Country Hearts

by Cindi Madsen

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, as if neither one of them knew what to say. It felt more like they had too much to discuss instead of too little, and he worried the minute one of them started, everything would unravel.

  A clink sounded as Jemma set her fork on her plate. She’d crossed her legs and her foot was bouncing. It seemed more than her usual energetic manner, and immediately the muscles in his shoulders and arms tightened.

  Here it comes.

  “I, uh, have some news. Or not news but…” The swinging foot picked up speed, and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

  In that moment, he was sure she was going to tell him she was headed back to the city. Anna Lau’s maternity leave was almost up. He’d known it was coming, so why had every organ in his body gone into failure at once?

  He wasn’t sure how to fortify himself for the blow, but he did the best he could, putting on his best poker face. “What is it?” He was proud of how steady his voice came out.

  She licked her lips, and here he was focused on her mouth again. “There’s a drink. At Havenly Brew. Named after us.”

  He took a second to try to put what she’d said together, but her words still didn’t make sense. “There’s a what now?”

  Jemma reached up and wrapped a strand of her shiny dark hair around her finger. “You know how April has her drink of the week, and they all have cutesy names? Well, this week the special is a drink called the Wymma. Country chocolate with a city cinnamon kick. You, Wyatt, plus…”

  She blew out a breath. “It’s our names smashed together. I didn’t tell her to do it, but I figured I should warn you so you’re not blindsided when you go in there. If you go in there. But even if you don’t, someone will definitely say something to you, and I guess because of the half-court contest and we looked cozy at the play, so everyone just assumed…”

  Of course they couldn’t just assume. They had to talk about it. Didn’t they care that he was trying to keep his daughter from ever being a casualty of his failed relationships again? She’d already been the center of gossip before. People often asked aloud how a mom could leave her child behind, and he understood it was because they were trying to make Bailey Rae feel better about how her life had gone, but it only reminded her that her mom left.

  He recalled those first months afterward, when she’d cry out for Andrea. How he’d had to wipe his daughter’s tears as she’d asked in her quiet little voice why Mommy had left.

  The image of her curled into a ball on her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, punched him in the chest.

  “Your job only entails covering for Anna Lau’s maternity leave, correct?” The words burst out of him, and two creases showed up between Jemma’s eyebrows.

  “Weird subject change, but yeah.”

  Lead filled his lungs. That was what he was afraid of.

  “Are you upset? About the drink?”

  “Not at you,” he said, but her face dropped anyway.

  “Oh.” The legs of her chair scraped the floor as she scooted it away from the table, and he placed his hand on her knee.

  “It’s just if Bailey Rae hears people talking… That’s what I’m worried about.”

  She exhaled and then nodded. “I understand.”

  He was afraid she didn’t, not fully. “It’s not that I…” He glanced down at his lap. It wasn’t fair to deliver this speech without looking at her, despite making it more difficult to say what he needed to, so he forced his gaze back up. “Jemma, I enjoy spending time with you. But I have to worry about what people say to my daughter. I have to think of her first.”

  “Of course. I totally understand that.”

  It’d be so easy to give in to the allure. To let himself go. To try to believe in love again.

  Had he not learned his lesson already?

  Apparently not.

  Women from the city, they simply weren’t happy here long-term. She’d just confirmed the fact that she was only here temporarily. How many times did she have to say it until it’d finally sink in?

  Even before adding romance to the mix, his daughter was getting too attached, getting all wrapped up in the idea of more.

  Bailey Rae’s already going to be so devastated when Jemma leaves. If she even thinks there’s a possibility of more and it doesn’t work…

  Maybe he was a wimp for playing it safe, but he’d gone down that route before, and it’d ended badly. He couldn’t pick himself up again, and more than that, he couldn’t watch his daughter cry or hear her dejectedly ask why everyone always left.

  This whole situation was getting way too dangerous for Bailey Rae’s heart.

  And for his.

  Charging on with everything she wanted to say wasn’t easy after his last statement. She was relieved he wasn’t mad at her, but he hadn’t said anything encouraging about how he did feel about her.

  I enjoy spending time with you could be friends or more. Although she completely understood him thinking of Bailey. The last thing she wanted was to do anything that would hurt her or Wyatt.

  “You know I adore Bailey, right?”

  He nodded.

  She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell him everything, not when he wasn’t giving her anything to work with. “Well, I guess I’ll help you with these dishes.”

  Chicken.

  “Don’t bother with the dishes,” he said. “I’ll take care of them myself.”

  Did the same apply to her? “Don’t bother confessing that you care about me because it won’t change anything?”

  She didn’t want to disappoint Bailey about the lack of dessert, but she hadn’t planned anything, and she got the feeling Wyatt was kicking her out. He was merely too nice to come out and tell her to leave.

  “Well, it’ll be Monday morning before we know it.” She forced herself to her feet, every movement she made feeling like she was underwater, every sound and sensation bigger yet muted. “Guess I’d better go home and make sure I’m prepared.”

  Wyatt simply nodded again. Like his switch had been set to neutral. All those tender emotions she’d thought she’d seen in his eyes were gone, and he’d been replaced by a bobblehead.

  A very handsome bobblehead.

  She slipped on her coat, and when she reached for her bag of groceries, Wyatt lifted it before she could get a hold of it.

  “I’ll walk you out,” he said.

  Because he was a gentleman first.

  No, strike that. He was a dad first. A gentleman second.

  He’d make some lucky woman a very good husband one day. The thought made her ache. Made her long for the bravery she’d started the meal with. He’d shown her how to dance, leading and guiding and spinning her and then holding her tightly in his arms, his heart beating against her palm.

  Surely she hadn’t imagined the connection between them, the one that’d reached deep down into her soul and whispered that she recognized the soul staring back at her.

  The cold air filtered through her layers as if they didn’t exist, and a whinny carried over. Casper was near the gate, a smear of white in the dark.

  Wyatt placed her groceries in the trunk and led her to the driver’s side door.

  This time she wouldn’t lose her mind and fling her arms around him, thinking he was hugging her.

  She still had at least a couple weeks in town, so she wasn’t sure why every single second took on a desperate edge, like if she didn’t gather up the courage to tell him how she felt now, she’d never do it.

  Same way she’d waited way too long to confess her feelings for Simon. Months wasted crushing on a guy who hadn’t wanted anything more than friendship.

  I’m just going to do it. I’m going to confess my feelings and tell Wyatt I want more and see what he says.

  If she didn’t puke first, that was.

  “Wyatt, I have
to tell you something.” Her heart thudded so loud it echoed through her head, pounding a rapid pulse behind her temples.

  “Don’t worry about the drink, Jemma. I get it. I’ll talk to April and ask her to make a new concoction, one that doesn’t make us the center of the gossip.”

  Man, the guy just kept making it harder and harder. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “It’s not about the drink. Or I guess in a way it is.”

  His brow furrowed.

  “I…” She fidgeted with the ring on her finger, spinning it around and around. Just say it. “Over this past month, you and I’ve had a lot of disasters and a lot of laughs. I can’t thank you enough for teaching me how to build a fire, and cleaning my chimney, and for the movie nights and dinners. I’m glad you enjoy spending time with me, because I really enjoy spending time with you too.”

  His jawline went rigid. Because he was uncomfortable with emotion? Because he didn’t feel the same? Ugh, and they said women were the ones hard to read.

  Do it already.

  “I like you, Wyatt,” she continued, the words naked and raw as they hung in the air between them. “I appreciate the kindness and the friendship, but I think we’ve got something more going on between us. More than friendship. Maybe we could…” Her heart was going to beat right out of her chest if it didn’t go and explode on her first. “Try dating. See what happens.”

  He closed his eyes as if the words had slammed into him, and everything inside her deflated. Then his lids opened, his eyes boring into hers.

  “We know what happens,” he said softly. “We get attached, Bailey gets attached, and then we’ve got a mess on our hands because you’re leaving.”

  She sucked in a sharp inhale. Yes, he made a good point, but this kind of a connection didn’t come along every day. Not only did she care deeply about him, she cared about Bailey, and as more than a teacher. She wanted to spend her nights watching movies, eating s’mores, and dancing in the living room. She wanted to hold Wyatt’s hand and hug him and, yes, she absolutely wanted to kiss him.

  “What if I wasn’t?” Her words came out in a whisper, a puff of white air that faded so quickly for how huge of a moment it was for her.

  Wyatt swallowed hard. Not reaching for her. Not leaning in. His features were set. Too cold. “Jemma, I can’t give you what you want. It’s just not going to work out.”

  The ground swayed; she was sure it did. Pain radiated from her heart. She’d served it up to him on a silver platter, and he’d shoved it away. Just let it tumble to the ground.

  Stay strong. If you can’t do it for you, do it for Bailey. Who you have to see tomorrow morning. Blinking didn’t stop the tears from rising to her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, defeat heavy in the words.

  Well, at least she could say that this time she’d taken a chance. She’d spoken up. “It’s okay,” she whispered, despite not feeling okay.

  She reached up and ran her hand down his stubbled cheek, her way of saying goodbye to the possibility of them. “Goodnight, Wyatt. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’ll always remember it.”

  He stood stoic. Quiet. She turned to open her car door, but he beat her to it, and why did he still have to be so nice? Why couldn’t he be a jerk so it wouldn’t be so hard?

  Right before he closed the car door, he looked her straight in the eye, gave her a sad smile, and then said, “Goodbye, Jemma.”

  She cried all the way home. Which, sure, was only a couple of minutes, but long after she’d washed off her makeup and climbed into a bed to read a book, Señor Fluffypants beside her, the words on the page blurred her eyes, the tears continuing to flow.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “What happened?” Camilla asked as soon as Jemma walked into the teacher’s lounge for coffee Monday morning.

  It was more what hadn’t happened. She couldn’t go to Havenly Brew for fear that she’d see the Wymma drink on the chalkboard and cry. Or that someone would ask her about Wyatt and she’d cry.

  Or that Wyatt might be in there, possibly just to get coffee and muffins, and likely to tell April to take away the drink. If that was the case, oh, guess what? She’d cry.

  Clearly the makeup hadn’t hidden the fact that she’d cried herself to sleep, since Camilla continued to stare at her, concern swimming in her brown eyes. “Jemma? Chica?”

  Jemma sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. It was ridiculous to hurt so much over a guy she hadn’t technically dated—yeah, that stung—but she had known him better than she’d known most of the guys she’d dated. “Wyatt doesn’t want to be more than friends. I’m not even sure he wants to be that anymore, actually.”

  Camilla adamantly shook her head. “That can’t be true. I saw the way he looked at you. Heck, the entire town’s seen the way he looks at you.”

  “It wasn’t enough.” I wasn’t enough, she thought, letting herself sink into the darkness for a weak moment.

  Camilla wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a big consoling hug. “I don’t understand.”

  “It didn’t work out. I took a chance, and I crashed and burned.” Jemma couldn’t help the sniff that came out. She pulled away, wiped underneath her eyes in an attempt to keep her mascara from running down her face, and did her best to reassure herself that eventually, the hurt would fade. “Now, can we please talk about something else, because I need to go in and force myself to be cheery in front of my students.”

  “Sure. You name it, we talk about it.”

  “How about…?” Her mind searched for a safe subject, one that might have a chance at bringing her joy. “Shoes.”

  “Okay.” Camilla tapped her lip and then her eyes widened. “Ooh, did you know there’s one of those gently used resale shops the town over? They have some fabulous shoes, very fancy brands, half the price.”

  “That’s my favorite kind of price besides free.”

  “I’m not sure free is a price,” Camilla lightly teased with a grin. “Right now, I’m glad we didn’t hire you for your math skills.”

  Jemma snorted a laugh. She could hardly believe she could laugh with her heart all mangled in her chest, no longer beating right. It was like it’d started to beat for Wyatt, and now it didn’t remember how to function without him around.

  Camilla wrapped and arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the burbling coffee maker and tower of community mugs. “Let’s grab you some coffee and get you ready for the day.”

  Instead of fighting it and telling her new friend she could do it herself, the way she would’ve when she’d first moved here, she went ahead and gave in, glad to have someone to lean on for a few minutes.

  The day had been one of her rougher ones teaching, but tomorrow they’d dig into her Hiding Homophones lesson, and she always dressed up as a detective that day. Sherlock Holmes hat and magnifying glass and everything to help them suss out the words that sounded alike. The kids loved it.

  Twenty minutes before the bell was set to ring, Camilla knocked on her open door. “You have a visitor.”

  Jemma’s heart skipped a couple of beats. Had Wyatt changed his mind? Did he miss her as much as she already missed him?

  “Class,” Camilla continued, “Mrs. Lau wanted to come say hi and let you meet her baby.”

  Okay, so that you was a collective you, and how on earth had her brain jumped to such a far-out conclusion?

  They say time healed all wounds, but she was afraid she might not ever get over the dang cowboy who lived next door.

  Since she didn’t have time for moping, Jemma shoved those fears to the background, stood, and instructed the class to use the hand sanitizer station and form a line.

  Three at a time, the students came up to see their previous teacher and her baby boy. The tiny infant had a full head of dark, thick hair and cheeks so big he seemed to have to work to lift
them in a smile.

  Basically, he was adorable.

  The kids asked a lot of questions, and Jemma let Mrs. Lau guide most of the discussion. When it came down to it, this was still her class. Jemma was only borrowing it.

  A sharp pang lanced her heart. She’d definitely gotten attached to more than the cowboy.

  At the hand on her arm, she glanced down.

  Bailey. Gosh, it was hard enough to see her in the classroom and know she’d never fully be part of her life, not in the way she’d started to foolishly hope for.

  “Would you like to have a baby someday?” she yell-whispered in that way kids did when they were attempting to be quiet, but they just weren’t very good at it. “I’d kind of like a sister or a brother.”

  Everything inside Jemma froze. Was Bailey saying…?

  It hit her then that maybe Wyatt had been right. It was going to be hard enough for Bailey when she left. She wasn’t being overly confident. She could tell when she sincerely connected with a student, and she’d instantly had that sort of same soul recognition with the blond, brown-eyed angel staring up at her.

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s a long way off yet. You need a husband to have a baby.” Maybe not precisely true, but for her, that was what it’d take. She wanted a partner and a more conventional family.

  “Well, I know where you could find one.” Bailey’s eyebrows arched so high they disappeared in her mass of curls.

  “Why don’t you go say hi to the baby?” Jemma nudged her forward, and Bailey started to drag her feet, but then an aww came out, leaving her sufficiently distracted.

  Once there were only a couple of minutes left before the bell rang, Jemma instructed the kids to grab their coats and backpacks and line up.

  “Thanks for taking such great care of my class while I’m gone,” Mrs. Lau said as she readjusted the baby blanket, and Jemma couldn’t help noticing the green tractors on the fabric, which made it impossible not to think of the guy she was doing her best not to think about. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m loving it. They’re a great class.”