"I can burp the alphabet, and I know all the songs fromSeven Brides for Seven Brothers."
The giggles around the room swelled.
"And I can make my farts sound like a duck!" she added brightly. "You just gotta squeeze your cheeks when it's coming out."
She plopped down in her seat like she’d just solved world peace. The kids howled with laughter, and honestly, I wanted to join them.
"Thank you, Bertie," I said, fighting a smile. "Very enlightening."
More kids followed; Brennan, who spoke fluent German thanks to his grandmother, Sally who could do a back flip, Lucas who could ride his bicycle without holding on with his hands and others with equally wonderful and ridiculous talents.
By the time we finished, I had memorized more than half the class and mentally flagged the potential troublemakers: Daniel, the note-flicker; Amber and Macey, the whisperers.
Still, as I looked around at their eager faces, I felt something settle in my chest.
Peace.
Maybe I could come home again.
Maybe I could build a life here.
"Okay," I said, glancing at the clock, "time for lunch."
"Aww," Bertie said, bouncing in her seat. "That went fast!"
"It did," I agreed.
The kids filed out, chattering and laughing, and as they lined up, I allowed myself a moment to soak it all in.
I could do this.
I could have a fresh start.
IfI kept my distance from Nash Miller.
Chapter 11
Sorry – Justin Bieber
Nash
The queue for the pickup line was the stuff of nightmares. It stretched endlessly, packed with people who thought the rules didn’t apply to them just because they had an “important meeting” or had to make their nail appointment at Belinda’s Beauty Shop. All it did was prolong the agony of sitting in a hot truck, thinking about the ranch work I could be doing.
At least it gave me time to catch up on Dougie’s emails about the lavender farm. He was pretty sure it wasn’t included in the ranch deed, which meant Dad couldn’t sell it. Dougie still had a few more things to check, but I trusted him. He knew my father fought dirty. We needed everything locked down tight. I’d die before I let Dad sell off Mom’s pride and joy.
A horn blared, jolting me. I jerked forward, realizing the line had moved. Muttering a curse, I eased up a few feet.
At another standstill, I scrolled through a few more boring emails, the one about the increase in cattle auction fees being the most mind-numbing. When it was finally my turn at the front,some idiot honked again, scaring the hell out of me. My phone shot out of my hand and landed somewhere under the pedals.
“Shit.” I bent down, fumbling around with one hand, my seatbelt strangling me.
The passenger door swung open.
"Hey, Daddy!" Bertie chirped.
"Hey, Munchkin." I straightened up, tossing my phone onto the console, and shoved the truck into drive.
"Did you see her?" she asked, bouncing in her seat. "Did you? Did you see her?"