Excerpt of Bachelor Games in Good Hope by Cindy Kirk

Clay had hoped to be married by now. Maybe even have a child or two. That dream might have been realized if he hadn’t kept picking the wrong women. That’s exactly what his sister had told him bluntly only moments earlier.

“Mind if I join you?”

Clay looked up and found himself staring into the pale blue eyes of Gladys Bertholf. She wore a red and gold caftan. A dozen bright bracelets encircled her bony wrists. She might be a nonagenarian, but the woman had sharp eyes and an equally quick mind. Clay liked her. He stood.

“Please. Have a seat.”

Once she settled on the bench opposite him, Clay smiled and gestured to her street clothes.

“I thought you’d have set up your tent tonight and be decked out as Madame Gitana.”

Though the event this evening was billed as Beerfest and Brats, there were several staples of any event held in Good Hope. Izzie Deshler doing caricatures. Lindsay Vaughn selling crafts and flowers. And Gladys with her crystal ball, telling fortunes.

“Madame Gitana is taking the night off,” Gladys said, referring to herself in the third person.

“That’s too bad. I could use her insight.”

Many doubted Gladys’s ability, but Clay wasn’t one of them. He’d seen too many of her predictions hit the mark.

“You’re not with that woman anymore.”

Gladys lifted a red Solo cup to her lips.

“Is that over for good?”

“Yep. Done and over.”

Inclining her head, Gladys studied him. “You don’t appear to be pining for her.”

“Our split is for the best.”

Clay took another swig of beer. This was his second, and as he rarely drank, he had a slight buzz. He planned to walk home, so finishing this one wasn’t an issue. The noncommittal sound Gladys made had him frowning. He arched a brow.

“You don’t think the break is for the best?”

“I absolutely do.”

Gladys studied his face.

“Yet, I sense you are troubled.”

During the conversation, she’d switched to the tone associated with her Madame Gitana persona. Her blue eyes, normally eerily pale, now appeared as dark as midnight. Clay blinked. He was definitely stopping at two beers.

“Clay?” she prompted.

“I pick the wrong women.”

Clay tightened his fingers around the neck of the bottle.

“Stella was the most recent in a long string of bad choices.”

“You’re looking for love, the kind your brother and sister have, but you can’t seem to find it on your own.” Madame Gitana, er, Gladys, intoned. “Is that what I hear you saying?”

He gazed down at the scarred wooden top, then back up at her. “I’ve got time. I’m not even thirty.”

“The pool we fish from gets smaller the older we get.” Gladys’s expression grew thoughtful. “What if I told you there’s a foolproof way for you to find the right woman?”

Clay rubbed his forehead. “I’d say you’re crazy.”

She cackled. That was the only way to describe the laugh. He found himself chuckling with her.

“If such a way did exist, you should market it. You’d make a fortune. But if it involves starting up one of those online dating services, I’ve already tried those.”

“My services are personalized. I reserve my efforts for individuals who are special to me.” Reaching across the table, Gladys covered his hand with hers. “Ones I know will appreciate what I can do for them. There’s only one thing you’d need to do.”

Suddenly wary, Clay glanced at the woman. “What would that be?”

“Put your faith and trust in me.” Gladys’s tone turned persuasive. “It’s not much to ask. In return for participating in my Bachelor Games, I’ll deliver the love of your life right to your front door.”