Lynn thought putting distance between herself and her mother was healthy. Then she met Greg. He not only understands the meaning of running away from his problems, he's about to give her a painful lesson on the subject.
Runaway Hearts
Lynn swallowed the last sip from the water bottle she’d propped beside her on the seat of her truck, and perused the housing she’d been promised upon taking the job. Small, square, and beige, the cluster of houses appeared exactly alike. No one stirred in any of the tiny yards, only a pair of jeans hanging on a clothesline proved this was not a ghost town. She finally spotted a two-story, adobe building across the street from a small food market, and dilapidated gas station, and decided she’d found Desert Rock Boarding School.
The name was written in both English and Navajo, and she wondered if she’d ever learn to pronounce the Native American version.
After parking her truck in front of the adobe building, Lynn took a deep breath, and let her body adjust to the stillness. The sensation was odd after jostling over miles of rutted roads.
She stared at the doorway for a moment, mustering up the nerve to go inside. She’d arrived here and might as well see how far over her head she was.
Though it wasn’t noon yet, the desert heat already pushed ninety-five degrees. She wiped her perspiring palms on her skirt and lifted her thick copper hair off her neck, as she studied her reflection in the school’s glass doors.
Reaching for the door, she lost her balance when someone inside the building pushed on the door at the same time, causing her to flail in an effort not to land on the ground.
“I’m sorry,” a man said, grabbing her arm and righting her before she landed in the dirt.
She gasped, and her cheeks heated, as she stared into the richest, chestnut-brown eyes she’d ever seen. Her first day and already she’d managed to make a fool of herself.