1. Josie

1

josie

“ H ey, Miss Josie, I heard my mommy tell my Aunt Daisy that my dad is always horny. Does that mean he’s like a reindeer too? Cuz of their horns?” Arthur asks, blinking up at me innocently.

You would think that teaching at Strawberry Hollow Elementary for over four years now would somewhat prepare me for the things that come out of my sweet, little cherub-faced kindergarteners’ mouths, but I’m honestly not sure that anything could.

In today’s case, the bright red, blinking reindeer nose and velvet antlers that I currently have on while I teach the kids about my favorite holiday is the instigator.

It’s true what they say… kids say the damnedest things.

And believe it or not, this might not even be the craziest one I’ve heard.

“Um, actually, sweetheart, they’re not called horns. I know they look similar, but these are called antlers. Reindeers have antlers ,” I say brightly as I reach up and point to the antler headband on my head. They’re wrapped in multicolored Christmas lights with tiny little golden jingle bells affixed to the points.

My most festive seasonal headband because only the best for my babies.

Arthur’s nose scrunches, his mouth pinching tight as he tries to wrap his little head around the difference between antlers and horns… and to figure out just what that has to do with his dad .

Finally, he shrugs, his curious blue gaze returning to the half-decorated reindeer coloring activity on his desk.

I exhale the pent-up breath I was holding.

Okay. Phew. Crisis… narrowly averted.

It’s the day before Thanksgiving break, which some believe is much too early to begin celebrating Christmas, but I do have a reputation to uphold, especially at Strawberry Hollow Elementary.

During the holiday season, I wear my favorite festive outfits and plan as much Christmas fun into our daily curriculum as I can. I try to make every activity educational but also fun because they’re still kids. Kids who are full of wonder and innocence and who still believe in magic. It’s one of the reasons that I love my job so much. My brothers have always said that I was born to be a kindergarten teacher, and it might just be the only thing we can actually agree on.

“I have something that I want to tell you all. But… it’s a secret. Do you think that you could keep a big secret? It’s pretty important,” I whisper as I lean in closer to the sea of wide eyes staring back at me from their desks. They all nod eagerly, covering their mouths as a few silly giggles escape. “I’m counting on you, okay?”

Lifting my hand to cup around my mouth, I lean even closer and whisper, “People in Strawberry Hollow… well, they call me the queen of Christmas.”

A dozen dramatic gasps echo around the classroom like I’ve just told them something revolutionarily groundbreaking, and I laugh softly.

“But… Miss Josie… that means you’re like… royalty !” Lucy whispers in awe. Her bright green eyes shine, and an awe-filled smile takes over her face as she tugs on her long, strawberry blonde braids. “ Christmas royalty.”

She’s a new student who just transferred midsemester into my class, and she reminds me so much of myself. She’s bright and witty. Curious, compassionate, and kind to her classmates. But the thing that reminds me the most of myself is that she’s a self-proclaimed Christmas fanatic.

The very first thing she told me when introducing herself a couple of days ago was that Christmas is her favorite holiday, and she loves to tell Christmas jokes. Now, every morning, she has a new one to tell the moment she walks into the classroom.

Even though she’s only been here for a couple days, we’ve already developed a connection because, honestly, she’s the most adorable little girl ever, so it’s hard not to be completely taken with her.

I don’t have favorites.

I love all of my students equally, but without a doubt, there’s just something special about Lucy.

“I think that’s the best kind of royalty, don’t you?” I say, my lips curving into a grin when she nods enthusiastically. “Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always loved Christmas. Of course, because it’s the best holiday there is. So I will gladly accept the title of Christmas Queen of Strawberry Hollow.”

Twisting my fingertips in the soft fabric of my reindeer-printed skirt, I do a dramatic curtsey that makes another slew of giggles ring out around the room.

Which just may be my favorite sound ever.

“Okay, we only have a few more minutes until the bell rings, so everyone work on finishing your reindeer coloring sheets so we can hang those up around our classroom.”

The sound of crayons and paper shuffling fills the room, along with excited murmurs as my students return to their activity, and I make my way around to each of their desks. I always try to offer positive encouragement as a way to nourish my little minds, so I spend a few moments with each student, complimenting their art.

When I finally make it to Lucy, I glance down at the coloring sheet on her desk and see that it’s already completed, and she’s begun to draw something in the blank margin of the paper.

Her light, strawberry blonde brows are hunched tight in concentration, the tip of her tongue peeking out at the corner of her lips as she focuses intently on the illustration.

I squat down in front of her desk and peer down at the drawing. “What are you working on, Luce?”

Bright green eyes raise to meet mine, paired with a sweet, lopsided grin that shows her missing front tooth.

Somehow, the toothless smile only adds to how adorable she is.

“Oh, this?” she mutters, glancing back down at the paper in her hand. “That’s my dad. I drew him with a frown because he’s kind of… grumpy sometimes. But he has a really big heart… kind of like the Grinch!”

“Well, you know what that means?” I ask, lifting a brow.

Lucy blinks up at me. “What?”

“That just means that he needs extra love when he’s grumpy. That’s when we should give the most love, to those who need it more than we do. And you know what? I think you have lots of love to give, Lucy.”

She looks at me curiously for a moment, chewing on the side of her lip, and then finally nods. “I think you’re right, Miss Josie. Maybe my dad just needs someone else to love him too.”

My shoulder dips as I stand. “Maybe so. Either way, I love this picture. You did a wonderful job.”

“Thanks, Miss Josie!”

I leave her with a wink and head back to my desk, which is my own brand of organized chaos, and tidy it up while the kids finish their activity. Tomorrow is officially Thanksgiving break, and while I’m looking forward to sleeping in past six thirty, I have so much to do in my classroom that I’ll probably end up back here, like I always do.

Not that I’m complaining.

One thing I learned very early on… being a teacher is never a nine-to-five job, and since I’m painfully single and have no kids of my own… it keeps me busy.

And I love it.

I spend most of my nights and weekends lesson planning, cutting out things for activities, and working on projects to display in the classroom. Anything I can to make my classroom a happy, festive place for my kids to be.

A few minutes later, the bell rings, and the kids spring from their seats, rushing over to their cubbies for backpacks.

“Okay, don’t forget all of your things, everyone! And your carpool or bus tags,” I singsong, grabbing a few pastel-colored tags off the hooks and handing them out. “Everyone, have a fun turkey day, and make sure you gobble gobble all of the yummy food for me.”

A string of giggles greets my silly joke, and I grin, watching as they all file out into the hallway in a flurry of excitement.

Lucy’s still packing up at her desk extremely slowly, which grabs my attention.

“Everything okay, Lucy?”

She nods, raking her tooth over her bottom lip. “My dad said he was going to pick me up today. He wanted to meet you since he couldn’t the first day, but I don’t think he’s here yet…”

I’m looking forward to meeting her father, not only because I think it’s important to have good communication with all my students’ parents but because Lucy talks about him with just as much affection as she talks about Christmas.

I give her a reassuring smile as I walk over and help her put her pencil pouch into her backpack. “That’s okay. That just means you can hang out in here with me for a b?—”

A soft knock sounds against the classroom door, and Lucy’s face lights up, a wide smile splitting her lips. “ Daddy ! You’re here!”

When I turn to the doorway and my gaze lands on his face, it takes my brain a moment to catch up with what I’m seeing.

Because Lucy’s Dad?

Is Wyatt Owens.

The very man who broke my heart eight years ago.

My first and only love.

The love that I’ve never gotten over.

And I am not at all prepared to see him for the first time since he left all those years ago. Or at least… my heart isn’t. Of course I’d see him with my end-of-day hair a mess, light-up antlers, and a glitter reindeer skirt.

“ Josie ?” he whispers thickly. His deep, raspy voice has gone breathless in shock, sounding nothing like the boy I remember.

Nothing about him is like the boy I once knew. In his place is a tall, broad-shouldered, devastatingly handsome man. The kind of man that would make my heart race on a regular day, even without the fact that he’s… Wyatt. My Wyatt.

Or at least he was once upon a time.

I swallow, inhaling a breath as I try to remain calm. “W-Wyatt.”

He stares back, evident disbelief flickering in his whiskey eyes that I could never forget, even when I tried.

I’ve done my best over the last eight years to protect my heart after he broke it, which means that I haven’t looked him up on social media or even asked his grandparents or his high school friends how he was when I saw them around town. I’ve done my best to pretend that he didn’t exist at all.

When he left… I was devastated. I wondered so many times if you could actually die of a broken heart. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. I thought Wyatt and I would be together forever, and looking back, I realize I was just young and na?ve.

God, is this really happening? Is Wyatt Owens actually standing in my classroom right now?

“You’re… Lucy’s teacher?” he asks, as if the answer isn’t already obvious, heady surprise hanging heavily in his words. He holds my gaze as I walk closer until I’m standing in front of the doorway where they’re standing.

Clearly, he’s as taken aback as I am by this new development.

I nod as I roll my lips together. “I am. She’s such a sweetheart. I really love having her in my class.”

My gaze drops to the bright-faced little girl currently wrapped around his legs, her gaze bouncing between the two of us curiously. I give her a small smile, and her green eyes twinkle.

I didn’t even know that Wyatt had a child, let alone a five-year-old, but now that he’s standing here with Lucy, I can see the uncanny resemblance between them.

His dark blond hair is unruly, the locks mussed as if he’s run his hands through it for most of the day. I can almost recall what it felt like to tangle my fingers in that hair, and my heart stutters in my chest.

He feels so familiar, my heart calling to his in a way that it once used to, but also completely different. I never knew it was possible to experience both feelings at once.

“You look?—”

“It’s go?—”

Our sentences run together in a string of syllables when we both speak at once, and Wyatt laughs, low and gravelly in a way that shouldn’t have my stomach fluttering the way that it is.

He’s always had that effect on me, and I guess some things never change.

Lucy tugs at the bottom of his T-shirt, and he looks down at his daughter, giving me a moment to unabashedly drink him in.

My gaze drops to the large work boots on his feet, slightly caked with dried mud and grass, and slowly moves up to the tight, dark jeans that are molded over his thick thighs. Then, higher to the mud-stained burgundy T-shirt beneath a thick, khaki-colored Carhartt jacket. I take in his wide shoulders and the strong column of his throat, which is covered by a short beard that’s slightly darker than the honey-colored hair on his head.

When I finally get to his eyes, I find them on me, the corner of his full lips curved into a lazy smirk.

Crap.

My face immediately heats, bleeding down my neck as I clear my throat and force my gaze to anywhere but where he’s standing.

“It’s good to see you, Josie. You look… amazing,” he says quietly, and my gaze snaps to his. His dark, bourbon-colored eyes seem to burn into me, and I nod, plastering on a small smile. Even though my stomach feels as if it’s doing Olympic somersaults inside of me.

“It’s great to see you too. I-I… didn’t know you were back in town.”

His chin lifts in a slight nod. “Yeah. Papa fell a few weeks ago and broke his hip. Even before that, he’d been having trouble keeping up at the ranch lately, so decided it was time for me to move back home to help out. It worked out perfectly because there’s nowhere I’d rather raise Luce than in Strawberry Hollow.”

I nod. “That’s good. I mean, that you’re helping him out—obviously not that he broke his hip. Will your wife be coming by this week to meet me?”

I’m slightly fishing, yes, but genuinely curious now that I know Wyatt is Lucy’s dad.

Lucy’s nose scrunches, and she says, “Daddy doesn’t have a wife. Wait, Daddy, do you have a wife?”

Wyatt chuckles. “No, bug.”

Okay, well, that answers that.

Clearing my throat, trying to make this less unbearably awkward, I say, “Okay, well, um… if y’all need anything, please, let me know. You know Ma loves any reason to bake.”

Lucy bounces on her toes, her princess light-up shoes blinking with the movement. “Oh, I love to bake too! My grams is gonna teach me how to make the best strawberry pie there is.”

“Well, she is famous here for her strawberry pie, so I have no doubt she’ll make the best teacher,” I tell Lucy with a knowing grin before lifting my gaze back to Wyatt.

This time, he’s the one staring, and he doesn’t look the least bit fazed at being caught. His lips tug higher as he says, “Luce, we gotta go. Gramps is waiting for us. Josie… It was great to see you. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again soon enough.”

I nod, offering a quick wave, but Lucy untangles from her dad and rushes over to me, nearly knocking me over with the force of her hug. I laugh quietly as I wrap my arms around her small body and return the hug.

Then she pads back over to her dad, and together, they turn and leave. I’m stuck staring at the empty doorway, my heart pounding in my chest and my pulse still racing wildly.

Holy crap. Wyatt Owens is home… in Strawberry Hollow.

For good.