“I’ll keep that in mind,” Becca murmured as she pulled the last of the foils off Mrs. Williams’s head. “Let’s wash now, shall we?”

The good thing about washing was that because the water was going, it meant Becca didn’t have to talk—or listen to Mrs. Williams talk. Thank goodness for that, because she needed a few minutes to compose herself. Becca had always thought that two years would be enough time to mend her broken heart. Two years surely should have been enough time to get over the man that left her on the eve of their wedding. It should have been enough time to get over the bitterness that swallowed her up every time she paid the credit card bills that she still had from the wedding that had never happened.

Instead, it all seemed to just irritate her more and more.

It didn’t help that everyone in Painted Barrel still asked about the Wedding That Wasn’t. Of course they did. Becca being left at the altar (well, practically) was the biggest scandal that Painted Barrel had had in all of the town’s uninspiring history. She’d always been popular around town. She was moderately cute, tried her best to be friendly to everyone, ran her own local business, and, for ten years, she’d dated the ex-captain of the local football team, handsome, blond Greg Wallace.

Oh, Greg.

Greg was not good at making decisions about what he wanted in life. It had taken her ten years to figure out that particular tidbit of information, but once she had, it had explained so much. It explained why Greg never finished college, and why he’d never held down a job for longer than a year or two. It explained why he’d gone back and forth on their relationship, first wanting to see other people, then wanting Becca back, then getting engaged, calling it off, getting engaged again, and then deciding a few days before the wedding that he’d changed his mind and he was in love with another woman.

She’d been a damned idiot for far too long.

Becca scrubbed at Mrs. Williams’s hair, asking about the woman’s grandchildren without listening to the answer. Her thoughts were still on Greg. Why had she wasted so much time with him? Was she truly that stupid?

But, no, she supposed it wasn’t stupidity as much as it was a soft heart, a fear of being alone, and the fact that Greg was a terrible decision maker but a great apologizer. He’d been so sweet every time he’d come crawling back that she’d felt like the world’s worst person if she said no. So she said yes . . . and yes, and yes . . .