Walk With Me (Small Town Bachelor Romance Book 4)

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by Abby Knox




  Walk with Me

  A Small Town Bachelor Romance

  Abby Knox

  Copyright © 2018 by Abby Knox

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations

  Created with Vellum

  Dedicated to every girl who has ever stated in a dating profile that she likes “hiking.” Queen, know your worth; delete that bullshit.

  Unless, of course, hiking really and truly is your thing.

  Contents

  Walk with Me

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  An Excerpt from Abby’s Next book…

  About the Author

  Also by Abby Knox

  Walk with Me

  Book Four in the Small Town Bachelor Romance series

  by Abby Knox

  Logan has traveled all around the world to escape the confines of his domineering, wealthy family. He has finally found his place out in the wide open spaces of the American Southwest. Rescuing hapless hikers and educating kids on the beauty and dangers of the canyon, he doesn’t have to deal with himself and his own issues. He needs nothing and nobody to intrude on his perfect existence. That is, until she stumbles into his view of the great outdoors — with her inadequate supplies and tendency to walk too close to the edges — and messes everything up.

  Ever has broken things off with her longtime boyfriend shortly before a non-refundable vacation adventure. The troll had the nerve to say she works too much and trains too little. Well, this curvy girl will show him how it’s done. She’s overcoming all the odds to conquer the great outdoors, by herself. Realizing quickly she’s in way over her head, Ever sets her sights on a hot park ranger to help guide her through the wide open spaces. She knows she’s not ready to take the plunge into love, but this khaki-clad do-gooder might have more to offer her than a backcountry pass.

  Do you like knock-me-over-with-a-feather insta-love? Do you like voluptuous heroines who go it alone on vacation and don't care what anybody thinks? Logan and Ever are all that, plus a bag of trail mix.

  Fair warning: this is an adult book featuring sweaty adults doing sweaty, adult things in a dangerous, punishing environment. So, gather up your first aid supplies and watch out for that cactus.

  Chapter 1

  Ever

  “Ever Joan Diamond, you come back up here, now!”

  Her sister’s panicked words had the effect of a mosquito in the ten-year-old girl’s ear; Ever was determined to explore the canyon.

  What young Ever referred to as the “canyon” in their backyard in Middleburg was in reality no more than a sandy 30-foot drop down to the railroad tracks.

  And what young country girl with perpetually skinned knees and tangled hair could bear to move from the farm—where she had had free rein of the hilly countryside and all of the creeks, ridges, pastures and woods that 1,000 acres afforded—to a small rental bungalow in town and stay still? How could she be obedient to her big sister Drea’s advice to resist the temptation to explore every anthill, sidewalk crack, mole hole, and the most interesting thing about this new home: the railroad tracks that ran straight through her new, scrubby little backyard?

  On this day, like most days, the neighbor’s dog barked at her from behind the shared privacy fence, a structure that was completely odd to Ever and made her imagination of the size of the dog run wild. It was definitely a large breed, with a fierce, deep, heart-startling bark.

  The farm she had known as her home until the age of 10 was bordered only by a split rail fence, and the nearest neighbor was over a mile away. All this closeness and all these walls didn’t sit well with Ever.

  And neither did school, or shoes, or hairbrushes, for that matter. Over breakfast, she had tried and tried to make her case to her sister to let her continue to be homeschooled.

  “I hate that school. It’s loud and there are kids everywhere and I hate desks and everyone laughed at my shirt.”

  Ever thought these were all solid arguments. Her sister Drea’s argument was not so solid in her mind. “Ever, I have to go to work. We've talked about this. You will be fine. They’re all just jealous they don’t have a cool big sister to give them hand-me-down shirts. Finish your breakfast and then brush your teeth, please.”

  “But I’m practically teaching myself now. That’s what Mom said last year. You can go to work and I can do the schoolwork myself.”

  “Ever, that’s not how it works.”

  That was a phrase she had heard the day before at school, when she'd stood up and tried walking out of the classroom to use the restroom without raising her hand first to request a “bathroom buddy.”

  The teacher spoke firmly as Ever was about to head out the classroom door. “Ever, that’s not how this works. You need a teacher or a buddy to go with you.”

  Ever had laughed. “I’m ten years old and I’ve been wiping my own butt for at least six years now.”

  Ever thought she could do without the stares from other students and teachers, as if she’d grown a second head out of her neck.

  “Well, we could make it work. I could come to your office and study there,” she pleaded with her sister.

  Drea sighed as she shoe-horned her feet into last season’s pumps and snapped shut her second-hand briefcase. “As much as I love the idea of keeping my eyes on you 24/7, my office is in chaos. I’m lucky the county attorney had an opening for me in the first place in that dinky little office; and I’m still sorting out all of Mom and Dad’s things to get them out of probate court. Homeschooling you on top of it is just not going to work. In fact, I’ll probably have a ton of paperwork to bring home tonight, so I really need you to try to get your homework done on your own, OK? Hey, maybe you can invite a friend over to study with you, once you get settled in at school. Things will get better.”

  Ever picked at her buttered toast and eggs as Drea talked at her, but she couldn’t get her mind off of her worry about what she might do wrong in school today. What social cues might she miss that would ruin her entire school year.

  Then, a distant train whistle distracted her brain from her dread and worry. And so, Ever needed to go down near the tracks to watch.

  The rumble of the steel wheels had her scarfing down her toast before running outside barefoot, her sister’s warnings barely registering.

  Ever thought, I’m just going to park myself halfway down the canyon and watch the train go by.

  That was the plan, anyway.

  What actually happened was what usually happens with an eroding hill. As Ever sat
watching the freight train roar past, the earth beneath her bottom began to give way. The train was a mere four car-lengths’ distance away from her skinny, pre-pubescent body, and the only barrier was a slope of weed-dappled sandy soil.

  Ever found herself sliding toward certain death. White-hot fear tore through her lungs. She turned around and scrambled upward toward the safety of level ground. Looking up at the top of the ridge, her sister’s ghost-white face was looking back at her, her mouth shouting words that were no match for the noise of the roaring freight train. Drea had taken a step down and was reaching out her arms to save Ever. Ever didn’t grab on; she knew this hill well, and grabbing on like this would send them both tumbling down this unsteady ground back toward the tracks. Instead, Ever grabbed on to a feeble-looking young tree trunk, barely the size of her own wrist. It didn’t look sturdy, but it was something. The determined little tree proved to be Ever’s saving grace, as she used it to hoist herself up the hill and into Drea’s shaking arms.

  Drea had not carried her little sister since Ever was five years old. She’d fallen off a tractor wheel and sprained her ankle while they were playing together in the field. But today, office pumps and all, Drea carried Ever into the house and straight into the bathroom, setting the hyperventilating Ever on the edge of the tub while she turned the knob to run warm water.

  “Mommy?”

  Calling her sister “Mommy” by accident happened a lot these days. Drea acted like Mom more and more all the time. Drea always took it in stride and never corrected her.

  As they waited for the warm water to reach the old bathroom pipes, Drea vomited the contents of her breakfast into the commode. Ever watched in concern as her big sister then flushed, washed her face and hands in the sink, rinsed out her mouth with mouthwash, and finally spoke with a surprisingly even tone.

  “Ever Joan. You are going to take a shower and wash off this dirt, and then you are going to go to school, and if you ever do that again, so help me God, there will be no outside playtime for you for a month.”

  Ever never went down the sand hill to watch the train again. Nor did she ever again sully her summer feet with dirt. There would be no discoveries of frogs to be carried around in her cotton dress pockets. No climbing splintery fences to get a look at the neighbor’s dog. No more skinned knees from riding her banana-seat bike too fast down the hill to the corner store.

  Ever cleaned up. Went to school. Came home. Did her homework. Read books. Got good grades. Went to bed on time.

  And as she slept, she woke briefly to the sound of the passing freight train in her backyard, listened to the whistle for a moment, then fell back asleep. Eventually, the sound of the train didn’t wake Ever at all anymore.

  Chapter 2

  Logan

  “Logan Brandon McBee, you will get in this car this instant.”

  These words were not shouted. His nanny, Maude, never needed to raise her voice at Logan. When he acted up, Maude only needed to use his full name in a steady command to get him to comply.

  But this morning was different.

  It was a Saturday. Maude was not supposed to be here. Today was the 1996 Junior League championship baseball game. His dad was supposed to take him. He had promised.

  “Oh, you bet I’ll be there, slugger,” Phillip McBee had vowed the night before. “And then tonight we can have an old Star Trek marathon, just like last year.”

  Those were his old man’s exact words.

  But this morning, the promise had been broken. “I’m sorry, slugger. Something came up at work. But hey, we’re still on for Star Trek, right, buddy?”

  Fourteen-year-old Logan had shrugged and nodded. He didn’t hear the explanations as he stared down at his smoked salmon and arugula toast. He sipped his fresh squeezed orange juice, and as phrases like “troubled acquisition” rattled around the cold, modern kitchen, he made a decision.

  Logan had vowed he would never grow up to be a financial attorney like his dad. Logan would grow up to be whatever is the complete opposite of being a man who goes to an office and deals with banks and farms and loans and troubled acquisitions. He didn’t know what the opposite of all that was, but he would find out, and he would be that.

  Shortly after breakfast, his dad was off to work, and Logan was taking off his baseball uniform and putting on jeans and a Tupac tee-shirt.

  Nanny Maude was not having it.

  “If you don’t get ready and get in this car, your dad is going to fire me. Is that what you want? You want me to starve?”

  “No.”

  “Then you'd better get your little ass to that game.”

  “I’m not going to the game. Something came up,” he said, passing by the minivan, where she stood in the driveway with the door open, looking stern but helpless to this turn of character in her young charge.

  “No sir,” she said, shutting the door and following him down the sidewalk. “You are 14. Things don’t just come up for kids who are 14. You have a schedule to keep, and my job is to keep it. I am taking you to that game whether you like it or not. I know you are mad at your daddy, but you are going to have to work that out with him later. By acting this way, you are punishing me.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “That's your comeback? Good one, Honor Roll.”

  Logan stopped in the middle of the tree-lined gated street. He looked at Maude. She was right. If she didn’t take him to the game, she might be fired. He couldn’t in good conscience let that happen.

  He sighed, circled back to the house, put on his uniform and grabbed his gear bag. Before he left, he tossed his jeans and Tupac tee-shirt and flip-flops into the bag.

  “She doesn’t need to know, and it won’t be her fault,” he muttered to himself as he left the house again and headed to the van. Maude seemed satisfied.

  In Logan’s 14-year-old brain, this was a solid plan. He would pretend he was going to the game, and Maude would be protected because she had done her job. Dad thinks I’m going to the game. He won’t ask any other questions; he doesn't care about any other details. Tomorrow, he’ll ask me when soccer season starts. He’ll sign a check to sponsor the team, and then that will be the last of his involvement in my soccer games.

  Maude was the only mother figure he had ever known since Logan’s mother, Helena, had died when he was just a baby. And still, Maude was dismissed after Phillip McBee discovered that Logan had walked away from the baseball game as soon as Maude had dropped him off.

  Logan had thought his father would not notice or care. He had forgotten one tiny fact: that his father’s law firm was the team sponsor. The coach had called after the team had suffered its embarrassing loss. When old Phillip found out what had happened, Logan thought for sure his father would have his hide. Instead, he had listened while his father and his nanny had argued in the seconds before her firing.

  “And what should I have done when he ditched the game? Should I have picked him up and put him in time out like a toddler? He’s taller than I am!”

  “You should have called me at the first sign of defiance,” said Phillip.

  “So you would have forced your son to go to a game he didn't want to play?”

  “My dear, it’s not that he doesn’t want to play baseball. He was trying to get my attention. This could have been easily resolved over the phone. Instead I have to suffer the humiliation of my own team failing because my son decided to have a temper tantrum.”

  Maude, Logan later learned, would be fine. She quickly got another job with another family. Before she had left, she had promised to stay in touch with Logan, but she had not. Months later, Logan had spotted her with a pair of preschool-age twins at the park. He saw it as a betrayal, even though he knew it wasn’t.

  That’s when Logan decided to be done. Done with his father, done with depending on anyone. Just. Done.

  People, in general, were more than happy to oblige him. Twenty-two years later, he was still getting what he wished for… to be alone.

  Chapte
r 3

  Ever

  Ever sat on the edge of her bed and stared down at her nemesis. It seemed to have taken on a mind of its own and it had no intention of cooperating.

  “I’m going to figure you out. I’m a 32-year-old female with an IQ of 124. And we are going to do this.”

  For the fifth time that day, Ever attacked the unwieldy giant, determined to make it comply. This high-tech, high-priced hiking backpack was no joke.

  The frustrating thing here was that the backpack had been a voluntary purchase by her and now represented everything wrong with her life. Anyone else in their right mind would simply return the gear to the store. Nobody would judge her for giving up on this ridiculous plan.

  Not anymore. She’d taken care of that.

  As she hoisted the backpack on one more time, determined to get all the clips and adjustable straps, doo-dads and thingamabobs anchored correctly enough for her impending adventure, Ever could not stop Brody’s words from echoing in her ears. Their last conversation had been a doozy.

  It had started out benignly enough, then turned ugly. “I’m canceling our hiking trip out west,” Brody had said while he and Ever were waiting for their desserts at their favorite Italian restaurant in the city. They often went on their dates outside of their small town; Brody had always said he liked exploring other places with Ever. Now, though, the truth was about to come out.

 

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