Maybe that wouldn’t have bothered most people since they probably never ran into their doctors outside of their offices. Unfortunately, Preslee didn’t have that luxury. Her father lived next door to the man. Besides that, Granite, Texas, was a small town, and it wasn’t unusual for her to run into Dr. Fowler several times a week. Often at the post office, occasionally at the grocery store, sometimes in the bakery, and he even knew where she worked. Jeez. Nowhere was safe.

So Preslee had sucked it up and agreed to the tests. She’d stopped eating at eight o’clock the night before and woke up early the next morning to drive herself to the nearest lab in the next town over to have her blood drawn. All the while feeling like she’d been starving for weeks and had sand trickling down her dry, scratchy throat.

Yeah, fasting sucked.

Thank goodness she didn’t know any top-secret government intelligence. If anyone ever wanted to torture her for information, all they’d have to do was refuse her food or water for about twelve hours. She’d tell them everything they ever wanted to know. And probably then some.

Over the past week, however, Preslee had forgotten all about those dang tests and—thankfully—her horrible fasting experience. That was, until the doctor had called this morning to give her the upsetting results. As he spoke, only one word had stood out to her. Prediabetic.

Although the medical term sounded ominous, Dr. Fowler had assured her that it wasn’t the worst thing he could’ve found and it was completely reversible if she took action now. Then he’d urged her to change her crappy diet and become more physically active in order to lose some weight and get her glucose levels back to normal.

Right. Because it was just that simple.

Maybe the optimistic doctor hadn’t realized that he’d just asked her to change her entire lifestyle, but he had. And whether she liked it or not, that was going to take some seriously hard work on her part. But she didn’t have a choice. Her health was at stake, and she wanted—no, needed—to take this seriously. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be long before she dropped the pre and was left with only diabetic.

Preslee cringed and then hauled in a deep breath. “Better go inside and get this over with.”