Page 7 of Sweet Surrender

Shaking his head, he followed after them at his own pace.

Being here, he could almost be a child again himself, running to the playground with his brothers, his mom waving to them with Allie on her hip. It wasn’t just the familiar stone building and the homes around it, the sounds of children’s laughter and the scent of snow on the air were exactly as he remembered, too.

Living in the same small town all your life could do that to you—sometimes making you feel like you could come dislodged from time altogether. While you grew up at the usual pace, the world around you changed so slowly that it was almost imperceptible.

Though his brother, Tag, would definitely disagree with that. He was more likely to complain that things changed too much, too fast. And maybe Tag was right when it came to the village. More and more folks were moving to Sugarville Grove from all over the country lately, looking for some kind of magical “simple life.” The locals called those peopleflatlanders.

Anyone who had actually grown up on a farm would know life was anything but simple when the health and happiness of living creatures was in your hands. There were simple pleasures, of course, like feeling the fresh mountain wind on your face, or seeing a calf take her first steps. But Zane was pretty sure the stakes were higher than working with spreadsheets, no matter howstressed outthe city folks always said they were.

He turned the corner to find that the boys had actually waited for him at the back of the school. Nick’s eyes were on the monkey bars, his thin shoulders practically quivering with the desire to tear across the playground and demonstrate his prowess.

And Cal’s eyes were on Nick, as ever, looking to him for their shared plan. Zane had been the same at their age. He and Tripp weren’t twins, but they were only a year apart, and they had been inseparable.

Suddenly, in that sea of familiarity, something different caught his eye. Among all those well-known faces and colorful puffer jackets, a slender figure in a dove-gray wool coat stood out.

His first thought was that she was young, surely too young to be the new teacher. Then he noticed the way her dark haircontrasted with her pale complexion, and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

She’s pretty, a voice in the back of his head whispered.

Shaking off the idea, he jogged to catch up with the boys.

“Is that her?” Cal was whispering to Nick.

It seemed the twins had noticed the standout young woman too. Unfortunately, they were being pretty loud, even though they were trying to whisper, and they were both pointing at her, which seemed to have gotten her attention.

But she was smiling as she headed their way, looking even more striking than before. Zane turned his gaze to the boys, more to have a reason to look away from the teacher than anything else.

“She’s too pretty to be a teacher,” Nick said a little too loudly to Cal, who elbowed his brother as she reached them.

“Hi, there,” she said in a bell-clear voice that instantly captured the attention of both boys, and Zane as well, if he was being honest. “You wouldn’t happen to be in the second grade, would you?”

“Wearein second grade,” Nick said.

“Yes,” Cal added with a big smile.

“That’s wonderful,” she said. “I’m Miss Hawthorne, the new teacher.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nick said very politely. “I’m Nick.”

“Hi,” Cal said softly. “I’m Cal.”

Miss Hawthorne’s eyes moved to Zane. Her eyes were bright blue and curious, and he froze, as if he had suddenly forgotten everything about how to meet a new person.

“That’s our dad,” Nick pointed out helpfully.

“Hi, there,” she said in a friendly way, her blue eyes dancing. “I’m Becca Hawthorne.”

“Zane Lawrence,” he heard himself say at last.

“These are for you,” Nick said suddenly, grabbing the basket from Zane’s hands and holding them out to her eagerly. “For a good first impression.”

The words hung in the frosty air for a full second that felt like an hour to Zane. Why hadn’t he pointed out that you weren’t supposed tosayyou were trying to make a good first impression?

“Did you make these for me?” Miss Hawthorne asked.

“No,” Zane replied automatically. “My mom did.”

He immediately felt like an enormous child.My mom?Wouldn’t a normal man just have said the boys’ grandmother made them?

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