Country Hearts Page 4

  He’d told her he loved her smile, but a week or so later he’d noticed she fought smiling with teeth. If April and chocolate muffins couldn’t get it out of her, he didn’t know what would.

  He suspected some of the kids might’ve teased her about her slight overbite, and he hated that kids always poked at others’ insecurities. Once again he wondered if he should bring it up, but every time he did, she clammed up more, her almost smile turned into a melancholy pout that lasted longer each time.

  I wish she’d believe me instead of them.

  His sister always accused him of worrying too much, but he didn’t think it was possible to dial it back with the girl who brought sunshine into his life. His daughter was what kept him going, and he’d do just about anything for her.

  “What about you?” April asked, addressing him.

  “I’ll have one of the chocolate muffins too. And a regular coffee, black.”

  “Ooh, and can I have one of the Italian sodas?” Bailey Rae bounced on her toes and pressed her hands in prayer position. “Pleeeease?”

  Played like the sucker I am. “Fine.”

  She clapped and ordered the Bohemian Raspberry—extra-large. In other words, she’d be begging for him to pull over to use the bathroom halfway home.

  The bell over the door jingled, and Wyatt automatically glanced back.

  And froze.

  Jemma walked in and shook snowflakes from her dark hair. He looked past her, out the large window facing the street. It was hard to make out much besides the back of the giant coffee cup design stuck to the glass, but he could see a few white flurries. They must’ve begun falling a few minutes ago, but the snow didn’t seem to be sticking to the ground yet.

  His gaze accidently drifted to Jemma for a quick second before he forced it forward.

  April leaned to one side, peering around him. “That must be our new elementary teacher,” she said, excitement filling her words.

  The woman loved knowing the who’s who of town and what everyone was up to at all times. People always joked that she dealt in coffee beans and gossip, which was another reason he sometimes avoided the shop. He’d rather people not know his business.

  Wyatt quickly schooled his features. No letting her know that he was acquainted with the new woman in town.

  “She’s actually my teacher,” Bailey Rae said, back to bouncing on the balls of her feet. “She’s so, so nice.” She spun around and waved, nice and big. “Miss Monroe! Hi!”

  April leaned closer, her stomach hitting the cash register as she raised an eyebrow. “So it’s Miss, is it? Been a while since a single woman moved into town.”

  Wyatt didn’t reply. It’d only give the coffee shop owner ideas, no matter what he said or how he said it.

  Jemma hesitated at the door, her expression saying she wasn’t sure if she should hang back until he was done ordering. That last moment in the hallway popped into his head. It was okay to be neighborly, right?

  If anything, it was part of his duty as her neighbor. Not to mention his daughter was already waving her over and asking if she’d come to try the chocolate muffin.

  “Make that three muffins,” he said to April, focusing on pulling the bills out of his wallet so no one could misread anything in his expression. “Plus whatever Miss Monroe wants to drink.”

  The click of her heeled boots filled the air. “Oh, no, that’s o—”

  “I insist.”

  She smiled at him, the blue, blue eyes he somehow hadn’t noticed earlier cutting right through his defenses, and a sensation he hadn’t felt in years stirred in his gut. “Thank you. But I should be the one treating you for your help this morning.”

  April was practically salivating behind the cash register, her gaze volleying between the two of them as if she was a spectator at a tennis match.

  Wyatt cleared his throat. “So? What do you want to drink?”

  Jemma stepped up next to him, and when her perfume hit him, he quickly exhaled. She tapped a white-tipped fingernail to glossy lips, glancing from the giant menu chalkboard with all the funky-named drinks to April. “So many options. What’s your specialty?”

  “Well, the drink of the week is Frappe the Snowman. It’s a white chocolate Frappuccino with carrot cake spice, and another secret ingredient—your next drink’s on me if you guess it right.”

  “That sounds delightful. I’ll have that.”

  The woman uses words like “delightful” and goes for the fancy drinks. Why am I not surprised?

  “What?” she asked him, her hands going to her hips in classic teacher stance—he’d been a bit rambunctious growing up and had seen that stern expression too many times. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “No reason. Just wondering if you were going to have some coffee with your whip cream and sugar.”

  “Just enough to keep me going while I plan tomorrow’s lesson. Let me guess. You drink it boring and black so you can prove you’re tough as nails.”

  “I’ve got nothing to prove. I just don’t see the point in ordering drinks masquerading as coffee.”

  One eyebrow arched, and he told himself not to focus on those blue eyes. “It’s called self-care.”

  “Don’t you mean sugar coma?”

  “I can whip out my dictionary if you want me to, and we can see which definition is closer.”

  Part of him wanted to tell her to go ahead. He was enjoying their exchange more than he should, especially since he’d started it to prove to himself that she was one of those fancy women who cared about the finer things in life.

  But April was studying them too closely—already calculating a plan that involved matchmaking efforts, no doubt. Everyone in town seemed to think he should pair up and settle down, as if he wanted to go down that road again. He’d already made peace with the fact that it’d be just him and Bailey Rae from here on out.

  Wyatt fumbled with the wad of bills in his hands and handed them over to April, who got to making the drinks and grabbing the muffins.

  Bailey Rae grabbed a few napkins from the area with the straws, condiments, and plastic cutlery. While looking directly at him, Jemma grabbed a couple of packets of cream and sugar, her features heavy on the you can’t tell me what to do.

  His daughter turned to her teacher. “You should sit by us. Then you can tell me if you like the muffin.”

  “Oh, I should get to planning,” Jemma said as he said, “I’m sure she’s busy, and we should get home anyway.”

  They exchanged a glance. Well, at least they were on the same page. It was one thing for people in town to go getting ideas, but he didn’t want Bailey Rae to get too attached, either.

  Wyatt asked April to change their part of the order to go, and after they’d divvied up the drinks and muffins, Jemma lightly placed her hand on Bailey Rae’s shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow in class. And I’ll have a special guest with me.”

  Bailey Rae’s eyes widened with excitement. “Who?”

  “You’ll have to come to class and see. But what I can say is that he’s super cute, and you won’t want to miss meeting him.”

  For the briefest, weirdest moment, Wyatt wondered if maybe she had a boyfriend. The pinch of dismay he experienced was another reason it was best for them not to get too involved with their neighbor.

  Good thing that on the outskirts of town, “next-door neighbor” meant they still had about a quarter of a mile between them.

  As long as Jemma didn’t get stuck in the snow again, he should only have to have minimal interactions with her. The occasional school drop-off and pick-up, and that was it, and he was going to make sure it stayed that way.

  The instant the barista had handed Wyatt his order, he’d rushed Bailey out of the coffee shop, almost as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  Sheesh, what did I say?

 
And just when she’d concluded maybe he wasn’t as gruff as she’d originally thought. It was nice of him to buy her coffee and muffin, even if he’d mocked her drink choice.

  “Don’t take it personally,” the auburn-haired woman behind the cash register said. “My goodness, I seem to have forgotten my manners.” She wiped her hands on her pale-blue-and-yellow-floral apron before extending one. “I’m April Copeland, and this here’s my little slice of heaven, also known as Havenly Brew Coffee Shop.”

  “Jemma Monroe,” she said as she shook her hand. “I’m the new third-grade teacher—well, I’m filling in for a while, anyway—and I adore coffee and I’m already in love with your charming coffee shop.”

  The words April had said before they’d made their introductions caught up to Jemma’s brain. “Don’t take what personally?”

  “Wyatt. He’s a bit…” April’s pale blue eyes rolled to the ceiling, as if she’d find answers there, and Jemma decided to help fill in the blank.

  “Grumpy? Laconic?” The weirdest mix of rude and polite?

  April tipped her head one way and then the other, the overhead lights highlighting the smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. “I was going to say overwhelmed and always in a hurry, what with taking care of his ranch and being a single father. He’s never been much of a talker, but after his wife left him, he says even less.”

  Jemma did her best not to react to that. After all, Camilla had mentioned as much when they’d spoken after school. The principal also declared there’d been “a vibe” between them, and Jemma had assured the woman she was imagining things and there was no vibe.

  So why did she feel disappointed that he’d rushed out so quickly?

  This is what you do. You overthink minor interactions and turn them into something they’re not.

  Remember how you’re thinking more logically about men now?

  Wyatt Langford was wrong for her on a lot of levels. Not only did she have no clue about cowboys or what to discuss with a guy like that, he’d also made it rather clear he considered her ridiculous.

  On top of that, she didn’t know how long she’d be here. Between teaching and her online classes to finish her Masters in education, she was plenty busy. Her long-term goal involved eventually going into administration, where she could implement changes without needing permission from people who totally didn’t get her and make a bigger difference.

  Part of her had wanted to give up on that goal once she’d been laid off. How could she change things when she couldn’t even hold on to her job? But she’d reminded herself it’d been about the budget, not her skills. Besides, she’d put in the time and was so close to earning her Masters, which would bump up her salary, as well as widen the job pool and make her more attractive to prospective employers.

  Back to the cowboy issue, though, she’d also never date a student’s father. It muddled things too much. Confused the kids, and then how awkward would parent-teacher conference be?

  “Jemma? Are you still with me?”

  Dang it, she’d gotten lost in her thoughts again, the daydreamer kid she used to be taking over since she was out of practice reining that side of her in. She toyed with the straw of her drink. “He’s my neighbor and I have his daughter in my class, so it’s no big deal. I meet all kinds of different parents.”

  “Probably not ones who are as nice to look at,” April said with a sly smile that practically begged her to spill her secrets.

  Knowing better than to comment, Jemma took a sip of her Frappe the Snowman. “This is amazing, by the way. Is the secret ingredient…?” She focused on the flavors dancing on her tongue. “Marshmallow?”

  “Nope.”

  Another gulp. “Cinnamon?”

  “Yes, but that’s not the secret one. It’s part of the carrot cake spice.”

  With April properly distracted from talking about Wyatt’s nice looks, Jemma decided she’d simply enjoy the delightsome combination. “I’m going to go set up at a table and see how well it pairs with my muffin. Thanks again.”

  She carried everything over to a table in the corner and bit into her muffin, which was as delicious as Bailey had claimed. After planning out tomorrow’s lesson, she packed up her laptop and lesson planner. She’d have to complete her online coursework at home, slow Wi-Fi or not, because the snow was starting to stick and the sun was starting to dip.

  Once Jemma climbed in her car and hit the road they hadn’t bothered plowing, she cursed herself for not leaving sooner. The tires slipped on the patches that had halfway melted before refreezing, and she held her breath as her rapid pulse throbbed behind her temples.

  For a couple of terrifying seconds, she was sure she was going to slide right off the road and end up stuck all over again. Obviously, driving in the snow was going to take a mixture of practice and prayer.

  One thing was for sure, though—if her car slid off the road again, there was no way she was going to ask Wyatt Langford for help.

  She’d simply risk frostbite and hike home, too-thin coat and heeled boots notwithstanding.

  Some might call that pride, but she liked to think of it as self-preservation.

  As soon as she pulled up in front of her new/old place, she let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging as her lungs deflated.

  “I made it,” she said aloud, forgetting for a moment that Señor Fluffypants hadn’t taken the trip with her today. Evidently she talked to her bunny more than she realized, which didn’t make her feel semi-crazy at all.

  After turning the heater to high and soaking up every second of heat she could, she shut off her car and rushed down the sidewalk, the heels of her boots digging in enough to keep her from falling, although the soles were slippery.

  With her hand trembling from the cold, it took two times to get the key in the lock so she could open the door and hurry inside.

  Her laptop bag hit the coffee table with a clunk and she shed her coat, then immediately decided to pull it back on. The cottage was drafty, and the old vents that ran along the floor didn’t put out nearly enough heat.

  With her first workday officially behind her, she scrolled through her contacts, tapped on Randa’s name, and hit the FaceTime button. After years of waving in the hallways and lunch breaks spent mostly together, it’d seemed weird to be in school without her comforting presence.

  Her friend’s familiar face and long, curly, dirty-blond hair flickered on the screen for all of two seconds before the feed froze. The green eyes and tan skin from spending all summer in the sun pixelated into gray nothingness, and her words came out spotty and garbled.

  One frustrating minute of that was all Jemma could take, so she gave up on the FaceTime option and simply hit the phone button.

  “Hey,” Randa said, and at least her voice came through perfectly clear, although Jemma would miss her exaggerated facial expressions. The girl never stood a chance at lying—she was more tell-it-like-it-is anyway—and she could get students excited about anything by injecting enthusiasm into her voice and delicate features. “How’s the country?”

  “Snowy and cold, and so far, everyone seems nice. Except my neighbor. Although that’s not exactly true. He’s nice but in a grumpy, begrudging way.”

  “Explain.” See? Straightforward and good at rolling with the punches.

  “They don’t plow the roads out by where I live. I have to make it seven miles before I hit clear roads, and I know that doesn’t sound like a lot, but when you have to go super slow and end up sliding off into a snowbank, it’s forever.”

  “Oh my gosh, you wrecked? Are you okay?”

  “More like I gently slid into a tiny ditch and got super stuck. Totally fine, except my pride. I was trying to push my car back onto the road, and along comes my cowboy neighbor—we have to take the same tiny dirt road to get to the main road. Anyway, he takes one look at me and frowns at my boots—
”

  “The cute black ones with the killer heel?”

  “Those are the ones.” The fact that Randa knew her and her shoe collection so well made it easier to picture her on the other end of the line, regardless of being unable to get the video chat to work. “He sort of scolded me for wearing them. It’s not like I thought I’d be pushing my car in the snow this morning when I got dressed. I just wanted to look nice for my first day.”

  “Naturally. Nice and tall too, although for the record, you’re tall enough as it is.”

  “Wyatt’s taller, even in the heels.”

  Randa hmmed.

  “No hmming. It was merely an observation.”

  “Is this Wyatt guy cute?”

  Jemma flopped onto the couch and bent to unzip her boots. “I hardly see how that matters.”

  “That means yes.”

  Her mind automatically recalled the guy, tall and broad, the tan cowboy hat covering his head. “Okay, he’s cute, but his daughter is in my class. She’s a total sweetheart. And he did buy me a muffin and a coffee to make up for it. I just…”

  Now she wasn’t sure why she’d brought him up. She quickly launched into the story about her unexpected—and unwelcome—snake visitor, which had Randa laughing so hard she was gasping for air.

  “I’m seriously cry-laughing. As well as picturing a one-room schoolhouse like in Anne of Green Gables, where you have kids of all ages in one room and they write on slates.”

  “Oh, I didn’t even tell you about the horse that knocked on my door the first night I’d moved into the cottage.”

  “Stop,” Randa said through more laughter.

  “I’m also pretty sure I passed a llama farm, but I was too scared to look too closely because I didn’t want to slide off the road again. As I already mentioned, I wasn’t wearing the shoes for it. But I swear there were llamas.”

  “Maybe you’re in a Disney movie. If the animals start talking, you’ll know for sure.”

  Jemma laughed, enjoying the camaraderie and missing her friend. While there were nice people and it’d turned out to be a pretty good day overall, she just wasn’t sure she belonged in Haven Lake.