Whispered Prayers of a Girl

Chapter 1

Gwendolyn

“It’s such a shame what happened.”

“They say it left him a bit… unhinged.”

“Well, I can’t really say I’m surprised. I bet it would leave you a bit rattled too.”

“Not to mention the scars. You know he has to remember what happened every time he sees them.”

“That’s why he only comes to town once every couple of months.”

“It’s such a shame, and a waste.”

I put the can of cherry filling in my shopping cart and peek around the corner of the shelf. Three old ladies are at the end of the next aisle over, same position as me—sneaking around the end of their own shelves—whispering behind their hands. With the three of them in the way, I can’t see who they’re talking about. I step out further to try to get a look, but all I see is the backside of a man wearing a black-and-gray plaid shirt rounding the corner several aisles over.

I shake my head, putting the whispers and my curiosity behind me. It’s not my business to know what or who they’re talking about. The last thing I want is to get caught up in rumors.

I walk the aisles, glad to know this small market has all the ingredients I need for my mom’s cherry-apple pie recipe. Coming from a big city and having anything and everything just a few miles away, you’d think we’d have a hard time adjusting, but it’s been just the opposite. The town may be small, but it has all the essentials we need to live.

Simple is why we moved here. Simple is what we need. Simple is hopefully what will make us all happy again.

And the people have been absolutely amazing and very supportive, too.

I glance down at my watch, surprised to see I’ve been gone for a couple hours already. Mrs. Tanner has been great the few times I’ve needed to run errands and the kids didn’t want to come with me, but I refuse to take advantage of her.

I grab a bag each of Starbursts and York Peppermint Patties, the kids’ favorites, at the end of the checkout lane, then start unloading my cart.

“Hey there, Gwen. How’re you today?” the clerk asks while sliding items under the scanner.

I smile at the older man. “I’m doing good, Jeremy, thank you. How’s Mrs. Peggy doing?”

“She’s doing better. Her hip’s still sore from the fall, but she’s almost as good as new.”

“That’s good to hear.” I grab a loaded paper bag and put it my cart. “She needs to be careful going up and down those steps.”

“I’ve told her that. And as much as she hates to admit it, she’s going on eighty. She’s refused a ramp up until now, but I’ve told her she has no choice in the matter anymore. My son, Benny, is coming over next week to help me build one.”

Last week, while I was leaving the school, which happens to be right across the street from the market, I saw Jeremy rushing to his car. The next day, the talk around town was that his mother fell while walking up the steps to her house. She was lucky to only have received a sore hip and a couple bruises.

“How are the kids liking their holiday?” Jeremy asks.

I blow a few strands of hair out of my face. “Loving it, actually. Especially Daniel.” I laugh. “It gives him more time on the video game. I have to really watch his time on the thing or he’d never get off.”

He nods and chuckles. “Bring them to the house next week. Mom’s been asking about them.”

I smile. “I will.”

Jeremy and his mom, Mrs. Peggy, have been wonderful since we’ve moved to Catalina’s Valley, Cat’s Valley to the ones who live here, a little over three months ago. Jeremy was my correspondent when I was looking for a place to rent. Since the teacher I replaced at the school was moving as well, her rented house became available, which happens to be owned by Mrs. Peggy. Over coffee one day, Mrs. Peggy told me Jeremy’s only left her house once to go live on his own. It was twenty years ago when he met and married the love of his life, only for her to

die a year later from a sudden aneurysm. She had just given birth to Benny six months prior. He moved back home to grieve and never left.

“That’s going to be $68.17,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts.

I whip my purse up on the belt and dig around inside for my wallet. I slide my phone, a package of tissues, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, and a nail grooming case to the side, but can’t find the darn thing.

I grimace when I remember I left it on the counter at home when I paid my phone bill earlier this morning.

“Damn it,” I mutter. “I’m so sorry, Jeremy. My wallet is still on the counter at home. Can I leave and come right back with it?”

“That’s fine. I’ll just push your cart to the side and—”

“Tack it on to mine,” a deep voice says from behind me.

I look at Jeremy, shocked by the generous offer. He’s not looking at me though, but at the person standing behind me. I turn to thank the stranger, but the words get stuck in my throat as soon as I see him. He’s the man the old ladies were talking about. I know it from the shirt he’s wearing.

He doesn’t look at me as he puts his items on the belt. All I can see is the left side of his face. He has dark brown hair, slightly longer on the top, and his lower face is covered with bristly hair. It’s not long, but definitely longer than just a few days’ worth of growth. He has to be over six feet, and I can tell by the bulges in his forearms that he’s ripped with muscles. I feel so tiny compared to him.

I turn to Jeremy, who looks just as surprised as me, then back to the man.

“I appreciate the offer, but you don’t need to do that, Mr.…” I trail off, hoping he’ll supply his name. When he doesn’t, I continue, undeterred. “I don’t live far from here. It’ll only take me a few minutes.”