Country Hearts

by Cindi Madsen

  Was anyone ever sure about anything? Jemma was sure about it being too painful, though. She had to go back home and try to repair her heart. So she gave one sharp nod and managed to blink away her tears.

  No more crying.

  This was a happy celebration of her time here.

  The kids filtered off the stage, except for Cupid and the businessman.

  “Well, that didn’t go the way I expected, but maybe all those misses actually hit the people they were supposed to,” Bailey said.

  “That’s what I do,” Chase said, adding a swagger, and the audience laughed. He grinned bigger, fueled by the reaction. “I also have to admit something. I need one more arrow.”

  Cupid’s forehead wrinkled. She slowly took her last heart arrow out of her quiver and extended it to him. You could see the longing on her face. While Bailey was an excellent actress, it didn’t hurt that she and Chase were friends with real crushes on each other.

  At first Jemma had worried it was only one-sided, but this week, it’d become rather clear Chase liked her back. Not only did his eyes search her out the instant he stepped into any room she was in, he also shared his cupcake with her at lunch, and boys didn’t go giving up half their dessert for anyone.

  Chase took the last arrow, turned the pointy tip of the heart toward Bailey, and slipped it between her side and arm so it looked like it went through.

  Bailey threw her hand over her heart. Then she said, “Silly businessman. I already love you.”

  They clasped hands and turned to the audience, who cheered.

  They bowed, and the rest of the kids headed onstage for the last musical number.

  Her students sang their little hearts out, and at the end of the song, they bowed while the audience cheered, just as loudly as they had at the basketball game.

  Camilla gave Jemma a quick side hug before grabbing the microphone and flipping the switch on the bottom of it. She tapped the top to ensure it was on and walked to the center of the stage. “Wasn’t that amazing? Our third graders have worked so hard, and it was so fun to see it all come together. Let’s give them another round of applause.”

  The audience did as asked, and then Camilla said, “So much work goes into school productions, and we couldn’t have done it without Mrs. Hembolt, our music teacher.”

  Dorothy stepped onto the stage and did a dramatic curtsey bow.

  “And Jemma Monroe, who accepted this job filling in for Mrs. Anna Lau. I sort of forgot to mention in the interview that she’d be partially in charge of the play.”

  Chuckles went through the audience.

  “But she took it on and did such a fabulous job. Miss Monroe, can you join me onstage?”

  Ordinarily, this kind of thing would only make her a smidge nervous. As she stepped onto the stage, the bright lights making her squint, a swarm of nervous bees buzzed in her belly. It was more than being in front of a crowd. It was this crowd and what she was going to say to them.

  Jemma’s hand trembled as she took the extended microphone. “Thank you all so much for coming and supporting our play. Mrs. Hembolt honestly did most of the hard work. But we’ve had a lot of help from the staff. Thanks to the parents and the community for building props and making signs, helping kids memorize lines, and everything you do to support the school. Huge shoutout to April from Havenly Brew for providing the drinks tonight. And last but not least…”

  Her throat tightened to the painful point as she glanced at her students. Bittersweet emotions and memories flickered, making it harder to get through her mini-speech.

  “You kiddos did amazing. I’m so, so proud of you.”

  Tears rose. Not only would she miss them, she was thinking of how much she enjoyed the myriad personalities and the group dynamic. It allowed her to get to know the kids on a more personal level, and she wondered if she couldn’t do more good in the classroom.

  In administration, she wouldn’t have that same chance to deal with the students on a more individual basis nearly as much. That ship’s sailed. You’ve got to stay the course, or you’ll end up shipwrecked with nowhere to go.

  If she looked at her students any longer, she’d never be able to get out the rest, so she stared directly into the bright lights, embracing the way they blurred everything else into a dark smear.

  Deep breath in.

  Long breath out.

  “Admittedly, when I got the job offer to come fill in for Mrs. Anna Lau’s maternity leave, I’d never heard of Haven Lake.”

  The smile that spread across her face was genuine, but in some ways, it felt like another version of her smiling. “On my first week here, a horse knocked on my door, I got stuck in the snow because I wasn’t used to unplowed roads, and a snake came out of one of the ceiling vents in my classroom. Let’s just say I was sort of worried I wouldn’t survive another week.”

  The audience chortled, and her gaze accidentally dipped, right to the guy who’d shown up to get his escape-artist horse. The guy who’d dug her out of the snow. The guy who’d taught her to build a fire, cleaned her chimney, and had been part of some of the best nights of her life.

  Jemma glanced at the boy who’d helped her with the snake. To the spirited girl at his side, the one she’d loved from the moment she’d slid inside the cab of the pickup truck and they’d started talking outfits. Every single one of her students owned a piece of her heart, but she’d given more of it to Bailey Rae and her daddy. She’d seen the glimpse of what a cozy family could be like. No more loneliness. A sense of fulfillment she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

  A hush had fallen over the audience, save for a few rambunctious toddlers, and Jemma shook herself out of her daze. She was in front of a crowd of people.

  Don’t fall apart now. You can do that later, when you get back to the cottage.

  Who was she kidding? It’d happen the instant she climbed into her car.

  She cleared her throat. “Now I can’t imagine not having the chance to come to this beautiful little town where people are kind and helpful, and accepted me right away, crazy shoes and all.” To her dismay, her voice broke, and she exhaled, exhaled, exhaled. “Which is why I’m going to miss you all so much.”

  Tears burned her eyes and blurred the faces peering up at her. She wished being unable to distinguish features made this easier, but it wasn’t. “I’m taking an administration job at the district office back in the city, but I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you all. To tell you how much I’ll miss everyone.”

  Jemma spun to her class, and a warm tear slipped down her cheek. “Especially you guys. Thank you for letting me be your teacher for a while.”

  “No,” Bailey said, stepping toward her, and Jemma knew she was going to lose the grip on her emotions.

  “So everyone enjoy the punch and cookies, and thanks again.” She thrust the microphone at Camilla’s hands and practically sprinted off the stage.

  The curtains closed, and the students drifted over to Jemma.

  Several of them asked if this was their last chance to say goodbye, and she stooped to their level and assured them she’d be at school to finish up her last week. Then she encouraged them to go find their parents and get refreshments.

  Chase paused in front of her and patted her shoulder. “You’re a pretty good teacher. Even if you’re scared of snakes.”

  Jemma half laughed, half sobbed. “Everyone has their weaknesses. Chase, I want you to remember that you’re a good kid. You’re smart and funny and you care about people, which is so important in this world right now. Make sure to take care of your next teacher as well as you’ve taken care of me.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and then he was off and down the stairs, tromp-tromping all the way.

  Then Bailey was the only one left, her Cupid wings making her look even more angelic than usual. “Why do you have to go?” she asked, tear
s filling her big brown eyes.

  The dam keeping Jemma from crying cracked as she lost hold of her emotions.

  “I was only here temporarily, filling in for Mrs. Lau. Now I have to go back home.”

  “Can’t you be her helper? Or just, like, help all the teachers—I bet they could all use some help.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it doesn’t work that way. At one time, I thought maybe…” That train of thought wouldn’t help either one of them, so she backtracked. “I have another job lined up, and it starts in two weeks.”

  “But what if you had a reason to stay? I thought you and my dad…” Bailey’s lower lip quivered and she sucked in a shuddered breath. “Don’t you like each other?”

  Jemma’s heart knotted so soundly she wasn’t sure it would ever beat right again. “I’m very fond of your father. And of you.” She cupped Bailey’s cheek and used her thumb to wipe away her tears. “I’ll always remember movie nights and s’mores and seeing a brand-new baby cow. I’ll never forget my time here.” She locked eyes with her. “Never forget you.”

  Bailey flung her arms around her neck, and Jemma hugged her tightly, taking a moment to soak in the love of this amazing little girl.

  “You’d better get out there and grab some punch,” Jemma said.

  “Why bother?” Defeat hung heavy in her voice, and she was scowling when she pulled back. “It’s supposed to be love potion, but it doesn’t even work.”

  Love potion. Perfect for Valentine’s Day, yet not so great for hopeful kids and adults who wanted it to work magic. But hey, at least it didn’t have part of Jemma’s name in it.

  She nudged Bailey in the direction the stairs. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

  With a huff, Bailey finally walked off the stage, tromping down the stairs as loudly as Chase had.

  After taking a couple of deep breaths that didn’t do much to stifle her urge to cry, Jemma quietly crept down the stairs. She went to poke her head out as Camilla stuck her head around the corner, and they nearly bumped heads.

  “I was just coming to check on you,” Camilla said. Her face dropped as she took in what Jemma was sure were tear-stained cheeks, possibly complete with streaks of runaway mascara.

  “I’m fine. If fine means that I’m about to burst into tears.” Jemma glanced around the principle at the people milling around the gym. Most of them had a plastic cup of pink punch in their hands as they stood around chatting with one another.

  Jemma should probably go out and personally thank everyone, but she spotted a familiar tan hat in the crowd, and she just couldn’t face Wyatt right now. “I’m going to go. I can come back in about thirty minutes to clean up if you nee—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Camilla gave her a consoling smile. “But if you need a friend, you call me.”

  Jemma swiped at her cheeks. “Okay.”

  “Actually, I know you won’t call, so I’m going to call you.”

  Jemma laughed and sniffed. “Thank you.” She hugged Camilla, who then pointed to the side door.

  “It’s unlocked. I’ll cover you.”

  Ducking her head, Jemma rushed over to the exit, cursing the loud clacking of her heels. Without meaning to, she glanced toward the crowd as she pulled open the door, a sort of farewell to these quaint events that the entire town showed up for, whether or not they had a kid in the play. Although most of them were most likely related somehow.

  Her last look was a mistake.

  Steady, hazel eyes were leveled on her. Wyatt didn’t smile, didn’t make any expression. Just stared.

  Her mangled heart tried to beat, but it was more of a splat. She yanked open the door and for once, she blessed the frigid cold. It stung her skin and helped her focus on that instead of the way her heart was cracking, the split spreading deep and wide as she walked away from the guy she loved.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Wyatt stared at the side door of the gym, unable to look away for several seconds after Jemma had fled out of it.

  Fled was the only word for it. Just like he knew she would. Not so much leaving the play but leaving town.

  Her words echoed through his head again and again: I’m taking an administration job at the district office back in the city, but I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you all. To tell you how much I’ll miss everyone.

  A gaping, hollow hole had formed in his chest, and it felt emptier and wider after she’d walked out that door. No one would miss her more than he would.

  Well, except maybe Bailey Rae.

  It was impossible to avoid thinking about Jemma leaving too, since everyone kept talking about what a shame it was to lose such a good teacher and how much they liked having Jemma Monroe in their town.

  Later that night, Wyatt might lie in bed and think of all the what-might’ve-beens, but right now he needed to focus on his daughter. She was inordinately quiet as she stood next to him, not shoving cookie after cookie in her mouth like she typically would, but nibbling on one with a sad expression that echoed through him.

  “You were great up there, Miss Cupid,” he said. “To know how to aim well enough to miss on purpose takes real skill.”

  His daughter shrugged, making her wings flutter.

  “You were funny too. Did you want me to grab you some punch?”

  Bailey Rae sighed, her irritation and sorrow coming through loud and clear. “It’s love potion, but it’s stupid and defective and ugh.”

  “Stupid, huh? Are you saying you wanted the drink to turn everyone into love-struck zombies?”

  She lowered her cookie and peered up at him, her eyes narrowing. “Did you drink the cup I gave you? You know it won’t actually turn you into a zombie, right?”

  “I don’t know. I’m craving—” he lifted his arms and made claws with his hands while letting his features go blank, “—braaaaaains.”

  Bailey’s eyes remained annoyed slits, no hint of humor, although the people around him were giving him odd looks.

  So much for attempting to lighten the mood. “I drank it, and I liked it a lot. You should try some.”

  Camilla stepped behind the table to help April fill a few more cups. He wanted to ask when Jemma’s last day was, but at the same time, he didn’t want to know. Part of him wondered why she couldn’t get Jemma to stay—they were friends. She was the principal. Surely she could find her a job.

  She’d still leave. She always wanted to go into admin. You knew that.

  “Miss Bailey Rae, did you get some punch?” April asked.

  She turned and scowled at her, a scowl usually only he got to witness—and most of the time, chores or cow or horse manure were involved.

  The way April’s eyebrows arched made it clear she was surprised.

  “Come on, Bailes. Let’s go home.” He put his hand on her back between her shoulder blades, but she dragged her feet.

  “Your love potion doesn’t work,” his daughter told April, and along with anger, tears were forming. She set her chin and stared at the coffee shop owner like she wanted an explanation.

  “It’s just supposed to be fun,” April said softly. “Believe me, honey, I wished it worked as much as you did.”

  “Me too,” Camilla muttered, and now she was glaring at him.

  April added a glare of her own, and then his daughter aimed her scowl at him.

  Great. Three women who were upset with him. Just what tonight needed to land this at the top of his crappy-nights list. Wasn’t it bad enough that he was losing Jemma?

  “Why am I getting the dirty looks? Jemma’s the one leaving.”

  “Maybe she wouldn’t if you told her how you feel,” Camilla said, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

  “We can all see it,” April added, placing a fist on her hip. “Don’t tell me you’re too dense to see it. Do I need to hold up a mirror so you can s
ee the love-struck look on your face when anyone mentions Jemma’s name?” She glanced around like she’d have a mirror at the ready, and he did his best not to flinch.

  “We’re going to lose an amazing teacher.” Camilla took a step closer. “An amazing friend.”

  His heart thumped harder in his chest, and he figured there wasn’t any reason to hold back the fact that yes, he did like Jemma. “Look, I wish things were different as well, but she wants to go into administration. She loves the city. Those are things she’s made clear several times.”

  “But Daddy,” Bailey Rae said, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, “didn’t you hear the part about how much she likes the town and the people here? She said she was going to miss us, but if she stayed, she wouldn’t have to miss us, and we wouldn’t have to miss her.”

  April began filling more plastic cups with the frothy pink drink, but her movements were sharp and jerky. “Maybe I should make a new drink to name after you. It’d have eggs and the word ‘chicken’ in the title.”

  Wyatt cupped his hands over his daughter’s ears before leaning closer to April and Camilla. “How dare you two get Bailey Rae’s hopes up. I can handle disappointment, but she doesn’t need any more of that in her life. That’s why I was hesitant to get involved with Jemma in the first place.”

  “It’s obvious that she loves Bailey too,” Camilla said, leaning right back. “Jemma took a big risk, laid her heart on the line, and told you she cared about you. You shut her down. That’s the reason she’s rushing out of here. Mrs. Lau wants to take the rest of the semester off, but Jemma said it’d be too hard to have to see you all the time.”

  “That won’t stop her from leaving someday, and I’d rather her do it now before we’re that much more attached. I have to do what’s best for my daughter.”

  Camilla crossed her arms. “Well, she thinks you should tell her how you feel.”

  “Another thing anyone can see,” April muttered, and then she jerked her chin toward his daughter. “Ask her.”

  Wyatt glanced down. His hands had slipped the tiniest bit, and she peered up at him, a hopeful expression on her face. “How much of that did you hear?” he asked.