Finding You (Chikalu Falls, #1)

by Lena Hendrix

But in one package in November, I got the letter that saved my life.

For six years, I’d carried that letter with me. After the bombing, it was torn and stained with my blood, and you could hardly read it now, but it was with me.

In Norse mythology, Valkyrie were female goddesses who spread their wings and flew over the battlefield, choosing who lived and who died in battle. Warriors chosen by the Valkyrie died with honor and were then taken to the hall of Valhalla in the afterlife. Their souls could finally rest.

Pulling into town, I knew I had to find her—the woman who left every letter signed simply: Joanna.

Everything, including her name, exuded sexiness—blond hair, long thin limbs, bright blue eyes . . . She was always put together, but that was just Honey. I, on the other hand, had always felt out of place with my not-really-blond but not-really-brown hair, muddled green-gray eyes, and a body that was strong from years of hiking. I was fit but didn’t have any of Honey’s softness.

I was never the woman that a man felt protective toward. I was the friend. Little sister. Less sexy girl-next-door and more spinster-librarian.

Seeing the Valkyrie wings, vandalized by the effects of war on Lincoln’s muscled forearm, spread an ache through my chest. Suddenly, I needed space to be alone. I needed to breathe and get myself under control.

In that moment, I knew. All this time, Lincoln had received my letters. He’d read them and he knew because I always signed each one simply, with Joanna.

She’d literally been on the periphery of my life for years and we’d never crossed paths. All day, I’d been going over and over it. How had we never met if she was such a part of Finn’s life? She went to school here, even lived right there in Chikalu for a few years, for fuck’s sake. Maybe Finn was hiding her—keeping her for himself.

to lie on my back, tucking her body against me. I wanted to be an honorable man. I knew that Finn loved Joanna, but I couldn’t help but feel like something was shifting here.

“Joanna, those letters meant everything.”

For years, I had been chasing a ghost, but here she was.

“Lincoln,” my mother’s voice went quiet, “you carry the weight of the world around on those big shoulders of yours. I think sometimes you forget that you’re allowed to put the weight down.” Her dark eyes were soft, and her small hand rested on my shoulder.

“Men like Lincoln don’t love girls like me, Honey.”

“Men like Lincoln end up with girls like you—beautiful and funny and feminine.” I gestured at all of her as I spoke.

This time I let her pass, my legs rooted to the ground. I wanted to tell her everything—that I fucked up, that I loved her, that I wanted to marry her, have babies with her, and do anything in my power to make her happy—but I froze. She deserved so much more than I could ever be for her.

“You’re in love with that girl and she loves you. But you’re too chickenshit to admit that you can have more than what you’ve allowed yourself.

I’m aware that she deserves so much more than me, but I’ll be damned if another asshole takes my place. I need to show her it’s always been her.”