Bryan had never been described as outgoing. His ex-wife had put it in less flattering terms. Boring. Lame. Hey, he might not be the most exciting person, but no local would refute his outdoor knowledge.
Now it was 7:58. Where was everyone?
He studied the parking lot again. A family unpacked bikes from a silver minivan. An elderly man hobbled in the direction of the bird feeders located near the pond. And the strange woman? Marched his way, albeit in a zigzag pattern.
As she neared, he pegged her at about five feet tall and in her late twenties, but he’d never been good at guessing ages. She had rosy lips and big green eyes that didn’t seem to register her whereabouts. Streaks of cinnamon shot through her hair.
She was pretty.
Very pretty.
His pulse hammered like the bill of the downy woodpecker against the poplar to his left. She could not be one of his students. He’d mentally prepared for older folks, college kids.
He hadn’t prepared for pretty.
Green Eyes edged into the pavilion, her chest heaving as if she’d run six miles. Her face was white, and she blinked rapidly. “Is this the survival class?”
He widened his stance, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, this is Outdoor Survival 101.”
“Good. I barely survived the parking lot, so I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Great. His only student. Cute and probably crazy.
Real funny, God. I ask You to get me out of my five-year rut, and You give me this?
“I know what I’m doing.” Bryan rubbed the two-day stubble on his chin. “What was so bad about the parking lot?”
She grimaced, a visible shiver rippling over her. “Everything.”
He pressed his lips together. He did not encourage overly dramatic behavior. His sister Libby’s antics growing up had taught him that.
“Bryan Sheffield.” He thrust his hand out. Her icy fingers felt fragile in his.
“Jade Emerson.”
The name fit her on account of the eyes. “Since you’re the lone student so far, let’s wait a few minutes before heading to the trail.”
Jade practically collapsed on the bench of a picnic table. Her olive jacket covered dark jeans, and she wore rubber rain boots—burgundy with black polka dots. She reminded him of a princess, someone he’d read about in picture books as a kid, but her defeated posture didn’t match the images in his mind.
He hadn’t seen her before, and in a small town like this it meant she wasn’t from around here. One of his numerous relatives would have alerted him. Aunt Sally and the ladies from work were forever trying to set him up with any single woman in the county. He always politely declined, unwilling to reveal it wouldn’t matter who they set him up with—he wasn’t interested in dating or marriage. Once was enough.
“Are you from out of town?” he asked.
“Yes. Just moved yesterday.”
He didn’t know what it was like to be new in town. He’d lived here his entire life, but hopefully that would change this summer. “How did you find out about the class?”
She gave her head a little shake. “The website. I saw the class advertised a few weeks ago.”
At least he knew the Parks and Recreation Department listed the correct information. “So where are you from?”
“Las Vegas.” A bit of color returned to her cheeks.
“Sin City, huh?” Why would a pretty girl from Las Vegas want to move here?
“I prefer to think of it by its lesser known nickname, the Capital of Second Chances.”
Second chances? A second chance at Blue Mountain sounded good. He hitched his chin. “So what brings you to Lake Endwell?”
“I’m opening a store.” The words pulled from her as wispy and thin as threads of cotton candy.
“Oh, yeah? What kind?”
“A gift shop.” She fanned herself, but the temperature couldn’t be more than fifty-five degrees. “Custom-designed T-shirts and gifts. I’m still deciding on the inventory.”
A candy store, novelty shop and higher-end women’s clothing boutique satisfied the summer tourists. The town might not be able to support her store year-round, but Bryan kept his thoughts to himself. If Jade wanted to open a T-shirt shop, that was her business.
And his business? Wasn’t looking promising, not with one student.
He checked the parking lot again. “It looks like you’re the only one who showed up. Do you still want to take the class?”
“No.”
No? His chest had a slow leak or something. He should be relieved. But her no stirred up bits and pieces he’d been suppressing all week, like the sinking feeling he got when his younger brother, Sam, sneered, “You, teaching? You realize you’ll have to leave the house and be friendly, right?” As if Bryan had no social skills. He knew how to be friendly. But Sam’s words had kicked up doubts. Would his personality kill his chances with the director of the retreat?
Jade stood on wobbly legs, and her fingertips darted to the table for support. “I don’t want to take the class, but I will. I have to.”
He pulled his shoulders back. A part of him would prefer no students to this one. Too cute. Too out there. Too everything. “I can cancel today’s session.”
“No!” Her eyes widened. “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?” He suppressed a sigh. Did she want to be here or not? Maybe this would qualify him for the eccentric personalities the retreat director mentioned.
She shook her head so rapidly her hair waved behind her. Her face paled again. She wasn’t going to faint, was she? Bryan stepped forward, but she remained standing.
“It will ruin everything.”
Ruin what? He didn’t know and wasn’t asking. He’d grown up with two sisters. Their way of thinking had always been two steps ahead of his.
“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t get so worked up. We’ll go to the trail right now. No big deal.”
“The trail?” she squeaked. “Right now?”
“Yeah, isn’t that what you want?”
“I... I...” Her hands twisted as if she were wringing out a wet washcloth. “I think I’m having a panic attack.” Her breaths came in short, audible gasps.
“Here.” He took a paper bag out of his backpack and handed it to her. “Breathe into this. When you’ve got it under control, tell me what’s going on.”
* * *
Jade slumped on the bench and sucked in a breath. The paper bag crinkled into itself. When she exhaled, it puffed out again. She didn’t dare look at Bryan. First of all, he was a full foot taller than her, and her neck might snap trying to stare at him from her seated position. Secondly, the sight of him made her gooey insides extra mushy. His level of attractiveness on a scale of one to ten was a twenty. Those blue eyes reminded her of the desert sky, and he had a cleft in his chin. A cleft! No man should have such touchable dark blond hair.
And now he was restlessly waiting because he seemed to think she owed him an explanation. Which she did, after treating him to a full-blown episode of her ridiculous phobia. She pulled the bag away from her mouth.
“I