Red Bridge

When grumpy, muscled-up artist Bennett Bishop bothers to speak, it’s usually to say something you’re not ready to hear. When he first speaks to Norah Ellis, a rambling runaway bride who hitchhikes a ride from him, it’s to tell her to get out of his truck and walk because she’s a pain in the a-s-s. By appearance, Norah Ellis is a fancy fashionista who’s spent the last several years living the good life in the city—expensive apartments, highbrow events, and a fiancé with wealth and good looks. The only problem is that she didn’t choose any of it for herself.

There are ghosts at every corner. In the stolen kisses while I waitressed at the diner, in the town festivals in the square, in the many jokes about Betty Bagley and her pie at the Fall Farmer’s Market, and in countless nights spent watching Clay make drinks with that handsome smile of his plastered on his face while I sat on a stool at the bar. It should all feel familiar and comforting, and yet, it makes it hard for the person I am now to breathe at all.