by Cindi Madsen
So that’s Bailey Rae’s new teacher.
He’d expected someone older. Matronly. Jemma wasn’t either of those things. She was stylish, probably in her mid-twenties, and she had a nice smile, which was something he definitely shouldn’t notice.
Usually he didn’t notice much about women—hadn’t really looked twice since his ex had left him, Bailey Rae, and their simple life together behind.
I wonder how long a woman like Jemma will even last in Haven Lake.
Quickly, he told himself that it was dangerous to give the woman much thought.
She lived next door and was his daughter’s teacher, and that was all there was to it.
Anything else might get him into trouble, and his life didn’t allow time for anything else anyway.
But there was nothing wrong with being glad he’d have some entertainment as he watched his new neighbor adjust to small-town life.
Chapter Four
A couple of hours into the day, and it was going rather well. Jemma was quickly learning names and, overall, they were really good kids. Naturally, they were testing the boundaries, but she held firm, showing them the line.
The kids who fought hardest against boundaries often needed them the most, but she’d learned that as long as she reinforced that line, no budging, they’d eventually respect it. Be better for it, even.
After she’d told a story about hailing a taxi in the pouring rain to get to a concert, one kid replied with, “You’re not from around here, are you?”
Which led to telling them how she was from Denver.
Sometimes, lessons required kids to stay on task, but in her opinion, curious minds were a good thing, one she liked to foster and reward. She turned the discussion into a state geography lesson, adding fun facts about the city. How it was the state capital and that a miner had founded it back in the day and named it after the Kansas Territorial Governor James W. Denver to gain his good graces.
After the bumpy morning, it was nice to feel like she was getting her groove back.
“Okay, so now let’s open our science workbooks.”
“Miss… What was your name again?” Chase, a kid with buzzed blond hair and a twangy accent asked. The kid looked like a miniature cowboy, one ready to hop on a horse at any moment. Earlier, when he’d walked up to sharpen his pencil, she’d heard a slight ching, ching, ching and had seen that he had spurs on his boots.
“Miss Monroe.” She straightened, just in case she had to give him a gentle chiding to stay focused.
Whispers traveled across the classroom in a wave, the chittering growing louder as Jemma wondered what had set them all off at once. There were snickers and squeaks, and a couple of students stood and began backing up.
“Come on, guys, we need to quiet down and focus. Later we’ll do something fun, but you have to behave. Look at how quietly Tyler’s sitting.” Praising students who behaved had proven far more motivating than yelling at students who weren’t.
Although, Tyler’s eyes were growing more round by the second.
“Okay, but Miss Monroe,” Chase said, “you might wanna look up.”
Trepidation crept across her skin, and she slowly tipped up her head.
And screamed.
A giant yellow-and-white snake slithered in the empty air, its back half still in the heater vent.
Jemma backpedaled until her thighs hit her desk. She knocked it across the floor a few inches, the legs screeching against the tile. She heard her cup of pens and pencils spill but didn’t take her eyes off the creature hanging from the ceiling.
Her heart was beating too fast and her throat went bone-dry. The snake was coming down, and the students were growing louder, several of them standing and rushing toward the opposite end of the classroom.
The side with the door.
The side she’d rather be on.
Okay, keep it together. You’ve got to be strong for your students, regardless of how badly you want to run screaming.
She licked her lips, trying to figure out how to deal with a snake and coming up blank—it wasn’t exactly in the teacher handbook.
Chase’s spurs made their light chinging noise as he headed toward the dangling serpent instead of away from it. “You want me to get it?”
“It might be dangerous,” Jemma said. “I’ll just…call someone.” She reached for the phone on her desk, her gaze remaining on the snake and its flickering forked tongue.
Chase put his fists on his hips as he studied it. “It’s just a corn snake—it’s the rattlers you’ve gotta be careful of. But they give you a warning rattle so you’ll leave them alone.”
“I’d leave them alone without the rattle,” she murmured. Now that she was giving the reptile a closer look, she realized Chase was right. It was a corn snake, and she vaguely recalled learning about them in science class.
They weren’t poisonous.
Didn’t make it less creeptastic, but a little more comforting.
Chase looked at her, silently asking permission, and she nodded.
He stepped up on a chair and grabbed the snake, right by the neck and in the middle. Goose bumps broke out across her skin, and a few of the girls made noises that varied from disgust to admiration—the admiration was undoubtedly for the boy who’d wrangled the snake, not the actual serpent.
As icked out as Jemma was, she still tried to use the experience as a science lesson. “Who can tell me what snakes eat?” Her voice wavered slightly, but she’d managed to sound calm and semi-collected.
“Mice!” someone called out, and she repressed another shudder. This morning she’d considered the snow a pain, and now she’d rather think about anything besides creepy-crawlies.
“Yep.”
“Can we find him a mouse and watch him eat it?” Kylie M. asked.
This time, Jemma couldn’t repress her shudder, despite finding it funny that one of the quietest, sweetest-looking female student in her class was so excited about the prospect. “I think we’d better find where he belongs and make sure he gets back there safely.”
A couple of phone calls revealed that the fifth-grade teacher had a snake—one who’d gone missing after someone had forgotten to put the top back on his terrarium after feeding him.
Three days ago.
Apparently they’d also bumped the terrarium, which had put the snake’s stick against the wall, and Mrs. Russell had been hoping he’d show up somewhere.
Lucky me. I’m so glad he chose my classroom.
Jemma told Mrs. Russell that her pet would be returned shortly. Since Chase had been brave enough to catch the thing, she let him walk it down the hall as she played lookout in the doorway.
Once he’d returned to the classroom, she assigned the kids to read section twenty in their workbook so they could discuss it in a few minutes.
She flopped down at her desk, and her heart slowly returned to beating at a normal pace. But her mind was still racing.
Where in the heck have I moved that snakes falling from the ceiling seems like a fairly normal occurrence?
“Okay, time to pack up for the day. Gather your belongings and line up at the door.” Jemma stood, and everyone rushed forward at once. She held up her hands. “In an orderly fashion, or everyone will have to sit back down.”
She should’ve added that first. Man, how did she get so rusty?
She labeled each row and called them forward to line up. The bell rang, and she opened the door, wishing each of her students a good day as they exited to meet older siblings or parents or file over to the bus.
One of the parents stepped up to introduce herself, a strawberry-blond, chubby-cheeked baby on her hip. “Hello, I’m Chase Matthews’ mom, Wendy.”
“Oh, hello. Jemma Monroe. Your son was a huge help today.”
Wendy’s eyebrows arched up, and Jemma wondered why she w
as so surprised. Sure, Chase had trouble sitting still, but he was respectful enough and had totally saved her with the snake. Her heart always went out to kids who thought they were trouble because adults kept telling them they were, and honestly, she couldn’t help but like funny kids who marched to the beat of their own drum. Probably because she’d been like them back in her elementary school days.
Fortunately, she’d had a few teachers who’d seen through the fidgeting and random outbursts of information that had nothing to do with the subject they’d been discussing.
Jemma quickly relayed the story about the snake to Wendy Matthews. Pride radiated from Chase as he puffed out his chest, an ear-to-ear grin plastered on his face.
“I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through the day without him,” Jemma added, completely sincere. If it’d been up to her to grab that snake, she’d still be working up the courage.
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. He’s real helpful around the house, and so good with his sister.” Wendy ran her hand over her son’s head, and a mushy sensation flooded Jemma’s chest. “I meant to talk to you about his spurs, but we were running late this morning. He got them for Christmas, and it’s all I can do to get him to take them off to sleep. I told him if they were too distracting, or if he got into trouble, he wouldn’t be able to wear them anymore.”
“It makes me feel better to know I have a cowboy-slash-snake wrangler in class,” Jemma said, and then she wished him and his mom goodbye.
Bailey was last in line, patiently waiting for Jemma to finish her conversation.
She turned her full attention to the girl with the awesome sense of style and cheery attitude. “Thanks again for helping introduce me to the class.”
“You did a good job today,” Bailey said, all matter-of-fact. “I think this is going to work out nicely.”
Jemma laughed. The girl was definitely advanced for her age, in speech and, as she’d found out earlier today, in reading. “Why, thank you. That’s high praise.” Praise she wasn’t sure Bailey’s dad would agree with. And why did she keep thinking about Wyatt Langford?
After he’d seemed so huffy while digging her car out, she’d been set to avoid him at all costs. She’d renewed that goal when she’d overheard him talking about her.
But that last interaction, where he’d smiled at her, two grooves showing up in his cheeks as he’d wished her good luck and had added that teasing “city-slicker neighbor,” made it hard to want to permanently avoid the guy.
She wondered about Bailey’s mom. Maybe her parents were one of those couples who lived together and didn’t think they needed a marriage certificate and rings to make it official. To each their own, but once she found her one and only, she wanted a certificate and a ring and to shout it from the rooftops.
“What treat are you gonna get for making it through your first day?” Bailey asked her, bringing her back to the here and now.
“I haven’t had much time to think about it. Any suggestions?”
“Havenly Brew is just down the street, and it has these ginormous chocolate chip chocolate muffins.” Bailey made a circle with her hands, demonstrating how big. Then her arms dropped down by her sides. “That’s what I’m getting.”
“Mmm, that sounds amazing. I might have to stop by and try one for myself.”
Bailey nodded and readjusted her backpack. “You should. I’d better go. My dad is probably waiting, and he’s not the most patient.”
Jemma pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. No, he didn’t seem to be the most patient, although his love for his daughter was palpable, and that also made it hard to stay frustrated over his brusque manners.
Of course, she’d been accused of being a “chatty Cathy” before, so she understood that not everyone liked to make small talk as much as she did. Luckily, she was often surrounded by kids, and many of them were amazing at small talk.
“See you tomorrow,” Jemma called out as Bailey headed away from her.
With every one of her students off for the day, she turned and walked back inside her classroom. All in all, it had been a good day.
While the occasional teacher had mentioned her high heels at her old school, the entire staff here had gathered around at lunch to ask how she wore those “torture devices” all day—well, that and to tease her about the snake incident.
She’d made a joke that her heels weren’t the best for pushing cars out of the snow, and everyone had laughed. It had made her morning with the snow and unexpected serpentine visitor seem less disastrous.
She spent a few minutes straightening and setting up for tomorrow. She needed to plan her lesson, but now that Bailey had mentioned the chocolate muffin, her stomach grumbled every time food came to mind. She could use some coffee to ensure she had the extra energy she’d need.
Plus, she hoped the more time she gave the sun to melt the roads, the easier it’d be to get back to her cottage. It wasn’t like there’d been an abundance of places to rent in this tiny town, but now she was rethinking her decision to be on the outskirts. How much snow could one place get?
Probably enough that I shouldn’t tempt fate with that question.
On her way out of her classroom, she ran into Camilla. “How’d it go?” the woman asked as they continued down the mostly empty hallway. “I mean besides the snake incident, which ¡qué susto! I would’ve lost my mind.”
Jemma threw a hand to her chest, right over the spot where her heart was beginning to thump quicker at the mere memory of that forked tongue and beady eyes. “Oh, I screamed. Considered passing out.”
Her earring got hooked on her scarf again. She was going to have to remember not to wear this combination. “Other than that, things went pretty well. And again, I’m sorry about this morning. Tomorrow I’m going to leave even earlier.”
Not that it would do much good if she ended up stuck and had to wait for Wyatt and Bailey to come dig her out, but she was going to stick with optimism.
Camilla waved a hand through the air. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m sure our tiny town is quite a change from what you’re used to.”
Jemma nodded. “Admittedly, I was thrown off for the second time today when Chase Matthews told me a story about watching a cow give birth, but what was even funnier was how the rest of the class nodded like it was completely normal. Then a few added stories of their own about animal births, everything from cats to horses.”
Camilla laughed—she had a nice laugh too, one that set you at ease and made you happy at the same time. “Oh, yes. Small towns and farming communities have their own unique stories. I’m sure you’ve heard they’re famous for everyone being in everyone’s business and how fast news travels as well.”
“On movies and in TV, yes.”
“Good. Then let’s get right to it.” A gleam lit Camilla’s brown eyes as she leaned in and lowered her voice. “What’s up with you and Wyatt Langford?”
Chapter Five
Wyatt scraped his boots the best he could on the mat outside of the coffee shop before pulling open the door so Bailey Rae could bound inside.
He’d had to swing by Tractor Supply first so he could get a part ordered before the store closed for the day. In there, his dirt-caked jeans and boots fit in well enough, but April, the woman who owned the coffee shop, probably wouldn’t appreciate it if he dragged in mud.
Although, with all the snow now slushy and melting, the floors were probably a bit of a mess already.
While there were droplets of melted snow here and there, there wasn’t much mud. Or maybe the cherry wood floors simply hid it well. The exposed brick wall gave the place a warm feel, but he’d never really understood the pale-blue counters and blue and yellow mismatched chairs set around square tables. It took a lot of effort to match but not match on purpose.
As usual, the place was fairly packed, a mix of regulars and the after-sch
ool crowd filling all but a couple of tables.
In general, he didn’t stop by the shops in town as much as most people did. He simply didn’t have time. Owning a ranch meant his work was never done, and adding in things like homework, school programs, and the dance classes Bailey Rae took every Sunday afternoon meant he was forever behind.
The scent of coffee beans and freshly baked pastries hit him, and his mouth watered.
He had no problem admitting his skills in the kitchen were lacking, so he understood his daughter’s desire to stop for a treat he hadn’t made.
Thank goodness his sister sometimes took pity on him between taking care of her own family, or he and Bailes would probably have the same boring meal every single night. He’d grabbed the leftover stew from her earlier today and was more excited than usual for dinner, but he’d also told Lori that she now had two tiny kids to take care of and she didn’t need to worry about them. Helping with rides was more than enough, and if he ever caught up on work, he’d find a way to repay the many favors he owed his sister.
Sleep was overrated, anyway.
April gave them her signature welcoming smile, and it widened even more as she peered down at his colorful princess. “Why look at you, Miss Bailey Rae. I absolutely adore your outfit.”
Bailey Rae popped out a hip and struck a pose. He had no earthly idea where she’d learned that from. “Thank you! I worked so hard on it.” She moved closer to the register, her eyes scanning the glass case with the pastries and desserts. “I’m here for—”
“Lemme guess. A chocolate muffin.”
Bailey Rae vehemently nodded, a close-lipped smile on her face.
Over the summer, she’d lost her front teeth. They’d grown in by the beginning of the school year, but a month in, she’d asked if her adult teeth looked funny. If they were too big for her mouth and if they stuck out too far.