by Cindi Madsen
He’d gotten an email about it, but he’d been in a hurry and had meant to look at it later. Only, five hundred other more pressing things had come up and he’d forgotten, and this was why he was forever behind. “Do you have your lunch?”
Bailey Rae lifted her unicorn lunchbox and turned around so Wyatt could slide it into her matching backpack.
He eyed the thin hoodie draped over her arm. “You need a warmer coat than that.”
She let her head roll back, and her lower lip came out in a pout. “But my big coat ruins the outfit.”
Wyatt crossed his arms and gave her the hard stare. “Remember our agreement about leggings?” He didn’t want to say he’d lost the battle, but more that they’d compromised. He wouldn’t keep insisting on warmer jeans if she’d wear a heavy coat, plus gloves.
“Fine,” she said, slipping off her backpack and pulling on her puffy pink winter coat before struggling into her backpack for the second time.
“It’s important to be prepared. You don’t want to go out in bad weather without a coat. What if the truck got a flat tire? Or the battery died? Then you’d need to hike, and you’d risk gettin’ frostbite, all for fashion.”
It was part of his job to prepare her for the world. To teach her how to be self-sufficient and plan for every scenario. This world could be a bumpy place, and while he didn’t want her to lose her free spirit, he didn’t have much patience for failing to be prepared. For not practicing caution. When you worked around machinery and big animals, you had to be cautious, or the consequences could be life-changing, possibly deadly.
Bailey Rae blinked her big brown eyes at him—eyes she’d gotten from her mother. “Well, I’d just have you carry me, then I’d be warm and it’d help you stay warm too. Win-win.” An over-the-top grin spread across her face, and he shook his head but lost the battle to hold back his own smile.
His precocious daughter quickly closed her lips, as if she remembered she was no longer smiling big enough for her teeth to show. He’d tried to talk to her about it, but she’d clamped up and told him it was “nothing” over and over. Now her used-to-be signature grin only made rare appearances and disappeared way too quickly.
Inwardly Wyatt sighed, wishing he could figure out why. Another thing they didn’t have time for, so he gestured toward the door. “In the truck, smarty pants.”
The cold air slapped his skin as they rushed down the steps and climbed into the truck. He’d left it running, so the cab was at least toasty.
Wyatt pulled out of the driveway and headed down the winding dirt road that led to the highway into town.
His phone chimed with a text, and he dug it out of his snap-button shirt pocket and automatically handed it to Bailey Rae.
“It’s Aunt Lori, asking if you need her to pick me up after school. She also says she has leftover stew and wondered if we wanted some.”
“Tell her—”
“‘Yes to the stew,” Bailey Rae said as she texted, “and thanks, but since she has a new teacher, I’m taking her to get a treat after school.’ And sent.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it.” Not what he would’ve said, though, because his sister had enough to do without providing them dinner. Lori often helped with rides and meals and things like birthday parties. She also treated Bailey Rae to the occasional spa day, where she’d come home with glittery nails in every color. But since Lori had had another baby a couple of months ago, she was plenty busy herself, and he didn’t like having to bother her. But it’d be a shame to let stew go to waste, and he’d save her a trip by picking it up on his way home from town, after he’d dropped off Bailey Rae.
As they neared the end of the snow-covered dirt road, he spotted a cherry-red vehicle. The back end spun left to right instead of the tires propelling the tiny car forward.
“You’re gonna get stuck in the bar pit,” he said, although the driver was too far away to hear.
The back end slid and, sure enough, the car drifted off the road and into the small burrow that helped water and melted snow drain.
Wyatt slowed, easing the brake pedal to the floor as he downshifted.
Spatters of white flipped off the uselessly spinning tires of the red car. Did the driver really think slamming on the gas would magically fix the messy predicament?
The door to the car opened, and the woman who’d moved into the cottage next door stepped out. She struggled to get up the slight incline but finally made it up to the level part of the road.
Is she wearing high-heeled boots?
Her dark hair was curled and cascading around her shoulders, a stark contrast to the red coat that looked about as thick as the hoodie Bailey Rae had tried to wear. She rounded the car, headed back down the slight incline, and shoved against the trunk, as if that’d actually move her car.
Unless she was the Hulk, that vehicle wasn’t going to budge.
“Stay here,” Wyatt said to Bailey Rae as he threw the truck in park.
“Way ahead of you. I don’t want to freeze my nose off or get my outfit all snowy. And yeah, yeah, I’d deal with it for survival purposes if I had to.”
Jemma probably had the same plan with her fancy outfit, and therein was the problem with not dressing for the weather—she was asking for frostbite for sure.
She spun to face him as he climbed out of the truck.
At first she squinted at him, but then her forehead smoothed. “Oh. Hi again.” Her cheeks and nose were pink, and a puff of white escaped her mouth as she gave a long exhale. “I, uh, seem to be stuck.”
“And getting more so by the second.”
She frowned at him, so clearly that was the wrong thing to say. Still, he couldn’t seem to get a hold of his mouth.
“What are you thinking, wearin’ those shoes when there’s this much snow on the ground?”
Her frown deepened. “I just wanted to look nice. I’m not clueless—I wore snow boots to shovel my sidewalk, but I figured once I got going, I’d make it into town and…” She glanced at her car again, and her dangly silver earring got stuck in her scarf. She went cross-eyed while removing it with her too-thin gloves. “Don’t they plow these roads?”
“Way out here?” he asked with a laugh. “The town barely maintains the main roads. You’re going to need snow tires and possibly chains, especially on that little car. I warned you there’d be a lot of snow.”
“‘A lot’ is such a vague term. One I underestimated.” She took a step, slipped, and worked to steady herself on the car. “I really need to get into town. It’s my first day. I can’t be late.”
“Late” was something he was going to know too much about here pretty quickly, but it wasn’t like he’d leave her stranded. He headed to his truck and grabbed a shovel out of the back.
Jemma waved, a big smile on her face, and while he was confused for a second about what he’d done to get that kind of reaction, he realized the wave was meant for Bailey Rae. She’d leaned so close to the windshield that the tip of her nose was pressed against the fogged-up glass.
As Wyatt neared, Jemma’s smile wavered. She hugged her arms around herself and stomped, he assumed in an attempt to get warm.
“You can climb into the truck with my daughter if you’d like. The heater’s cranked nice and high.”
“Oh, I…” The longing glance she aimed at the truck gave her away, although he could tell she was about to politely decline.
“I’ve got this. It’d actually be better if I didn’t have to worry about where you’re standing.”
“Okay. I guess just holler if you need my help.”
Fat chance, but at least he managed to keep those words from coming out of his mouth. He didn’t want to be mean, despite the fact that this entire situation could’ve been easily avoided.
Jemma picked her way over to the truck in those absurd shoes, opened the creaky door, and then he got to
work digging around her tires so he could get on with his overbooked day.
“Hello,” Jemma said to the adorable blond girl once she could get her teeth to stop chattering. “Sorry for the delay.”
“It’s okay.” Her knee went to bouncing, pulling Jemma’s attention to the rainbow-colored skirt and heart leggings. “I’m sorta nervous ’bout today, anyway.”
Jemma’s stomach drifted up near her ribcage as she fretted over her first day at a new school, where she wouldn’t have Randa down the hall in case she needed backup. Where she didn’t know anyone. “Me too.”
The little girl gave her outfit a once-over. “You look nice. I love the bright red, and those earrings are supercool. Someday I’m going to wear the big, dangly ones, but Daddy says I have to wait till I’m older. And when I ask, ‘But how old?’ he always just says, ‘Older.’”
Jemma bit back her laugh and decided to focus on the compliment part. “Thank you.” She smoothed a hand down the skirt of her black-and-white striped dress, where her more conservative white leggings filled the gap between the end of it and the start of her knee-high boots. “I’m afraid that I went with looks over warmth, and now I’m paying for it.”
“Story of my life,” the little girl said with a dramatic sigh, and this time Jemma did laugh. She was an explosion of colors and styles. If Jemma tried something so bold, she’d look ridiculous, but this girl made it work.
“Well, you do look fabulous. I’m Jemma, by the way.”
“Bailey. My family mostly uses my first and middle name, so I go by Bailey Rae as well. You can call me either one.”
Jemma’s gaze drifted to her car as Wyatt climbed inside, the shovel he’d been using sticking up out of the ground next to her back tires. “Does this happen a lot? People getting stuck out here?”
“No one ’sides us really lives out here anymore. Mrs. Klein hardly ever went anywhere before she moved to Arizona. But don’t worry, my dad will get you unstuck.”
Sure enough, her car lurched forward, and Wyatt drove it up the slight hill until the front two tires were on the paved road.
Currently it was about as white as the rest of the world, although there weren’t as many snow drifts as on this tiny dirt road.
Jemma twisted in the seat, her knee lightly knocking into the steering wheel. “It was nice meeting you, Bailey. I live next door now, in Mrs. Klein’s cottage, so I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other.”
Bailey nodded and sat back in her seat, and Jemma sucked in a breath to prepare for the cold before opening the door. Her boots slid in the snow, and she cursed herself for wearing them. If she was late for her very first day, her outfit wouldn’t be nearly as impressive. And judging from the disapproving way Wyatt had eyed her footwear, he certainly wasn’t impressed.
She smothered her offense and focused on what was important. “Thank you for your help.”
“Sure thing. Now, what you’re gonna wanna do is keep your momentum going, but not too fast. Just turn into the back end if you start to lose control.”
Right. She’d totally do that. Her hesitation must’ve showed, because he asked, “Think you can manage to get into town from here?”
“I hope so.” It was more honest than she meant to be, but she was realizing she didn’t know much about driving in snow like this. That she was unprepared.
The nerves she’d tamped down drifted up again, making her worry if she was also unprepared for a whole new classroom dynamic. What if her usual tricks didn’t work on country kids?
When in doubt, fake it till you make it. With that in mind, she lifted her chin. “I got it, thank you.”
“Okay, well, I’ll be behind you if you need me.”
That fact added more pressure, although it was also semi-reassuring. At least she wouldn’t be stuck for hours, but she didn’t want him to have to stop again. To delay him even more.
Since he didn’t seem to be big on conversation, and her toes and fingers were going numb, she climbed into her warm car. The tires slid a bit as she pulled on to the main road, but she managed to keep the car straight. The closer they got to town, the better the roads were.
Once they hit Main Street, Jemma desperately wanted to stop at the cute coffee shop with the welcoming white-and-blue awning to get a morning pick-me-up, but she’d spent every spare minute she had dealing with the snow. Instead of pulling off the road, she simply gave a pining glance to the vinyl cup of joe on the window and drove on to the old brick elementary school, pulling around to the side of the building with the teachers’ lounge.
Unfortunately, there’d be no time to lounge or meet her coworkers, but she did need to check in with the principal before rushing to her class to meet her new students.
Chapter Three
“I’m usually early, I promise,” Jemma said to Camilla Alvarez, the principal she’d interviewed with to get the job.
They’d also met yesterday so she could at least halfway set up the classroom in the way that worked for her. While she was forever running behind, when it came to her job, she worked to be not just on time but early, and she hated going into a classroom without time to collect herself. Kids sensed fear, and she’d wanted to have a few minutes to settle in before her first student showed up.
Thanks to getting stuck, there were probably already several kids in the room, getting unrulier by the second.
“Don’t worry about it. You missed the bell by mere seconds.” For such a short person, Camilla walked remarkably fast. She swiped a strand of wavy, dark hair behind her ear, showing off more of her flawless bronze completion, and gave Jemma a reassuring, dimpled smile. “Snowy days always cause a few delays. One of our aides is watching the class now, so take a deep breath, and we’ll get you officially introduced.”
Vaguely, she heard the woman at the front office greet whoever had come in through the main double doors.
“Sorry we’re late,” a deep male voice said, one she swore she’d heard about fifteen minutes ago. “We had to pull our city-slicker neighbor out of the snow bank.”
Jemma stepped into full view and, sure enough, there was the cowboy next door and his much-friendlier little girl.
Bailey waved at her. “Hey! My dad was just talking about you.”
Wyatt’s eyes met hers. The cordial smile on his face faltered, but he didn’t exactly rush to say he was sorry.
“Thanks again for your help,” she said, her words coming out slightly clipped. “As I mentioned, I underestimated the snow. And the lack of snowplows.” And a whole mess of things.
It was like her new neighbor was chivalrous, but surly. Not exactly friendly, yet not exactly unfriendly.
“Bailey is one of your students.” Camilla squatted slightly to address the girl, and it showed how preoccupied Jemma had been earlier that she hadn’t asked Bailey what grade she was in. “Do you want to help me introduce Miss Monroe to everyone?”
Bailey’s face lit up. “I’d be happy to, ‘specially since we already met this morning. She lives right next to me.” She turned to Jemma. “I’m so glad you’re nice. Our last teacher was pretty nice, and I was worried we’d get one of the mean teachers. Like…” She grimaced and lowered her voice. “I’d better not say.”
“Probably a good idea,” Wyatt said, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her an affectionate squeeze, and Jemma noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Thanks to her single status, she checked on reflex, but she was also in the habit of cataloguing details about her students’ parents that would help her be more sensitive to their family situation.
While the two interactions she’d had with the man were hardly ideal ways to meet the parent of one of her students, Jemma told herself not to freak out. After all, she’d never been one to do things the conventional way.
Wyatt tipped his hat at her. “Nice to meet you again, Miss Monroe.”
“You,
too, Mr., um…” She blanked on his last name, and her face heated up as she searched her memory. All that would come was Wyatt, and she should probably go more formal now that she knew he was the father of one of her students.
“Langford.”
“Right. Sorry. I’m meeting so many new people and…” She trailed off, trying not to be discouraged about how rough this entire morning was going.
“No worries.” Wyatt bent next to Bailey. “Okay, have a good day. Love you.”
“Love you too. Don’t forget that this counts as a first day because I have a new teacher, so that means I get a treat after school.”
He chuckled. “How could I forget when you’ve already reminded me twice this morning?”
Bailey flung out her arms. “I just like to be sure when treats are involved.”
Jemma couldn’t help smiling at that. She felt the same way about treats.
“Then I’m reminding you to eat the carrot sticks I packed in your lunch,” he said, and Bailey wrinkled her nose. He straightened, his gaze drifting to Jemma. “Good luck, city-slicker neighbor.”
If he hadn’t said it lightly, with a hint of teasing, she might be offended. “I’m sure I’ll see you around, cowboy neighbor.”
He smiled, a genuine smile that highlighted his chiseled features and made something stir in her gut. Surely not butterflies, because that was a bad idea. But it was just what she needed to lift her chin, gather her wits, and turn to the principal, who was beaming in a way that made her immediately feel nervous again.
“Let’s do this.”
Wyatt cast one last glance toward his daughter as she started down the hall of the very same school he’d attended back in the day, her outfit a bright splash in the drab hallway. She practically skipped everywhere she went, and she darted toward her classroom, Principal Camilla Alvarez—who he went to school with back in the day—and Jemma Monroe behind her.
Those ridiculous high-heeled boots snagged his attention again. While he maintained the opinion she should’ve been more prepared for the weather, he regretted his remark about having to pull her out of the snowbank. It hadn’t set him back all that long, and obviously she was out of her element.
