by Cindi Madsen
Made him feel helpless.
This was too dangerous. He needed to put a stop to it before it was too late. So he decided he’d help Jemma out with her chimney by cleaning it when both she and his daughter were at school, and then he’d put some much-needed space between them.
Chapter Eleven
A strange sense of nostalgia hit Wyatt as he and Dempsey stepped inside the restaurant on Wednesday night.
His friend had shown up as promised, wearing nice jeans and a button-down instead of scrubs. After he’d declared Zora good enough to remove the boots and had told him to give her about fifteen minutes of slow walking for a week or so before riding her, they’d piled into his truck and driven to Crossroads Bar and Grill, where one of their former classmates now ran his family restaurant.
Same way they used to back in high school, since there was only the diner and coffee shop in Haven Lake. Crossroads was in the middle of five small farming communities, making it a hub for all of them. Back in the day, it used to be the place they went to see people—girls, mostly—from other schools.
It’d been where he and Andrea had met up a lot when dating, since it meant they both drove about half an hour instead of either of them having to drive a full one. In a small community, avoiding places with those conflicted-type memories wasn’t an option. There were a lot of good memories too, though.
Like the time Dempsey and some guy from another school had argued over who got to choose the music on the jukebox before collectively deciding to play nothing but some cheesy, overly mushy movie soundtrack song no one wanted to listen to. By the fifth time it had started up, everyone had been groaning, covering their ears, and begging for mercy.
The multicolored jukebox still sat in its usual corner, and he’d bet money they hadn’t updated it in years. Fortunately he was the age now where that sounded nice, because as old as it made him feel to say it, they just didn’t make music anymore like they did back then.
His feet felt glued to the entryway, unable to lift and propel him forward when he saw the place was fairly packed, especially for a Wednesday night. “You’re right. I think I forgot how to do this.”
Dempsey clapped him on the back. “The walking thing, or ordering at a restaurant, or…?”
“Yes,” he said with a laugh. It felt weird to be out. Even weirder being thirty minutes away from home. Bailey Rae was with Lori and her kids, so he knew she was in good hands, but it still felt odd going out to eat without her.
Sometimes he longed for a night out with his buddies, but he found he missed his daughter’s constant chatter. She filled in all his blank spaces, and he had a whole lot of them.
Nick waved from behind the bar, and that made it easier to head on inside. They exchanged bro-hugs over the beat-up wood surface. “Wyatt Langford in the flesh. When Dempsey told me you’d be with him tonight, I couldn’t believe it.”
“Actually, you bet me money, so you now owe me five bucks,” Dempsey said, and they laughed.
“I have big news,” Nick started, but then a customer at the other end waved him over and he lifted a finger. “Give me a minute, and I’ll have my sister come out and cover so I can chat with you guys.”
He rushed toward the customer, the same way his father used to whenever they’d come in. It made Wyatt realize that out of the three of them, Dempsey was the only one who wasn’t following in his father’s professional footsteps.
“Been working on a truck?” Dempsey asked, jerking his chin at Wyatt’s blackened fingertips and nailbeds. No amount of scrubbing could get out oil when he was working on a vehicle. It took days and a lot of citrus, grease-cutting soap, and usually by then he’d end up elbow deep in a truck or tractor again, so he’d about given up.
But for once, his fingers weren’t black from a vehicle.
It was from cleaning out Jemma’s chimney.
“A truck. A chimney. Tractors. A bit of it all.” That was mostly true too, if he counted the past week.
Once spring hit and multiple cows started having babies on the same day, it’d be a crazy blur, and then summer would come around and it’d be time to start tending to crops and eventually the harvest. Which meant he had to work on his vehicles now.
His phone seemed to burn in his pocket, though, making him want to reread the text Jemma had sent thanking him for taking care of her clogged chimney. He hadn’t replied, telling himself it was an open-and-shut conversation, but it was crazy how often he’d wanted to.
Nick walked back to them, still behind the bar. “Want me to grab drinks before I sit down?”
They added burgers and fries to their drink order, and within a couple of minutes, they’d settled at a table in the corner, Nick included.
“So what’s this big news?” Dempsey asked.
“Remember Virginia Parsons?”
Wyatt and Dempsey both nodded. She and Nick had dated the summer before she’d gone off to college, and the guy had been mopey for months afterward, constantly saying no other woman compared.
“Well, we ran into each other about four months ago and sort of picked up from where we left off, and…” A wide grin split Nick’s face. “Long story short, we’re engaged.”
Dempsey tipped his drink toward him. “Congrats, man.”
“Yeah, congrats,” Wyatt added, and they clinked their glasses together.
Their burgers and fries showed up, and Wyatt dug in. It was good not to have the same tired meals he always cooked, and even nicer he hadn’t had to make it.
“What about you guys?” Nick picked up a French fry and dragged it through his ketchup. “What’s going on in your lives?”
“Work,” Wyatt said.
Dempsey nodded. “About the same.” He told Nick he was newly single, and then both of Wyatt’s friends turned their gaze on him, as if he’d have some grand confession about his dating life.
“Why are you looking at me? I’ve got work and Bailey Rae. That’s it.”
Dempsey pivoted in his seat, setting his forearm on the table. “I heard something about you and your neighbor, the new school teacher.”
Every muscle in Wyatt’s body froze. “Oh, yeah?”
Dempsey cocked his head. “Really? You’re not going to spill? I met her briefly in the coffee shop, and we had a funny conversation about her bunny once she found out I was the town vet. She seems nice. Pretty too.”
“Nothing to spill. She’s my nice neighbor who teaches my daughter.” She was also funny and pretty, but he didn’t think he could agree with those without his friends seeing how much he’d accidentally let himself like Jemma. He took a bite of his burger. “Why? What did you hear?”
Wyatt squeezed his burger so hard his patty nearly slipped out of his bun. He’d been trying so hard to avoid the rumor mill—for Bailey Rae’s sake—and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he also needed to know if he had to do damage control.
“Just a lot of people in town saying you two would make a good couple. You know, the usual.”
“Yeah, they said that about me and the new dance teacher for a while too,” Wyatt said. “With you single now, I’m surprised they’re not trying to pair Jemma up with you.”
Dempsey shrugged. “I’ve kept the fact that I’m not still attached on the down-low, although they’ll find out soon, no doubt. They tried to pair me with the dance teacher before they attempted it with you.”
“Why do they always do that? Pair people up?”
“It comes from a place of love. They think they’re helping,” Nick said, although with him running the restaurant full-time and the fact that they’d always lived on the far outskirts, it meant he rarely made it to Haven Lake these days.
Or maybe he did. Maybe Wyatt was the one who wasn’t in town enough to know.
“Nick’s engaged, and I’m still recovering from a fresh breakup.” Dempsey twisted to face him, giving h
im a pointed look. “It’s been years since you’ve dated.”
About three years if he were counting, which he was trying not to do. “What? You’re saying I’m up? Like dating’s a baseball game, and I’m supposed to take my turn at bat?”
“I’m saying you might at least want to take a swing. You can’t win if you refuse to play.”
He got the logic, but he didn’t think winning was an option. What his friends didn’t understand was what it felt like to be a father and have to experience the same emotions your kid went through.
Didn’t understand what it was like telling your daughter that her mom had left. Then, shortly after, that her grandma was also moving away. He understood his mom’s need to head to Florida, both to ease her grief over losing Dad and to take care of her elderly parents, but it’d been one more transition period. Another person she loved leaving.
For a while, she’d asked Lori when she was going to move, since everyone else had.
Wyatt shook his head. “I’m not going down that road again.”
“Ever?” Nick asked, all shock.
Yep, the man was definitely in love. If he lived in town, he’d probably be pushing him together with Jemma or any other single woman who so much as visited as well. “‘Never say never’ and all that, but I’m not making the same mistakes. And I always have to think of Bailey Rae and what she needs.”
“Speaking of,” Nick said, “you should bring Bailey in some time. I haven’t seen that girl in way too long. And I want her to meet my fiancée.”
From there they talked about summer, when they could get together to grill and catch up, and Wyatt accidentally peeked at his phone and brought up the text from Jemma again, smiling at the rambling stream of sentences of words and wishing—just for a minute or two—that things could be different.
Chapter Twelve
As the students gathered their backpacks and lined up to leave, Chase turned to say something to Bailey, and she beamed at him like he’d lassoed the moon and offered it to her.
Growing up, Jemma had crushed hard and often, so she knew that twitterpated look all too well. These days, she tried to be more careful. It simply hurt too much when feelings were unreciprocated—that was what she’d decided after a wasted year of pining after Simon.
Last weekend, though, she’d slipped, and she may or may not have given Wyatt the same adoring expression when he’d dropped her off Saturday night and made sure she’d be warm enough.
Bailey continued to give Chase a love-struck smile as he turned to his buddies. He mentioned how excited he was to work on the tree house he was building with his dad that weekend.
Oh, Bailey. Be careful.
While Chase was a good kid, there were several girls who’d batted their eyes at him in that same way, and while she felt protective of all her students, she felt extra protective of Bailey.
The chime on her phone went off, and she told her students to line up at the door.
They’d all filed into a nice straight row by the time the bell rang.
One more day in the books, Jemma thought as she opened the door.
She bid farewell to each of her students, and when Bailey walked past, she skimmed her hand along the top of her fabulous curls. “See you tomorrow, Miss Bailey Rae.”
The girl affectionately squeezed Jemma’s hand, and her heart went all squishy on her. “Tomorrow I get to shoot my arrows, right?”
“Yep. Tomorrow we’ll have all the props for the play.”
“I can’t wait. Also, did you know it’s my birthday on Saturday?”
“I saw that in my notes. How about I wish you a happy early birthday today and tomorrow?”
Bailey skipped outside, and Jemma automatically scanned the area, searching for a familiar brown cowboy hat.
Wyatt had texted her on Tuesday around noon to let her know he’d cleaned and tested her chimney, so she was in the clear to start a fire and shouldn’t have any more problems with smoke.
She’d sent a rambling thank you message about how much she appreciated it. Then she’d anxiously waited a return text.
And waited some more.
For a reply that still hadn’t come, two whole days later, and she’d been obsessing about it way too much.
At least being in charge of a large group of children kept her mentally and physically busy, but every day after school as she glanced toward the sea of the parents and offered smiles and waves, her mind went to Wyatt.
She’d thought they’d made progress—that they’d been crossing into at least friend territory—but she’d seen his horse this week more than she’d seen him.
It almost felt like she’d imagined their fun night and the spark between them
Maybe it’s for the best.
She sighed and sat at her desk to tend to her large pile of grading. With play preparations and practice taking up a large chunk of her time, she’d gotten behind in other areas, including her online courses.
She could probably get more done if she went home instead of staying at the school, where people often paused in her open doorway to say a quick hello that often turned into more. Her social interactions had hit an all-time high.
But when she got home at the end of the day, she still felt lonely, lonelier than usual.
That was the thing about spending time with other people who were funny and made you feel accepted—it made you miss not having it even more when it went away.
And that’s why they call it a crush. In the end, you feel like a bug that someone’s stomped on.
Her phone vibrated across her desk, the buzz the only sound since she’d left it on silent mode. When Randa’s name flashed across the screen, she quickly swiped to answer.
“How’s your country adventure going?” her friend asked. “Any more animal adventures? Should I call in a snake hunter? Are you going to have a YouTube channel soon?”
“Ha-ha. Just sticking to bunnies and horses, mostly, although I did see a teeny-tiny baby calf. Oh, and you should see the play we’re doing. It’s called ‘Cupid Goes Crazy.’ We did a gender-swap thing and have one of the girls playing Cupid. She shoots all the wrong people with arrows, and it’s so cute and funny how it unfolds, but of course in the end it’s about showing kindness and love to everyone. It’s seriously the most adorable thing ever.”
“Sounds like my kind of show.”
Jemma shuffled papers around. “It’s going to sell out for sure with the whole town coming,” she joked, although she was also sure there’d be a full house. “So if you want tickets, you’d better tell me soon.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Randa said. “I miss you, and I sort of want to see this small town for myself.”
“That would be awesome.”
“Plus, then I could meet your cowboy neighbor.”
A bit of Jemma’s excitement leaked out of her, like a balloon without a knot. If it wasn’t the people in town, it was her best friend. “He’s… We’re… He’s been quiet this week. Which is fine, because we’re just friends—or more like neighbors. And I need to focus.”
Now that Randa had mentioned Wyatt, though, it was all Jemma could focus on. She’d been so close to calling her best friend Saturday night to tell her how much fun she’d had with him and Bailey, all because she’d smoked herself out of her own place.
Now she was glad she hadn’t. It’d make Randa’s questions even more probing, and scrape at the raw part of her that was sad she didn’t have more to report.
Headlights cut through the dark, winding down the road at the far end of the ranch. They turned right at the fork in the road, which confirmed it was Jemma. Coming home late.
Not talking to her this week had been harder than Wyatt had ever imagined it’d be.
A soft moo came from his side, and a pink nose nudged his hand. Thanks to Bailey Rae, their first calf of the season tho
ught he was a puppy.
Wyatt ran his hand down the fuzzy calf’s head and neck and gave its side a pat. “Do you think Jemma’s getting home late on a Friday night because of work, or because she was out on a date?”
The calf mooed.
Like a totally sane person, he replied. “Yeah, I don’t like either option, either. But what am I supposed to do? I decided it was a bad idea.” He also wasn’t sure if she’d felt the same pull between them that he had.
But again, it didn’t matter.
A few minutes later, he could just make out gray puffs of smoke coming out of her chimney and fading into the dark sky. At least he knew that her fireplace worked and she was warm.
Before he’d realized what he was doing, he’d dug his phone out of his pocket. He wanted to text Jemma and ask how she was. He eyed the friendly calf and found it looking right back at him with those dark pupils. Its tongue dangled out of its mouth as it nudged his hand, and now that he had cow slobber on his hands, he was thinking he shouldn’t have taken off his gloves.
“Thanks a lot,” Wyatt said, wiping his hand on his dust-coated jeans. He wasn’t sure if he’d just made his skin cleaner or dirtier.
Because he was a big softy, he grabbed a nearby livestock blanket and secured it around the calf. Yeah. Bailey Rae’s the only reason he acts like a puppy. You keep telling yourself that.
Eventually he pried himself away, exhausted and ready to call it a day. Or a night. Either way, it’d been a long one.
The porch steps creaked with his weight as he walked up to the front door. He stomped off his boots and batted at the dust, and then decided that was as good as it was going to get—one of the benefits of being the only adult was no one got upset at him for dragging in too much of the outside. With him bringing in dirt and Bailey Rae forever making crafts with glitter, their messes were at least interesting.
The screen door banged closed behind him, and he glanced at his daughter, who was on the couch with her tablet. “What’s the homework situation?” he asked.