on?"

When he didn't answer. She looked up to find him watching her again. His eyes were doing that dancing fire thing once more as he took her all in.

"She's not here," he said, his voice dropping low and flat.

Ivy pulled up short. Married men were a hard limit for her. She wasn't looking for any trouble, yet the way his eyes drank in her features, before settling on her mouth she got the impression that food was the last thing on his mind.

<<<<FIN>>>>

Pre-Order Staying The Course at any online retailer

About Siera London

SIERA LONDON IS A BESTSELLING author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense. She crafts stories of diverse characters navigating the challenges and triumphs to find lasting love. Intelligence, wit, emotion, drama, and sensual romance are between the covers of every Siera London novel.

Siera lives in California with her husband, and a color patch tabby named Frie.

Learn more about her books, upcoming releases and join her Londonaire Lounge at https://www.sieralondon.com

Subscribe to her email list at <https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/i2s4f9>

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Visit my Siera London website: <https://www.sieralondon.com>

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# The Men of Endurance Series

Coming in July

