Martin's Miracle Match : A Wild Rose Ridge Novella
By Alyssa Schwarz
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Chapter 1
The Oreos were a lie.
Everyone knew to never step foot in a grocery store on an empty stomach. That’s where the Mars Bars and cheese puffs and Rocky Road ice cream got you. Sugar, carbs, and chocolate. National enemies number one, two, and three, according to Martin’s personal trainer. It didn’t matter if they tasted like homemade brownies after two weeks of reconnaissance flights over Taiwan.
Sugar was sugar.
“Surely, Oreos don’t count as real chocolate.” He scanned the ingredients list, pausing on names like thiamine mononitrate and artificial flavoring. Neither he nor the other pilots had given a thought to what the government put in their MREs when stationed at sea for months at a time. Especially when it was that or Sergeant Sauerkraut’s Salisbury steak on Tuesdays.
Talk about mystery ingredients…
He tossed the package into his shopping cart, the blue and white label like an uninvited houseguest to the party of quinoa, frozen chicken thighs, and kale so crunchy it could easily survive a carton of ice cream or two if he were really feeling rebellious.
“Better stick to just the cookies this time.” The Oreos might not be able to fix his problems, but they’d be a welcome distraction.
A jolt of pain ran up his leg, forcing him to stop and rub the line of scar tissue above his right knee. Two long days of flight checks followed by a weekend of helping Pastor Chandler with the youth group campout had probably been a tad too much. But only Scrooge could’ve said no to a bunch of Christ-hungry kids.
A short mindfulness meditation was all it took to bring the pain and the memories to a dull ache. He breathed in a deep breath, the smell of fried chicken from the grocer’s deli making his stomach rumble.
“Just stick to the items on the list.”
The grocery list written on the back of a Wild Air Tours brochure crinkled in his hand as he mentally crossed things off:
Quinoa
Chicken
Lacinato Kale
He skipped to the bottom, where someone had scrawled two more additional items beneath the protein bars and Greek yogurt: Decaf coffee and a wife for Martin.
Martin shook his head and chuckled before sliding the list back into his jeans pocket. The only downside to his friend and business partner having met the love of his life was the constant and highly conspicuous interest in his lack of a relationship status.
“And Matt thought the town meddling mothers were bad.”
Leaning against the cart for support, he wheeled around a display of old St. Patrick’s Day candies on sale, the gold coins and green foil-wrapped chocolates crying out for someone (other than him) to rescue them.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate his friend’s support. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about what it would be like to have someone to love and be loved by in return. A person to wake up next to, day in and day out, knowing that no matter what, they’d accept you, scars and all. For better or for worse. Only most people didn’t dream of starting right out of the gate with the for worse bit.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate you saving my life and all, God. It’s just…” He shook his head and pocketed the list. Even praying for his leg to heal after all this time seemed like he was being ungrateful. Which he wasn’t.
Only…
An older gentleman walked ahead of him down the dried goods aisle. Martin waited to see if he needed help getting down a box of bran cereal from the top shelf before redirecting toward the coffee section. A bag of Swiss decaffeinated beans went in the cart for Matt along with a bag of whole-bean breakfast blend.
The innocent faces of Peruvian children smiled back at him, promising to donate a dollar for every bag purchased.
“Okay, God. I get the picture.” Who was he to complain about an overly caring friend and a sore knee? He had a roof over his head, food to eat, and a team of doctors who’d managed to save the leg entirely with a few dozen pins and plates. He could have it a lot worse.
And speaking of friends, there were a lot more people other than himself who could use the prayers.
“Hey, God. It’s me again.” In went the box of protein nut bars on the way to the vitamin section. His doctors might frown at the unfilled prescriptions, but there was more than one way to heal a body than with chemicals and medication.
“Matt is thinking about proposing to Kimmie. He showed me the ring and everything. He wouldn’t say as much, but he’s nervous she’ll think it’s too soon and say no.” Like that would ever happen, those two were closer than grease on a well-lubricated propeller assembly. “I know she loves him. He knows she loves him. Anyone with eyes can see they’re perfect for one another. But he might need your help popping the question.”
A woman with white hair piled atop her head gave him a curious glance over loaves of white bread and sourdough. He didn’t miss the way her gaze dropped to his uneven gait, followed by the familiar pinch of her eyebrows in pity.
Dipping his head, he smiled back, relaxing the concern from her face like a well-rehearsed preflight check. After selecting a bag of blueberry bagels, she shuffled back toward the vegetable crisper, where an older man who must’ve been her husband greeted her with a smile.
One couldn’t help but watch with a heavy exhale.
“While I’ve got your attention, God, I wouldn’t mind eventually finding someone and settling down. All in your timing, of course.”
The couple disappeared around the corner with their bagels and happiness.
Martin blinked and shook his head.
This was silly.
Here he was about to go to God like Harriet Smith asking Emma Woodhouse to set her up with Mr. Elton. Thank you Nat for that movie reference, by the way. The joys of growing up with two older sisters, he supposed. Too bad the check box “can quote Jane Austen” didn’t show up as an option on the dating apps. And while he was at it, he might as well ask for a leg that didn’t cramp after half a day working on plane engines or prevent him from joining in the Christmas beach volleyball game every December.
Not that he wouldn’t mind if God dropped a tall, blonde, small-town girl with blue eyes and a love for homeopathic remedies right in front of him. But in his experience, God didn’t work like that.
A vending machine, God was not. Which was probably a good thing as most of those were only filled with more sugar and carbs.
Matt reached for a bottle of fish oils when a slender arm slipped through his.
The pills clattered to the ground as he swung around to a flurry of golden curls and vanilla. Eyes like the Pacific stared up at him, enough to stop a man’s heart and resuscitate him all with one look.
“There you are, honey. I thought you said you’d wait for me by the self-checkout, but when I turned around you were already gone.”
Mouth dropping, he managed to look up from the petite figure long enough to see a group of three women staring at them from the dairy section. He might’ve only lived in Wild Rose Ridge for two years, but everyone knew Darlene Coleman, Betty Weaver, and Marla Mavis. And any self-respecting single knew to steer clear of them and the rest of the town matchmakers whenever possible.
The woman’s grip tightened around his bicep, and again, he looked down at those widened eyes the color of a blue-bird sky. Except she was anything but calm. A natural surge of protectiveness welled inside him for the perfect stranger, not unlike the photo of the Peruvian orphans.
Relaxing his arm, he pasted on what he hoped was a convincing, and large enough, grin to be seen across the store. “Sorry about that,” he said, falling into the role of the doting boyfriend. “I remembered you mentioning a tickle in your throat yesterday and figured I’d pick up some vitamin C and zinc.”
Was that a hint of gratitude in her sigh? “What would I do without you? We should probably get some elderberry and peppermint tea as well, just in case.” She angled them toward the vitamin wall and whispered behind her arm as she retrieved a bottle of purple gummies. “Are they still watching?”
He tilted his head toward the supplements, pretending to inspect the labels as he glanced down the empty aisle. “Looks like the coast is all clear.”
“Thank God. You’re a real lifesaver.” The woman released a heavy breath and tossed her head back.
He hadn’t noticed how long her hair was before, but it nearly reached the middle of her back and gave off a fresh wave of vanilla when she moved. The open neck of her ivory shirt revealed a delicate collar bone which transitioned up to an equally elegant neck and jaw. Perfectly pink lips stood out against flawless skin, which brought him back to those eyes.
Martin swallowed the odd lump in his throat as he gave her back her arm. “It was my pleasure. This was the most fun I’ve had at a grocery store in a long time.” He’d set the bar pretty low, but he had a feeling he’d be comparing all future trips to today’s for quite some time.
Her pale eyebrows drew together, marring her perfect forehead. “Look, I'm really sorry about that. It’s just those women seem to be everywhere lately. Mind, I don’t want to be single forever, but I can’t handle another blind setup or the constant intrusions on my personal life. You know?”
In fact, he could. Matt’s scribbled joke came to mind, along with his friend’s uninvited attempts to set him up with one of Kimmie’s friends.
“I’ll gladly be your scapegoat any day. Us singles have to stick together if we ever hope to survive.”
“Exactly.” She stopped wringing the handle of her shopping basket long enough to replace the bottle of elderberry supplements back on the shelf. “I’ll remember that next time I find myself cornered near the produce section.”
“You do that.” He dipped his head with a chuckle. “My name’s Martin, by the way. Might come in handy next time to know each other’s names.”
“A real-life hero and smart. I like it.” She held out a hand which he gladly shook. “I’m Angela.”
Of course, she was. Only an angel could make him forget about his pain the past few minutes. Another smile, and the dull ache all but vanished, almost like an answer to his earlier prayers.
“Well, I’d better be going. Don’t want to be late getting back to work.”
I’ll say. All those miracles to check off of Heaven’s to-do list.
He gave her a tiny wave as she disappeared in the same direction as before, taking a little piece of him with her. He should’ve gotten her number or at least asked for her last name. Wild Rose Ridge was a small town, but not small enough to assume she was the only Angela with blonde hair and a magical smile. Then again, a girl like that deserved far more than a disabled pilot who couldn’t fly.
Hero or not.
Frowning at his grocery list, he tore a little tab next to the last two items. Matt had meant it as a joke, he knew that. So why did Martin have the strange feeling that he’d just found the woman of his dreams on aisle four?