Table

“Whatever you can do,

Or think you can begin it.

Boldness has power and genius,

And magic in it.” – Goethe

The flight into Sacramento International airport from Minneapolis was a turbulent journey filled with overzealous athletes, and people wanting to test the strengths of their hearts. By Julie Kratzner’s standards, these people were certifiable nut jobs journeying to the verdant region for endurance races. In her hand, she held the annual schedule for the mountain town, which drew in hundreds of thousands of people, hungry to test their endurance skills on scenic trails, calm waters, and sportsmanship either on two feet, two wheels or on horseback. The schedule showed events from February through November, of endurance challenge races, covering every sport from 100-mile foot races, to 50k mountain bike runs, and a one-day, 100-mile race on horseback.

In her estimation, anyone who wanted to run a race for 100 miles on the back of a horse was nuts. So was she. For one whole year, Julie would be a resident of the sleepy little town called Endurance, her new home for the race season. As a journalist for Sports Complicated, it was her year to spend in the picturesque town, stepping over horseshit and listening to men whine about the soreness of their balls from sitting for long periods of time in the saddle, or on a mountain bike.

When it came down to it, all of it was about nuts. Either a man wanted to prove his were bigger than the next guy, or he would lose them in the crack of a mountain bike seat at the 25k mark, coming down a rocky trail. And there were loads of trails to hike, climb, scale or get your feet wet. Looking down at the map where it lay next her open pocket calendar, she clearly identified 11 trails; each more detailed than the last. Glancing at the schedule her boss had given her, she counted twenty separate events during the 10-month period, which included the eight signature events held by the town. It was her job to cover them all, but as a budding novelist, she also wrote romantic stories under a pen name that her boss knew nothing about.

Unbeknownst to Sports Complicated, Julie mapped out a plan to uncomplicate the year by writing a novel about a sports enthusiast who fell for a local girl, and relocated to the small town of Endurance. Small towns were hot beds for romances, on and off the books. She saw no reason why this one would not be the same. There was always a spark to be witnessed between two unlikely souls that would make great fodder for a sweet, small town romance about two mismatched bodies, finding the perfect syncopation. She only had to move in, get settled, and tell the locals she wrote for the magazine. The rest would be her little secret.

However, right now, her secret was going to be given away if the man in the next seat grabbed her hand one more time when the plane hit a pocket of turbulence. Truthfully, she didn’t mind so much since he was a good-looking, hairy knuckled sort of fellow without a wedding ring. It had been a while since a man touched anything more than her hand, and Mr. Hairy Knuckles smelled like a night of happiness, wrapped in a couple of oohs and aahs. The spark ignited by the touch of his hand sent goosebumps up her arm. A tingle wove its way down her spine, and that sweet spot she often ignored woke up and took notice. Maybe, if Mr. Sexy Silver Fox was heading in her direction, she might look up the spark igniter of her dead furnace.

Julie gave him a reassuring smile as she patted his hand with her free one. The blue eyes searched her face for hope that he would not die before the plane landed. Absently, she rubbed the fine hairs on the back of his hand, receiving a smile that made her heart jump in her chest. Possibilities. He was a possibility for a nice diversion on a rainy Saturday afternoon. Just because she would be stuck in the mountains didn’t necessarily mean she should be bored out of her gourd.

“It’s okay, we are all afraid of something,” she told him. Julie began to think she was afraid of the flight never coming to an end. However, she was enjoying holding the nice man’s hand. The tender moment came to an abrupt halt as the fasten seat belt signs lit up and the flight attendants made the final walk through the cabin.

The captain’s voice came over the intercom announcing their arrival into Sacramento, and she was grateful to soon be on the ground. Captain Combs landed the plane without a hitch, much to the pleasure of the hand holding hottie. One by one, they departed the plane, taking elevators and escalators to the bottom floor to collect luggage, or secure ground transportation.

Eager to reach the town of Endurance, Julie located her overstuffed luggage on the conveyor belt. Bending over the black rotating belt of colorful baggage, she reached for the patchwork suitcase. The weight of the luggage coupled with momentum threw her balance. The next sequence of events no one could have anticipated. The suitcase handle broke. Her purse slipped from her shoulder to tangle with the broken handle effectively trapping her on a sadistic conveyor belt. Her butt stuck up in the air as she rode the oversized case around the carousel, trying desperately to untangle herself. Each time she tried to free herself, the strap yanked her back down like an overzealous lover not wanting to let her off the ride of love. And just like that, she became the catalyst for wagging tongues, uproarious laughter, and pointing fingers.

EXITING THE AIRCRAFT, Abel Burney thought about the woman who’d allowed him to hold her hand during the turbulent plane ride. The noisy shuffle of feet down the aisle pulled him from his private musings. He needed to secure his package, get to his vehicle and head home to Endurance. His muscles ached from fatigue, his stomach rumbled with hunger, yet, he felt the urge to find the woman on the plane to offer a token of gratitude. He'd lost sight of the attractive young woman, who instead of criticizing him had sought to comfort him with a soothing caress of her hand. Wanting to thank her for the assistance, he looked high and low, but to no avail. Once on the jetway, passengers flooded out like bugs running from the lights coming on in the kitchen. Hopefully, when they reached the baggage claim, he’d be able to properly thank her or at least offer her his card. Maybe she’d get a chance to see him as something more than a panicked man on a bumpy flight.

Abel’s wish came true in the most unusual manner when he entered the baggage claim area to find her straddled across a piece of luggage, impinged by the strap of her purse, bouncing up and down on the bulky zippered case like a ride at the traveling carnival.

A wide-hipped security guard, who closely resembled the mean lunch lady in every elementary school cafeteria, watched his angel with a sour face. Standing with her hands on those hips, she glared as the object of Abel’s acute desire went around the carousel for the third time. Each rotation, more luggage dumped from the black hole being fed from the plane’s belly onto an already precarious situation. The additional bags jostled her on the belt, giving Abel a first class view of her assets and growing embarrassment on the luggage—go—round. Abel sprung into action. Reaching down he scooped her and the suitcase up in one fluid motion. Initially, she stiffened in shock, but then she curled her fingers and held on to him. Though she barely moved, Abel relaxed when she brushed the fine hairs covering his knuckles. Whether she realized it or not, she felt comfortable touching him. Silently, he righted both the suitcase and her feet onto the floor. Neither of them had been a strain. Her soft curves slid against his solid chest, heating him down the body pulsing in his veins. Awareness hit him again as her arm brushed against the exposed skin of his forearm. Like a spark sending signals to a long dead furnace to wake ups, his body ignited.

“There ya go, little lady,” he whispered, close to her ear. She looked up at him, their eyes met and locked. Was that interest he spotted in her warm brown gaze? “I was hoping to repay your kindness from the plane.”

Abel kept his smile in place, even when she stiffened and narrowed her eyes. Maybe he’d misread her signals?

THE MAN SHE’D HELPED on the plane, the one with the nice hands, had come to her rescue.

“I appreciate it,” Julie mumbled, trying to get away before the man from the plane offered to give her a ride, buy her coffee, or devise a workout plan, so that she would have more upper body strength. Who was she kidding? She was just assaulted by a suitcase in public.

He must have noticed the look of distaste on her face, because he opted not to hand her a business card, or ask her out for coffee, or to share a cab. Call it vanity or life experience, but Julie knew her looks garnered a more than fair share of whistles, catcalls, and unsolicited offers to spend time with lonely men. She appreciated that “no thank you” would not be her final words to him. With a tip of his hat and a parting smile, the handsome gentleman disappeared among the crowd, leaving her to wander her way to the double sliding glass door to the street.

Horns honked, tires screeched, and people yelled in different languages as they all climbed into vehicles ready to start a new adventure. The same thought came to mind as she located the rental car van and climbed aboard to be driven to the lot to pick up her $20 a week rental. A rented car, a rented house, and rented time was all she had as she loaded up the little compact, headed out toward I-80 driving towards Endurance, California.

Forty minutes later, turning down Saratoga Springs Road, the picturesque beauty of the small town, complete with a local college, a fishing pond, and so much cuteness she could hardly stand it, stole her breath away. There was even a golf course named after Abel Burney. She had no idea who that was, but in the next 10 months, she would find out all about the man, his golf course, and the good people who lived in the town of Endurance.

THE TOWN WASN’T VERY large but was nestled in a small valley surrounded by mountains, hills, and panoramic views. Her fingertips itched to get to a keyboard to tap out the descriptions of what she saw as she drove down Miller Road coming into the center of town. She grinned, intrigued that the local museum and library shared the same space. Even more delightful was the local hospital mere steps from the town of Endurance’s cultural and literary hub. It was squeezed in between the town hall and a bakery, which she was certain made delicious donuts, and sat next to the police station. Making a left, she turned down Dodger Lane, passing a cute coffee shop, and located the rental home she would occupy.

It was an adorable two-bedroom cottage, fully stocked with everything she would need for the upcoming stay. Locating the door key under the flower pot on the small front porch adorned with two rockers, she let herself into the warm home filled with small touches to make anyone who entered feel welcome. On the table sat a list of places to eat, buy groceries, have a beer, or even a cup of coffee. She was delighted to find the list also included a bookstore, three local churches, and a Farmer’s Market down by Tommy’s Park. Locating her notepad, she jotted down a note to find out about Abel Burney, and another to figure out what happened to Tommy, and why he had a park named after him.

Riffling through her oversized suitcase, she checked the fridge and pantry, not sure why, but out of habit. Both were empty. Going back to the list, she located a grocer, checked the local map, and found it to be within walking distance. Everything in the town was within walking distance. She didn’t want to appear as the local greenhorn, so taking the two reusable shopping bags with her that she located in the empty pantry, Julie locked the front door, added the door key to her set of car keys, and made her way to Ma Hildie’s Grocery Store and Wine Tasting Bar.

The grocery store was a quaint little place, which sold easy burning fire logs, cheese covered petrified worms, and canned possum. It also housed a deli with mouthwatering delights that held all the basic necessities required to stock up. To her pleasure, it also held a wine store with free tastings. Since she was walking, and totally detested grocery shopping, she opted for the wine tasting first. Three samples later and feeling a bit lightheaded, it was time to shop for food. Shopping didn’t take Julie long since her cooking ability ebbed on the use of the microwave or an Instapot. Loading up on frozen meals, fruits, a can of peaches and just about everything the deli had in sealed little plastic containers, the grocery bags had become too heavy for her to carry.

“Yes, I am a block over in the little blue cottage on Dodger Lane,” Julie offered. “I’m staying here all year to cover the events in Endurance.”

“Well, aren’t you just the cool cat in town!” The young woman offered. “Since you’re so close, take the shopping cart. You can unload your groceries, and then bring it back.”

Happy with her purchases, she headed out of the door, feeling a bit more lightheaded than was comfortable. A rude awakening came quickly as she understood the subtlety of the slight downgrade in the route she’d taken to get to the store. It was an uphill struggle with the shopping cart to get back to the cottage. Never one to question those who believed in physical fitness, she now questioned herself for a lack of the basic strength to push a grocery cart uphill. If the ride on the carousel was bad, this small little trip down exercise row had winded her to the point of exhaustion by the time she reached the cottage’s front porch. The energy left her as she lay back on the porch with the groceries still in the cart, her knees clamped together in an effort to hold back the massive amount of pee in her bladder. This was it. Headline news would read, Pissy woman found dead on front porch of cute blue rental cottage on Dodge Lane. Her heart exploded from pushing two bags of groceries in a cart uphill. If only she had the oxygen in her lungs to get up. The food would have to wait. She didn’t have the strength to lift the bags out to carry them inside.

Splayed out like she’d had a heart attack, several people stopped to make sure she was alive. One gentleman, a Dr. Chadwick Winter, even went as far as checking her pulse. Wide eyes looked at him with a pissed off expression, which only elicited a warm smile from the attractive, clean cut, black man.

“I’m a doctor Madam,” he offered as he touched her wrist. “The altitude is pretty high up here, and you will need to take it slow the first two weeks to become acclimated.” Dr. Winter took the keys from her hand, opened her front door, and took her groceries inside. Coming back, he helped her up off the porch as she flopped down on the couch like a torn rag doll, watching the stranger put away her groceries, as if he lived in the house.

“You can put these where you want them after you catch your breath,” he said, passing her a bottle of water. “I will take the shopping cart back to Ma Hildie’s. Here, drink some water.”

She accepted the bottle, but was unable to open it due to her strength being a permanent resident on that last bit of incline. Hopefully, later today, it would catch up with her only to find her still sitting on the couch. Julie felt like an idiot for studying all the notes on the town, but failing to factor in the high altitude. The air was thin, and she hadn’t factored in that portion either.

“If you are going to be in town for a while, it would really help for you to get out each day, and walk a little to build up your endurance. After a month or so, use the bike on the front porch to get around town, so you may get stronger and used to the thin air up here,” Dr. Winter told her.

He handed her a business card, smudged with frosting. Embarrassed, he took it back replacing it with a clean card.

“Sorry about that. I have a major sweet tooth and spend way too much time at The Cupcakery. You should head there tomorrow. On Tuesdays, the owner bakes red velvet and key lime cupcakes. My favorite is the banana pudding. They have real pudding in the middle,” he offered with a smile.

Returning her keys, he waved in farewell, and left Julie alone on the couch with her thoughts. Her limp hands fumbled with the business card as her eyes tried to focus on the words. Try as she might to zoom in on the small print, her vision blurred, her lungs constricted, and she swore Tweety flew by her right ear.

Her rescuer had been a pediatrician. Tomorrow, she would follow the doctor’s order and visit The Cupcakery to try out the local flavor. One thing was certain, until she acclimated as he so fervently recommended, Julie would be driving her vehicle.

Chapter 2 – Winter & Intervals of Love

The couch was evil incarnate as far as Julie was concerned. It held her hostage for the remainder of the day. And when the night rolled in and the moon rose high, peeking through the ugly curtains hanging precariously at the windows, she felt violated by its intrusion. She’d been in Endurance for less than twelve hours and already three people knew she had no stamina and could not breathe in the thin mountain air. The nosey moon who constantly peeped into the living room window, the clerk at Ma Hildie’s, who didn’t see her return the cart, and of course, the handsome pediatrician Dr. Chadwick Winter. Well, it would be four people if you counted Couchie, her new best friend.

Since she’d spent so much time with the couch in such a short period of time, Julie felt it needed a name. Normally, she didn’t sleep with anyone on a first date, but Couchie was her new lover, and best friend. In her hours of need, he’d cradled her in his embrace, soothed her wounded pride, and comforted her lungs. The organs likely swore she’d taken up a nasty habit of inhaling shallow breaths, incapable of sustaining oxygen to her brain. A brain which felt addled this morning and in dire need of coffee.

Groaning as her muscles protested a night of unencumbered romance with Couchie, she tried to stand, but her legs resembled wet noodles after dropping in a pot of hot water. Slowly rubbing her stiff back, she made it to the small kitchen pantry, locating the bag of coffee she’d purchased. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten to buy coffee filters.

“Great,” she mumbled, looking for an alternative to filter the grounds. The only thing she had was a paper towel. “This will work too.”

Ripping off a smaller version of the multi-sized sheets, she folded it with care into the hopper. Locating a spoon, she ladled in two heaping teaspoons full, adding the small bottle of water to the reservoir, and pressing the little orange button to start the drip of morning refreshment. The light didn’t come on.

She stared at the pot with utter contempt, angered at its refusal to be her friend. Five minutes passed and there was no steamy hiss, no steady drip, and no water flowing through the pot. She wanted to scream. This was too much. Rifling through the cabinets, she hoped and prayed that there was at least an old-fashion percolator under the cabinets, but to no avail.

“This is unacceptable,” she grumbled, searching for her keys. Without checking her appearance, she headed out the front door with the local map in search of coffee. To her amazement, and the blessings from the coffee fairy, she located High Altitudes Coffee House less, than three blocks from her little rental.

Unable to form a coherent sentence, she entered the coffee shop and slapped a twenty on the counter with a growl. The vibrant young lady behind the counter stared at her for a minute, and then smiled a knowing grin.

“One grande coffee, regular, coming up,” she said with Julie watching her suspiciously. She poured the hot java into a disposable cup. “I left the lid off with room for cream, which is right over there,” she pointed.

Julie followed the direction of the finger, growling and moving like a zombie to the stand. Adding two sugars and a dollop of cream, she stirred, sipped, spooned in more sugar, stirred again, and drank. Blinking several times, she began to notice people watching her in amusement. To her absolute horror, the man from the plane who’d rescued her from the overzealous carousel also sat by the window enjoying the Julie Gets Coffee Show.

Julie raised a hand, waving at him. He waved back. Even with her thin air deprived lungs and fuzzy brain, that man was still covered in sexy.

Her smile looked as if she’d just stolen peaches off his favorite tree, and broken off a limb. He wasn’t looking at her face but almost over her head. Julie turned to see if someone stood behind her.

“No, bad morning,” she replied, looking up at him, “the coffee pot in my rental is broken.”

“It would appear your hairbrush is as well,” he said, placing a massive paw on top of her head.

“Huh?” she said, moving over to the glass to study her reflection. Hair stuck straight up from her head as if she’d walked through an electromagnetic current. “Oh, dear Jesus!”

The man laughed a throaty chuckle that reverberated in his chest. Julie was mortified twice. First, the conveyor belt now this. Her hair stood up on her head in the center of her scalp, and one side was mushed to her head. The lipstick she wore yesterday had not come off during the night, but was smeared across her mouth as if she’d been molested by Couchie’s best pal, Mr. Pillow.

“Julie Kraztner, Sports Complicated Magazine,” she said, looking down at the hand he offered in introduction.

“Ms. Kratzner, where is the rental that you are residing in during your stay?” He asked.

“A few blocks over,” she told him, sipping the coffee, trying to clear her brain. “The little blue cottage on Dodger Lane.”

“I know it well,” he said, offering her a napkin. “I tell you what I am going to do. Please allow me to treat you to breakfast at Della’s Diner, then we will see about getting you a coffee pot.”

She knew that kind of smile. It was the type of warmness a man gave when attempting to assess the level of crazy on a woman. Based on what her brother Eric had told her, men would venture as far as an eight on the crazy scale with a woman if the sex was bananas. A nine on the crazy chick scale could easily be a drawn out into a three-night stand, but a ten meant run.

“In normal circumstances, I would suggest we walk, but you appear to be incapable of making complex decisions this morning,” he said.

“The altitude is messing with me, Mr. Burney, but I drove myself over here,” she said looking at him with interest. “I can drive myself to the diner.”

“Cupcake,” she said to him. “I have eggs and bacon at the house. I want a cupcake or a bagel, not breakfast.”

He pointed down the street towards the center of town. “The Cupcakery is right over there next to town hall. Considering you are in house slippers, are you up for the walk?”

Julie looked at her feet, and then realized, at some point during the night, she’d put on her pajamas. She was in public, in her pajamas, in pink bunny house shoes, with no bra, and her hair stood up all over her head. At least, she’d put on a jacket and the coffee was good.

“Mr. Burney, twice you have seen me in less than optimal conditions. If you would be so kind, I need to go home first and get dressed,” she said with a blank look on her face.

“I tell you what Julie Kratzner... I’m going to drive you, wait while you get yourself together, and treat you to one of the best cupcakes in town,” he said, gripping her elbow. She shuffled towards the door, looking forward to getting out of the small shop.

ABEL WITNESSED JULIE pull up in the little blue car, parking haphazardly and taking up two parking spaces. It took everything in him not to laugh when she stepped out of the car, her hair sticking up in every direction, with the pink bunny slippers on her feet. She was in dire need of a cup of coffee, and quite possibly a babysitter. He remembered her from the plane as well, allowing him to hold her hand during the turbulence. He thought he’d repaid the favor in full when he rescued her from the luggage carousel, when her handful of bottom was tooted up in the air as she rode around on top of the luggage. She was, in fact, adorable as she sat in his passenger seat, losing the battle with the seat belt. In frustration, she growled when she was unable to get it to connect after several attempts. Abel reached over, grabbed the strap, and clicked the safety device into the holder.

“Shut up,” she said in laughter at her own ridiculousness. “These past two days have been horrific. I am all out of sorts.”

“Not judging, just enjoying the show,” he said, putting the car into gear. He drove the three blocks to the little blue cottage. Parking in the drive, he asked her for the keys to the front door.

Julie looked at him with large, doe-like eyes, as she said softly, “I left them in my car.”

Abel started to laugh as he backed out the driveway, turned his vehicle, and headed back to the coffee shop. He didn’t make a sound as he parked, got out of his car, walked around the back end of the automobile, and retrieved her keys from the ignition. Luckily, the majority of the crowds had not come to town yet, or someone would have had the pleasure of joyriding in her car. He held onto the keys as he drove them to the blue cottage, parking in the drive for the second time. Reaching across the console, he unfastened her seat belt and pulled the latch to open the car door for her.

“No worries,” he replied, “I’ll wait for you while you shower and dress.”

As far as Julie was concerned, her interactions with Abel Burney couldn’t get any worse than the two she’d already had with the man. He opened the door to find her suitcase in the middle of the floor with her clothing strewn all over the hardwood. A pair of underwear dangled haphazardly on the lamp, with the crotch facing upwards.

“I’m not even going to ask,” he said, looking about. He picked up the suitcase, clamped all the loose clothing inside, picked the panties off the lamp, and carried it to the bedroom. Sitting the luggage on the bed, he looked at Julie closely. Adorable was the perfect word for her. She was nearly five seven, but her head only reached his chin. Soft, ebony skin, big brown expressive eyes, and curly black hair, which sorely needed a brush. He felt an unfamiliar attraction to her, unlike any he’d experienced in the last few years. Maybe, I’ve been single too long because this woman is a heated mess, but I’m drawn to her.

“Good, because I don’t have an answer,” she told him kicking off the pink bunny slippers. “I won’t be long.”

“I’ll wait in the other room,” he told her. Abel closed the bedroom door. Heading to the kitchen, he checked the fridge. She did have bacon and eggs, so he decided to cook them a quick breakfast. Curiosity made him check the coffee pot, and it was indeed broken. He left the uncooked eggs and bacon on the counter. Grabbing her keys, he made a quick run to the local store, where he purchased a new coffee pot and filters.

When he returned, Julie was still in the shower, so he started the coffee. Abel sizzled bacon, scrambled eggs, and made a few slices of toast by the time she came out of the bedroom dressed. She was visibly shocked when he poured her the second cup of hot coffee to get her morning going. By Abel’s assessment, the lady needed at least two to make her a functional member of society.

“If you are telling me that you got the pot to work, I am packing my things and leaving right now,” she said, accepting the mug.

“No,” he said, pulling out the chair. “You took so long to get showered and dressed, that I went and bought you a coffee pot and made breakfast.”

“Normally, I don’t give two toots from a cow’s arse what people think of me, but you for some odd reason matter,” she said.

“Are you telling me Julie that I matter to you?” he asked with one eyebrow arched.

“You don’t matter more than this coffee and food if that’s what you are asking,” she said.

“Fair enough. Eat up and we’ll go and get you a cupcake,” he said like a father would to his child. There was a twinkle in his eye when he said the words in a non-fatherly tone, as if implying good behavior meant she would receive more treats. The oddest sensation came over her. She didn’t want Abel Burney to think of her as a child; contrary to everything he’d seen about her thus far.

THE CUPCAKERY WAS A delightful shop full of pastel colors. Equally vibrant sweet treats lined up like delectable soldiers in the display case, vying for customers to snap to attention and salute the chef’s efforts. To Abel, it reminded him of the animal shelter with all the animals crying out to be taken home and cared for by a loving owner. Julie decided not to let them down. Three red velvet, two key lime, and the banana pudding cupcakes were hers to love. The banana pudding, she wanted to eat on the spot, taking a table by the window with her new friend Abel.

Another friend walked through the door. Dr. Winter entered with an expression of determination on his face, marched up to the counter, and ordered the banana pudding cupcake, chatting away with the shop owner. The woman listened intently, but only provided two word answers.

“He’s trying too hard,” Julie said to Abel. “The woman is obviously not interested and only being polite.”

“You’re wrong,” Abel said, biting into a Snickerdoodle, “look at her body language.”

Abel was right. The shopkeeper’s body language was different. It conveyed to the good doctor that she was indeed interested. Fingers lingered in his palm when she returned his change; as if they shared a secret tryst the night before and no one knew but the two of them. She touched her hair several times after removing the gloves she wore to bag up or box up sweet treats, but she wasn’t talking back to him.

“She’s not returning the conversation,” Julie said, watching them closely, “only two-word responses.”

“Sherron, that’s her name. She has a speech impediment,” Abel said. “The doc knows this which is why he phrases his comments so that she can answer in her own way.”

“How? She’s dressed like one of the Who’s from Whoville. He’s in tailored black clothing, which is a complete opposite of her. They have nothing in common, and I don’t believe that opposites attract that much,” she whispered to Abel.

“I do. You don’t see me leaving the house in my pajamas and pink bunny slippers to go get coffee, but here we are together,” he said, arching one eyebrow.

“You and I are no more in a relationship than those two people,” she countered.

Abel bit into the remainder of the cookie, eyeing her with interest. Julie intrigued him, and he wanted to know more about her. He also found himself interested in her perspective on relationships.

“Not yet,” he said, watching her expression change as she tried to understand what he was inferring.

“The couple is not yet in a relationship,” she repeated, trying to find clarification.

“Sure, if that’s what you thought you heard,” he said, raising his hand to Sherron for another cookie. This also drew Doc Winter’s attention away from the store owner, prepared to challenge whoever dared to draw her focus away from him.

“Oh hey, Julie,” Dr. Winter said to her, spotting Abel. “Hey there Abel. I see you met your tenant.”

Julie arched her eyebrows in response, which crinkled her forehead. He was the owner of the cottage she rented, as well as the golf course. Abel Burney was shielding loads of information from her, and she prayed the good doctor would feel the need to hold back a few tidbits of information about their first encounter as well. He didn’t.

“I’m glad to see you out and about Julie,” he said. “I was concerned when I found you splayed out like that on your front porch. Ma Hildie asked about you as well when I returned the shopping cart. She said she didn’t think you were going to make it up that incline. They were placing bets that you would pass out before you made it to the driveway of the cottage.”

“I thought doctors were supposed to be tight lipped keepers of the HIPAA Act and Hippocratic oath,” Julie said.

“You are not my patient,” Dr. Winter replied. “Besides, it is fairly common with the thin air to have that sort of reaction.”

“Welcome to End...dd...u...rance,” Sherron the shopkeeper said as she placed another cookie on a cute paper plate in front of Abel.

“You know...Chad...wick...? I mean...Dr. Winter,” Sherron asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Yes, we met yesterday,” Julie said. “How long have you two been dating?”

Both Dr. Winter and Sherron began to stutter as she wiped her hands on her apron and disappeared behind the counter. More people came into the shop, pulling the cupcake maker away, taking her attentions from Dr. Winter’s skillful flirting, leaving him to take a seat without being offered one.

“Yeah, but you want to date her,” Julie said, leaning closer and whispering back.

“Because you talked to her about the most mundane things to get her to engage with you,” Julie said. “The moment her attention was drawn to someone else, you reacted as if Abel’s request for another cookie was a threat. You’ve got it bad doc.”

“Julie, you’re new in town,” Dr. Winter said to her with all sincerity, “you can’t just go about making assessments of people and sharing what you think, which may or may not be correct.”

Abel and Dr. Winter leaned back in the chair in unison, folding their arms across their chest as they took in Julie Kraztner. The corner of Dr. Winter’s mouth twitched while Abel Burney squinted his eyes. He liked her. He liked her a lot.

“Julie, Endurance is not only the place where people come to test their mettle against nature, but it’s also a community of single fathers,” Abel said.

“Yes and no,” he said. “My son is completing college at the university this year.”

They waited for her questions about their lives, but they didn’t come. Instead, she watched the public interactions with Sherron. Each man that approached the counter made Dr. Winter tense up like he was doing interval training on love muscle failure. The man was sucking all the air out of the shop. Julie needed to get her day moving, unpack, and learn how to breathe in the thin air of Endurance.

“Don’t wait too long to make your move doc,” she offered standing up. “A woman like that is catching many eyes and loads of attention. This cupcake alone is enough to make me want to ask her out, and I don’t like women.”

Abel sputtered the rest of his cookie at the frankness of her words. He got to his feet collecting his cup of decaf tea, hurrying to catch up with the woman. Abel wanted to spend more time with Julie. She had something very few women were able to get from him, his undivided attention.

Chapter 3 – The Art of Persistence

Abel sat behind his desk staring absently out the window, trying to determine how the wreck of a woman named Julie had penetrated his defenses. Julie Kraztner was nothing like any of women he’d ever dated nor had any interest in. If you would have asked him five years ago, well even ten, he would not have given her a second look. After only two days, the hot mess of a writer was all over his radar, blurring the screen with her constant blips of adorable annoyance.

Even now, he wanted to call her to see if she was free tomorrow night to attend a gala opening at the Endurance Museum with him. The curator, Amelie Bishop, had a new display coming in on African art, and it would be followed up in the spring with an exhibit on Mayan artifacts. The gala, a catered affair with tiny finger sandwiches and seafood on skewers, had quickly become a winter seasonal favorite by the art lovers in the town. If he wasn’t mistaken, Amelie had also hired genuine African dancers, and authentic cooks to cater the food for the opening. He loved the gala opening because it meant guests would come to his golf course for an afternoon or early morning tee offs on the links.

He needed to be persistent with Julie if he wanted her to know he was interested in more than a helpful way of marrying her to her coffee, or rescuing her from herself. Maybe he would call on her for lunch under the guise of getting her out of the house to explore more of the town. The good folks in Endurance had embraced him when he was at his lowest, after his divorce and ceremonial emptying of his pockets. Hell, he was almost homeless as well.

The divorce had left him a mess of man. Coming to Endurance for a race had changed his life. He loved the community so much that he bought the two-bedroom cottage Julie now rented for his home. Once his son Ralph came for a visit over the summer, he too fell in love with Endurance and wanted to stay, much to his wife’s disapproval. However, Abel didn’t have the seven-figure job he once had, and child support payments dropped to almost nothing. In his approximation, her fight over Ralph centered on the monthly child-support checks. When those dropped to less than two hundred dollars a month, she lost the willingness to fight with him on where and how he could spend time with Ralph. She also stopped fighting when his son returned home after weekend visits. When she stopped calling, he reduced his timelines in returning their offspring back to Sacramento on Sunday nights, until one day he didn’t take him back at all. Oh, he still sent the check each month, but his son stayed with him. It was one of the best decisions Abel ever made.

Abel, having lost most of his money in legal fees fighting his wife, found himself in the precarious position of starting over. His luck held out as he won several of the races in Endurance, netting a nice profit which enabled him to purchase a good bit of land and build his golf course. Initially, it was nothing more than a putting green, then he added nine holes. The number of people who came each year to play the course increased, along with the frequent Endurance racers that requested memberships. In less than two years, his income rose to the earnings of his old salary, and he added the last nine holes to the course along with a free-standing restaurant and bar. The 19^th Hole had become a second home for him and the boy, as well as an office in which he conducted business. Ten years later, Ralph was a senior at UC Endurance, completing his engineering degree.

On occasion, he would teach a class or three at the university, but most of his time was spent piddling about Endurance, looking for ways to improve the small town, and the quality of the artistic events available for the annual race goers to participate. After all, the town may have been small, but they did have some culture. Tomorrow, he planned to take in some of that culture with an attractive young lady on his arm. What magazine did she say she worked for again? Ah yes, Sports Complicated. He turned in his chair and looked it up online.

Locating the webpage, he found Julie’s staff photo. Underneath the picture was an email address. He clicked the blue link which opened an email window. Typing a quick message, he asked her to call because he had tickets to the gala opening at the museum. Checking the message twice, he read over it a third time to ensure there were no innuendos hidden in the text, and clicked send.

“Shit, I forgot to include my phone number,” he mumbled, recalling the message, correcting it, and sending it again.

Abel stared at the screen. He didn’t know what he expected to happen, but he waited patiently like a cat at a mousehole. The loud sound of Viognier spit out of his phone, vibrating simultaneously nearly causing him to jump out of his seat.

The number displayed on the screen had a New York area code. He didn’t know anyone from New York and almost didn’t answer it, but he lifted the phone from the desk. It’s probably a telemarketer.

“Does this gala include tiny food on buttery crackers and good wine, Mr. Burney?” the soft voice said.

“Yes, it does,” he said lowering the octave in his voice, “I’m almost certain it will include some form of seafood or chicken on a skewer as well.”

“Good, then it’s a date,” she said. “Will a little black dress be appropriate?”

“It will,” he said with a smile. “The gala is an African exhibit, and don’t ask me why, but I have a Kenta cloth tie.”

“I have a matching head wrap,” Julie responded. “If you don’t ask any questions, I won’t either.”

JULIE SPENT MOST OF the next day trying her hand at riding the bike around Endurance. She made it as far as the coffee shop, and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to reorient herself to pedal the bike for the three blocks to her house. The nice girl behind the counter made her a protein smoothie packed with potassium, which helped a great deal. The bike was pushed as she made her way to the cottage, and she spent the remainder of the evening with her second boyfriend, Couchie.

“I love you Couchie, you understand my needs,” she whispered to the green flower covered sofa with the high back and oversized pillows. He held her again as she tried to make phone calls to her family, then to her boss who spent most of the conversation laughing at her antics.

“It takes two weeks to become acclimated Julie,” Elsie Devonshire, the publishing manager of the magazine, told her.

“I know Elsie, but it is so pretty here, even in winter,” she replied, trying to catch her breath. “There are events here that I can’t even get to because I can’t get enough air to fuel me.”

“You are not going to be any good to the magazine or anyone else if they find you blue on the floor from altitude sickness,” Elsie told her. “Take it slow.”

“Although I appreciate the art of persistence, I need you to focus on the long-term goal versus the short term. Get out, meet the locals, let them get used to you being in their world, so they can trust you,” Elsie said.

“On that note, I’m going to a gala opening tonight at the museum. Kinda looking forward to it,” she said.

Julie bit her bottom lip. She didn’t quite meet Abel Burney, but he was thrust into her life. There was no way to deny the attraction between them, and for that reason, she relished the opportunity to get dressed up to show him a different side of her. He was a good-looking man, but she couldn’t tell how old Abel was since the man was so physically fit.

“Something like that,” she told Elsie, clicking off the line. She thought of the grey streaks at Abel’s temples, the piercing blue eyes, and the wicked smile. He was, by all means, a silver-fox, but she couldn’t tell his age since some people greyed earlier in life than others. It didn’t matter either way. He was good looking, and she was bordering on hungry for male companionship.

“I bet he looks good in a suit,” she said, giving in to Mr. Pillow. After a quick nap, she would be back up and ready to start plotting the romance novel of a couple, mismatched in every way, but fueled by an undeniable chemistry.

ABEL ARRIVED AT THE cottage dressed to impress in his black suit, black dress shoes, and African print tie. He rang the doorbell and tried to shield the bouquet of flowers he brought for the dining room table. Hopefully, if he were lucky, she would take pity on a bachelor by making a nice dinner and inviting him to sample the wonders of her cooking. Who was he kidding? She didn’t seem capable of boiling water. The woman couldn’t even find a pair of shoes without her first cup of coffee. How she managed to drive her car in those ridiculous bunny slippers still boggled his mind.

“Wow,” Julie said opening the door to a large bouquet of flowers, “double wow on the flowers.”

She turned in the black dress. It clung to all of her small curves, but the dress was unzipped. The satin black shoes worn on her dainty feet had just enough heel for her to kiss him without having to tiptoe. He felt his cheeks redden at having such a forward thought.

“I am,” she told him grabbing her purse and keys. “Abel, would you be so kind as to zip me up?”

For a moment, the flash of exposed skin made his mouth water, the thoughts in his brain blurred, and the desire to pepper her beautiful skin with butterfly kisses overruled his ability to operate the zipper. Instead, he moved his attention to the Kente cloth resting on the table next to her purse. Abel thought she would have wrapped her hair in the African cloth, but instead, she wore it draped about her shoulders as a wrap. The scent of her perfume made his pupils dilate as he deeply inhaled the heady aroma that filled the air with each of her movements. She passed by him smelling like a yummy snack to a man on sugar free diet. Abel found himself shocked at his very carnal, and all male reaction to Julie.

“Stop looking at me like you want to lick me, Abel Burney,” she offered as she handed him the door keys to secure the front door. “We have seafood on a skewer to dine on tonight, along with some African art pieces that are probably on the shelves at Target.”

“Actually, the curator had these shipped in from Côte d’Ivoirie,” he said, opening the car door for her. “I should know... I’m one of the sponsors.”

“A rescuer of women and an art lover,” she said. “I assume you are single. At least, I hope since you brought me flowers.”

“I am very single,” he said, checking his rear-view mirror while backing slowly out of the driveway. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils with possibilities of a make out session later on the old lumpy couch. At 47 years old, the idea of making out with her made him feel lightheaded. “Are you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Men seem to flee from all of this awesomeness bundled in a small package of confusion,” she said with a wink.

“I’m not fleeing Julie Kraztner,” he replied with a wink of his own. “I seem to be running towards the burning building, trying to get inside.”

She glanced at him sideways not sure on the meaning of getting inside. Twice he made comments that she misunderstood, but not tonight, she wanted to be clear on where he was going.

“Is that your plan Abel?” she asked looking at him through the darkened car interior. “Are you trying to get inside?”

“Not yet,” he said with a smile and another wink. The wink this time was laced with subtle innuendo that hit the seat of her underpants like a thunderbolt. Light seemed to permeate the dark fabric of the dress, illuminating a possibility that she kept in the dark for many years. Her schedule didn’t permit long-term relationships. In all honesty, it was hell on short ones. However, a year in Endurance with Mr. Sexy Grey Temples made her think differently.

She grinned all the way to the museum, which to her surprise was lit up like a Christmas tree. College students served as valets, handing out tickets when they exchanged car keys to park vehicles. A handsome young man with startling blue eyes switched out with another valet to park Abel’s car.

“Ralph, this is Julie Kratzner. She is a feature writer for Sports Complicated, and she’s renting the cottage on Dodger Lane,” he told the young man.

Julie thought it odd to give the young man so much information about her. She didn’t know him or Abel well enough yet. There would be a conversation once they were out of earshot of the young man. For all she knew, they could be partners in a scheme against the single women in town. The hesitation showed on her face and Abel eased her fears with one sentence.

“Pleasure to meet you,” she responded, giving the young man a warm smile and a handshake.

“Enjoy your evening folks,” Ralph responded, giving his father the thumbs up.

She could feel Abel’s hand in the small of her back as he escorted her through the door, as African dancers came out the back room to the sound of drums, moving in rhythm. It took everything in her not to laugh as stiff white people tried to move with the dancers matching their movements. Comical would have been the appropriate word as the dancers stopped moving, but the museum patrons did not, and a tall, attractive black woman addressed the crowd. Giving thanks to the donors and supporters, she carefully avoided naming any one group of individuals as rounds of applause sounded and the exhibit opened.

Abel led her through the building, which was larger than she expected, with the library occupying the top two floors. The display was impressive, but she admired the cases in which the items were showcased. Each container, whether open or encased in glass, appeared to be custom made. Abel noticed her admiring the craftsmanship.

“That is the handy work of Jose Primavera,” he told her. “He is a local contractor who creates displays specific for each showing. Amelie Bishop, the curator, has three major exhibits per year. This one runs through the spring.”

Julie’s attention was in watching the museum patrons, searching for potential characters in her novel. Her eyes stopped when she spotted a handsome, Hispanic male behind a column. She asked Abel, “I take it Jose is the man hiding behind the case watching her every move?”

Abel turned to see who she was talking about. He spotted Jose standing next to his daughter, Lupita, a bright young girl heart set on getting her father remarried. Leaning down, Abel’s lips were close to Julie’s ear.

“One and the same,” he whispered, sending shivers down her spine. “His daughter, Lupita, has been trying for nearly a year to get her father to start dating. She has her sights set on Amelie,” he said as his hand pressed into her back, forcing her closer to him.

“Tons, but Jose is stupid,” Abel offered, which gained Julie’s full attention. “I say he’s stupid because you see the man standing next to Amelie, that is his best friend Kenny, who is, in fact, an idiot.”

“No, he is. One conversation with him and you will say the same,” he said. “The man offered the librarian a fish dinner, but he brought her fresh fish caught down by Tommy’s pond, still on the string and still moving.”

“Exactly. Kenny has no idea how to court a woman, yet Jose asked him for help,” Abel said. “The whole Cyrano thing isn’t going to work out even with Jose’s clever artfully persistent approach. There is no way Kenny can help Jose converse with a savvy woman like Amelie.”

Julie could see that Abel was impressed with the curator, prompting her to ask, “May I ask why you didn’t go for her?”

“She is young and possibly wants children,” he said, slipping his hand into her own, “I’m 47 and looking to travel and enjoy the rest of my life, not spend my mornings changing diapers.”

“And what are you doing out tonight with me? I am still of child bearing age,” she told Abel. “What if...whatever this is sparking between us goes further and we both want something more?”

Abel appreciated the direct approach of Julie’s inquiry, prompting him to ask, “Do you know at this point that you want something more or do you desire the something now?”

“My dear, I am all about the now,” he said. “Right now, I want to get out of here and spend a few moments acquainting myself with those adorable lips that are begging me to kiss them.”

“You don’t waste any time,” she said to Abel, pulling away from his touch.

“No, I don’t,” he said. “The house is rented for a year. I either have a year or however long you are here. From the moment I held your hand on that plane, I haven’t been able get you off my mind.”

“How convenient that I am renting your house,” she said with a tinge of sarcasm.

“The company you work for rented the house,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips. “I rent homes all across Endurance to companies, individuals, and seasonal hikers.”

“For a moment there, I felt special,” she said looking at him with questions on her face, “but now I feel like you select the best of the available renters.”

“I am only trying to date you,” he said lowering her hand. “I’m rusty at this and taking a chance on you, on us, or whatever this is Julie. If you’re not interested, I will not be hurt.”

Abel smiled. “Okay, I would be crushed, but I will get over it. Eventually,” he told her.

“Well, I have never been one to crush a man’s feelings,” she told him. “Can we get out of here? It’s too many people in such a small space. I feel claustrophobic.”

“Sure thing,” he said as he led her out a door to a small garden. In the winter, the garden was a misnomer since there were only hibernating shrubs and two park benches. It was cool as a wind blew by them and she shuddered. “Are you cold?”

It was the look she gave him that made his blood boil. Desire for her shot through his lower body, the sensation nearly made him growl with deprivation from physical contact. His arm went around her shoulder, moving her thin frame closer to him as he lowered his head for a kiss. Julie stood immobile, watching the head full of thick hair with grayed temples come at her. Instinctually, she wanted to back off and run from whatever was happening between them, but the need to connect drew her to him as his soft lips connected with hers in a tentative kiss that bordered on animalistic. She clung to the expensive tuxedo he wore like a second skin. His tongue darted into her mouth and dueled with hers as she held tight to his jacket, melting into him.

“Oohh, somebody is getting lucky tonight. Work it! Work it! Do your thang, Mr. Burney,” a male voice called from somewhere in the garden.

She and Abel broke free of their kiss, both searching for the source of intrusion. She spotted Kenny, Jose’s friend, standing behind the dead bushes, pointing at them like a moron.

Chapter 4 – Staying the Course

The month of March eased into Endurance with the arrival of the largest crowd Julie had seen to date, with runners preparing for the Way Too Cool 50K Run. In her mind, there was nothing cool about running 31 miles unless she was being chased by brain munching zombies. The other thing that wasn’t cool were grown men walking around in running shorts with loose body parts either flapping left and jingling right or being snuggled so tight, it looked as if a bag of chicken parts were being held, hostage.

It still came down to a big set of nuts. This time, at least 3,000 of them had shown up to run a marathon at an elevation of 4,839 feet above sea level. She did notice a change in the town in late February, when a great number of the early, serious runners showed up to get acclimated. Even though she’d been in Endurance for well over a month, she still got winded riding her bike to the library. She was also getting winded each time Abel took her out and came back to her place.

The make out sessions were heating up, but she had reservations about the man. At 47 years old, he was indeed in prime shape and a hell of a specimen of a gent, but the whole kid thing bothered her a bit. The curator of the museum didn’t appear to be much younger than she was – although kids were not on her list of things to have in any future, alternate or present. But, she didn’t appreciate the idea of being in a relationship with a man who immediately said no. Accidents happen and as her mother often said, “Your plans and God’s plans are never the same.” The idea of fate being cruel and gifting her with an offspring by Abel Burney made her hesitant to move forward with him.

Tonight, she planned to take him to dinner. Her intention had been to pick him up at his office, but whenever she saw him, he was either in the coffee shop, the library, or at Della’s Diner. So, she called him and asked about dinner plans. This evening, she craved the succulence of a juicy burger washed down with an ice-cold beer for her supper.

“Pick me up at The Cupcakery,” he told her, trying to shield the excitement in his voice, “I should be ready by 6:30.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said, hanging up the phone while looking down at her notes. Thus far, the preliminary outline of her book was coming together and the structure of the story was sound, but she needed a few more characters to round out the novel. The No Limit Bar and Grille sounded like a great place to meet a few interesting people.

INTERESTING WAS THE last thing that came to mind as they entered the eatery on the outskirts of downtown on Miller Road. It wasn’t far from Tommy’s Park and the Farmer’s Market, which she had yet to visit. That too was in her plans once she mastered riding the bicycle. To date, she was able to ride as far as the center of town square and back, which was a pretty good start for someone who considered physical fitness walking up three flights of stairs.

The air remained cool for the month of March with runners taking advantage of what they labeled as ideal weather to get the endorphins going. Julie thought it was ideal weather to sport her sweater sets on dates with Abel. However tonight, she wanted to have a good conversation with him about kids, the future, and other topics if they planned to continue seeing each other.

Abel too enjoyed the cool weather, looking better than the burger she wanted to devour in a well-fitted pair of dark jeans, a Polo, and a snazzy zip front deep blue cardigan.

“You are going to like this place,” he told her as he slid into the passenger seat of her tiny rental, looking like the Hulk had carjacked the vehicle. “It’s more for locals, but others have found it and Saturday nights can be crowded.”

The parking lot looked like the joint was giving away free hot wings. She located a spot in the rear of the grille, then she and her hot date walked around front to receive a number and a vibrating alerter to advise them when it was time to be seated. However, Abel spotted the owner, Owen Tate. He waved at him and the blonde-haired hunk waved back, summoning them to come inside. Slowly, they headed in, skirting around revelers at the bar towards a table that Owen held for them. In the far-left corner, Abel saw Rui Conners, the history professor, and his eight-year-old daughter, Simone, engaged in an animated discussion. “With her antics, that kid keeps her father on his toes,” her date whispered in Julie’s ear as he held her chair, before taking his own seat.

A pretty young woman jaunted over, her eyes devouring Abel as she asked for their drink orders. To her surprise, when the young waitress bounced away like Tigger pumped up on bee pollen, Abel’s eyes didn’t follow her tight little bottom.

Julie cleared her throat, “I don’t get it. You are a good-looking man in your prime, the women ogle you wherever you go, but you don’t seem to notice.”

“All men care about that kind of thing,” Julie challenged him. She waited for Abel to look up. Their eyes met and held, “I’m interested to hear what makes you so different.”

“Julie, I have nothing left to prove to anyone, not even myself. Young women are for young men. Older men with younger women are trying to recapture their youth. If I have to pop a pill to be with a woman, then she is the wrong woman.”

She sighed loudly as the waitress returned with their drink orders, ready to jot down their dinner selections on her pocket pad. Julie ordered the burger with a side salad. To her surprise, Abel ordered fries and nothing more. With the food selections made, Julie needed to change the story. She wanted to get deeper and have a real conversation with Abel.

“Listen,” she said. “I really don’t know what we are doing here, but I enjoy your company. However, before we can move forward, we need to talk.”

“Fine, talk,” Abel said. He had a few things he wanted to say as well because he was tired of making out.

“The curator at the museum, Amelie, she is not much younger than I am,” Julie said. “I’m 39, granted I don’t want any children, but my plans and the Almighty’s might differ. What if...by chance...it happens?”

“It won’t from me,” Abel said, looking at her with intense blue eyes, “I can’t have any more.”

“Don’t be. It is intentional,” he said, watching her face. “After my wife divorced me and used Ralph as a meal ticket, I got snipped. Those were the worst years of my life, fighting with her to see my own son. I never wanted to go through that again, so I fixed it so I wouldn’t have to deal with such issues.”

“Abel that is horrible, on so many levels,” she said to him. “Love isn’t a once in a lifetime thing. People fall in love several times over the course of their lives and have more children.”

“I didn’t want more,” he told her. “Okay, now we have that out of the way. You don’t want any and I can’t have any, what else do you wish to discuss?”

“I want to have it with you, but I dunno. You seem to stop each time things start to heat up,” she said. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” he said laughing. “Honestly, I was actually enjoying the old-fashioned courtship of a lady. Nowadays, these young people have an app, and they pick a sex partner like they are buying a pair of shoes. You like, swipe right—you don’t like, swipe left.”

“Abel, you sound like you know a great deal about it,” she said, watching his expressions for subtle tells.

“When my son started college, I found myself very alone, so I downloaded the app and started swiping,” he said. “I got swiped out after three of those dates.”

“That memory looks good, please share,” she said, as he blushed under her gaze, “Abel, we are friends first.”

Giving in, he began. “Okay, I went out with a much younger woman, and at first, it seemed like a great deal of fun until we went back to her place,” he said frowning. “I don’t mean to brag, and I’m not, but she carried on so loud that I had to stop to make sure I wasn’t hurting her.”

“Please take into consideration, I can run ten miles and barely break a sweat. But, this young lady,” he paused to shake his head, “it was like she’d mixed her Adderall with her diet pills. She bounced all over the place and finally, I’d had enough. I gave her one of my sleep tabs and told her it was Ecstasy just to make her ass go to sleep,” he said frowning. “I know I am a horrible person for doing that, but I may be the only man who slipped a woman a Mickey to make her go to sleep, so he could get away.”

“Hell no!” Abel grumbled. “That was too much. Any man who wants to do that all night needs to see a shrink. At my age, I appreciate quality over quantity.”

She didn’t respond to what he said, just watched the subtle expressive changes on his face. Abel’s words were spilling all the endorphins he could muster about his needs, yet she hadn’t voiced her own. Truthfully, she didn’t know what she needed. Therefore, she was unable to explain what she wanted. Short term was easy. It was the long-term planning that made it difficult to open the discussion.

“No Abel, I am a love maker,” she said to him, smiling as she blushed, “I am adventurous though.”

“Be more specific,” he said. “One of my swipes said she was adventurous and wanted to peg me.”

“There is nothing funny about your date coming out the back room with a penis bigger than the one attached to my body. It was also hers...or his,” he said with his face contorted, his eyes squinted as if trying to understand the reason why the Devil likes Hell to be so warm. “I still have nightmares about that shit.”

He laughed a bit as he said, “I ran out of her front door in my drawers with my shoes in my hand, praying that no one saw me. ‘Hey look, Abel Burney is in his skivvies running down the street.’ I would have never lived it down.”

The waitress returned with their food orders and they ate in silence. Abel couldn’t take it anymore. He was beyond the making out portion. Yes, it was a refreshing change of pace, and he was an endurance runner, but he couldn’t see the finish line. The man in him craved a big win with the woman seated cross the table.

“At your place for the night,” she replied without a moment of hesitation. “I brought my toothbrush.”

DINNER TURNED TO DANCING as a live band kicked out a few country rock songs. Owen Tate came over to the table, and he spoke briefly for a few minutes before getting back to his customers. A different young lady kept her eyes on the tavern owner, watching every move he made.

“What’s their story?” Julie asked Abel since he seemed to know everyone and almost everything about the locals.

“Don’t know, truthfully,” Abel answered, looking at the young woman, “Ivy Summers is new in town.” With a quick glance in Owen’s direction, Julie noticed the stoic, yet handsome proprietor welcomed many of the patrons by name.

“No. Owen is a widower with a 4-year-old son. His wife died in an accident on Saratoga Springs Road a few years ago. That young lady,” he said gesturing to Ivy, “he recently hired to help with the seasonal crowds.”

Abel continued, “She’s protective of him. But, I don’t know if it’s going to work out for her though. Owen isn’t ready.”

Julie stared at Ivy Summers. From behind the bar counter, the sienna-colored beauty watched her boss with a fiery intensity. When a woman looked at a man “that” way, he didn’t stand a chance. Ivy was going to wear Owen Tate down until he changed course and speed, and gave her what she wanted.

Abel reached for Julie’s hand, curling warm fingers around hers. She regarded their intertwined fingers like a long-lost puzzle piece. They fit together. Swallowing, she looked up, meeting his gaze. The heat in his eyes had sparks igniting every erogenous zone in her body.

It was the way Abel asked the question that made her heart thud rapidly in her chest. Though she’d expected the question to come up at some point in their relationship, now that he asked it, she was as ready as she had ever been in her life. The realization that he wanted an answer as he stared at her face with longing in his eyes only heightened her desire for him. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned in.

“I am,” she said biting her bottom lip. Now that she’d given him an answer, she pondered his next move. Seconds later, she knew the answer. Abel’s hold on her fingers tightened.

“Check please,” he said, raising his hand high in the air and waving his credit card.

“Nope, because then you will expect me to put out,” he said, scrunching his nose.

“You are going to put out anyway because I am giving you a skills assessment exam when we get to your house,” she said.

Abel opened his wallet and began to pull out membership cards to unions, special interest groups, and the Engineering Society of America.

“It means that I am certified to handle any issue that you need handling my dear,” he said, getting to his feet. The waitress was taking too long, and he had love to make. He handed Owen the bill on his way out the door. “Put it on my tab, run my card, get it to me tomorrow.”

The man practically dragged her down the stairs, and shoved her into the passenger seat of her own car, as he sped down the road like a bat out of hell. He wasn’t going to give her a chance to change her mind. Tonight, there was love to be made.

Chapter 5 – Going the Distance

THE AROMA OF COFFEE wafted through the air making Julie sit up in the bed like she’d been given a life-changing diagnosis of renewed life. She needed to get up right away and follow the wonderful scent into the kitchen, where she would also find the wonderful man who prepared the life awakening brew. Abel Burney didn’t lie to her – the man was indeed a skilled craftsman.

Meandering down the small hallway to the kitchen, she stumbled into the walls like a new credit card holder’s arrival at a major retailer having a discounted sale. Upon her arrival at the designated fueling station of liquid eye opener, she absently filled her cup, sipping, sighing and allowing the relief to wash over her. Savoring the delights of the cup of freshly ground coffee, she opened her eyes and noticed Abel sitting at the table, watching her over the morning paper.

“You may need to seriously consider switching to decaf to lessen your dependency on morning coffee,” he said, giving her a once over.

“That would imply my dear Abel, that you believe my relationship with coffee is symbiotic,” she mumbled, “You speak as if I am unable to function without it.”

“Julie, it would be a reasonable deduction indeed, unless you always enjoy your first cup in the nude,” he said with a wry smile. “Granted, she loved the morning view.”

She looked down at herself, unashamed of her nudity in his presence. Especially considering the night before. He combed over her flesh as if he were remembering every lump, bump, and hump on her female form. A familiar tingle embraced her when she thought of their coupling. Heavy lidded eyes gazed upon him, saying more with no words than her foggy brain could manufacture. She extended his view as she brushed past him with her bare hip, giving him a nicer object to stare at when she walked away. If Abel chose to follow her back to the bedroom, it would be too early in the morning to tell such a handsome man no, let alone send him away without at least something to ponder over for the rest of the day.

“I will take that as an invitation,” he said, leaving the paper on the table and following her to the bedroom.

If the freshly ground coffee were any indication, today was getting off to a wonderful start.

THE KNICKERBOCKER CANYON Trail Run encompassed a 35 km trot allotting the participants eight and a half hours to complete the course. Julie, having practiced riding the bike most of February and March, rode out to watch the racers complete the 1/2 Marathon and partial 5K and 10K races. She snapped photos of the runners’ hard-hitting feet along with the long historic Western States Trail out to the No Hands Bridge. The shorter distance races coursed along the banks and trails of the American River. Julie rode as far as the base of the incline of K2 , stopping at the edge of Dam Hill. She couldn’t foresee how many of the runners fared in staying the course with the constant variances in surfaces, terrains, and altitudes.

Elsie Devonshire loved the articles and especially the close-up photos of the looks on the athletes’ faces as they struggled through the physical endurance required to complete the races.

“Let’s see, in April, there are a bunch of crazy people doing a 30-mile bike race nearly 2,000 miles above sea level,” she said looking at the calendar, “followed by other crazy people riding a horse for 50 miles.”

“Not nearly as fascinating as the 110-mile bike race in June, or the nutty 100-mile race for the Tervis Cup, which is also on horseback,” Julie added.

“If you do this the right way, you could be up for a Pulitzer,” Elsie told her.

“Yeah, and later today, I am working on restoring my hymen,” she said with sarcasm, “which too will never happen.”

“Julie, it is important for you to focus on staying the course on this assignment. Getting distracted is easy,” Elsie added. “You’re on to something here. I can’t wait to see the end results.

“You and me both. The last event ends in September, but I was thinking of staying to cover some of the other special activities they hold here in the fall,” she said.

“Thanks, Elsie, I won’t let you down,” Julie said before ending the call. In her heart, she knew she wouldn’t let the magazine down, but she also wasn’t so sure about how she felt about Abel and saying farewell to him at the end of the year. She scolded herself for letting him get so close so fast. It was only March. There were still nine months to go. She wasn’t sure she was going to make it without coming out scarred, marred, or her heart being charred.

THE MONTH OF MAY BREEZED in and Julie only had a rough sketch of an outline for three possible book tropes: a Cyrano, a friend to lover’s plot, and a potential fake engagement. Frustration covered her as she rode her bike over to UC Endurance to look for a class or a workshop to help her get her act together. She walked into the registrar’s office overwhelmed by all the technological steps required to sign up for a class as a non-degree seeking student.

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” she said, staring at the computer screen. Clicking the mouse, she created a username and password. Placing her glasses on the tip of her nose, Julie thumbed through the course offerings. The English class she thought she needed and wanted soon was replaced by a history course taught by one Rui Conners on Asian Civilizations in Modern Times. She clicked the link.

“Oh, are you thinking about taking Professor Conners’ course?” the pretty young black girl asked.

“He’s not one of my instructors, but I’ve heard he is really good with his students,” she said.

Julie thought she heard a hint of interest in the woman’s voice. She laid her pen on the table, shifting her body in the seat. The young lady had her full attention.

“Is that right?” She let a note of curiosity enter her tone. At her ‘tell me more’ look, a shy smile crossed the other woman’s face.

“Anyway,” she replied changing the subject. “I’m Autumn Raine, a music therapy major here at the university.” She extended a hand in greeting. “Julie, right? I’ve heard about you around town.”

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Julie Kraztner,” she said with a firm shake of their hands. Admittedly, Julie had never met a music therapist, but it sounded like a fascinating course of study. “Forgive me for being nervous, but it has been a while since I’ve been in the classroom.”

“You know what?’ Autumn said, “I think Rui has office hours today. I am headed that way. Come on, I will point you in the right direction.”

The Humanities building was only across the quad as they walked up the two flights of stairs to the history wing. Professor Connors was an attractive man of Asian descent, with a goatee that gave him a certain finesse. Attractive, yet aloof.

Introductions made, it didn’t escape Julie’s notice that Rui Conners held Autumn’s hand longer than necessary. The little music major had been correct about the professor. He took his time explaining the course load, expectations, and the end of class project. It sounded fascinating to Julie, but she was more interested in the spark between the student and the teacher. A forbidden affair. A flash of information shared with her by Abel popped into her head: Endurance is the single dad capital of California. Was the Professor a single dad, too?

“Professor, this sounds like it is going to be a great class,” Julie said, shaking his hand. “I will work on my enrollment and will see you in class.” A perfect book title popped into her head.

Julie laughed as she rode her bike towards the center of town, stopping at The Cupcakery for a key lime cupcake and a few Snickerdoodles for Abel. He was coming over later that night, and said he wanted to talk. Almost seven months were left on her contract in Endurance. However, the new concern was if she could leave the man she’d fallen in love with, Abel Burney.

Chapter 6 – A Walk Through Endurance

Abel sat in the driveway of the old cottage he and his son once called home. Lately, he’d been staying here so often, it was beginning to feel that way again. He also started to feel another way again as well. Abel felt the start of love. It wasn’t necessarily the start of love since he was waist deep and ass high in processing the steady stream of emotions generated by the little wisp of a woman. She had him wrapped around her finger without barely trying. The beauty of the relationship hinged on Julie’s lack of requirements from him. No demands. No mandates. She just wanted to exist in the same time and space, sharing the moments with him.

She’d backed off on the coffee consumption in the past five months, drinking more green teas, exercising, and reducing the amount of red meat she ate. He never considered himself a health freak, but living in a town focused on physical fitness did require a few adjustments. Julie adjusted well, even signing up for a class at the University. He tooted the horn when she rode up the drive on the bike he left at the house for renters. He was glad that she was making good use of it.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Abel said, exiting the expensive luxury sedan he loved to drive.

“Come on in. I have a roast in the oven, and I’ll make us some lemonade,” she told him, parking the bike on the porch.

Abel took a seat on the old couch that had become Julie’s favorite place to take a nap. On occasion, he would join her on the couch, on lazy Sunday afternoons as he read and she dozed. It was a comfortable friendship, or relationship, that had blossomed into what he felt had become meaningful, at least to him.

“Julie, I think, and please hear me out,” he began to say, holding the tips of her fingers into his hand, “we go back and forth from this cottage to my home. I would like us to reside in one place under one roof.”

“Abel, that’s sweet, but the company paid for this house for a year,” she told him. “Plus, I like my independence.”

“I love our independence as well, but I like waking up with you even more,” he said, sliding off the couch to one knee.

“Propose?” she repeated, narrowing her eyes. “You are asking me to marry you?’

“I don’t know what to say,” she said, pulling her hand away and clutching at the imaginary pearls she wasn’t wearing.

“Say yes,” he told her. “Julie, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life waking up next to you, seeing you stumble through the kitchen in the morning searching for hot coffee to drink, butt naked and confused. I love our Sunday afternoons, our Friday nights, and our Wednesday walks through Endurance. Marry me. Make me whole again.”

Julie gulped. Marriage. To Abel. She’d never considered marriage before, let alone settling down. Her life consisted of airplane rides, interviews, and challenging herself to learn new things. Until now, she hadn’t realized that she was tired of all the traveling. This assignment had not been what she expected, and quite honestly, one that she dreaded with every fiber of her being. But since arriving in Endurance, a new calm had entered the life she led. A nice calm. A reduced caffeine free calm sated in a bowl of happiness. A happiness that radiated through every solitary word she wrote on her screen and strung together to make beautiful sentences. Love got her to this point, and Abel was the band leader to a new group of notes that challenged the out of date tunes that used to play in her head.

Mentally, Julie was the sharpest than she’d been in years. Physically, she was more fit. Her diet had greatly improved, and true happiness had finally arrived in her life. More importantly, waking up next to Abel was fantastic. Her lips moved, giving him the correct answer, he sought.

He sprang to his feet embracing her and showered her face with kisses. He loved his Julie. Happiness had come to him at last, and he had someone to share his life. The moment his hand touched hers on the plane, he knew a connection was shared between them. The smiles were often, and the love strong. More importantly, he could have a conversation with her on matters from the mundane to the ethereal. She was his partner, his friend, his lover. Abel was old enough to realize the shortfalls in life but young enough at heart to still take chances.

Julie took a chance with him, and he was prepared and ready to take every risk needed for a long term of happiness. Over pot roast and seasoned potatoes, they planned a life together. The wedding would be small with her brother giving her away. Her mother would come to town, and her few friends would comprise the wedding party. An autumn wedding was what she wanted.

“COME ON MRS. BURNEY,” Abel called to her from the large front porch of their home nestled behind the First Presbyterian Church.

“Stop rushing me husband,” she said, putting on her walking shoes. It was Saturday afternoon and a lovely day for a stroll through the town square.

Hand in hand, they left the house with the camera hanging about her neck. Riders were in town as well as horsemen preparing for the Fall Race. Elsie Devonshire had given her a permanent assignment in Endurance to cover the annual events in the town. Each year would have a different feel, and each race a different winner. It was her job to cover them all.

In between writing for Sports Complicated, she also created fresh content on festivals in the area reaching out into Sacramento, and as far as the San Francisco Bay. She loved her job and her life with a man who held her hand months ago on a bumpy plane ride to cover events she had no interest in. Today, she was high on the list of journalists and listed amongst the other residents as local experts. She was far from an expert but always asked great questions, which yielded great interviews that in turn, produced great human-interest stories.

Endurance was her new home. She loved the town, the people and all the quirks of living here. More importantly, she loved the weekly walks through the town.

Down the hill they walked, stopping into The Cupcakery for a cookie and cupcake, saying hello to Dr. Winter and Sherron Baker, the stuttering baker. In the corner sat Ivy Summers, the new helper at No Limit Bar and Grille, owned by Owen Tate. They passed by the Endurance Museum, waving to Amelie Bishop and Jose Primavera as they worked on the Aztec exhibit stands. On the second floor in the library, Professor Rui Conners sat with his daughter Simone in the children’s section. In a cubicle close by, she noticed, Autumn Raine sporting a pair of headphones as she stole glances at Rui, with a warm smile on her face.

“Hey Abel, hiya Julie,” was the normal greeting they received when people saw them together either riding their bikes or strolling through town. Julie wasn’t quite ready to learn how to play golf, much to Abel’s dismay. He really wanted to target women golfers, and possibly hold a golf tournament in the next few years. It would be a feather in his cap to have his wife as part of the spearheading team.

However, that would be later. His mind was on the present. A new movie was on the agenda for the evening, and Julie loved a good romantic comedy. He wanted to see a movie where things were blown up, but much like life, marriage was loaded with compromises. Julie selected a movie from the shelf with two happy faced people and a dog. He knew it was going to be the movie she selected. Abel frowned, not bothering to hide his distaste at her selection, but it was her night to choose.

“Abel, maybe we can make a compromise,” Julie offered, putting the movie down and selecting another one equally as sappy.

“This horrible movie is going to be a compromise,” he whispered in her ear as he swiped his library card.

Julie loved when Abel whispered in her ear. It sent shivers down her spine and reminded her of the gifted, skilled, highly trained and motivated endurance runner. She’d learn to enjoy the intervals of love they often took on lazy days to enjoy their intimate moments. When she didn’t have the energy to keep pace with him, his subtle art of persistence always paid off in the end, with Julie managing to stay the course while going the distance with her handsome, silver fox.

“You are going to love this movie just as much as you love me,” she said, giving him a light squeeze.

Abel and Julie checked out a movie for Saturday night viewing, plus a few books to read before they headed home. These days, regardless of the weather, she loved getting out with her husband, and taking a weekly walk through Endurance.