Country Hearts

by Cindi Madsen

  The baby started to fuss, and Mrs. Lau extended the bundle to Jemma. “Can you hold him for a quick minute?”

  She handed the chunk over before Jemma could reply, and then dug in her diaper bag, muttering to herself about a pacifier.

  The baby settled down as Jemma swayed from side to side and cooed at him. As she peered into the precious little face, she knew that someday she did want a baby. She wanted everything.

  Right now, she couldn’t help thinking she’d wanted it with Wyatt, but surely she’d meet someone else who was willing to deal with her quirks and who liked her for her. A guy who’d care if she was warm enough and prepared for winter storms.

  Who’d care if she’d ridden a horse before.

  Mrs. Lau finally came up with the pacifier and took the baby, right as the bell rang. Jemma thanked her for stopping in and moved over to the door to dismiss the students.

  The air was on the warmer side today, bringing in sunshine and a whisper of spring instead of biting cold.

  Spring in Haven Lake was probably even more beautiful, miles and miles of land with trees that’d be all leafy green. New grass. Fields of corn or wheat or whatever crops grew around here. Wildflowers—she bet they had those.

  I can’t wait to see it.

  The realization that Mrs. Lau’s maternity leave would officially be up in two more weeks hit her. Which meant that if she didn’t find another position where she could fill in here, she wouldn’t see it. She’d paid two months’ rent, so she could always stay till the end of February, but what was the point if she didn’t have a job?

  Yes, she could do her online classes, but being so close to Wyatt and Bailey, yet so far away…

  Her heart caught as she spotted the familiar tan hat in the crowd. Bailey ran over to Wyatt and gave him a hug.

  Why was he here?

  Well, obviously he was picking up Bailey, but he usually waited in the truck.

  He gave a half nod without really looking at Jemma, and that same pain that’d crashed into her last night washed over her again.

  And as she watched them walk away, on to their life without her, for the first time in weeks, she couldn’t wait to go back to the city.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  How pathetic was he, rejecting Jemma and then showing up after school every day for a tiny glance? It hurt every time, so Wyatt wasn’t sure why he couldn’t stop doing it. He just needed to see that she was okay.

  But he’d seen the hurt flicker through her eyes, so he was pretty sure he was doing more damage than good.

  By Thursday afternoon, he’d decided he was done. No more thinking about Jemma. Okay, that was also impossible. But no more swinging by.

  He was at the coffee shop today. April apologized for naming a drink after him and Jemma. She’d said Camilla had come in and demanded she change it, so the drink of the week was now a mint chocolate latte with a hint of coconut, called Mint to Be.

  Which just reminded him of Jemma, anyway.

  Because he wasn’t indulging in seeing her for a few seconds after school anymore, he decided to get the stupid drink, and dang if it wasn’t delicious. That made him wonder how the Wymma had tasted.

  He knew what it felt like to almost be with Jemma. To be happier. For his skin to hum from her nearness, and how his heart went crazy at the lightest brush of her fingers. How he wished he could go back in time to the night she’d hugged him so he could hold her in his arms and memorize what it felt like so he could torture himself with that as well.

  How had she gotten past every one of his barriers so quickly and so easily?

  Man, what a sappy sentimental fool he was turning into.

  “Everything okay?” April asked, and he wasn’t sure he liked the discerning arch of her brow, as if she could figure out what was wrong with him, so why couldn’t he?

  “Yep. Just fine.” He lifted his drink. “This is real good, by the way. Guess I should try the drink of the week more often.”

  “Thank you. And I think trying new things, being open to possibilities that could make you happier in general, is good for you.”

  They gawked at each other, neither backing down.

  Then the blessed chime of the door broke off their staring contest. Lainey Townsend came in, laptop bag over one shoulder, a leashed goat by her side.

  Wait. What? Wyatt did a double take. He’d seen a lot of crazy things in this town, but a leashed, pajama-wearing baby goat in the coffee shop was a new one.

  His surprise must’ve shown, because Lainey said, “He’s my service goat.”

  He lowered his eyebrows. He’d heard about people taking all sorts of animals on planes under the guise of service animals—and he was sure some were legit—but goat was a new one.

  Lainey lightly punched his shoulder. “Just kidding, Wyatt. He’s just the needy runt of the litter, and the last time I left him at home, he ate half my grandma’s afghan as well as one of her hearing aids. I’ve got to get some work done before I take him to the clinic so Dempsey can give him a checkup, and April was nice enough to agree to let me bring him in for a bit.”

  April rounded the corner and squatted down in front of the goat. “Look at you, little cutie. Do you eat things you’re not supposed to? Huh?”

  It bleated and nibbled on the string of her apron.

  Under other circumstances, he’d laugh or at least smile, but he couldn’t help thinking Jemma should see this, and how much he wanted to tell her about it, and then all he felt was empty.

  I’ve gotta get out of here before I end up having a breakdown where I sit at a table and pour my heart out to a busybody coffee shop owner, my neighbor, and a freaking goat.

  He called out a farewell and hightailed it home.

  Later that day, after taking care of some of the ranch chores, he walked into the house and glanced at Bailey Rae, seated at the table, homework out in front of her. Her legs were swinging, much like Jemma’s did whenever she sat down.

  His daughter lifted her head and gave him an exasperated look. She’d been doing that a lot, not telling him why, but he had a sneaking suspicion she was wondering why he was too dense to follow her cupid plan.

  He wanted to tell her he was trying to protect her, but he couldn’t, because he never wanted her to feel like she was responsible for people leaving. For relationships that didn’t work out.

  Her swinging legs stopped, and she tilted her head. “Hey, Dad?”

  Instinctively he could tell he wasn’t going to like what came next—something in her tone. So he took a deep breath to steel himself and asked, “What?”

  “How ’bout we invite Jemma over for dinner? Or we can go over there. I’d like to pet Señor Fluffypants without everyone else crowding me. Ooh, and I bet she’d show me all the shoes and purses she has in her closet.”

  A deep, breath-robbing ache radiated through his chest. “I’m sure she’s busy.”

  “But how can you be sure if you don’t call and ask?”

  He infused his voice with decisiveness. “I just know.”

  Bailey frowned at him, as if he must be exceedingly dense, and honestly, he was wondering himself. “How about I call?”

  Evidently he hadn’t done a good enough job of using his stern dad voice. “How about you do your homework?”

  “I can call her and ask about my homework. Good idea.” Bailey Rae reached for the phone.

  “Bailes, put the phone down. Come unload the dishwasher so I can start dinner.”

  “I thought you wanted me to do my homework.”

  She’d never been a bad kid. Sure, every now and again he had to remind her to do her chores or nudge a little, but she hadn’t talked back like this before, either. This time he didn’t hold back. He gave her the dad glare, no wiggle room. “Sounds like you want to be grounded.”

  With an epic sigh, she hauled her
self out of the chair and sulkily stormed into the kitchen. The plates and cups rattled as she pulled open the dishwasher, and with the way she was slamming down bowls and banging the cupboard doors, he’d be surprised if the dishes and the house survived.

  To be honest, he kind of wished he didn’t have to be the adult and he could slam a few doors too.

  Once the dishwasher was empty, his daughter turned to him. The frustration lingered in her big brown eyes and the set of her jaw, but there was a hint of sorrow that yanked at his heartstrings.

  “Why won’t you talk to Jemma anymore?” she asked.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re too young to understand.”

  “Young doesn’t have anything to do with understanding. Plus, I’m really smart.”

  Wyatt exhaled and squatted in front of his daughter. “You are. Smartest girl I know. It’s just complicated, baby girl. Jemma doesn’t live here.”

  “I know. She lives next door.”

  Naturally his daughter couldn’t make this easy on him. “She’s only in Haven Lake temporarily. She’s going to head back to the city soon.”

  “Maybe she wouldn’t, though, if she had a reason to stay.”

  For a short while maybe, but his life would never be enough to keep her happy long-term. “Once you’re an adult, you have a lot of responsibilities. Jemma also wants to work in school administration, and I don’t wanna ask her to give up on a job she’s been working for and dreaming of. I just need you to understand that she cares about you, and I care about you. Neither of those things will ever change, no matter what happens. Okay?”

  His daughter’s bottom lip quivered, but she lifted her chin and nodded.

  He pulled her into his arms, his heart aching right along with hers. Hugs had been getting shorter as she got older, but this time she fully wrapped her arms around him and squeezed for all she was worth.

  Snippets from his daughter’s life flashed through his head, of her first steps and her first words. How after Andrea had left, he’d go to drop her off for first grade, and she’d extend her arms for him and cry. It was all he could do to force himself to leave her there, and it took a whole month until she’d stopped crying.

  There were years when she’d had to come along with him everywhere, making work twice as long. But she’d learned what it took to take care of the animals and the land, and when he’d been able to teach her to string and fire the bow he’d had when he was younger, they’d begun connecting more, differing hobbies notwithstanding.

  She was his whole world.

  He’d do anything to keep her from experiencing heartbreak again. He realized that wasn’t totally possible, unfortunately, but he’d do everything he could for as long as he could.

  Even if it meant experiencing his own heart breaking as Jemma Monroe left town for good.

  “You would’ve been so proud,” Jemma said to Randa, who’d called to check in. The tech gods must’ve felt sorry for her, because FaceTime was actually working, allowing her to see her best friend’s face. It did make it a bit harder not to burst into tears, but she’d still take it.

  “I got up the courage to tell Wyatt how I felt, and I just put it out there. I told him I wanted to be more than friends.” Her voice broke and she gave a super attractive sniff. “Of course, since he didn’t feel the same way, I sort of wish I would’ve kept on being a coward.”

  Randa gave her a sympathetic look. “Oh, hon.” She softened her voice. “At least now you know.”

  Jemma would like to agree, but part of her would’ve rather gone on living in Delusionland, where she, Wyatt, and Bailey could keep on acting like a happy family.

  The image onscreen wobbled as Randa set her phone on her bathroom counter and pulled her long blond hair into a ponytail. “What exactly did he say?”

  The grief she’d barely kept at bay spilled over. “That he couldn’t give me what I wanted and that it wasn’t going to work out. Basically, he was trying to nicely say he only wanted to be friends. You’d think I’d learn.” Fresh pain wrenched her already-beat-up heart. “Maybe I’m destined to only ever be the buddy.”

  “That’s not true. I could hear how much you liked him, though, and I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  Señor Fluffypants nudged Jemma’s hand, as if he saw she was sad and wanted to comfort her. Most likely he just wanted carrots, but she liked her version better, so she picked him up and snuggled him close. “And now I need a job again.”

  Randa grabbed her phone, and the screen went a bit jumbly again as she started down the stairs to her apartment. “Do you want me to poke around?”

  The downer side wanted to say, why bother? They’d already poked around a couple of months ago. “If you hear of anything, let me know. At least I’ll have my Masters in May. That should help.” Lately she’d been reconsidering how much she wanted a job in administration, mostly when she contemplated not being in the classroom anymore. Regardless, her degree would help her move up a tier when it came to qualifications and being a more desirable candidate.

  “It will. For sure. And at least we have something to celebrate—soon you’ll be back living here by me so we can hang out.”

  During her first couple of weeks in Haven Lake, all she could do was compare the country to the city and think of everything she missed. Now she felt the same way but reversed. The idea of never going into the coffee shop, country dancing with Camilla and her co-workers—of not being around when Dorothy burst into her glass-shattering soprano in the middle of a conversation—sliced and stung.

  How could she go about her life without so many of the familiar faces she’d grown to love?

  Leaving her students was also going to be impossibly hard. She wasn’t sure she could say goodbye to Bailey without bursting into tears, and she was supposed to be a grownup, not go around upsetting the children.

  But they’re not your students. You were just borrowing them for a while.

  She sniffed again.

  “I wish I could reach through the phone and hug you,” Randa said, settling on to the couch in her apartment with a spoon and a carton of ice cream.

  “Me too.” Jemma did miss her friend something fierce, so she was going to attempt to go the silver-lining route and focus on how soon she’d be back home and this would be a fond memory she occasionally recalled.

  Ah, remember how I lived in the country for a couple of months? How the roads weren’t plowed and I became half of a drink in the coffee shop and a horse knocked on my door?

  How I spent time with a cowboy and his adorable daughter and fell in love.

  Misery gushed from the hole in her heart. Maybe she’d skip recalling that last part. And how could she have let herself fall in love?

  But she knew she had, her efforts to take it slow fruitless.

  This adventure had ended up being as hazardous as her dictionary had warned it’d be.

  She just had to get through the Valentine’s Day play, and then she could focus on the next step in her tumultuous life.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Slow, deep breaths helped Jemma stay on the edge of hyperventilating instead of giving in to it. She shouldn’t be so nervous. The kids were the ones who had to be out on stage. But she’d helped organize the entire event, and soon, most of the townsfolk would pour through the double doors of the gym.

  Soon, Wyatt Langford would come through those doors.

  No matter how much she fortified herself, it was going to hurt. But at least she had something else to cling on to. Randa had called her earlier today with good news.

  Great news, actually, and she knew she’d feel more happiness about it once the curtain closed on this whole production.

  “Jemma?”

  She spun toward Camilla and threw her arms around her, nearly knocking her tiny friend right over.

  The principal’s surp
rise only lasted a second or two, then she hugged her back. “What’s this for?”

  “Everything.”

  “All-encompassing. I like it.”

  Jemma laughed. “For giving me a shot and taking me in and all your help. Most of all, for your friendship.”

  Camilla’s forehead puckered as she pulled back. “Why do you sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

  “I…” Jemma propped a smile on her lips. “Well, it’s not quite goodbye. More of a precursor.”

  The bafflement in Camilla’s expression only grew. “How about you tell me like you’d tell your students, because I’m lost. And a pinch worried.”

  A shallow sip of oxygen helped clear Jemma’s head. “Mrs. Lau is due to come back at the end of the month, right?”

  Camilla nodded. “Yes, but with a newborn, she’ll probably need a substitute here and there, and I’m working on finding you a spot.”

  Jemma grabbed her friend’s hand. “I appreciate that, Camilla, I do. But a friend back home called me this morning to tell me there’s an opening at the district office—the same district I used to teach in. They promoted an administrator I used to work with, and since she’s in charge of filling her old spot, she told me that if I want the job, it’s mine. They’d have me start training the first week of March so I could help with summer school.”

  “What did you just say?” another voice asked, one with an edge of bewilderment and dismay.

  Jemma spun around to see April holding three stacked gallon buckets filled with pink liquid. Great. Now that she’d overheard, the entire town would soon find out.

  She supposed tonight she’d just cut them off at the pass and announce it at the end of the play. Then she’d get it over in one fell swoop.

  “But you can’t leave,” April said. “What about Wyatt?”

  That relentless twinge in her chest throbbed to life again. “What about him? He just wants to be friends. He made that very clear.”

  “Pfft!” April set the buckets on the white tablecloth with red and pink hearts. “I don’t believe it. He came into the shop the other day and he looked completely miserable.”