Page 96 of Winning Winnie’s Hand

After all the comments about his car, Winnie absolutely deserved his teasing. But as she stared down at the boots, the pink, yellow, and orange contrasting harshly with her classy black raincoat and dark blue jeans, she shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I can’t be seen like this.”

She made to open the car to switch back to her own boots, but Matthew cut her off, wrapping his fingers around her hand, and pulling her across the lot.

“Come on, you muppet,” he said with a laugh. “No one cares what they look like but you.”

She would have protested, but his hand around hers had rendered her completely senseless.

As soon as they’d crossed the parking lot and tramped through the worst of the mud, he released her, but the warmth around her remained.

Fortunately, the rain boots she now wore distracted her enough from the fact that Matthew Wintour had just held her hand.

“How do you even walk in these?” she asked.

She stepped awkwardly in them, feeling as if she wore snowshoes.

Matthew looked down at her. “How long has it been since you’ve not worn heels?”

“Does being barefoot count?”

“No.”

“Then I can’t remember.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, seriously,” she said. “I can’t remember. Maybe when I was riding horses?”

“A decade ago?”

“Probably.”

He shook his head. “Well, just go slower until you get the hang of it.”

It took longer than she cared to admit, but eventually, Winnie was finally able to step more naturally.

“There you go,” Matthew said beside her. “Now you’ve learned not to trudge, we’ll reach the top of the cove before nightfall.”

Winnie ignored his teasing, and the two of them continued down the quiet road as she took in the sights around her.

It was a gorgeous area, filled with massive, towering trees, full green leaves, and a small river that trickled gently beside the road. They crossed by a few people who nodded their heads in greeting, most of them walking small dogs who stopped to sniff at every branch, tree trunk, and spare rock on their path.

She and Matthew fell into a comfortable silence, and it continued as they reached a small café off the side of the road. They ate their breakfast—scones and hot chocolates—on the small, white tea tables set up with sunshades atop, as Winnie looked around her in amazement.

Everything was just so quiet. In New York, cars constantly honked, police sirens whirred, and crosswalk signals incessantly beeped. If people spoke, it was only on their phones, eyes focused straight ahead or on the sidewalk before them.

Here? Here, not a phone was in sight as the people sat on their small tables outside, quietly murmuring their conversations. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the tops of the trees, and even the water softly trickled instead of raged as it trailed down its path.

That near reverence continued as they left the café behind, following along a tan-colored pathway lined on both its sides with grass, thick, full, and rich.

Most people whom they passed by along the way tipped their heads in greeting, their dogs as quiet as the owners. Others greeted a soft, “Hiya,” or “All right?” before continuing on their way in further peaceful silence.

If she tried to say hello to even one stranger in New York she’d either be ignored or stared at like she was crazy.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about how friendly everyone was here, but as the cool air kissed her cheeks and the green and gray atmosphere filled her soul with a peace she hadn’t known to exist since she was a child, she had to admit, she could get used to it.

“You’re not thinking about work, are you?”