Still, when they went home to their mansions, nannies and often loveless marriages, she went to a tiny apartment where the stove only occasionally worked and the upstairs neighbor seemed to wear tap shoes day and night.

Sometimes, it wore on her. She wanted more, for herself and her daughter. She wanted stability, financial freedom and peace. She wanted to look in her bank account at the end of the month and not have a panic attack trying to figure out how to make ends meet. She wanted to not pressure her daughter to find her first job just so she wouldn’t have to give her so much spending money anymore. She wanted to be able to say yes when Evie wanted to see a movie or take hip hop dance lessons.

She said no a lot.

“You okay, miss?” a man asked from beside her. He was standing over her, a cup of coffee in his hand. She glanced up, not long enough to even see his face, and then looked back down at her phone.

“Yes. Thanks.”

Without warning, he sat down on the other end of the bench and sighed. “Sure is pretty weather out here today, huh?”

She didn’t make eye contact. “I guess so.”

He cleared his throat. “You new in town?”

Finally, she looked at him. He was handsome, no doubt about it. But he wasn’t handsome in a Newport, Rhode Island kind of way. He was mountain man handsome, with hands that had seen real work and tan skin that didn’t come from a spray or a booth.

He had brown hair with tinges of gold, and it was so thick that she was jealous. It hung just above his shoulders, and she tried hard not to look lower at his biceps bulging under the cotton t-shirt he was wearing.

“Um, yes. Just visiting, actually.”

“Ah. Well, welcome to Carter’s Hollow.”

“Thanks,” she said, looking back down at her phone. She started to type a response about the tablecloths.

“How long have you been here?”

“Are you writing a book?” she asked, looking at him again. Cute or not, he was becoming a little intrusive.

“Sorry. I guess my granny was right when she said curiosity killed the cat. It’s just you look a little like a fish outta water with your fancy purse and staring at your cell phone.”

“I’m sure other people around here have cell phones,” she said, dryly.

“True enough. We just don’t look at them so often.”

“Thanks for the input,” she said, looking back down.

“My name’s Cooper,” he said, reaching his hand in front of her. She stared at it for a moment and couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Of course, it didn’t matter, but somehow it seemed important in the moment.

“I didn’t ask.”

He chuckled. “You from up north?”