Hannah cruised down the trail at a decent pace, remnants of snow speckling the path and forest. It was cold out and fog escaped her lungs every time she exhaled, but it was beautiful. Crisp. Cold. Quiet. And she saw signs that all of that was about to change.

The cold didn’t have the same bite it once did. More animals scurried about. The grass underneath the patches of snow had began to turn green. It was well into March now, and Hannah looked forward to seeing the crocus flowers, newly leafed aspens, and baby deer darting around.

In February, at the gentle encouragement of her running friends, she’d signed up for the High Peaks 100. They told her she was doing everything right, that she was ready to make the commitment and “go the distance.” They reminded her that even if something went wrong, and sometimes things went wrong, it was better to have guaranteed entry to the race and not need it, than to feel ready and then have the race fill up.

It hadn’t been easy, signing up. It made her realize how cavalier she’d been the first time. Now, she knew what she was getting into. But, as Johnny and her other running buddies told her, she was ready to take the plunge. She’d been following the training regime. She’d done her best to focus on what felt right, on trusting her body rather than forcing it to adhere to some regime. She’d let herself enjoy the runs and appreciate the gorgeous scenery and the unpredictable mountain rains, snows, winds, and vastly varying temperatures that came with Colorado winters. She’d learned to appreciate the camaraderie of others who knew the sport, and now ran with them often, usually on Saturdays. She’d let herself remember why she was doing this, focusing more on the process than the goal, but still keeping the goal in mind.

She’d even skipped runs, on days when something ached or she felt the kind of fatigue that wasn’t her typical fatigue. She was beginning to better understand her different states of fatigue—which were normal and went along with high weekly mileage, and which were problematic and required rest.

She could tell that her pace was slower than last year. She struggled more with that, knowing it would impact her race, but she stuck with her new system and trusted that it would do the job. And hopefully it would. There were no guarantees, but she was willing to try. At the very least, she would have fun and enjoy the experience more this time. And if she didn’t finish this year, there was always next year. Her friends and coworkers would applaud her efforts regardless of her results.

Cain would drift into her thoughts now and again. How could he not? He’d inspired her new outlook on running and racing, and she had him to thank for any success she’d had so far in training. But she didn’t let herself linger on much more than feeling gratitude toward him, and hoping he was doing okay. For all she knew, he was home by now. It had been almost six months since he’d left. Hopefully, he was back in the place he loved, backpacking and doing his thing, maybe with a woman who could better navigate relationships than Hannah could.

Yeah, that hurt. Thinking about Cain with another woman.

But she could hardly judge Cain for moving on. She had. She’d been seeing Johnny, a guy who dropped into their ultrarunning group now and again, for a few weeks now. He had running sponsors and did multiple ultras every year, and ran more than anyone she’d ever met. He lived for ultras, and traveled all over the world to do them. Hannah was inspired by him, and they even ran together on his “rest” days—i.e. the days he just ran for recovery and could slow down to her pace.

Hannah liked him. Johnny was good company and he’d been supportive of her High Peaks goal. More importantly, she liked him because he demanded nothing from her. The sex wasn’t like it was with Cain, but it was good enough to fill the need. And Johnny wasn’t some tortured soul she needed to figure out. She didn’t care if Johnny called or didn’t call, and she liked it that way.

This was the kind of relationship she was cut out for.

Hannah headed back home and jumped in the shower. She was starving for Lucy’s.

When Hannah opened the door to Lucy’s, Summer was already inside the packed waiting area, her strawberry blonde hair hidden under a pink sweater cap with a big ball at the top.

“How’ve you been?” Hannah asked Summer after they hugged. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Work has been crazy,” Summer said. “I figured the New Year would get me a few more clients, but it’s like everyone and their brother wants nutrition and wellness coaching this year.”

“Sounds like a good problem to have. Building a clientele isn’t easy for new coaches.”

Summer got an appreciative look on her face. “Thank you for spreading the word at Athena. I got two new clients through you. You didn’t have to do that.”

Hannah shrugged. “I was happy to. The ladies at Athena are your target market. When you work at a fitness company, you have to represent the brand, especially if you deal with clients. I’d hire you myself, but I’m actually doing really well.”

“So training for High Peaks is going good?”

“It’s going great.”

After they got seated, their waitress brought their lattes and took their brunch order.

“Are you still seeing that ultra guy?” Summer asked.

“Johnny. Yeah.” Hannah shrugged again. “He’s great. He’s my speed, you know? And I’m not talking about running.”

Summer smiled. “I know you aren’t.” Her expression turned more tentative. “You haven’t heard anything from Cain?”

Hannah hesitated. “I blocked his email address, so…”

“Yeah, but you’d think he’d call or something. He must be home by now.”

“Probably. But he would never call, not after I stopped responding. To be honest, I think he wanted out and the deployment gave him an excuse.”

Summer shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense, Hannah. Things seemed good until then. Plus, if he wanted out, why email you at all?”

“I have no idea. I’m the relationship idiot, remember?”

“Okay, so you just put him out of his misery by blocking him.” Summer wrinkled her freckled nose in jest.

Hannah laughed. “Well, look who’s feeling cheeky today.”

Summer reddened a little. “I wish I were cheeky. Maybe I wouldn’t be single if I were cheeky.”

Hannah’s smiled faded. “Single? What happened with Ollie the Cute Climber?”

Summer heaved a sigh. “He’s no longer.”

“Why? Things were going well, right?”

“That’s what I thought. We never fought, we had fun. Apparently, I was too nice again. He didn’t say that, but he didn’t have to. I figured it out on my own this time when he kept going on about how I’m a great girl and I deserve more. It got to the point where he kept wanting me to come to his house, but he would never come to mine. I mean, I didn’t mind, his place is nicer than mine, so I figured it wasn’t a big deal. But then he would text all the time, instead of picking up the phone. I hate that.”

“Did you ask him to call you instead?”

“I did. He said he would try. He called once and then went right back to texting. Just when I was about to complain, he just stopped calling.” She shook her head. “And what’s this ‘I’ll try’ stuff? I wanted to go all Yoda on him and say do it or don’t do it, there is no try.”

Hannah laughed at that. “You should have.”

“Yeah, but then he’d just say I was being difficult.”

“Guys always say that when you don’t play by their rules.”

“So I’m damned either way. If I play along, I’m too nice. If I don’t, I’m too difficult.” Summer rolled her eyes. “God, I get so tired of this.”

“I know. It’s all bullshit. That’s why I like Johnny. No drama. When he’s in town, we hang out. When he’s not, I get time to myself.”

Their server arrived with Summer’s veggie Benedict and Hannah’s bacon-and-cheese omelette with a side of three pancakes. Hannah, starving as usual during training, dug in.

“But guys want to be with you,” Summer said, cutting into her Benedict. “You dump them, not the other way around. I’m tired of things going well, and then guys just… lose interest.” She took a bite.

“Cain lost interest,” Hannah said, taking a big bite of her omelette before pouring syrup over her pancakes.

Summer shook her head. “I’m not convinced of that. But even if he did, that’s one out of how many?”

Hannah swallowed before answering. “We have the same problem, Summer, just from different perspectives. I push men away because they crowd me or don’t understand me, and men push you away because… I don’t know why, actually. To me, you’re beautiful and sweet and you have that nurturing thing. Guys should be lining up to date you.”

Summer smiled at that. “That’s so nice of you.”

“It’s not nice. It’s the truth.” She shoved a forkful of pancakes into her mouth.

“What would you have done?” Summer asked her. “If a guy only wanted to go to his place or kept texting when you said you preferred a phone call?”

Hannah thought about that as she finished chewing. “I’d be fine with his place. I don’t like men in my space, although I did make an exception for Dr. Grizzly…” She rolled her eyes. “We’re different people, you and I, so my advice is no good to you.”

“What about the texting?”

“I like texting. Talking on the phone annoys me. But you’re totally reasonable to want phone calls. A lot of women want that, and a lot of guys do too. There were times when Cain called, and it was the perfect thing. A text wouldn’t have been enough.” She hated admitting that. But it was the truth. Cain was the only man whose call she longed to take. Too bad he hadn’t felt the same way. “With this guy, if he keeps texting you and you keep texting back, then he assumes you’re okay with it and keeps doing it. But if you stop responding, then he has no choice but to call you.”

“What if he doesn’t call?”

“Then you know he’s not for you… because he couldn’t give you what you needed.”

Summer stared at Hannah. “Is that why you blocked Cain’s emails? Because they weren’t what you needed?”

Hannah felt her face grow hot. She hesitated for a moment, then forked another bite of her omelette. “Yes,” she said quietly. She’d never admitted that before. Not to anyone. Not even to herself.

“And you were willing to lose him.”

“I’d already lost him,” Hannah said, doing her best to dispel the flood of powerful feelings that threatened. “But yes. I was. I tried, you know?”

Summer nodded. “You did.”

After they finished their meals and hugged each other goodbye, Hannah went to run some errands in town and pick up a few groceries before heading back home again. She looked forward to turning on the fireplace, cooking a good meal, and then snuggling into her chair and reading for the rest of the night.

When she pulled into her neighborhood, she noticed a vehicle parked in front of her house. She rolled her eyes. It bugged her when people did that. But she quickly realized that the vehicle was a black Dodge Ram. And that a burly, dark-haired man sat on her porch, waiting for her.

Cain.