Read an Excerpt
Chapter One
He'd won.
She'd lost.
She really, really hated losing. Losing pissed her off more than just about anything else.
The very idea made her grind her teeth, made her think twice about what she was about to do, which essentially was to throw in the towel. Okay, not exactly throw in the towel, but she was definitely retrenching, and she needed to act now. Stubbornness was one of her main faults, something she was well aware of, so before it could trip her up and make her change her mind, Angie Powell quickly scrawled her name on the contract with the only Realtor in the area, Harlan Forbes, then leaned back in her chair and tried to control her breathing.
There, it was done. Her place was officially up for sale. Her stomach was so knotted she felt as if she'd stepped off a cliff and was cartwheeling toward the ground, but there was no going back. Well, there probably was; Harlan had known her most of her life, and would probably tear up the contract right now if she asked him to. Not only that, the contract wasn't open- ended. If her home didn't sell in the allotted time, she'd either extend the contract or . . . what? What other option did she have? None, that's what. This was do or die, sink or swim, and any number of other back- against- the- wall clichés. She was damned if she'd just give up, though. Moving operations wasn't the same as giving up.
"I'll get this posted online right away," Harlan said, swiveling around to lay the contract beside his sleek, all- in- one computer and monitor combined, a surprisingly up- to- date piece of electronics in a shabby, crowded two- room office on the second floor above the hardware store. "That's how most of my contacts are being made these days." He gave her a quick glance, concern written large on his florid face. "Don't get your hopes up on having a firm offer right away, though. The listings around here are on the market for six months, average, which isn't bad in this economy."
"Thanks," she said to Harlan, who'd been one of her father's best friends. She supposed he needed to make the sale as much as she needed to sell. The downturn in the economy had hit everyone. Six months. God, could she hold on for six more months? The answer was: If she had to. She could do anything if she had to.
She got to her feet. "Believe me, I'm not hoping for anything right away."
But she was; she couldn't help it. She wished the place would sell this very minute, before she could think about it too much. At the same time, she dreaded the thought of leaving, and the two emotions pulled and fought inside her until she wanted to scream, for all the good that would do, which was none.
She shrugged into her coat and picked up her big tote bag, settled her hat on her head. She needed both the coat and the hat. November had come in cold and brisk, already dusting the valleys with a few light snows. The mountain peaks surrounding the valley were white, the wind blowing off them carrying the scent of winter, evergreen mixed with fresh snow. A warm front was coming in that should melt the snow back some, but everyone, human and animal, knew the warmth would be temporary; soon the cold would settle in for months.
She had to plan on being here through another winter. It would be nice if her place sold immediately, but if she was anything, Angie was realistic. Pie in the sky had never appealed to her, not when there was a plain old apple on the ground. Right now, however, she couldn't see either apple or pie. All she could do was try to eke out a living and stay on top of her...
